Reap What You Sow
A Harry Potter/X-Men Crossover Story
"I'm Not Crazy!"
(Chapter One)
Author Note/Disclaimer: I do not own anything in Harry Potter; it was created by J.K. Rowling. I also do not own anything of the Marvel world, mostly X-Men characters; they were created by many other people, too many to name. I also don't own anything from the movies. This story will be set before the first X-Men movie and well, the HP books are going to be hard to explain, but you will see what I mean in the story later. This story will also have some comic book references in it, mostly about battles and character past. So don't be alarmed if you don't know some of these characters that may or may not appear. If you have any questions about this story, just let me know. I'm more than willing to help you with any questions.
Harry was born in the year 1976, on July 30th. John was born July 31st, 1980 and is the younger brother to Harry. Lily Potter and James Potter were still born in 1960. They were like most teenagers these days and had Harry when they were sixteen. Harry was mostly raised by his grandparents, Cassiopeia and Jonathan Potter while his parents still went to school. (I've never read a story where Lily and James had a child young) This also gets Harry to see his parents as 'teenagers' still.
You will learn why Harry's name was changed when he gets 'adopted'.
Summary: Little Harry Potter had, had a good childhood, with his grandparents that is. At an early age, James Potter and Lily Evans had a son, at the age of sixteen. Who was born as a 'bastard' child, as their parents had never been married. Over the years of growing up, Harry rarely saw his parents, as they were still teenagers and livign the experience, before they began their fight against Voldemort. At the age of five, little Harry watches as his grandparents, those he loved and cherished so very much, die by the wand of Lord Voldemort, leaving the small child scared and traumatized. Not even six months later, little Harry is finally cast aside, and left at people who despised 'freaks' like him. Before long, six year old Harry is taken from the nasty people and given a home to be cared and loved for, or did he really? Little Harry has dark secrets, and an even darker personality hidden within, just waiting to be locked away. Will he do the right and good thing? Or will he do the easy and bad thing? Only time can tell.
Pairings: Jace D'amour/? (Suggestions are wanted)
Setting(s): AU. This story takes place in the world of both X-Men movies and X-Men comic books, with their characters and some of their story. Harry Potter world will have a part, but not for a little while.
Rating: NC-17 or M at times
Warnings: Violence, Strong Language, Adult Situations, Graphic Sex (Maybe), Mention/Show of Child Abuse, Mention/Show of Alcohol Abuse, Mention/Show of Drug Abuse, Gore, Insanity, Break Outs From Mental Hospitals, Murder, Suicide, Kidnapping, Nudity, Fights, Slash (Male/Male & Female/Female), Religious Themes, Religious Talk, Disbelief In Religions, ect.
Godrics Hollow
Potter Cottage
"We will be fine darling, have no worries. The children are going to have a fun time tonight." Euphemia Potter nee Fawley exclaims with exasperation. How many times was she going to tell her son and daughter-in-law to go and enjoy themselves? It wasn't every day they were able to actually get out and have fun, with worrying about their children's protection from death in the name of Lord Voldemort.
"Are – are you sure?" Lily Potter questions worriedly. She holds her oldest son Harry Potter, who has turned five three months ago, in her arms and bounces him gently as he fusses and squirms to be put down.
"Yes. We'll just play with the children until they fall asleep and then put them to bed." Fleamont Potter states as he stands beside his wife. Amusement dances in his hazel eyes, making them sparkle in the light. He, like his son and grandson, has raven black hair.
"Well, since that's settled. We should go Lily. We don't want to be late." James Potter says with a smile on his handsome face. He wraps his arms around his beautiful wife's waist, kisses his oldest on the forehead sweetly before pulling away slowly.
Little Jonathan "John" Potter gives a whimpering cry from his playpen and holds out his arms to his father, closing and opening his fists with frustration. "Da!" He cries out. "Dada!" He continues. James chuckles at his son and walks over to the play pen and picks the young child up and holds John close to his chest. "Shhh John. Daddy is here," he says tenderly with a warm smile. He kisses the messy auburn hair with a wide smile. The feeling he gets whenever he holds his children in his arms was something unforgettable. It was an amazing feeling. To know that you were the one that created this innocent and adorable child that counted on you for protection and love.
