Okay, so, I know a few of you are eagerly awaiting my Dark Souls crossover, pairing Harry up with Priscilla. I do have bad news and good news on that front. The bad news, or at least the first lot, is that Wings of Sin pretty much fell apart, much to my frustration. The good news is that I found a way to do Quebrith (a story concept many of you preferred to Wings of Sin), and it seemed to work...up to a point. That's the second lot of bad news. A combination of burnout, plus some dissatisfaction with a lack of Harry/Priscilla fluff, means that I have opted to take a break from writing it after reaching the sixth chapter, which had a reunion between Harry/Quebrith, and Quelaag and 'Quelaan'. This does NOT mean that Quebrith has been abandoned. As I said, I am taking a rest from it, and reconsidering the structure of the story after the first few chapters.
That being said, I have a very exciting crossover idea with another Souls game. It's the one that has truly captured my imagination, and after some frustrating beginnings, is certainly higher in my mind than Dark Souls.
I am talking about Bloodborne, naturally.
Now, I have already made a Bloodborne crossover, in the form of a oneshot crossover with Neil Gaiman's famous comic series The Sandman, called Galatea. I've plugged it before, and I will plug it again for all you Bloodborne fans, and for fans of The Sandman too. But I did have at the back of my mind that I did want to do a Potterverse crossover. I didn't want to make it a mere walkthrough, so to speak, of the main game, as that has more or less been done by other writers, with the best examples being Touched by the Arcane by lisbeth00, and Harry Potter and the Nightmare Newborn by shabbacabba, though I would be remiss not to mention Akallas von Aerok's Oh, Merciful Hunter as another excellent example of the crossover. I do intend to deal with events in the game, as I am already royally reaming the timeline, as you'll discover when you read this chapter (blame the Great Ones for what happened with time flows).
However, I decided to actually have Harry get involved with the Old Hunters, with Byrgenwerth and pre-Hunter's Dream Gehrman. And he will be paired with Maria. Admittedly, I haven't played up to that part yet (I've barely made any headway into the Hunter's Nightmare, and in the main game, I'm yet to defeat Rom), but a combination of lore videos (thank you especially VaatiVidya), wikis and other fanfics have helped bring me up to speed. My depiction of Maria is heavily influenced by Onceuponalime226's Red Yharnam and A Cainhurst Sojourn, which has Maria take the player character's place, and that author's take on the lore is, along with TV Tropes' timeline, the main basis for my backstory here. That being said, I also took a few elements here and there from ASouffleToServeTwo's The Origin of Dreams, which, while it makes mistakes about Caryll and Rom's genders, is nonetheless a brilliant bit of work that every Bloodborne fan should read, along with Red Yharnam.
That being said, for those who are fans of Bloodborne, be warned: I am bashing a number of the characters, especially Gehrman, Willem, and Laurence. Oddly enough, I don't really intend to do any bashing on the Potterverse side of things, save to parties who deserve it, like Snape or Umbridge...
Anyway, I hope you enjoy...
JAEGEREI
CHAPTER 1:
SIND SIE DAS ESSEN? NEIN, WIR SIND DER JAEGER!(1)
Nothing ever changed at Castle Cainhurst.
This fact ate away at the heart of the teenaged girl with deathly pale skin, and equally pale skin and eyes, as she walked down to the courtyard, ready to begin her latest training in combat. While the ladies of Cainhurst Castle were expected to know some fighting ability, lest they insult their queen, few had dedicated themselves to learning pure combat ability than this girl. This was, admittedly, born of her disgust towards her family's…abilities, something that earned her scorn, and yet, nobody could scorn either her talent or ability to fight, even behind her back.
Oh, they called her tomboyish and mannish behind her back, even when she still dressed as elegantly as a Cainhurst noble should. Even though they knew long dresses and skirts and corsets would get in the way of fighting, they still sneered and scoffed. But they could never deny her fighting ability. Even if she wasn't the best of the fighters here, she was better than most.
