Potter's Heroes

Summary: Harry Potter has a problem and no one else can help. If Hermione can find them, and if he has enough gold in Gringotts to pay them, maybe he can hire... The A-Team.

Crossover: Harry Potter/The A-Team

Pairing: slight Harry/Hermione

A/N: This is the crossover that you never knew you wanted to read, right? Right! I have lots of ideas for funny scenes for this fic; the tricky part will be to bring them together into something like an organized whole. It wouldn't do to simply have a montage of scenes... well, except for an actual montage, because every A-Team episode has a "preparing for battle montage." This will probably revolve around the 80s TV show cast/backstory, not the movie cast/backstory, so you'll have to squint a bit to ignore their ages.

As always, thanks to Bonnie for not only reading this and improving on the original, but also for her help in developing the plot so far.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does. I don't own The A-Team, Universal Television does.

Chapter 01 - All Quiet on the Hogwart's Front

Harry winced as Hermione applied more murtlap to his right hand.

"It looks pretty bad tonight," she said with a worried frown, and Harry nodded. "The damage she's causing in your detentions is outstripping my ability to heal you. Are you sure you won't go to Madam Pomfrey?"

Harry shook his head. "A Hufflepuff tried that and got extra detentions for it."

"What?" Hermione hissed. "That's outrageous!"

"It's about what I'd expect," Harry said with a resigned shrug. "She'll attack anything that even seems to undermine her authority or challenge the Ministry."

Hermione sighed. "You're probably right. I just... I just wish there was something we could do."

"You and me both," Harry agreed. "But there's no one we can go to. Professor McGonagall simply told me to keep my head down — not that it would do me much good if I could. Sirius and Remus can't do anything for obvious reasons. And Professor Dumbledore is ignoring me. This is being done on orders from the highest people in the Ministry, so even if we told someone like Mr. Weasley, he doesn't have the power to help."

"In fact, he might get into trouble if he tried," Hermione added.

Harry nodded. "The Prophet won't help — and because of them, most of wizarding Britain hates me."

"That's one of the things that bothers me most about this society," Hermione said as she gently wiped his hand clean. "Everything is so insular, so uniform. There are hardly any truly independent institutions that can challenge those in charge. No outsiders with the power to help."

"Outsiders?" Harry echoed, his brow furrowed in thought.

"What are you thinking of?"

"I'm not sure," Harry said slowly. "I remember something on the telly at my relatives' house, back before Hogwarts. Something... something about a group of people who could fix problems when the law couldn't help. Yank soldiers of some sort."

"Mercenaries?" Hermione asked, aghast.

"I dunno — I guess? They were apparently very good, according to what little I heard."

"Harry, that's ridiculous," Hermione replied, shaking her head. "Even if hiring mercenaries was justifiable, and even if you had the money, they must be muggles! Hiring them to help you with the Ministry or You-Know-Who would violate the Statute of Secrecy!"

"Maybe, maybe not," Harry said, leaning back on the couch as he gazed off into the distance. "I remember now that they were able to do things considered impossible, so maybe they have magic — or maybe only a couple of them are magical. And if not, well... maybe they could be obliviated afterwards?"

"Oh, Harry. That's got to be the most absurd—"

"And besides, you remember what Dumbledore told me about the prophecy last year? When I was in the hospital wing recovering from the fight in the graveyard?" Hermione nodded. Sirius was outraged to learn that his godson had been used in a ritual to help restore Voldemort's body — he had been seconds away from taking Harry out of the country. It was only Dumbledore promising to finally tell them both the truth which kept Harry in Britain. "Well, who's to say that muggle military tactics or tools isn't the 'power he knows not'?"

"I don't know, Harry..."

"Look, Hermione, I know it sounds mental," he interrupted, jumping up and starting to pace. "But I'm getting desperate here. Every year I have to face Voldemort, and now he not only has a body, but he's gathered his followers together — it's only going to get harder. Dumbledore hasn't done anything to prepare me for this. In fact, he's done the opposite, if you think about how awful the Defense classes have been."

