Yer a Wizard Hilary. - Harry Potter/Primeval x-over.
Yer a wizard, Hilary.
Rating: Gen
Crossover with Harry Potter.
Author’s Notes: When I awoke this morning I did not think I would be crossing over these fandoms, however this is what happened and um yeah… *Runs away and hides*
Hilary Becker gets his letters from Hogwarts aged 11.
He ignores it. Rips it up and sets fire to it in the toolshed. He also does this for the next 84 copies that arrive.
He knows he’s special, that is not the issue, however Hogwarts (as he tells the grey streaked woman called Minerva who arrives to give him letter 86) is not a registered educational institution, and therefore will not assist him in getting into Sandhurst.
Eton however is, and therefore he appreciates the offer but declines it respectfully.
She looks shocked and leaves, unable to flounce as he thinks she’d like to because he was so disarmingly nice.
The magic doesn’t go away, and he knows that anything pent up will suddenly burst out and that would not be correct. So he practices moving things, levitating thing, little bursts of magic so as not to cause any problems.
The man next door is a wizard and so Hilary stands as close to the boundary as he can so they think it’s merely him. (He’d asked Minerva a lot of questions regarding this, and has worked out that since no official looking men in odd clothing have come to drag him to Hogwarts, he’s doing ok, so far.)
He manages to hide it, maybe giving a bullet a little extra flick to hit a combatant spot on. Or enlarging his portions slightly before going for a long march, or field exercise, and passes out of Sandhurst with honours.
That’s when it starts to go downhill, Iraq is a nightmare of blood and death, and Hilary, now known to everyone as Becker, sees friends ripped apart and thinks that if only he’d gone to Hogwarts maybe he could have pieced them back together or seem the IED before they crossed it.
He starts to loathe who and what he is, stops doing the little things he did, despises anything that isn’t rational and quantifiable and logical. He just stops, can feel the itching in his fingertips when a bullet goes astray to just push it back. The temptation to run a hand over a small cut and make it vanish, but he resists. Stands straighter than ever, falls to sarcasm as a defence and pushes everyone away so he doesn’t have to feel the pain of losing them too harshly.
Then the mission goes to shit, he’s in charge and he’ll take the fall as he always knew he would, but three days being held by insurgents has not done his demeanour anygood. He rails at the command structure from his small dank ‘quarters’ (which is this case means holding cell) and argues with anyone who comes in.
He’s sparking slightly at his fingertips when James Lester walks in, looks him up and down and pronounces him unfit to be seen. He knows Lester sees the small firework display he’s trying to hid behind his back, unsuccessfully and he winces wondering whether he’ll be cut up and examined trying to find out why he is the way he is.
Lester on the other hand smirks, pulls a thin strip of wood from inside his sleeve and a handkerchief from his pocket and proceeds to turn the handkerchief into a box of cigarettes and a lighter with a small pop and a flourish of the thin ‘wand’.
Becker sits down on the rough wooden bench he’d been sleeping on, hard. Taking the proffered cigarette with shaking hands.
“How long since you used a wand and did anything?” Lester asks, waving the wand and muttering something that sounds like ‘muffle a toe’, before sitting next to him and lighting both cigarettes with the lighter.
“Never.” Becker says quietly, taking deep drags and staring resolutely at the floor.
“What? But… Where did you train?”
“I didn’t, I turned down Hogwarts because I wanted to go to Sandhurst. I can do basic stuff. I hate magic anyway, it’s wrong.”
“You’re an idiot.” Certainty in his voice, Lester drops a hand and tries to grab Becker’s chin and make him look up. Becker twists his head away and takes another drag. “A massive idiot.”
Becker looks up finally when the cigarette is finished, flicking it to the floor and stubbing it with his heel, when he lifts the boot up he sees it’s gone, nothing but a slight smear of ash to show it had even existed.
“Magic is not wrong. It’s more than right, it’s natural. Now, I have a job offer for you, and given the options you have, you’re going to say yes. Then you’re going to come and protect my bevy of nerds, who keep throwing themselves infront of stegosauruses and what-have-you-a-dons. And if you manage not to get any of them killed, or yourself, I’ll show you what can be done.” Lester stands, proffers the cigarettes again and lights it when Becker takes another. “First things first however, we need to get you a wand. If you blow up my ARC because you can’t control yourself, well so help me I will kill you myself. That place is expensive and the minister would bugger me over the desk if it got damaged.”
Lester walks from the room, and gets about 5 paces down the hallway before saying, a little louder than before. “Well, are you coming then? I don’t have all day, and no doubt Connor has managed to destroy something terribly expensive and I have to fill in the paperwork. I’ll explain it all in the car.”
