Harry Potter and The Stranger Things

Chapter 1 : The disappearance of Max Grime.

James I

James Potter was finally home after a gruelling year at Hogwarts. It wasn't that he didn't like being home—he had plenty of friends around to keep him from getting bored—but Hogwarts was different. There, he could use his wand freely, unlike at home, thanks to some stupid rules. Not that it stopped him from trying. Twice, he had used his wand, and twice, he had received a warning from the Ministry. His mother had simply said that even if Hogwarts didn't expel him on his third offense, she would. And James knew his mother well enough to know she didn't make empty threats. So he'd stopped. But now, he was bored again.

He was out with his friends. Half of them were family members, the other half neighbors. It was already ten at night—his mother was probably shrieking by now, planning his punishments, as his younger brother Albus constantly reminded him. But who cared? His brother would be a wimp if he went home alone right now. James certainly wasn't going to run home, not yet.

On the other hand, he couldn't quite understand why Rose was still with them, so he had to ask.

"Um, Rose, why haven't you run home to Mummy yet?" James asked, a teasing grin on his face.

She glared at him, replying with her usual condescending tone, "Not that it's any of your business, but Aunt Ginny asked me to keep an eye on you. I'm doing that right now."

"You're going to snitch on me?" James said, his grin widening. "You've always been a snitch."

Rose just sneered at him, too annoyed to even dignify his remark with a response. James didn't mind; she had been like this for as long as he could remember. What amused him was that she seemed genuinely annoyed by him, by his very existence, and he relished that feeling.

Aside from Rose, the group consisted of Max Grime and his sister, Bethany. They were twins, identical except that Bethany had longer hair and, well, other differences. They were a year younger than James, but they'd known each other forever since they lived in the same neighborhood. Max was just like James—always up for mischief—so he was fun to be around. Bethany, on the other hand, was more like Albus—whiny.

Then there was Jon Snow. He was one of those moody types, always brooding and keeping to himself. You might wonder why someone like him was hanging out with someone like James, who was his complete opposite in every way. The reason was simple: Jon had a crush on James's cousin, Rose. Not that Rose knew it, of course. Jon was the same age as James, in the same house, and, to top it all off, he played on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And if you're wondering how this sulky Jon Snow ended up at Hogwarts, he was a Muggle-born wizard. James had been quite surprised when he first saw Jon at school.

The five of them—James, Albus, Rose, Max, and Jon—were on a mission. That morning, James and Max had come up with the brilliant idea to go to the local graveyard at night and take a photo of the scariest grave in existence at exactly 10:15. Why 10:15? Because there was a rumour in town that a vengeful spirit appeared at that very time for a few minutes at the grave. So they were doing it as a dare. Spirits? Really? James thought it was a pretty weak dare, but Max didn't seem to understand that. Albus was a bit scared because of the word "vengeful," which made it all the more fun.

James had called Jon to join them, and, as expected, Jon had said no. But James had casually mentioned that it would just be him, Albus, Max, Bethany, and Rose at the graveyard at night, so of course, Jon had followed like a dutiful dog. James already knew Rose would come along; she never backed down from a challenge, especially when provoked.

Now, the concept of smartphones might be tricky for most of the wizarding population, but James had grown up in a Muggle town, so he owned one. He couldn't bring it to Hogwarts (all that hocus pocus magic interfered), but it was useful at home.

Finally, they reached their destination. It was 10:05. Who would be the one to venture into the graveyard? They decided to draw sticks—whoever got the short one would have to go and capture the moment with the "very sweet vengeful ghost." Albus looked terrified.

"If you think I'm going to participate in this ludicrous plan of yours, you must be dreaming," Rose said in her superior tone.

"If you're too scared, you're welcome to go home," James replied sweetly, knowing full well that Rose would never back down from a challenge.

"You know what? I'll be the one to do this dare. You can sit here and watch—no need to draw sticks, Potter," Rose said defiantly.

"Tut, tut, where's the fun in that?" James asked.

"The fun is in you getting to see me harassed by a 'vengeful spirit,' if there's one," Rose said.

"Come on, let's do the draw and let fate decide who gets harassed," James said, grinning.

"Okay, just do it and be done with it," Rose sighed.

They drew sticks, and to James's surprise, it was Max who got the short one. Max, ever the daredevil, ventured into the graveyard, selfie stick in hand. The others watched via video call as he trekked the short distance, enjoying himself immensely. There was no spirit—yet—a slight disappointment, but James could live with that.

"What's that?" Albus asked suddenly, his voice quivering.

"What's what?" James asked, peering over Albus's shoulder.

