Nasuverse Crossover One-shots

Harry Potter x Fate

𝕰𝖑𝖉𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝕱𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖕𝖘

It was a hot spring day when Harry first met her.

School had just finished and Harry was circling the playgrounds, trying to find a hiding spot. Once again, Dudley and his gang decided to play Harry Hunting, but this time around, they gave him a five-minute head start. However, Harry didn't have anywhere else he could run to, so here he was, gripping the walls of a spiral tube slide so he wouldn't fall. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for them to find him though. From below, they shook the slide to arouse panic, laughing while doing so.

Scrambling upwards, he ran to the monkey bars. The older boys followed, but Harry was pretty fast for someone so scrawny and small. Easily climbing on top of the metal poles, he made sure to balance himself as he stood to his full height. Dudley only groaned when his friends refused to do the same. The bars were simply too high up.

Harry felt a smile grow on his face. He felt giddy having both outsmarted them and proved himself to be better at climbing things. His joy was short-lived however when he felt pebbles digging into his legs. They were throwing rocks at him now, booing him and urging him to fall.

It was at that moment when someone shouted at them to stop, and all eyes turned to the bushes behind them. A girl, petite with long blonde hair, had her fists bunched in anger. Her dress was black and pristine, decorated in frills and lace. She looked expensive in the kind of "posh rich kid" sort of way, yet her voice held none of the confidence or pompous attitude common to their kind.

Fidgeting under their stares, the girl spoke again.

"That's not nice you know, what you're doing right now."

Silence reigned for a few seconds before the boys burst out in laughter. They apparently found her comment hysterical, and Harry couldn't help but worry for this newcomer.

"And? So what if it isn't nice. What are you going to do about it?" Dudley mocked in that whiny voice of his. The rest of his little gang save for one kid nodded in agreement. A tall rat-looking boy looked nervous as if he knew something his friends didn't. "Dudley," he whispered into the other's ear. "Maybe we should just go home."

The port leader was startled at the strange suggestion. He looked at his friend with bewilderment. "What are you talking about? Why should we? We haven't even finished the game!" In response, the brunette swallowed in fear, pointing to the girl with a shaky finger.

"She's the witch."

Harry couldn't figure out why, but the accusation seemed to strike a chord within the group, and their faces lit up in recognition. They stared at the solemn girl once more, taking in her all-black state of dress and cold blue eyes. Shuddering, Dudley frantically nodded, pushing forward to run back home. The other boys yelped in surprise before sprinting after him as well.

"Wait for us!"
"That girl gives me the creeps!"
"The witch is out to curse us!"

Once they disappeared from his view, Harry dropped from the monkey bars. Unfortunately, he didn't land correctly. His legs collapsed under malnourished ankles, and his face immediately burned with embarrassment. Peaking up from his prone position, he could tell the girl saw everything. In fact, she was heading towards him right at this moment, eyes filled with concern.

A curtain of gold hair surrounded his view when the girl's face grew close to his. She was quite pretty in a doll-like way, probably the prettiest girl Harry's ever seen. Her eyes bore into his with great intensity, almost like she was trying to drill a hole into his head.

Finally, after what seemed to be ages, she drew away and offered a hand. Harry gingerly took it and was lifted to his feet. Dusting the wood chips off his baggy clothes, he fixed his glasses and hair for good measure before flashing an awkward smile to his savior.

"Th-thanks, for sticking up for me like that. That's a bit uncommon around here."

The girl returned his smile. "They were picking on you. . . It's an awful thing, being bullied and scorned like that."

Harry slowly nodded. He thought about how peculiar her accent was. It wasn't quite Australian, American, or Irish. . .

"You're not British," he blurted out without thinking.

The girl gasped.

"Is it that noticeable!?" She started tugging her hair in frustration. "Uncle will be so mad! I thought I perfected this accent!"

Harry giggled. "No, it's pretty bad."

The girl shook her head in defeat, hands clasped together as if she was praying. That was when Harry could finally have a good look at her and noticed how truly odd her outfit was. Sure, frilly dresses weren't that uncommon today, but wearing one that style and in this kind of weather? Dursley and his friends called her a witch. . . Is it because she dresses like this?

Was she an outcast like he was?

"Why have I never seen you around?" Harry asked, curious as to why he's never heard of any neighborhood witch. "Where are you from?"

Jerking up from her trance, she fiddled with her thumbs. "Me and my. . . Uncle, we just moved here a week ago, from Massachusetts." She turned towards the school, face filled with longing.

"I'm also homeschooled."