Lily sighs with relief as Harry finally stops squirming and just silently listens to his mother's humming. "I'm tired momma," he murmurs out as he wraps his arms around his mother's neck.
"I know baby. Grandma will put you to bed soon." Lily states with a small smile. "I love you Harry," she adds in a soft voice. She and James haven't truly been parents to Harry in his first few years. They were young when they had little Harry, only sixteen, which led them to giving him to James' parents so they could take care of him. It wasn't until he was nearly four that they finally were able to raise him. Lily sometimes thinks Harry loves his grandmother and grandfather more than she and James. After all, they were barely around when he was a toddler, even when they had summer vacation, they did the things every teenager does, have fun with their friends. "Your daddy is right Harry, we should go." Lily sighs with resignation.
Euphemia and Fleamont give each other smiles of amusement. They have been the same way when they were first time parents, though, they were much older than Lily and James have been. "That settles it then." Euphemia remarks before plucking John out of his father's arms. The young toddler gives a cry and squirms fussily. Jonathan also takes young Harry out of his daughter-in-laws arms and holds him close. Jonathan notices that Harry is watching his parents in a thoughtful silence. They know that Harry cares (loves) them more than his own parents and they can't help but feel saddened at times at the thought. They had raised Harry while his parents did teenager things. It was the same with Lily's parents; they also raised Harry when they themselves had to do work while their children went to Hogwarts.
"Go have fun." Fleamont orders his son and daughter-in-law. "You're still young and need to get out every once in a while." He makes no comment to remind them how dangerous it was and how short life was with the war against Voldemort happening.
"Okay, okay," James chuckles as he raises his hands in surrender. He knows when he's lost and should just listen to his parents. "We'll see you later then," he states with a smile. he gives his mother a hug and kiss on the cheek. "I love you mom." James says with a smile. "See you later Pops," he adds as he hugs his father too. He's never too old to say this to his parents, especially in such dark times.
As James said his goodbyes, Lily was also saying goodbye to her parent-in-laws. She loved them like they were her own parents. Her parents had died in a car accident years ago, when Harry had been two-years-old. There bodies had been unrecognizable.
"We'll see you later," Lily says with a one last smile. James walked back over to Lily and wrapped his arm around her waist. Together, the couple walked out the door abd disappeared with a loud cracking pop.
Later That Night
"I suppose we should put the little ones down." Euphemia muses aloud.
"Yes, that sounds like a good idea." Fleamont replies as the two stand up slowly from the couch in the living room. Both are holding a child in their arms as they slowly walk into the front hallway that leads to the staircase. The two freeze at the sound of a sudden alarm blaring. It blares for three minutes before suddenly silencing. They glance at one another, fear prominent in their eyes.
"Effie, take Harry and John and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" Fleamont Potter exclaimes, placing young John into her arms as gently as possible.
The young toddler startles awake at the sudden movement. Hazel eyes gaze around the hall with curiosity and surprise. It seems like John was just now recognizing where he was. His older brother, Harry, has already awoken at the loud yell and was staring around with intelligent green eyes in surprise and curiosity. They could feel the sensation of fear, anger and shock settling around them like a bubble.
Fleamont grips his wand in a tight fist. His eyes, a fierce hazel, glares at the door as it swings open with a crash causing the mirror hanging behind the door to fall to the floor and shatter.
"– Flea – " Euphemia exclaims with horror bright in her beautiful sapphire blue eyes as she stares into her husband's equally worried eyes.
"Go Effie. I love you." Fleamont utters, giving the love of his life one last tender kiss.
Tears glisten in her eyes as she moves, uttering four little words, "I love you too," to her husband before hurriedly running up the stairs, holding her two grandchildren tight in her arms. They are her grandchildren and she will protect them to her last dying breath. She has raised little Harry since he was born and has always been there for him. She has also helped raise John. She would be honest with herself; she loves her first grandchild most because she was there for Harry from the start. She would do anything for the both of them though, even if it meant her death in the end.