But she felt ill at ease. Rumours of monsters beyond the castle walls, and knowledge of monsters within them. The desire to do something good for the world, rather than sit back in idle hedonism within Castle Cainhurst, prey to the petty infighting between branches of the family, jockeying for royal favour. Queen Annalise even encouraged it, not merely to protect her position, but also to stave off boredom.
She wished for something novel, for something new, as she trudged through thick snowdrifts. She doubted she would ever get it. Nothing ever changed at Castle Cainhurst.
And yet, something did.
As if someone flicked a switch, there was suddenly the sound of screaming above her. She looked up in time to see the source plunge into a deep snowdrift. For a moment, she stared, baffled. She was nowhere near a castle wall, so this couldn't have been one of her more sadistic relatives disregarding the queen's edict (to avoid wasting too many servants' lives) and tossing one off a roof or out of a window.
Galvanised into action, if only to investigate the cause, she went over to the snowdrift and began pulling clumps of snow away from the cavity made. She found a couple of bodies within. One, a boy somewhat older than her, in his late teens, seemed to be dead, if the wide eyes, imbecilic gape of the mouth, or lack of breathing or pulse told her anything, but the other seemed to be alive, as he was gently groaning in pain. A boy, about her age, with a messy shock of dark hair, scrawny, a distinct scar marring his forehead with a lightning bolt-like symbol. Both were dressed in odd robes. They didn't look like those favoured by Byrgenwerth scholars, and she was considering joining them once she was old enough.
And then, the surviving boy's eyes snapped open, revealing themselves to be a beautiful emerald. That beauty, however, was marred by his panic. He flailed to clamber out of the snow, and stood, looking around in panic. "Where is this? Where am I? This…this castle isn't Hogwarts."
Hogwarts? What a plebeian name for a castle. His accent suggested Yharnamite heritage. Maria decided a gentle, diplomatic approach was needed. However he came to be here, it wasn't his intended destination, and whatever it may do to malicious intruders, guests were to be treated hospitably. "You are at Castle Cainhurst."
"Cainhurst? I don't know where that is. Is it in Europe? You sound like you come from Eastern Europe or something."
"I beg your pardon? The nearest city is Yharnam, to the southeast," she said, not sure whether she should find his mistaken and delusional assumptions insulting or not. Deciding to stick with the diplomatic approach, she said, "You are fortunate I found you first. Had the guards or servants found you first, then they may have killed you on sight as an intruder, or at least thrown you into an oubliette. Castle Cainhurst is dangerous to wander without leave."
He looked around wildly, before finding the corpse next to him. "Cedric…dammit," he muttered. "Look, I need to find out where I am, and contact Dumbledore, someone, anyone…he's come back, and I couldn't stop him."
"If we can get in touch with the people you wish to, we'll do so," she said. "But do not make demands with impunity here. It may cost you your life. I am Lady Maria Cain. Who are you?"
He looked at her, as if properly seeing her for the first time, before he sighed, resignedly. "My name is…"
"Gehrman."
In the dark, decrepit room, one of a pair of intertwined figures shifted. "What about him?"
The owner of the first voice, a pale-skinned woman with silvery white hair, pale eyes and a husky accent, looked pensive. "…Did we do the right thing? Should we have tried to find him?"
"Probably. But even if he survived falling off the cliff, he's not going to be fighting for a long time. But do you mean did we do the right thing fighting him?"
"…No. I had no idea his obsession with me was that strong. I knew he was attracted to me, but I had thought he respected our friendship. Instead…he tried killing you with that Hunter disguised as a brigand while they were butchering Kos. I barely believe it even with the admission coming from his own lips. He taught us how to fight, how to be Hunters…and yet, he betrayed us."
"More than him," the young man she was sharing her bed with said. "I mean, I was suspicious of Willem from the beginning, but I didn't think he would go so far as to order what happened to the Fishing Hamlet. Rom must've sent that letter before Kos turned her into that…thing. And it wasn't enough that they slaughtered innocent people, I could understand that if it was a paranoid overreaction to a Great One, but…cutting their heads open? Looking for Willem's damned 'eyes on the inside'?"