Harry gave her a sympathetic expression. While he may hate going to school and being picked on by Dudley, it was miles better than suffering the same treatment at home. Also, the girl was American? She for sure didn't look or sound like any of the Hollywood stars he'd seen on TV.

"There are no woods here so I play in the gardens," the girl stated. "I also go to mass every Sunday." She pointed east. "The local church just five blocks from here. Does your family go there too?"

Harry shook his head. Come to think of it, the Dursleys were one of the few people who didn't go to worship. Aunt Marge does, but uncle Vernon never goes and so his aunt doesn't as well. So much for wanting to be a picturesque normal family. . .

"Maybe I can see you there?"

"Where?"

"At the gardens or at mass. We could play together."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. She asked to be friends, that's what she was implying, right? She wanted to befriend someone like him? Didn't she just see him get chased around, teased, and bullied?

His voice was strained from emotion and disbelief when he muttered a weak "yes." His new friend gave a blinding grin. She seemed really elated as well, her cheeks red and eyes glimmering.

"Abby! My name is Abby! Short for Abigail. Abigail Williams." She curtsied as a formal greeting.

"Harry, just Harry."

He didn't know how to curtsy or bow back so he offered a hand to shake like he sometimes saw uncle Vernon do at house parties.

Abby seemed to get the memo though and readily accepted the handshake.

"Then I'll see you there then! This Sunday, 10 AM!"

***************************************************************

He would later find out that Abby was the same age as he was. They were both eleven, but she was months older than he was. Due to her uncle's work, she moved to Picket drive and knew no one here.
She also garnered the nickname "witch" because of an incident last week that stirred misunderstanding.

When Harry tried to ask what happened, Abby shut down, refusing to explain further. . .

Somehow Harry convinced his aunt and uncle to let him follow Marge to church. For once in his life, they were supportive of his wishes. Maybe they hoped he'd become less of a "freak" if the imaginary cloud deity corrected him. Of course, he didn't mention that the sole reason for his desire was the strange girl he befriended.

The first time he went to worship that Sunday, he arrived at the white chapel's entrance and immediately searched for Abby. There were mostly adults and some teens. Most of the kids were away at Sunday school the next building over, but Marge refused to let him join, worrying that he'll taint them with his presence. He didn't mind though, after all, his friend would be at normal worship like she said she would be.

Upon entering, Harry looked on in awe. Sure, the interior was probably normal for the everyday person, but to him, it sure looked fancy. Following Marge to the third row up front, he finally caught a glimpse of blond hair and black frills. The girl was sitting alone in the far back, away from everyone else. Without alerting his watchkeeper, he swiftly headed her way, ignoring the squawk of surprise from beside him. Aunt Marge looked angry but otherwise maintained a fake smile, greeting the other churchgoers as she took her seat.

Harry sat himself beside Abby, looking over at an old and frayed leather bible in her hands. Some of the yellow pages were torn out, and he could swear he saw tiny speckles of blood on the cover.

The girl waved, greeting him with warmth.

Then, mass commenced.

Harry couldn't help but notice how hard Abby prayed. Her hands were tense and her face scrunched in concentration. Honestly, he felt awkward being beside her since he didn't care for any of this at all. When it all ended, she was back to her normal self, shy and enthusiastic at the same time.

Each time, he'd come every Sunday to see her. He'd waste time doodling in his sketchbook, but Abby didn't seem to mind. They played in the gardens afterward, and Harry got to experience all the games he was excluded from at school. Over the course of a few months, he got to know more about Abby. They hit it off right away, probably because they were both shunned by their peers.

She was also weird in a different way than Harry was. Abby sometimes spoke or acted in an old-fashioned way. She was surprised at technology such as radio, television, and cars. Strange things occurred around her. Which was fine since that happened to him too, but stuff like birds randomly committing suicide or people gaining uncontrollable nosebleeds around her was all a little too frightening even for him.

He got to know her hobbies, likes, and dislikes. In turn, he told her about his own desires and of the magical dreams he often had.

When Abby told him her favorite food was pancakes, he even offered to make her some himself, since he was a pretty good cook.

However, today, Harry made a grave mistake. . . He was afraid he wouldn't be able to fulfill his promise after all.

After mass, he was worried Marge will come looking for him, so he took Abby's hand and escaped towards the backyard. She didn't seem to mind, thinking he was just impatient to start hanging out. They hid under the back porch and took a minute to catch their breath. Then, they broke out into laughter. It was fun, escaping adult supervision that is. Harry loved the exhilaration of all of it.