Rating: Gen
Crossover with Harry Potter.
Author’s Notes: When I awoke this morning I did not think I would be crossing over these fandoms, however this is what happened and um yeah… *Runs away and hides*
Hilary Becker gets his letters from Hogwarts aged 11.
He ignores it. Rips it up and sets fire to it in the toolshed. He also does this for the next 84 copies that arrive.
He knows he’s special, that is not the issue, however Hogwarts (as he tells the grey streaked woman called Minerva who arrives to give him letter 86) is not a registered educational institution, and therefore will not assist him in getting into Sandhurst.
Eton however is, and therefore he appreciates the offer but declines it respectfully.
She looks shocked and leaves, unable to flounce as he thinks she’d like to because he was so disarmingly nice.
The magic doesn’t go away, and he knows that anything pent up will suddenly burst out and that would not be correct. So he practices moving things, levitating thing, little bursts of magic so as not to cause any problems.
The man next door is a wizard and so Hilary stands as close to the boundary as he can so they think it’s merely him. (He’d asked Minerva a lot of questions regarding this, and has worked out that since no official looking men in odd clothing have come to drag him to Hogwarts, he’s doing ok, so far.)
He manages to hide it, maybe giving a bullet a little extra flick to hit a combatant spot on. Or enlarging his portions slightly before going for a long march, or field exercise, and passes out of Sandhurst with honours.
That’s when it starts to go downhill, Iraq is a nightmare of blood and death, and Hilary, now known to everyone as Becker, sees friends ripped apart and thinks that if only he’d gone to Hogwarts maybe he could have pieced them back together or seem the IED before they crossed it.
He starts to loathe who and what he is, stops doing the little things he did, despises anything that isn’t rational and quantifiable and logical. He just stops, can feel the itching in his fingertips when a bullet goes astray to just push it back. The temptation to run a hand over a small cut and make it vanish, but he resists. Stands straighter than ever, falls to sarcasm as a defence and pushes everyone away so he doesn’t have to feel the pain of losing them too harshly.
Then the mission goes to shit, he’s in charge and he’ll take the fall as he always knew he would, but three days being held by insurgents has not done his demeanour anygood. He rails at the command structure from his small dank ‘quarters’ (which is this case means holding cell) and argues with anyone who comes in.
He’s sparking slightly at his fingertips when James Lester walks in, looks him up and down and pronounces him unfit to be seen. He knows Lester sees the small firework display he’s trying to hid behind his back, unsuccessfully and he winces wondering whether he’ll be cut up and examined trying to find out why he is the way he is.
Lester on the other hand smirks, pulls a thin strip of wood from inside his sleeve and a handkerchief from his pocket and proceeds to turn the handkerchief into a box of cigarettes and a lighter with a small pop and a flourish of the thin ‘wand’.
Becker sits down on the rough wooden bench he’d been sleeping on, hard. Taking the proffered cigarette with shaking hands.
“How long since you used a wand and did anything?” Lester asks, waving the wand and muttering something that sounds like ‘muffle a toe’, before sitting next to him and lighting both cigarettes with the lighter.
“Never.” Becker says quietly, taking deep drags and staring resolutely at the floor.
“What? But… Where did you train?”
“I didn’t, I turned down Hogwarts because I wanted to go to Sandhurst. I can do basic stuff. I hate magic anyway, it’s wrong.”
“You’re an idiot.” Certainty in his voice, Lester drops a hand and tries to grab Becker’s chin and make him look up. Becker twists his head away and takes another drag. “A massive idiot.”
Becker looks up finally when the cigarette is finished, flicking it to the floor and stubbing it with his heel, when he lifts the boot up he sees it’s gone, nothing but a slight smear of ash to show it had even existed.
“Magic is not wrong. It’s more than right, it’s natural. Now, I have a job offer for you, and given the options you have, you’re going to say yes. Then you’re going to come and protect my bevy of nerds, who keep throwing themselves infront of stegosauruses and what-have-you-a-dons. And if you manage not to get any of them killed, or yourself, I’ll show you what can be done.” Lester stands, proffers the cigarettes again and lights it when Becker takes another. “First things first however, we need to get you a wand. If you blow up my ARC because you can’t control yourself, well so help me I will kill you myself. That place is expensive and the minister would bugger me over the desk if it got damaged.”
Lester walks from the room, and gets about 5 paces down the hallway before saying, a little louder than before. “Well, are you coming then? I don’t have all day, and no doubt Connor has managed to destroy something terribly expensive and I have to fill in the paperwork. I’ll explain it all in the car.”