So, after the teaser trailers, and a bit of work, here's the first two chapters of what might potentially be my new Potterverse/Fate/Grand Order story. Keep in mind, aside from the usual preamble that this isn't guaranteed to be published as a standalone fic, it probably won't go out under this name, but under the name of my previous attempt at a Harry/Barghest story, Out of the Strong Came Forth Sweetness. I just can't be arsed changing the chapter titles and the pages to reflect that. :P

Also, Tsukihime is out in English, officially! Who wants to see me do a Potterverse/Tsukihime crossover? Well, once I buy the game and play it enough...

Anyway, enjoy...

THE WIZARD AND THE FAE HOUND

CHAPTER 1:

THE STRAY DOG

In the darkness of oblivion, she was only an awareness of an awareness1. While a small part of her was glad that she still had some semblance of existence, the rest of her knew that if this persisted, it would be utmost torture. Sensory deprivation that would last for an eternity.

Then again, some part of her felt she deserved it. True, she tried to uphold her own personal code of honour and morals, far more than anyone else from her clan or even her kind. And yet, she willingly followed the orders of a tyrannical queen, engaged in acts of brutality that sullied her honour.

And most galling of all, her queen was right to oppress their people. Only a few deserved protection, who could engage in anything more than capricious, callous cruelty. And that revelation had broken her, along with the knowledge that she had devoured her last lover, Adonis. And she had become the Calamity she was always fated to be.

She would have wept, but she didn't have a body to cry tears anymore. At least the worst of the suffering was at an end. She would accept this nothingness as punishment.

But do you need to?

The voice was soft and deep and gently, echoing through the void. If she still had eyes, they would be wide in shock. Who's there?! she demanded.

One who shares responsibility in authoring your fate, scion of the Fang Clan, the voice said. And for that, I am sorry. You were a rarity amongst your kind, a Fae who knew virtue, and tried to uphold it, despite your loyalty to the treacherous saviour. Like you, I am a mere shadow of what I once was. The gentle god who tried to have your ancestors repent for their sin, and was repaid by treachery in return. The one whose corpse made up the bedrock of your land of Fae Britain. I am Cernunnos.

The name meant little to her. Their sin? she asked.

When the White Titan came, your ancestors were meant to forge a sword to slay it. They failed, out of indolence and sloth. And when my priestess and I saved them, they repaid us in treachery, as I said before. Your queen made a palimpsest of history to prevent the truth from undermining her rule. But that is in the past. The Lostbelt is collapsing, thanks in part to the Abyssal Worm. Our shared history is coming to an end. You and your allies, for good or ill, have been inscribed within the Throne of Heroes, and will be, aside from the memories within Chaldea, all that is left of your world…but I believe you deserve a second chance, to find happiness, to find love, without being shackled by your curse. I am a mere vestige of what I was…but perhaps I can perform this last act before oblivion finally consumes me. Tell me, child of the Fang Clan, if I gave you such boons, what would you do with a new life?

…I would try to find love, try to find those worthy of protection. I refuse to serve a tyrant anymore, to follow their orders. Instead, I wish to find someone worthy of my loyalty.

A deep, tenebrous chuckle answered her. A goodly answer, child of the Fang Clan. Go forth with my blessing, and prove yourself worthy of it…and find your love and happiness…

"Could you stop humming Welcome to the House of Fun?"

"Why? Is it driving you to Madness(2)?"

"Driving me to drink, more like. We're in unknown territory here."

"We're in Norwich. How many times have you had to deal with a Sealing Designation in Norwich?"

"Before today? None. Though I remember Davison claiming there was an incident involving a Magus, his Chimera, a tanker filled with veterinary lubricant, and a stolen Edelfelt Mystic Code some years ago. It was apparently messy."

"Sounds more like a drunken bender by that Magus gone wrong. Still, we're getting close. We'd better keep quiet."

The redhead in the severe suit nodded. Say what you would about Bazette Fraga McRemitz, but when on the job, she was a consummate professional. True, she often had money problems, she was a fangirl of Cu Chulainn, and she had hot-blooded tendencies that put many Gryffindors to shame at times.

But Harry Potter had few other people in Clock Tower he'd rather have watching his back.

The former Boy Who Lived, if he had been asked where his life would be over a decade after Hogwarts, would not have picked being an Enforcer for the Magus Association. Then again, he looked younger than that, maybe in his early twenties at the oldest, but he was actually in his early thirties. He used to joke about it being the result of clean living, but in truth, he wasn't sure why. He suspected, but he didn't know. Nor did he particularly want to know. It was one thing to be a wizard, when life expectancy well past a century was the norm. It was another when a friendly acquaintance and mentor was a millennia-old man whose mentor was King Solomon, and whose honorary granddaughter was a centuries-old vampire who was also possibly the embodiment of the planet's will.