"You've got a point," Hermione conceded reluctantly. "Even if Umbridge were teaching us properly, we'd have a lot of trouble passing our OWLs."

"And now I have two powerful groups after me: the Death Eaters and the Ministry," Harry continued. "I don't want to fight either of them — I'm just a student! — but neither of them are giving me much of a choice. If I can get rid of Voldemort, though, maybe the Ministry would get off my back."

"All that's true, Harry, but... I mean, muggle mercenaries? Really?"

Harry stopped and looked at her. "Voldemort has started attacking muggle Britain, don't forget."

Hermione's eyes widened slightly at the reminder. "That's true. Muggles have as much of a stake in stopping Voldemort as we do, even if they don't know it."

"So, will you help?" Harry sat back down next to her, a little closer than he had been before, and grabbed her hand. He didn't notice her blush when his green eyes stared into her brown ones.

"I... OK, but honestly, Harry, how am I supposed to find mercenaries?"

"Well..." he mused, "Dudley spends lots of time on the internet. Could that help?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "I suppose. My parents have internet service at home. I guess I could do some research, ask some questions when I go home for Christmas tomorrow..."

"Thanks, Hermione, you're the best!" Harry leaned over and pulled his best friend into a tight hug — the first time he'd ever initiated contact like that, as far as she could remember.

She sat frozen in surprise as Harry headed for the steps up to the boys' dorm, and only at the last second remembered to ask, "Harry, do you remember anything specific about these mercenaries?"

"Oh, right, good point," Harry replied, frowning in concentration. "I, uh... I can't think of anything in particular."

"Not even their names?" Hermione's good mood was quickly shifting to annoyance.

"Uh... oh! Yeah, I remember that," Harry exclaimed. "The A-Team!"

Grimmauld Place, One Week Later.

"Harry. James. Potter. How could you!"

"What?!" Harry was quickly backing up into his room in fear as a furious brunette witch advanced on him.

"Yeah, you tell him, Hermione," Ron said. "Stupid git locked himself in here, refusing to come out."

"We keep telling him that it's not his fault that our dad was attacked, but..." Ginny trailed off.

"Wait, Mr. Weasley was attacked?" Hermione interrupted, her rant briefly forgotten.

"Yeah, in the Department of Mysteries," Ron replied. "You mean, you didn't know?"

"That's why we all left Hogwarts early and weren't on the train," Ginny said.

Hermione shook her head. "Oh, I'd wondered about that. I'm so sorry — is he alright?"

Ron shrugged. "Well, he's been better, but he'll be fine eventually — thanks to Harry."

"If you're not here about Harry brooding and moping, then why are you here?" Ginny asked.

"That's right!" Hermione exclaimed, turning once again on the black-haired wizard, who'd mistakenly relaxed when the topic of conversation had shifted. "I've got a bone to pick with you!"

"What did I do?" Harry asked, backing up again.

"You... you... ugh! You made me look like a fool in front of the entire internet!"

"Innie-who?" Ron asked.

"The internet, Ron," Hermione explained. "Muggles use it to communicate. It's like a floo network, but for talking instead of traveling."

"How did I do that?" Harry asked.

"Because of that question you wanted me to research, what else!" Hermione half-shouted. "The A-Team doesn't exist!"

"But I heard about them on the telly!"

"Who's the A-Team?" Ginny asked.

"And why were they on the fellytision?" Ron added.

"You heard about them because they were an adventure comedy!" Hermione said. "I started asking about them on a website, and people laughed at me for being so stupid as to think that I could hire fictional characters!"

"Wait, wait, what's going on?" Ron asked.

Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. "Harry caught some of a show on the telly about muggle mercenaries in America. He asked me to look into hiring them to use against You-Know-Who."

"That's brilliant!" Ron's eyes lit up in excitement. "Did you get anywhere? Will they help?"

