(AN:) Crossover between Harry Potter and DragonBall Z. Current plans are to ship Harry/A15 with A18 and Fem!A17. Depending on where the story goes, of course. If it goes through Z to Super, it'd be those two. If Time Patrol interferes before anything really starts, it could be anyone from Gine to Cheelai to Videl to Caulifla, maybe even some combination of those four.

Either way, they'd all end up back in Harry's original timeline right after he'd gotten blasted through the Veil.

It was official: Fate, destiny, maybe even karma, whatever it wanted to be called was an absolute bitch and a half.

Harry Potter quietly seethed inside his currently useless body. It was his one and only pastime whenever he was "deactivated." However long it was between waking moments, he constantly cursed the day he'd been fooled by Voldemort's trap. He cursed the moment where Bellatrix Lestrange had cursed him into that damned archway.

But most of all, he cursed the sadistic old man that had found him half-dead, barely lucid, and staggering around in the wilderness: Dr. Gero.

Suddenly, he felt the connection with the old man's computer systems abruptly disengage. It was always a jarring feeling, but this time felt…different. Usually, he'd be gradually disconnected to be reactivated, tested, and ultimately shut down whenever he was caught trying to sabotage Gero's efforts. Or just if the old man felt like it. It was all incredibly inconsistent.

The amoral scientist had always taken a sick pleasure in torturing and gaslighting him. Especially taunting him with claims that he'd eventually be scrapped since he's "defective." As if he hadn't acted in such a way to keep the doctor from actually being able to erase his memories and reprogram him effectively.

Harry was unable to stop Gero from cutting him open and stuffing him with bits of machinery and metal (oftentimes without anesthetic), but it was due to the outrageous pain and occasional bouts of shock that he was finally able to grasp occlumency. That and the connection to Voldemort was out of service, so without the constant attacks on his psyche, it was actually relatively easy to clear his mind. If he hadn't been able to compartmentalize it all away, he felt like the pain could have driven him insane like the Cruciatus had done to the Longbottoms.

Sometimes, he even thought he had cracked, depending on how despondent he felt.

However, it was thanks to that grasp of occlumency that he was able to feed Gero's machines false memories to erase and the old man was none-the-wiser. Each time he was activated after a forceful deactivation, Gero would often repeat some of his taunting and gloating from previous activations as though it were all original.

Another side effect was that he could flit into Gero's computer network whenever it was connected to his pod since that interfaced with his brain, somehow. Surreptitiously, he'd managed to edit out parts of the programming that ended up being fed into his head. At least the parts he'd understood.

Wanting to kill some bloke he didn't know and a corrosive hatred toward humanity? He could do without all that nagging at him constantly. The martial arts programmed into him and the knowledge of energy control that interfaced with the Infinity Generator installed inside him could come in handy if he wanted to figure out how to make his way back to England. Voldemort and his arse-kissers would never see it coming!

However, the whole experience was warping his sensibilities. He fell on his sword far too often for the idiots of the Wizarding World and this was the thanks he got?! Being tortured for a year by a sadistic froggy bitch then tortured for an unknowable amount of time by a sadistic old prick, all because of the fact that he tried to warn them about Voldemort?

Hence why he barely wanted to go back to England. He was tired of being vilified at the drop of a hat, but at the same time, it was a shame letting all his gold either rot away in his vault or worse, line the Ministry's corrupt pockets.

Anyway, the connection being severed so suddenly instead of gradually was an interesting development. It usually took minutes for every aspect of the connections to go away because of how complicated they were.

Wait, was the pod he was in moving?! What was happening?

Involuntarily, his spine shivered while the activation sequence hit his systems, both biological and artificial. The first thing to come back were his ears, which heard the sound of the pod's door being kicked off the hinges. Next, his motor functions were given back to him, allowing him to finally open his eyes. At the very least, his vision had been fixed at some point, though he was completely unsure as to when exactly.

Briefly, Harry was baffled by the fact that he was out in the open air, but shrugged it off and stood up out of the pod slowly to give his stiff muscles time to acclimate to being used once more.

He glared down at the beige trousers that Gero had put him in. Cheap bastard didn't even give him a shirt or shoes. And the trousers had tears at the hems of his ankles. The only other articles of clothing he was given were a sash around his waist bearing the Red Ribbon Army symbol on each end, holding the trousers up, a set of black spiked bracelets and anklets, and finally two golden ring earrings.

"So, friend, what's your deal? The doctor said you were practically brain dead," came from a voice behind him. His gaze was drawn to the voice, spotting a raven-haired woman wearing a black t-shirt over a long-sleeved undershirt, blue jeans, neon green socks sticking up out of her blue and white trainers, a gun in a holster on her hip, and an orange bandanna tied around her neck.

He recognized her as one half of the twins that, during his previous activation, Gero had gloated to him about "obtaining." A quick glance found the other half of the equation; a blonde woman wearing a black shirt with black and white striped sleeves, black leggings, a jean skirt, and a jean jacket. Each shared the same cute face and similar hairstyles; straight hair of a length down to just above their shoulders. Both were watching him with similar calculating, icy blue eyes. Their own golden ring earrings glinted in the bright sunlight.

"Sounds like my plan worked then. I feigned becoming increasingly slow-minded to get him to stop attempting to erase my memories every chance he got. You must be Android 17, yes?" he addressed the raven-haired one first with a smirk. Her smiling nod told him that his files were correct. He turned to the blonde and nodded in acknowledgement. "Android 18, then. You may refer to me as Android 15. The old bastard called me your prototype."