"You will not hurt them." Fleamont vows, tossing out a dark spell. The two wizards duel fiercely with one another, sparks and crashes echoed in the house, until finally after nearly ten minutes, two unforgivable words were spoken.
"Avada Kedavra!" The electric green colored spell shoots out from the Dark Lords wand, hitting dead center into Fleamont Potters chest. The mans lifeless body collapses onto the floor in a dull thud. Euphemia Potter gives a sob at the sound of her husband's dead body hitting the floor from her position in the nursery. Holding her oldest grandson tighter in her arms she set him down in his crib.
Young Harry stood beside the crib and watched his grandmother with curious eyes. He has often stood beside his grandmother when she performed magic. it absolutely fascinated him, the way she could wield her magic so easily.
"Per vitam et sanguinem, I muniantur. Et dabo eos in tutela a malis. Et mors non erit eis. Alia vita erunt, et protegebat salutem. Per hunc ritum, sic fiet." (With this life and blood, I protect them. And I will give them this protection from evil. And Death Shall not have them. A life for another, he shall be protected and saved. With this rite, so it shall be done.) Euphemia chants out. With a flick of her wand, a gash appears across her hand. Raising it, she uses her wand to lightly graze the children's necks. She had searched desperately when she discovered her grandchildren may be killed by a madman. It was one of the reasons why she talked her son and daughter-in-law in to leaving. If they had not, they would have died, leaving her grandchildren in hands of monsters.
Euphemia looks down at her grandchildren, tears glistening bright in her eyes and slowly sliding down her face. She bent dian to kiss little Jonathan on the forehead. she gags the small child a hug before pulling away and turning to Harry. She hugged her oldest grandson the tightest and rested her forehead upon his head for a moment. "I love you so much Harry." Euphemia murmurs to her older grandson. Her eyes are filled with so much pride and love that five-year-old Harry feels tears slide down his face. He knows what is going to happen. He can feel it in the air, feel it in his heart and most of all, he could feel it in his mind.
"I love you too Grandma." Harry replies softly. Leaning forward he gives his grandmother a little kiss on the lips as he gives her a sad smile. Euphemia feels a small sob escape at her grandson's words. It broke her heart, knowing that her grandson was going to see something so horrible. Little John was lucky, he wouldn't remember anything about this.
The silence is broken as the door suddenly slams inward, crashing against the wall with a deafening bang, causing the children to jump in alarm. Lord Voldemort stands in his dark, twisted glory, in the doorway of the nursery. He sneers at the blood traitorous Pureblood witch whom stood defiantly before him, protecting her pathetic grandchildren. "Move aside you pathetic wretch, move aside! Now!" The Dark Lord hisses darkly as he stares at the woman with disgust.
"Not Harry or John , please no – don't kill them, take me, kill me instead —" Euphemia begs. Tears continue to stream down her face. Her voice cracks in despair. Her husband, the man she loved, was dead. She would not let this monster take her grandchildren as well.
"Move aside woman! Now!" The Dark Lord hisses irritably. Little John gives a startled cry at the loud voices. Harry holds his brother in his arms, trying to soothe his brother of his tears and fear.
"Please…no… Not Harry…Not John. Please no." Euphemia cries with a shake of her head, black hair cascading over her back.
"This is my last warning —" The Dark Lord hisses.
"Not Harry! Not John! Please ... have mercy ... they're just children! Please — I'll do anything..." Euphemia says with a shake of her head. Dark black hair, like her grandson, fall into her bright blue eyes.
"Avada Kedavra." The Dark Lord murmurs with annoyance. The green light shoots out from his wand and hits Euphemia. A loud scream emits from her before the lifeless body collapses onto the floor. Five-year-old Harry gives a startled cry at the sight of his grandmother falling to the in an emotionless heap. The two boys sit before the crib. Little Harry sits slightly in front of his baby brother, protecting John from the monster that was Lord Voldemort.