Alarmed at the look on Hermione's face, Ginny reached over and smacked him on the back of the head. "Ron, she just said they don't exist. They're a story, like those Martin the Mad Muggle comics you read all the time!"

Ron's brow furrowed in confusion. "You mean, Martin doesn't really exist?"

Ginny smacked Ron again as Hermione rolled her eyes heavenward. Rounding on Harry once more, she went on, "Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was to me?" She dropped her head into her hands. "I even used my real name when I created that account!"

"S-sorry?" Harry said quickly, holding up his hands in a sign of surrender until he backed into his bed, forcing him to sit down. "Look, I had no idea. I didn't actually see anything. I just heard it from my... well, I heard it while they were watching."

"I know, it's just... I felt like such an idiot when people on that site responded, pointing out that it was a cheesy 80s TV show."

"So, it was only the one place where you asked for help?" Harry asked, and Hermione nodded. "Well, how bad could it be? I mean, how many people are likely to have seen it?"

Hermione quirked one eyebrow at Harry's cavalier tempting of fate.

It was a few months later that an unfamiliar owl landed in front of Hermione during breakfast. She, Harry, and Ron were all wary of receiving post from unknown persons, so she cast several detection charms on the increasingly agitated owl before finally relieving it of its burden. The owl left in a flurry of feathers as she opened and scanned the letter, frowning as her eyes began at the top again.

"Is there a problem?" Harry asked. Ron continued to eat, though he looked concerned as well.

"It's... well, it's..." Hermione replied, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Finally, she simply handed the parchment over to Harry. "Here, you read it."

Harry's look of confusion only deepened as he studied the letter himself. "I don't understand," he said finally.

"I think it's about," Hermione said, looking around to see if anyone was listening, "you know, that issue I researched for you."

"Back during the Christmas hols, you mean?"

Hermione nodded. "This letter references several things I remember writing. Whoever wrote that had to have read what I posted."

Ron swallowed a large mouthful of food. "But how would any of those internutters find you here? They're muggles, aren't they?"

"Ron, they aren't..." Hermione paused, then shook her head. "Nevermind. I told you, I did use my real name. It's not impossible that they could have found me, especially if they know about the magical world."

"Or maybe someone magical saw it?" Harry suggested. "Someone who wants to help?"

"It could be a trap," Hermione pointed out.

By this point, Ron had taken the letter and was reading it. "I doubt it. How many Death Eaters pay attention to the muggle internut network?"

Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead, visibly struggling not to say something she might regret later. "I suppose you're right, but that doesn't mean we should blindly trust whoever this is."

"Agreed," Harry said. "But at the same time, we can't afford to ignore a potential opportunity to recruit some help." He pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. "Here, you should respond, since they contacted you."

"What should I say?"

"They want to meet, so suggest the next Hogsmeade day. We'll go as early as we can — that way we can avoid being seen with them."

Ron nodded. "Maybe we can get Fred and George to do something to delay the rest of the school from getting out of here on time. Even half an hour would help, but it wouldn't inconvenience others much."

"Alright," Hermione said, reluctant but unwilling to argue.

An exchange of letters by owl — and Hedwig always returned looking a bit confused, which worried Harry — produced an appointment to meet in a private room in the Three Broomsticks early on the next Hogsmeade weekend. Ron insisted on going too, since he didn't trust the mysterious offer of help any more than Hermione did. The twins were delighted with the challenge of delaying the rest of the student body and achieved their goal by ensuring that at least one wheel on each of the carriages was flat.

The fact that the carriages had wooden wheels without any air only made Umbridge all the more incensed.

"Do you see anyone?" Ron asked from the bottom of the ladder leading up to Honeydukes.

Harry pulled back his invisibility cloak and looked down from the open trap door. "No, no one's here. And I don't hear anything, either."

"Then let's get going before they open," Hermione insisted. "It's almost seven."

"I hope Madam Rosmerta serves us food," Ron muttered as he climbed up behind Harry. "I'm hungry."

He didn't see Hermione roll her eyes behind him as they exited the secret passage.