Still, while Harry Potter couldn't call his life completely directionless, there was something lacking in his life at the moment.

Was it purpose? Disgusted with the corruption still plaguing the DMLE and the Ministry, especially after the mission that led to him finding Delphi, it was on the suggestion of Hermione that Harry went into the Magus Association. He'd only heard about Clock Tower in passing from Hermione and Luna while at Hogwarts, and while the Magi were, in many ways, worse than the wizards, he found himself welcomed into the Enforcers. He felt he could do a lot more as an Enforcer than as an Auror, and despite being one of the few wizards accepted into their ranks, he felt more at home there, thanks in part to Bazette, his mentor.

Was it romance? The relationship with Ginny fell apart not long after the Battle of Hogwarts, though at least they were still on speaking terms. Indeed, the only Weasley he was on bad terms with was that twat Percy. He tried with Hermione and Luna, but with Hermione, she was on the rebound from Ron, and he was grateful they managed to keep their friendship alive. As for Luna, they soon decided it was better to be just friends, though Luna had a knowing smile at times, and said love would find him soon. As for Bazette, well, she was already in a relationship.

Was it family? After he adopted Delphi, his relationship with Andromeda Tonks had cooled somewhat, and she made it difficult for him to see Teddy, despite being his godfather. And while Delphi was a decent person, she was also a hellion at times, something that got worse as she entered her teens. And that was without the saga that happened when her true parentage was exposed. The Ministry even banned her from attending Hogwarts in their infinitesimal wisdom.

Maybe it was what he went through in his childhood. It left him incredibly jaded. True, there was the sense of adventure, the thrills galore. But there were also the life-threatening situations, many of them caused by either a xenophobic psychopath who looked like his mother fucked a snake, or a half-senile old goat who forgot or was wilfully blind to the old idiom that the road to Hell was paved with good intentions.

Harry would be the first to admit he was damaged goods, and while so many who lived through that time gained scars and trauma, at times, it felt like he came off the worst, at least of those who survived. It was a fairly selfish mindset, and he tried not to settle into it. But at times, he felt like few understood what he went through, or didn't want to understand.

His thoughts were interrupted when they reached the door. The Magus, one Ramsay Nyder(3), had taken over an old Ministry of Magic facility under the Cow Tower, using space expansion spells to ensure the nearby river didn't cause problems, and as much as the Ministry and Clock Tower sneered at each other, it often didn't stop one group or the other pinching ideas and property. Harry was a rarity, a wizard who had joined Clock Tower, and many there looked askance at him, though he had some friends at least.

Harry took out his wand and scanned the door carefully with a Charm Bill had taught him. After a moment, he nodded at the results, before pocketing the wand, and pulling out a sawn-off shotgun from his coat. He loaded a cartridge into the shotgun, and then a few different ones. Bazette nodded on his look, pulling out a cylindrical object from her jacket.

The thing about both wizards and Magi is that the magical protections on a door are thought to be enough. But while they were good enough against magical intrusion, whether through wizarding magic or Magi's magecraft, they tended to neglect more mundane defences. Like a modified breaching round, a shotgun round designed to be used to deal with locked doors, sometimes known as 'Avon Calling'(4). A once in a lifetime lesson with Kiritsugu Emiya, the retired Magus Killer, had rammed that home for Harry.

The lock was shot out by the modified breaching round, and Harry kicked the door open, before moving aside. Bazette threw in the cylindrical object, a stun grenade, again modified. Once the flashbang went off, and they heard curses from the occupant, Harry and Bazette moved in.

The Magus was blinded and deafened, staggering around a fairly stereotypical mad scientist laboratory with a Magus slant, but he wouldn't give up. Stumbling against a bench, he cackled, "You're too late!"

Oh, that was never a good sign when they said those words, even when they were being overconfident. Harry began taking in the bizarre cages containing strange dog-like beasts, outlined in crackling violet light, more like lightning made flesh than anything biological. Black Dogs, he realised. The more eldritch and vicious cousins of the Grim, Fae hounds that were basically living lightning.

He should have known. Ramsay had been accused of stealing Waver Velvet's notes on the death of Sir Trevor Codrington(5). That Magus had transformed his estate into a magical engine for creating Black Dogs from the deaths of innocent people.

And the cages were all surrounding a ritual circle, one that vaguely resembled those that had been used to summon Servants for the Holy Grail War. Harry had been shown pictures by Zelretch some years back. And it was beginning to flare with light.

As the light from the ritual circle became blinding, they heard Ramsay cackle, "I will bring back the Age of the Gods! The Fae will grant me the ultimate power! And you stupid fucks will be the first sacrifices!"

Harry blinked away the afterimage, only to find himself staring at what was currently kneeling in the ritual circle, like a newly-arrived Terminator from one of those films. Then again, about the only thing this form had in common with Arnold Schwarznegger's iconic character was the height and musculature. And the nudity on arrival.