"In the video... something's behind Max," Albus stammered.

The moment he said that, they all heard a scream—both from the phone and from the graveyard. When they hastily looked back at the phone screen, it was most likely on the ground, showing nothing but the dark sky. Without hesitation, they ran towards the graveyard, fearing the worst. Knowing Max, it could be him fooling around, but deep down, James knew the difference between a prank and real danger. This was the latter.

When they reached the spot, they saw only one thing: blood. And lots of it. The phone lay discarded on the ground. James instinctively reached for his wand.

"Oh, shit, I forgot my wand," James muttered, realizing too late his mistake. But Rose and Jon had theirs out. Jon spoke for the third time that night, his voice steady, "You all get out of here. I'll go after Max."

"I'm coming too!" James insisted.

"No, don't," Jon said firmly and started running toward the forest, where Max had most likely been dragged by... whatever it was.

"James, get Beth and Al out of here!" Rose commanded. But James grabbed her wrist, noticing for the first time that Bethany was crying hysterically, calling out for her brother, while Albus struggled to restrain her from running after Max.

"Give me your wand, Rose. You barely know any defensive spells," James said to his cousin, "and get them out of here." Before Rose could protest, he snatched the wand from her. "Get them out of here!" he repeated before sprinting in the direction Jon had gone.

After a minute or two of running, he found Jon, his wand alight, staring at the ground where the trail of blood suddenly ended.

"So, any lead?" James asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"No," Jon replied without looking back. "You should've stayed with the others. They could be in danger."

Jon turned to go back the way they had come.

"You're not telling me you're giving up on Max, are you?" James shouted, his voice rising with panic. "He's out there, bleeding! We can't just leave him like that!"

"Listen," Jon said, his voice tight with frustration. "I don't want to leave anyone out here. But we don't have a clue what we're up against, and we have three defenseless friends behind us who could be hunted just like Max."

With that, Jon turned and started running back toward the others. James stood there for a moment, his mind reeling. How had things gotten so serious? How could one of his friends be bleeding out there, possibly dying? How could he just leave him like that?

At that moment, James felt like a coward as he started running back towards his friends, his brother, and his cousin.

Harry I

It had been two decades since that day—the day he had conquered death. Or had he? Being the Chosen One who vanquished the Dark Lord was a title that had never meant much to Harry. If he was honest with himself, the only thing that truly mattered was the freedom he had gained that day. From that moment onward, he no longer had to live in fear of death. Only good things had happened since then. He had a family now, and it was the most wonderful part of his life.

Harry's musings were interrupted when someone entered his office unannounced.

"Potter?"

"Have you ever heard of knocking?" Harry asked, turning to face the intruder.

"Same could be said about you, Potter. You walked in on my father and mother—"

"Blah, blah, blah." Harry plugged his ears with his index fingers as Ron Weasley began recounting that horrendous day.

"I received a Patronus from your wonderful wife, telling me to drag you home, or else she'll kill me," Ron said, laughing as he reminisced about Harry walking in on Mr. And Mrs. Weasley In action.

"Again?" Harry asked.

"Yes, again," Ron replied. "Planning on going home?"

"I was just about to, right after I received the report from Dorthivok," Harry said as someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," Harry called, and a tall, burly man entered.

"Right on cue, this one," Ron remarked as he sat down in one of the chairs.

"Sir, sir," Dorthivok stammered, looking between Harry and Ron. "I finally received the report on the Applebee case, sir." The report floated over to Harry, who flicked his wand to make a copy. The duplicate report then floated over to Ron.

"Thank you for your work, Dorthivok. You'll receive word by morning," said Harry. "You're dismissed."

With another "Sir, sir," Dorthivok left the room.

"Applebee? I thought it was just a case of smoke in the wind," Ron said as he began reading the report.

"I thought so too," Harry replied, "but I received another case today that's eerily similar. I had to see if we missed something, and you came just in time to help me read it."

"Yes, right on time," Ron snorted. "What are we looking for?"

"Mostly motive," Harry said.

"Alright, Harry, in the Applebee case, it was a Muggle-born infant who was kidnapped, and we found the body burned, We were greens at that time but we did try everything we could. What kind of development have you found though?"

"Here," said Harry, tossing another report to Ron, who caught it.

"The Singward case? It's a Muggle case, Harry," Ron said, puzzled.

"It is, and it's as old as our Applebee case."

"So what?"

"Will you just read it?"

After scanning the report, Ron looked at Harry with an open mouth. "But it can't be! You don't think this Singward was another Muggle-born?"