The Dark Lord steps carelessly over the fallen body of Harry and John's grandmother and stands before the two children. He could have gone after the Longbottom boy, but he had other plans. "Such small creatures, so defenseless and helpless. You shall never see the day were you can defeat me." The Dark Lord Voldemort sneers with disgust. Raising his wand he speaks, "Avada Kedavra." The green light shoots out of his wand and towards the two brother's. A shield in the color of a hazy green and blue, swirls to life around the two boys. There's another shield, the color of fire and blood swirling beneath the green and blue shield.
The smirk that was gracing Lord Voldemorts lips as he realized he has killed the brat quickly turns to shock as he notices the strange fiery red and black eyes that have appeared in the oldest Potter boy's eyes. The surprise he felt makes the Dark Lord too slow to dodge the dark spell that is shooting towards him and swiftly connecting to his chest. A loud scream of pain emits from his mouth as he feels his soul being torn out from his body. John, who has a small scar on his neck, cries at the pain he feels.
Harry Potter feels dizzy, in pain and sick as blood drips down from the cut created from the spell that has hit him mostly and partly his brother. The five year old slowly crawls away from his baby brother, barely paying attention to his own crying as he makes his way over to his grandmother. "Love you grandma." Harry whispers with his continuous silent tears dripping down his cheeks like a small river. He leans forward and kisses his grandmother on the cheek before hugging her. Turning back to his baby brother he tiredly plops down beside John and holds him in his arms as he tries to calm his crying brother.
19th June 1993
New Orleans, Louisiana
D'amour Manor
"Non. (No) I'm not crazy...Je ne suis pas folle." (I'm not crazy) The voice softly speaks. "Je suis normal, tout à fait normal." (I'm normal, just normal) A voice mutteres in the darkness of a normal sized room. A figure sits curled in a small ball. The young man has pulled his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs protectively with his head laying on his arms. The only source of light comes from the window, where the sun is beginning to rise and shine through the cracks made from the black curtains hanging above the windowpane. Sounds of early morning wind hollowing from outside is the only source of noise to be heard besides the continuous muttering of the young adolescent. His breathing is shallow and jagged as he continues to shake with nervous tension.
Jace D'amour is tall, well-built and a darkly handsome young man with short, lustrous and naturally messy black hair, striking emerald green eyes, and an air of "casual elegance". At the moment a pained look crosses his vestige of aristocratic beauty at the amount of pain rising in his head. "Non…non…" (No...No) He mutters to himself in a begging tone.
Eyes squeeze shut as he tries unsuccessfully to keep his tears at bay. "I'm not crazy…non…I'm not." (No) He mutters to himself sternly in a raspy voice. His dark black hair is disheveled, making it look like he has just crawled out of bed. Bright electric green eyes are blood shot and diluted. The young teenager gives a painful gasp as another sudden shock of pain pulses at his temples. Tightening his grip on his head he squeezes his hands into tight fists as his body shakes from the sudden onslaught of voices filtering through his mind.
'Peut-être que je ne devrais pas…' (Perhaps I shouldn't.) A male voice states thoughtfully.
'Je ne peux pas croire qu'elle.' (This outfit looks tacky?) A feminine high-pitched voice murmurs.
'...Je ne peux pas croire qu'elle...' (...I can't believe she...) A deep voice seems to growl.
'Avez-vous entendu ce qui s'est passé?' (Did they hear what happened?) An excited squeal echoes.
'Je suis surpris qu'ils l'aient fait!' (I'm surprised they actually did it!) Another male voice whisperes in shock.
'Peut-être que je ne devrais pas y aller…' (Maybe I shouldn't go.) A female voice trails off in sadness.
'Je n'arrive pas à croire que je me suis laissé convaincre.' (I can't believe I was talked into this.) A boy's voice sighs.
'Je devrais lui dire que je suis malade.' (I should tell him that I'm sick.) Another girl whispers in fear.