It appeared to be a woman, despite the muscles. In fact, the adjective Amazonian most definitely applied here, a mixture of beauty and strength, and he had to tear his gaze away from her generous bust. A massive mane of golden hair reached down to her waist. Her face, despite her muscular body, was surprisingly regal and noble in its beauty. Her eyes, oddly enough, were slightly mismatched. Both were blue, though her right eye had a slight crimson tinge to it. Even more oddly, given that she was not wearing a stitch of clothing, she seemed to be wearing a tiara of spiked metal or precious stone.

The distorted baying of the Black Dogs had ceased too, Harry realised, and they looked…scared of her. He had to wonder why. The woman looked powerful, yes, but why would she intimidate Fae hounds?

Ramsay cackled. "Yes! Kill them! Kill them, and…" Suddenly, his voice cut off in a choked squawk, as the woman's hand lashed out, so quickly that her hand seemed to be wrapped around his throat instantaneously.

And then, she said in a soft but cold contralto, "The weak do not order me, especially not one that reeks of blood and pain, or cages my kin."

As Ramsay gagged, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, his face turning blue, Harry, on hearing her words, decided to take a gamble. Her wording suggested that Ramsay disgusted her, so it might be that, whoever or whatever she was, she could be negotiated with. He cleared his throat, and the woman turned her gaze to him. "Umm, miss? While him being dead is not going to be any skin off our nose, our superiors want him alive, preferably. Rest assured, he won't be getting out for a long time."

The woman seemed bemused at being addressed so calmly, but eventually, she nodded. "You wish for him alive? Very well. But how intact does he need to be? Would you wish to ensure he cannot escape?"

"I guess so," Bazette said.

The woman nodded, letting Ramsay's throat go, only to suddenly seize him, and slam his back into her knee. A sickening crack echoed through the chamber, and Ramsay screamed a high-pitched scream, before passing out. "…Did you just break his spine like Bane?" Harry asked in shock.

"I do not know who this Bane is, but I did break his spine. Doing so without killing him was tricky," the woman said, lying Ramsay out on the floor of the workshop, surprisingly gently after her earlier brutality. "But he reminded me too unpleasantly of an acquaintance I had known, the worst kind of Magus. I…" She then swayed on her feet. "I…"

Her eyes were fluttering closed. Harry, on an impulse, hurried forward to catch her as she fell unconscious. He miscalculated, though, and her head hit his own, specifically, the tiara. It wasn't a hard knock, and yet, it felt like something burst, something rushing into his mind, and…

A humanoid creature with lupine features sneered down with a disdain Malfoys could only pretend to. "As a scion of the Fang Clan, you are being trained. But never forget that I, Lord Woodwose, showed you a great kindness, whelp. Other lords of lesser standing in the Fang Clan would have discarded you the moment of your birth due to your physiognomy, and that was before we knew of your curse. Never forget our kindness and charity, and continue to work hard to prove yourself worthy of it!"

He felt the emotions of another. Shame. Fear. Hatred. Rage. A desire to prove Woodwose wrong.

A battle, against caterpillar-like creatures seemingly made out of living shadow. Strength, adrenaline, pumping through her veins. Fear, yes, but exhilaration. Proving herself worthy.

And then, a throne room, the décor elaborate, and yet as cold as the pale-skinned, veil-wearing woman, her icy blue eyes just barely visible behind the veil, as were her regally beautiful features. "I, Morgan le Fay, Queen of Britain, thus do solemnly invest in you the title of a Fairy Knight, Tam Lin. To restrain the malison within you, I shall bind it through an additional title, one of a great knight from another time. Thus, I dub you…Tam Lin Gawain."

Pride. Joy. Gratitude for having her curse sealed away. "I thank you, Your Majesty," she said. "I thus dedicate myself to protecting Britain and its people."

Did Morgan's lips just thin? He didn't know. All he could say for sure was that he felt whatever Tam Lin Gawain felt, pride and joy and gratitude. Though he also felt shock. How could Morgan le Fay be Queen of Britain?

More battles. The scent of blood and sweat and excrement in the air. Her sword sang an ugly song as it cleaved into her enemies.

Yet he felt her emotions. Disdain for the weak. A desire for a challenge. And a nagging concern that, for all of her vows, what was she actually doing to protect Britain?

A young man, delicate and sickly, but looking on her with genuine love and adoration as they shared afternoon tea. And this love and adoration was reciprocated, even if that feeling was tinged by fear and self-loathing. "Ghesty, it's fine. You'll beat this curse. I know you will. You're the strongest person I know."