"It's weird seeing the village this early," Harry said once they were out on the street. "There's practically no one around."

Hermione nodded. "I've always wondered how much businesses in Hogsmeade rely on students spending money."

"You're here early," Rosmerta said when they entered the Three Broomsticks.

"We have an appointment," Harry replied. "We're supposed to meet someone in a private room?"

She nodded. "I was about to take back a tray of drinks and pastries."

"Brilliant!" Ron said, marching forward to follow as the woman led the way into the back. The smell of freshly-made pastries wafted in their wake, and even Harry and Hermione were forced to admit that they could stand to eat something. All three had left the castle before breakfast in order to make their early appointment.

"So, a pot of tea," Rosmerta said softly as she unloaded her tray, "some pastries, toast and jam. I think we're all set!"

"Thanks — this is brilliant!" Ron said as he grabbed a plate and dug in.

"Have the other... um, have the people we're meeting arrived?" Harry asked, looking around the room as he and Hermione served themselves.

Instead of answering immediately, Rosmerta closed and locked the door, then turned around to face the students.

"Madam Rosmerta...?" Hermione asked, her hand inching towards her wand.

The barmaid smiled as she dug into her neck with her fingers, then in one smooth, practiced motion, she pulled her face up over her head, revealing the visage of a much older man topped with silver hair. His weather-worn features had a relaxed, almost jovial look about them, but his keen eyes missed nothing as he sized them up.

"Colonel Hannibal Smith at your service," he announced as he pulled a cigar from somewhere in his robes and sat down. He paused a moment to light it and take a long pull before blowing smoke up in the air. "So, why do you want to hire the A-Team?"

"Bloody hell!" Ron hissed, his breakfast forgotten.

"You... you..." Hermione spluttered, but Colonel Smith merely raised one eyebrow. "You can't be you! I mean, you're just a fictional character! You're not real!"

"Ah, you mean that TV show?" Smith replied, frowning. "Yeah, we sold our story to some Hollywood hack a few years ago. Figured we could earn some money safely that way. Unfortunately, our lawyer didn't know what he was doing, and we got cheated on the deal." He took another pull from his cigar. "It wasn't a total loss, though. So long as people think we don't exist, it's easier to avoid getting noticed by the police."

Hermione simply gaped at him in shock. All three were speechless, in fact. They'd seen a lot of strange things in the wizarding world, but seeing an older man's face, smoking a cigar, perched atop Rosmerta's buxom figure easily ranked in the top five.

"So, you're real?" Harry finally asked. "I mean, you really do help people who are in trouble? People who can't turn to the law to help them?"

Smith nodded. "We're mercenaries, but we have our morals, too. We live by a code, the same code that inspired us to join the U.S. military in the first place. We don't work for evil people — murderers, rapists, and the like. Whenever possible, we prefer to work for good people who are seeking justice." He puffed his cigar thoughtfully, then added, "Of course, we also need to get paid. We do have bills of our own, you know."

"Brilliant," Harry said, smiling. "That's exactly what we need. You see, we have this little Dark Lord problem..."

Smith cut him off. "Voldemort? Yeah, we know about him. Wasn't sure if he was the one you wanted us to go after, or if you were more focused on what your government is doing to you."

"No, Voldemort is the biggest problem. I figure if he's taken care of, the Ministry won't be as much of an issue."

The colonel's smile was grim. "Don't count on it, kid. In my experience, once the government has its sights set on you, they tend to keep coming after you for a long, long time. And they rarely admit when they're wrong."

"Wait, wait," Hermione interrupted. "You know about Voldemort? You know about magic?"

"Sure," Smith replied. "One of my guys dated a couple of witches back in the States. He must have made a good impression on them, since they decided not to obliviate him when they broke up."

"Two different witches decided to let him keep his memories?" Ron asked.

Smith shrugged. "They were twins, and he was dating them at the same time. That probably helped."

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered, and Hermione elbowed him.

"Why didn't you disguise yourself with polyjuice, if you know about magic?" Ron asked, rubbing his side.