' Je crains ce devoir...' (I'm dreading this assignment.) A male voice whines.
Voices fill the boy's mind and each voice seems to get louder and louder as he continues to lie on the floor and ignore them. It was like they wanted him to hear them. His legs remain curled to his chest as he closes his eyes tightly. Jace unsuccessfully tries to keep the voices out of his mind. "Shut up! Tais-toi! (Shut up)." He begs aloud. All he wished was for someone or something to kill him immediately and take him out of his misery. With a final sigh, the boy ignores the voices that surface in his mind and falls into an uneasy sleep.
Three Hours Later
The sound of knocking on Jace's bedroom door makes the young man groan. Beautiful emerald green eyes flicker open as he raises his head slowly from his corner. "Oui? (Yes)" The boy calls in an exhausted and sore voice. The door to his room swings open with a groan. A tall, very pretty blonde haired, brown eyed woman stands in the doorway of the darkly lit room. Hands are on her hips, the stern look of the woman's face slowly turns to shock and confusion as she notices the state her adoptive son is in.
'Good lord, what 'appened?' The thoughtful voice of his adoptive mother hit Jace full force, causing him to close his eyes tightly. "Whats wrong?" The older woman questions as she slowly walks towards her son.
"Nothin'. Is nothin'. Just a headache Mère (Mother)." The boy's 'mother' looks around the room and shakes her head with a disapproving look gracing her pretty face.
"Regardez ce gâchis." Eileen Hart exclaims, her gaze turning to look around the destroyed room. It looks like it has been struck by a tornado. Random objects and clothes are strewn across the floor and bed. "Jace Aziz D'amour. What did yah do tah tis room?" She glares down at her son, who remains sitting on the floor of his tan carpeted room.
Jace looks to his adoptive mother with a frown on his handsome face. He has done nothing on purpose, things had just started to happen. It wasn't his fault everything started flying around the room when those voices appeared. "I didn' do tis Mère (Mother)." He states defensively. "Yah gotta believe meh." At the look on his mother's face he releases a sigh and grimaces as his head gives a painful throb. Taking a deep breath to try and ease the pain he let it out slowly. His head feels like it was going to explode. Jace's headache feels nothing like a normal headache, but it also does not feel like a migraine.
"Hmm." Eileen mutters while giving her adoptive son a reproachful look as her eyes continue to look at the disaster of a room. "Jus' get ready for le lycée (school). Yah 'ave to leave soon." Eileen states sternly. With a turn of her heel Jace's mother steps out of the room while slamming the door shut behind her with a loud bang. Jace stands slowly from the corner in his room and turns to his bed and collapses tiredly on it.
"...le lycée (school)..." He mutters with a sigh. He did not want to go to school.
With a heavy sigh Jace rolls off of the bed with a thud and promptly stands up and dusts his pajama pants off. He runs a hand through his hair and grabs a pair of black cargo pants, a black studded belt, a black wife-beater and a black leather, knee-length trench coat. Black fingerless gloves and black biker boots complete his outfit. Holding his clothes in his arms he steps out of his room and makes his way to the bathroom down the hallway. Shutting the door quietly behind him, he quickly walks towards the shower and turns the nozzles on. Jace ignores the mirror hanging on his wall. He remembers what happened the last time he looked at his reflection; he did not want that incident to happen again. His black raven hair falls into his eyes as he removes his black pajama pants.
Hopping into the shower Jace sighs in content. He loves his hot water. Shaking his head he begins to quickly wash his hair with dandruff free shampoo and conditioner. After he finishes washing his hair he begin washing his body with dove soap. Ten minutes later he steps out of the shower, turning the water off while doing so and grabs his towels. Wrapping it around his waist he uses the other to dry his black locks of hair before drying the rest of his body off. He steps up to the mirror and raises a artistic shaped hand and wipes the steam away so he can wash his face. He does not realize he was staring at his reflection in strange fascination. Jace has not looked at his reflection in over a year, not since it happened. Snapping out of his thoughts he steps back in fear when his reflection smiles at him.