"That's the only thing that's different," Harry replied. "I visited McGonagall today to clarify how we know if someone is Muggle-born. She said it's simple—Hogwarts knows more specifically every magical child born to wizards or muggles is registered after their own first bout of accidental magic."

"So that means he wasn't?"

"According to McGonagall, no, but do we really know? What if he was? He didn't even get a chance to do accidental magic, Applebee as an infant did, but how many infant do you know does that. Did you? Whoever targeted him might have known that because, Ron, everything else in these two cases is identical."

"Yes, you are right. My parents told me I did accidental magic around the age of three, chances are high of him being a muggleborn. Both were kidnapped on the same day, both were infants, barely a few months old, and both were found utterly burned, only identified by some remaining tissue," Ron replied.

"What should I do—" Harry was cut off as an otter flew into the office and landed in front of Ron.

"Ron, get home with Harry. It's an emergency."

Hermione I

Life had turned out just as she had always dreamed. She had Ron, two wonderful kids, and a career where she could make a real difference. Her daughter was her pride—intelligent, smart, and responsible. People often said she was like her mother. But Hermione knew her daughter better. She was more like her father. She never backed down from food and sweets, wasn't afraid of flying, and was funny, just like Ron. She had even defeated her father at chess. If that didn't prove she was more like Ron, Hermione didn't know what did. Her son, on the other hand, didn't like flying and always ran away from a chess game. He didn't care much for sweets and was lazy, but he was a quick learner.

So, if everything was so wonderful, why was Hermione pacing around in her sister-in-law's house? Why were there police officers talking to two distraught parents in the living room, while children cried their eyes out?

She was lost in her thoughts when she heard two men come running into the house. It was Ron and Harry. Rose ran to hug her father, as did Albus. The kids were clearly distraught, especially after what had happened just half an hour ago.

Ron and Harry walked towards her after a couple of minutes.

"What happened?" Ron asked.

"Max. He's gone missing," Hermione replied.

"Max? The Grimes' kid?" Harry asked, bewildered. "How did it happen?"

"The kids were together, planning some sort of dare in the graveyard near the forest," Hermione explained. "Max was supposed to do the dare, so they all separated from him. The others were talking to him on a live video call while he did it—just clicking a picture with a haunted grave—but something attacked him. James and Jon tried to find him, but they couldn't. They saw a lot of blood. After that, they ran back here," she finished.

"These kids. You don't think it was some kind of wild animal, do you? Cause last we checked, there were none in the forest," Ron asked. Hermione shook her head. "That's exactly what the officers here think."

"I'll talk to the kids," Harry said, leaving them.

"Why is the police here, though?" Ron asked.

"The Grimes are Muggles. At least you don't say 'pleasemen' anymore," Hermione whispered.

Almost an hour later, the police officers left Harry's house after getting everyone's testimonies. Harry and Ginny walked the Grimes back to their house. Jon Snow's uncle took him home, and after another hour passed, they managed to get their kids to bed.

The four adults were now sitting in the living room, drinking coffee.

"It's best if we go now," Harry said.

"The police are out there searching the woods as we speak," Hermione said.

"They won't notice us," Harry replied. "We can do magic."

As Hermione was about to retort, Ron spoke up. "Harry and I can go. We can search; it'll be far easier with magic than with Muggle means, anyway."

"Alright be careful" Hermione said

Ron I

After a whole night of searching the forest, trying every spell known to mankind, Ron and Harry had come up empty-handed. The first rays of daylight were beginning to filter through the trees, and they knew the policemen were scouring the forest. Ron and Harry had been discreet, checking every possible hiding spot where the beast could have stashed the boy, but they realized they were failing miserably. Ron didn't want to go home, especially empty-handed. That just meant Hermione would say, "I told you so." Even in this situation, she was that vindictive.

"Let's go home, Harry," Ron said in a defeated voice. Harry looked like he still didn't want to give up, as if he wanted to keep trying. But he could see that his friend had given up on the forest. To find the answer to where the boy was, they would have to look elsewhere.

James II

It had been twenty-four hours since it happened, and James knew that neither his parents nor the police had managed to find Max. He was growing angrier by the minute because it was his fault that Max was in this situation. If he hadn't dragged everyone out there for some stupid dare, none of this would have happened. Even with the help of magic, his parents, his aunt Hermione, and uncle Ron had failed to find Max. That meant he had to do something. They weren't looking hard enough. He had already dismissed any rational thoughts from his head as he decided to go and look for Max himself.

He had already borrowed his dad's Invisibility Cloak from his room this afternoon when all the adults were out. His dad, uncle, and aunt were still not home, and his mother was in the living room, thinking he was asleep. It was the perfect opportunity to slip outside.