"We shall be having nightmares of that night until the end of our days," the woman said solemnly. "I became a Hunter to slaughter monsters, not people twisted into monstrous forms, but not in mind. And Kos…she did not demand our worship or give us the same gift she gave to those people…a Great One, capable of more kindness than those bastards who cut her and her child apart. The irony is far from lost on me. But…I daresay Willem may yet send more pursuers. It may be that Gehrman volunteered."
"Then we will fight them all. We kill them if we need to. Almost everyone at Byrgenwerth are complicit in that crime, but Willem, Laurence, Ludwig, Gehrman, Micolash…they are monsters. The only consolation is that I'm sure Willem and Laurence will part ways soon."
The woman scoffed. "Laurence was always too ambitious for his own good. Much like Willem. No wonder the pair of them kept arguing. And Rom's fate hasn't deterred them one iota. I will miss Caryll, though. For all her faults, she was only dedicated to intellectual pursuit, not ambition. But…Byrgenwerth…it is too much like Cainhurst for my liking, and it pains me that it took me so long to see this. The only difference is that they pursue knowledge, and even then, they do so to accumulate personal power."
"Yeah, it's like if Ravenclaw acted more like Slytherins."
At this, silence fell, thick, heavy and uncomfortable. The woman soon asked, "If you could go back, you would take me, wouldn't you?"
"Of course. You asked me this before, and I would take you back in a heartbeat…assuming there's anything to go back to. It's been ten years now, and even if Voldemort was stopped, at what cost would it be? How many of my friends would be dead? And I don't have Cedric's body to give to them anymore. He was buried at Cainhurst, and I doubt they'd welcome us back with open arms."
"I would be welcomed back, certainly, if I felt so inclined to go back. As for you…well, even my word may not be enough to prevent punishment, though Annalise might be amused enough by the whole thing to let it slide. She'd call it an elopement, and demand to know why she wasn't invited to the wedding."
Bleak chuckles filled the room. "…That wouldn't be so bad, though, wouldn't it? Being wed?" the man asked.
"Of course not. Just do not expect me to be a demure and overly obedient wife."
"Hey, I'm the one who does most of the cooking. Remember when you tried to cook? Or Gehrman, for that matter? And the less said about the Laurence Lamb Stew Incident, the better."
More chuckles, a little less bleak, filled the room. Fond memories, albeit tainted by the revelation of the true characters of those behind the incidents, touched their minds. Laughter may not be the best medicine, but it helped relieve some ailments.
However, into that room came something else. An ethereal song touched their ears, and a brilliant light, like a fire, appeared near the bed. The occupants of said bed sat up, fumbling for weapons, only for the man to suddenly put his hand on the woman's arm. "Wait…I know that song…"
The light coalesced into a magnificent flame-coloured bird. It peered at them curiously. "…Fawkes?" the man asked, astonished.
"…You know this bird? Is this the Phoenix your Headmaster had?"
"Yes, but…how is he here? Wait, never mind that. If he got here, then maybe he can bring us back. Quickly, let's get dressed and get ready. If Fawkes is here, then maybe they have survived anyway…"
Professor Albus Dumbledore was a man of many names, many years, and many regrets. Many of them revolved around admittedly a small group of people in particular. He regretted how his relationship with his family deteriorated, how he was seduced by Gellert's ideals, how that led to a fatal battle, fatal for his sister. He regretted not doing more to shape a young Tom Riddle, to guide him away from his dark path. And he regretted many of his actions, or lack thereof, with Harry Potter.
Dumbledore should have seen the tampering with the Portkey coming. But Barty Crouch Junior's performance as Alastor Moody was too good, fooling even Dumbledore, much to the old man's chagrin. And worse, Crouch Junior, despite confessing what had happened, had been Kissed by a Dementor that fool Fudge had brought with him. Said fool refused to believe that Voldemort could have been responsible for Harry and Cedric Diggory's disappearance, and had launched into a smear campaign against Dumbledore.
It had been nearly three weeks since that debacle. Dumbledore was under pressure to resign as Chief Warlock, thanks to Voldemort's underlings whispering in Fudge's ear and passing him money. Voldemort was remaining in the shadows, readying his forces, while weakening his enemy through political machinations.