"Aven't seen yah in some time." Jace's reflection states with a pleasant smile. The reflection's eyes glimmer sinisterly as it looks him over.
Jace shakes his head and gave a tired sigh. "Yah know the reason. I hate talkin' to yah. You al'ays seem to twist ever'thin' I say." He spat out with a glare.
His reflection laughs and shrugs innocently. "Darlin', yah make it too easy not tah." Jace opens his mouth to defend himself when his reflection cuts him off. "Yah know tis true." His reflection whispers with a malicious smile.
"Non! (No) Tha's a lie. Wheneveh I talk to yah, yah make me feel…bizarre (strange)." Jace snaps. His temper always seems to flare whenever he speaks to…himself? The reflection gives a smirk, a dark chuckle escapes from it's mouth and it echos in the bathroom with enthusiasm.
"Oh Jacey." His reflection coos, shaking its head in bemusement and exasperation. When the reflection speaks again, its voice holds a tone of annoyance. "Tha's 'cause yah know yah can' deny wha's inside yah. Yah know I'm only helpin' yah come tah terms tah wha' yah are." The reflection looks at Jace seriously.
"And wha' is inside meh?" Jace inquires sarcastically. Tanned hands grasp the counter tightly. The reflections eyes flash with anger.
"Mon (Me)…I'm inside yah and yah can ne'er beat meh." The voice sounds threatening. "I 'll always be inside that han'some 'ead of yah's." Jace's reflection tilts its head as if it was listening for something. "Yah should finish gettin' ready, don' wanta be la'e for school." The reflection says with a wink and smirk."Oh, an' Jacey, yah nevah gonna get rid of meh." The reflection warns. "I'll always be 'ere."
Jace stands still at the warning for a moment as he stares in the mirror. His reflection has gone back to normal, leaving Jace feeling more confused and worried then ever. How can he possibly speak to his reflection? Perhaps it's something inside of him? But what was inside of him? He shutters at the thought before he grabs his clothes and dresses quickly.
Jace steps out of the bathroom ten minutes later. His mind was still thinking over what his reflection or whatever it was, said. Shrugging to himself, Jace makes his way down the stairs, boots thumping with each heavy step. He's fully dressed, clean, and ready for a long day of hell. "Eve'y t'me tah blood runs to ma head I hea' tah 'ing. Somethin' tah 'mind moi, I'm non dead or ca'gh' in between. I lis'en tah 'he voice and wha' it says it's ne'er sweet. Somethin' I was bor' intah I guess livin' in meh. No price, nothin' I pay will ma'e it all 'ight. Nothin' I see will ma'e it lose 'ight. Nothin' I 'ake will ma'e me sleep at 'ight, sleep at 'ight." Jace sings underneath his breath as he walks into the kitchen to see his adoptive parents sitting at the kitchen table.
"Whe'e did yah 'ear tha' song?" Eileen questions from her spot at the table.
"Don' know." Jace shruga. "It jus' apparu (appeared) in my head." He says as he walks over to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water. "A plus tard Mère. (See you later Mother)" He calls out over his shoulder as he walks into the living room. He ignors his father Jason as he was not a friendly morning person, though the two men did love each other only a father and son could. Jason sits at the table drinking a cup of coffee, trying to wake up before he needs to get ready for work. Picking up his bag up off the floor from beside the door Jace swings it over his shoulder. Without a thought, he makes his way towards his High School.
Another new story. It's a re-edited version of my The Real Phoenix story. I had this idea in my head too and decided to just write it out and see what happens. I always did like HP Crossover stories, they're a lot more interesting than just normal stories, in my opinion.
This story is beta'd by HeavyMetal-Chic. Thank you, for being the Beta to this story, it's a lot easier having helping with my stories. :)
Reviews would be great, if you want to. But I feel it makes me a better writer by getting told what you all think of a story I have written.
Reviews, tell me what you think of the story, what should be added or changed. It helps me make this story better.
TheWeepingRaven