What he hadn't realized was that he was being followed by his cousin Rose and his brother Albus. When he reached the intersecting roads—one led to the forest, the other to the town's high school—he noticed someone standing near a tree. As he got closer, he realized it was Jon Snow, who was looking straight at him. But how could he? James was invisible!

So James did the only reasonable thing he could think of in that moment—he revealed himself to Jon and asked, "How did you know I was here?"

"I didn't. I was looking behind you," Jon replied.

James turned around and saw his brother and cousin standing a few yards away.

"You two—what are you doing here?" James shouted.

"Same as you, trying to find Max," Rose replied.

"But—" James began, only to be cut off by Rose.

"I know what you're thinking," she said quickly. "But I'm tired of sitting around doing nothing. Max is my friend too—and his sister is my best friend. I have to help."

James sighed heavily, realizing there was no point in arguing. He turned to Jon, raising an eyebrow. "And how did you end up here?"

"I called him," Albus admitted, raising a hand as if he were in class.

"Right, now that it's all out in the open," Jon said, stepping forward, "shall we get on with it?"

"Fine," James grumbled. "You two—stay close," he added, pointing sternly at Rose and Albus.

The group moved cautiously towards the forest, their nerves taut with anticipation. They didn't dare call out Max's name; they knew better than to attract unwanted attention in the dark, foreboding woods. After what felt like hours of searching, the skies opened up, and a light drizzle quickly turned into a heavy downpour. Albus and Rose had been sensible enough to bring umbrellas, shielding them from the worst of the rain, but the cold, wet conditions were taking their toll.

Suddenly, they heard the sound of someone—or something—running through the trees. They all raised their wands instinctively, their hearts pounding in their chests. Out of the darkness stumbled a child, drenched and shivering. James squinted in the dim light, taken aback by the child's eyes. They were a vibrant purple, almost glowing, with swirling patterns that looked like waves crashing in the ocean.

"Are you alright?" James asked, lowering his wand and reaching out to help the child to their feet.

The child didn't respond, simply staring at him with a puzzled expression, as if trying to make sense of his words. James gently tugged the child's wrist, pulling them under the shelter of the umbrella. As the rain-soaked white T-shirt clung to the child's body, James realized with a jolt that this wasn't a boy at all, but a girl. His face flushed, and he quickly let go of her wrist, mumbling an apology.

The girl just stood there, dripping and silent, her eerie purple eyes still fixed on him as if she were studying him, trying to decide whether he was friend or foe. The rain continued to pour down around them, the forest growing darker and more menacing by the minute.

James and his friends felt defeated. Their search had turned up nothing, except now he was walking alongside a young girl. Was she his age? Perhaps. Her head was almost completely shaved, with just a stubble of hair left. Was it called an army cut? It was still raining, though not as heavily as before. They all walked closely together. Once they got home, he'd try to get some information out of the girl, but she looked so small and frightened that he wasn't sure he had the heart to interrogate her. Was he doing the right thing? He couldn't just leave a young girl out here in the forest, especially when another had gone missing just the day before.

When they finally emerged from the forest, James felt his soul leave his body. His mother was standing in the middle of the road, staring right at him. Goosebumps prickled his skin. She didn't even have an umbrella. Clearly, she had been searching for them. Now that she had found them, he knew he'd rather face whatever had taken Max than be here with his mother because she was going to kill him.

Hermione II

As Hermione stepped into the Potters' living room, she paused. Her husband and Harry were sprawled on the sofa, fast asleep, leaning on each other as if their exhaustion had finally overtaken them. The scene felt oddly serene, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. She turned her gaze towards the kitchen, where Ginny was quietly preparing lunch. The kids were upstairs; Hugo and Rose had stayed over the night before. Rose, especially, had been shaken by the events.

At dawn, Ron and Harry had returned from their search for the missing boy, their faces grim. They hadn't found him—no spells had worked, not even those meant for tracking wild animals, magical or otherwise. As they recounted their fruitless search, Hermione's unease deepened. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. These were two of the best Aurors around, men who had taken down dark wizards across the globe. Finding a young boy should have been simple. But the same sense of dread that had gnawed at her the previous night now tightened its grip.

"Hermione, could you wake them up?" Ginny's voice pulled her back to the present. Hermione nodded and gently nudged her husband and Harry awake. They grumbled but quickly sat up, alert.

"Did you find anything?" Harry asked, now fully awake, his voice tense with worry.