The woman didn't trust herself to answer, merely nodding mutely. Yet tears blurred her sight all the same, betraying the turmoil within…

The feeling of his flesh in her gullet. The taste of his blood on her lips. Her voice, hoarse from screaming in horror, despair, and self-loathing. "But why are you doing this?"

The handsome young man with the dark silver hair, pale blue eyes, and impish expression said, "Well, it's altogether too soon for this to happen. It wouldn't be fun otherwise. Anyway, here's the spell. Your memories will be locked away until the time is right. Oh, and I forgot to mention…I'm not really Oberon either. That's just the name I go by. I am…Vortigern."

Horror and rage filled her being, and then…

More battles, more brutality. A town burning. Then a forest, charred corpses of Fae littering the ground. An assassin she drove off, one sent by her queen.

Then, her queen once more, declaring she would not defend her people, just her land. The fury she felt on hearing that from her queen. The decision she made, to foreswear one vow in favour of another.

A talk on a moonlit balcony, with others. The decision to betray her queen to save the people she was sworn to protect. Her return to her home, only to see her people torturing and murdering humans, having remembered her crimes even if she had not.

The wail of grief, despair, and rage tearing itself from her throat, deepening into a roar of eldritch wrath as the curse finally won.

And then, battle. A violet-eyed, lilac-haired girl in figure-hugging armour, and wielding a strange shield bigger than she was, accompanied by a purple-haired man in armour with a sword, and a red-haired man wielding a strange harp that also was a bow. Pain. Rage. And yet, a desire to end it all.

And so, it came to pass…

Harry found himself waking up with a concerned Bazette kneeling next to him. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked.

Harry cringed as what felt like an icicle stabbed through his skull. "Ugh, did anyone get the number of that truck? Is she okay?"

"The woman? Yeah, as far as I can tell. But what the hell happened? When she fell on you, you seemed to have a fit or something."

Harry rubbed his head as he got gingerly to his feet, looking at the blonde woman, now having a tarpaulin draped over most of her body, barring her head. She now looked so serene, so at peace, but he knew she was anything but. He rubbed his head. "…I don't know how, but…I caught a glimpse of her memories. She's a Fae, Bazette, a Fae from an alternate timeline, something called a Lostbelt. I only saw bits of her life, but…believe it or not, she was a soldier for Morgan le Fay, albeit one who rebelled to try and protect her people. It…didn't work out."

Bazette stared at him for a moment in disbelief, before nodding in acknowledgement. She knew better than to disbelieve him at times like this. "A Fae, from another timeline. Damn. The Wizard Marshall might need to be told. Can we trust her?"

"…Maybe. I mean, she hated herself, what she was doing."

"So, what is her name?"

"Believe it or not…her name is Barghest…"

CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:

So, Barghest has ended up in a combined Potterverse/Nasuverse timeline, and she's met Harry. But can they find love?

Unlike Primordial Song, Harry's not an obsessed mess of a man, looking to change history. Still jaded and cynical, but finding Delphi and adopting her has helped him. He's basically like a far less misanthropic and cynical Kiritsugu Emiya, who actually helped train him in this timeline, though Bazette was his main mentor. He's also a Master of Death Harry, though he doesn't know it yet.

Now, I struggled a little in figuring out how to do this. Harry would be appalled by what Barghest did in her life if he only heard it. Here, he has seen not only her memories (albeit parts of it), but felt her feelings. How did this happen? His magic and MoD nature interacted with Barghest's A-Ray Antennae when she fell on him, giving him glimpses of her memories. He only saw highlights, because she is four centuries old. Anyway, he saw enough that, for all of his concern, he does know that, on balance, she is a genuinely decent person, and practically a saint by Fae standards.

1. This is a paraphrased quote from Aldous Huxley's Time Must Have a Stop, where the ghost of an atheist describes himself as such. This was the inspiration for the Doctor Who villain Omega, who only continues to exist because his own will insists he does, despite his physical body corroding away into nothingness.

2. Madness is the band that sang House of Fun. That's the actual title of the song, but Bazette is annoyed and doesn't know the actual title of the song.

3. I used Nyder as the name for an OC villain before, in my High School DxD crossover Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus, named for Davros' enforcer in Doctor Who: Genesis of the Daleks. However, his character is based more on the namesake of his first name, Ramsay Snow from Game of Thrones, especially with his association with vicious killer dogs.

4. I first learned this in Thomas Harri's novel Hannibal, where the ill-fated raid at the beginning of the book includes someone with a breaching round in their shotgun, nicknamed 'Avon Calling' as a sardonic joke against Avon salespeople.

5. Trevor Codrington is the posthumous villain in episodes 4 and 5 of The Case Files of Lord El-Melloi II. While Waver never became Lord El-Melloi, he still became something of a PI for Clock Tower's Magi in this timeline, and the events of those episodes happened, even if Gray doesn't look as much like an Arturia clone…