"Polyjuice doesn't work on muggles," Hermione answered.

"I wouldn't use it even if it did," Smith added. "I'm too old-school."

"Say, where's the real Rosmerta?" Hermione asked, eyes narrowed. "You didn't do anything to her, did you?"

"Of course not!" Smith protested. "What do you take me for? We simply needed her out of the way for a little bit, so Face is keeping her... occupied. Upstairs, somewhere, I think." All three slowly looked upward, wondering about silencing charms.

"So, uh, you know about Voldemort, then," Harry said after an awkward pause. "Are you willing to help me with him?"

"Perhaps," Smith said slowly. "Do you just want him gone, or do you want his merry band of minions dealt with, too?"

"Uh, I guess that getting as many of them as possible would be good," Harry admitted. "Too many were allowed to escape justice last time, and that prevented wizarding Britain from improving."

"Can't argue with you there," Smith agreed, "but that will take more time to arrange and will come with more risk, so the price will be higher."

"You're not bothered about fighting against magic?" Hermione asked. "I should think most muggles would be."

"We've done it before. Most wizards and witches don't have a good head for small unit tactics and have no idea how to handle muggle attacks, so it's possible for us to have a big advantage, providing we take them by surprise. Still, magic creates an added challenge, and that increases the cost as well."

"I have a bunch of gold in my trust vault," Harry said. "I don't know how much, but I'm sure I can get the goblins to tell me."

"Excellent!" Smith said, clapping his hands once as he stood. "I'll talk with my guys, and once we've worked out a figure, I'll contact you with a price as well as a Swiss bank account number. While we're doing that, I'd like you three to write down everything you know about Voldemort and his people. We already have some information, but that's only what's generally known to the public. The more we can get, the better we'll be able to plan. Every detail, no matter how small, might help."

"Sure, we can do that. I'll get my, um, godfather to help, too," Harry replied, standing as well. "He probably knows lots. Uh, assuming we can arrive at a price that works, when do you think you'll be able to start?"

"Hmmm... not for a few weeks, at least," Smith said, considering. "One of my associates... well, let's say he's not free at the moment; but even once he is, we have another job to take care of first. Will that be a problem?"

"No, not at all. To be honest, nothing usually happens to be until the end of the school year, so we have time."

"Yeah," Ron said, a thoughtful look on his face. "Come to think of it, things do usually happen to us at the end of every year, don't they?"

"That and Halloween," Hermione pointed out.

Harry shrugged. "I'm sure it's just a coincidence," he said before turning back to Smith. "Anyway, so long as I know that help is coming, I'll be able to hold out here."

"Great!" Smith held out a hand, and each of the students shook it. "Watch for my owl." It only took him a moment to pull his Rosmerta mask back on, and then he was out the door and gone.

"We're going to get into so much trouble," Hermione whispered, shaking her head.

"I thought he was brilliant!" Ron said.

Harry shrugged again. "Hey, it can't get any worse than usual, right?

Both his friends stared hard at him.

As it turned out, the cost of hiring the A-Team was more than what Harry had in his trust vault. Hermione managed to negotiate the price down by promising magical help from not only the three of them, but also the DA and a few trusted adults, but it was still more than Harry could afford. An inquiry about a loan from Gringotts led to the revelation that there was a Potter family vault as well, a vault with quite a bit more gold in it. Once Harry explained in vague terms what he wanted to do, the goblins granted him limited access despite his being underaged, and the gold was transferred to a muggle bank in Switzerland that had ties to the gnomes.

Hermione didn't like the idea of Harry reaching so deeply into his family's resources like that, but he pointed out that it wouldn't be of any use to him if he got killed fighting Voldemort. As far as Harry was concerned, it could cost every knut he had in both vaults and still be a bargain, assuming the A-Team was successful.

And as Colonel Hannibal Smith told them, the A-Team had never failed a single job they'd taken. Voldemort and his Death Eaters had no idea what was coming.