"I did," Hermione replied, though her words were heavy with hesitation. "It's a ritual. Some might consider it dark. But it could help us find him—wherever he is." She didn't want to resort to dark magic, but every second wasted was a second closer to losing the boy forever. Harry nodded without hesitation, his resolve unshaken. Ron gave her a reassuring smile, though she could see the concern lurking behind his eyes.

"But we need something of Max's," Hermione continued. "The ritual is complex. It takes at least an hour, and we'll be out in the open. If we try to create wards, it might not even work. We'll have to do it in daylight."

"What about Muggles?" Ron asked, frowning. "It's going to be hard to hide something like that without wards."

"I'm sorry, but this is the only method I found that guarantees results—if it's done correctly," Hermione said, feeling a pang of defeat.

"We'll figure it out, love," Ron reassured her.

"We could do it at Crater's Cliff," Harry suggested. "Hardly anyone goes there."

"That's perfect," Hermione agreed, a hint of relief in her voice. "It's an elevated spot overlooking the lake. Plenty of sunlight. The ritual should work well there."

"What do we need for the ritual—" Harry began, but was cut off by the sound of footsteps. The kids were coming downstairs, Ginny following closely behind. The living room quickly filled with a heavy silence as everyone gathered.

"We'll discuss it later," Hermione whispered. "Let's just get some food in everyone first." Ginny waved her wand, and lunch floated towards the table.

"What about you? Aren't you going to eat?" Harry asked, his concern evident.

"I'll eat when I get back," Ginny replied, already moving towards the door. "I need to check on the Grimes."

The kids picked at their food in silence. James pushed his food around on his plate, his thoughts clearly elsewhere, while Albus looked like he might be sick. Rose glared at her toast, as if it had personally wronged her. Lily and Hugo ate quietly, their eyes flicking nervously between the adults and their older siblings. Hermione, Harry, and Ron tried to coax them into eating, but only managed to get a few reluctant bites down before the children disappeared upstairs once more. By the time Ginny returned, the plates were mostly untouched.

"They ate, right?" Ginny asked, her eyes scanning the table.

"A little," Ron answered, his voice low.

"What are you going to do?" Ginny asked, her voice tight. Hermione could feel the tension rolling off her in waves. Ginny was angry, scared—but she was holding it together, for the kids' sake.

"We're doing a ritual," Harry said, standing up. Ron followed, and Hermione gave Ginny a quick hug before the three of them Disapparated to Grimmauld Place.

Once there, Hermione explained what they needed: something of Max's. Ron returned with one of Max's t-shirts, while Harry gathered the necessary ingredients for the potion. Ron then went ahead to Crater's Cliff to ensure the area was clear of any unwanted visitors.

By four o'clock, the three of them were standing on the edge of Crater's Cliff, the misty lake stretching out below. There was an eerie calm, the kind that felt like the world was holding its breath. Hermione set to work, drawing runes with pig's blood, as required by the ritual. Ron and Harry stood watch, ready to use Confundus Charms on any Muggles who might wander too close.

Hermione carefully recited the incantation, each word weighed down with the gravity of what they were doing. Afterward, she drank half of the potion and poured the rest onto the ground. She placed Max's t-shirt in the center of the runes and set it ablaze. With a deep breath, she spoke the final incantation:

"Ad investigandum corpus et spiritum pueri perditi Maxmillan Grime."

As the last word left her lips, the world around her twisted. The cliff, the lake, everything shifted into something darker, more sinister. The water below wasn't water anymore—it was blood. And the air, thick and oppressive, pressed down on her. She felt a pull and found herself in a graveyard, ancient and rotting. A trail of blood led her forward, and she followed it, her heart pounding. Finally, she saw Max. He was propped against a decaying tree, his eyes wide and vacant, one arm missing. Horror gripped her.

Suddenly, she heard it—a sound behind her, something running, fast. She spun around, and there it was—a figure, tall, faceless, charging at her. It didn't have a face. It was a blur of darkness and malice. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the impact.

"Hermione! Hermione!" The voice calling her name was distant at first, then closer, more urgent. She opened her eyes to see Ron's worried face inches from hers. She was shaking, her entire body trembling uncontrollably. Harry stood nearby, his wand out, eyes scanning the area for any threat.

"Hey, love. You're alright," Ron whispered, rubbing her arms gently. The reality of what she had seen crashed over her, and she collapsed into Ron's arms, sobbing uncontrollably, the weight of the vision too much to bear.

...

Author's Note : I have used AI for writing this story. I like reading it, it's a mash up of Harry Potter and Stranger things (Two asoiaf characters thrown into the mix)

About the story Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and James S Potter are going to have the most POV. No stranger things characters are included only setting and premise.