There remained one ray of hope, albeit a slender one. After Severus went to Voldemort, and went through the needed grovelling and enduring Cruciatus Curses for Voldemort to reluctantly accept him back into the fold, he learned something interesting. Harry was not a captive of the Dark Lord. Rather, he'd attempted to flee with Cedric's corpse and the Portkey, only for a hastily-fired spell from Pettigrew to hit the Portkey just as it activated. Harry may have escaped…though finding him was proving a trial.
Hence tonight.
Tonight had been the result of days of preparation, a ritual that was designed to pinpoint Harry's location, and allow Fawkes to retrieve him. The Phoenix had the best chance of finding him, wherever he was. And Fawkes had vanished. Several minutes had passed, but Dumbledore hoped, albeit perhaps too optimistically, that this was a sign of success, not failure. If there had been immediate danger, Fawkes would have escaped. It didn't preclude him being attacked or captured, but…
Suddenly, there was the distinct sound of Phoenix song, and Fawkes, with a pair of figures holding onto him, appeared in a blast of flame. Dumbledore was honestly glad that he had nobody else present, though, for he was sure that he had failed. The two figures that appeared were adult.
They appeared to be dressed in heavy clothing, reminiscent of the Georgian era, maybe even the Victorian, but with a practical air to them. Both wore heavy leather coats and wide-brimmed hats, and, disconcertingly, seemed well-armed. Both were looking at him, though with one of their features obscured, all he could tell was that one of them was a woman.
She looked at him warily, her gaze cool and appraising. With such pale skin, eyes and hair, she could have been a Lovegood or an Ollivander, though she was also quite tall. Her face was beautiful, in a proud, aristocratic way, but with no snobbery present in the set of her lips or the gaze of her eyes. She was assessing him as to whether he was a threat. This woman was most definitely a warrior and an aristocrat.
She spoke, her sultry but cultured voice having a vaguely Slavic accent, or perhaps Czech or Slovak? "I presume you are the owner of this…admittedly magnificent bird?"
"Indeed I am, Miss…?"
"…I am Lady Maria Cain," the woman said, her tone holding a soft rebuke, looking him up and down, before turning to her companion, who wore a scarf wrapped around his mouth, and his hat obscured the rest of his features. "It seems your description of him was accurate. I feel a seizure coming on just from looking at him. Even Kos making mental contact with us was not as deleterious."
But then, he heard a voice. So different, and yet, so similar. "…How long?"
"I'm sorry?"
"How long since the Third Task? I didn't expect to see you here, alive, unless it was much older." The tone held pain and desperation, that gradually but surely rose to a quiet near-hysteria. "And yet…it can't have been that long."
Dumbledore frowned. An impossible notion was coming to mind. Why else would he ask so desperately about the Third Task. "It is July 15th, 1995. But…would you show me your face? Carefully, now," he said, fingering the Elder Wand beneath his robes.
A bleak chuckle escaped the lips of the man, before he tugged down the scarf…and then removed his hat. What was revealed was an impossibility, and considering the confusion on the young man's face, it was mutual. It was like looking at James Potter reborn, in his mid-twenties, but with emerald eyes, and messier hair. And, of course, there was the scar, but faded, and yet, seeming almost etched into his forehead more than before.
But there were also changes to the way he acted. Gone was the boy. Now, there was a man, every bit a warrior as the woman Maria. And judging by his hollow, shadowed eyes, he had seen much…too much.
"That's impossible," what seemed to be an older Harry Potter said quietly. "I was gone for ten years, not for a few weeks. What the hell is going on?"
"That, Harry…is what I intend to find out…"
CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:
So, Harry was part of the Old Hunters. But what the hell is going on? We'll reveal at least part of what happened to Harry in flashbacks. As to time differences, well, time is bullshit in Bloodborne, given what happens with the Hunter's Dream, after all…
1. The chapter title comes from the initial lines of Feuerroter Pfeil und Bogen, aka Guren no Yumiya, the first opening theme of Attack on Titan. In English, it means, at least in Jonathan Young's cover of the song, "Are you the prey? No, we are the Hunters!"