Suddenly, he could hear barking and saw that several dogs were out and about; their owners probably let them off their leashes to play for a little bit. Nudging his friend, Harry pointed and suggested they pet them. Although Harry didn't interact with dogs as much as he did with cats, he was still forever an animal-lover.

Abby, however, looked frightened. Slowly backing away, she furiously shook her head.

"They don't like me," she explained.

Now, Harry found that to be absurd. Someone like Abby? Why on earth would any animal dislike someone so caring? In order to prove her wrong, he approached the energetic animals with determination. Immediately, they grew excited at his presence, licking him and running around in circles. Harry pet their soft fur while calling out to the hiding girl.

"Come out! They're friendly!"

The girl was still scared but slowly emerged from the shadows and took a few tentative steps forward. When the dogs noticed her presence, they went completely still, silently staring at her trembling form.

Were they . . . Were they glaring at her? Not even a second passed before the dogs erupted in loud barking and growls. Harry was so startled he almost tripped over his legs.

They made chase, their paws thundering on the grassy lawn. Abby gave out a shrill scream, picking up her dress and fleeing the premises. The remaining adults saw the whole commotion and yelled out in worry. Harry ran after her as well.

The girl was too slow to outrun them, and one of the larger breeds nipped at her dress, tearing a large portion. Claws scratched her arms and torso, and as she fell, another dog bit her leg, ripping a small chunk of skin off.

Luckily, a tall man quickly ran to her side. Abby was scooped into his arms for protection. He then reached out a hand at the incoming pack, merely snapped his fingers, then turned to leave.

The effect was immediate. The dogs stopped in their tracks, appearing confused. The other churchgoers also looked distracted, as if they had just forgotten what they witnessed. Frustrated and terrified at this turn of events, Harry continued to sprint toward his friend.

He had to apologize. He hadn't known that would happen! He couldn't lose her, not when she was his only friend!

"Sir! Excuse me sir!" he shouted in desperation. "Is Abby okay!? Is she going to be alright!? Please! Tell Abby I'm sorry!"

The man turned to look at him. His face was difficult to read but Abby's expression was still full of fright.

"Harry Potter. . . It would do you good not to get involved with Abigail. For the sake of your fate and your community."

"I-I don't understand!?"

"There are forces that are beyond your understanding child. Beyond magic, death, space, and time. Horrible horrible things."

He stared down at the shivering girl. Blood trickled from her injuries onto his well-tailored suit, yet his face was expressionless.

"Abigail will be fine."

'She's obviously not fine!' Harry screamed in his head. There was something so eerie and off-putting about this man. He must be the uncle Abby had mentioned, but he seemed so different in terms of looks and personality.

"Go back home. Forget this day had ever occurred. Forget. Abigail. Williams." The man's voice was deep and suggestive. It clouded Harry's frantic mind, deafening his ears and blurring his vision.

However, somehow, he could still make out the sparks of energy hitting his skin, the blue light that came from nowhere, and the faint calling of his name before everything settled back into place: the dogs were playing again, the adults chattering about meaningless gossip, the grass green and clean of bloodstains. . . but now Harry was all alone.

He stood near the curb completely shell-shocked before he searched all around him for any sign or remainder of Abby. The torn piece of her dress seemed to have vanished into thin air.

No one seemed to remember her either. He asked everyone if they'd seen or remembered a little blond girl in a black dress. All of them, each and every single person turned up clueless. Harry wasn't insane. He wasn't making this all up! He even asked Dudley if he remembered the "neighborhood witch". In response, he was called crazy and pummeled by his friends. Seeing as how unfamiliar his bruises felt, he knew for sure Abby had existed. She was the reason why Harry Hunting had ceased to occur for so long.

It seemed to him, that everything else in this world was trying its best to convince him otherwise, as if her time in Picket Drive was simply an anomaly. Something that shouldn't have happened in the first place. But the world didn't try hard enough it seems, since he still retained his memories of her.

Moreover, after the day of her disappearance, dogs wouldn't stop following him. . .

Whether he passed by a stray or someone's pet, they'd be drawn to him by some supernatural force. And it wasn't like they were more friendly than normal. The animals only trailed after him in silence, eyes staring and never blinking.

Harry was convinced this phenomenon stemmed from Abby, from that one incident. It was the remains of whatever her presence marked on this world. Sure, strange things occurred to him, but not like this. Whatever was happening to him was too mundane and frequent. The dogs never hurt him, transformed into humans, or spoke to him for that matter.

They just. . . followed him.

Of course, when the Dursleys witnessed this bizarre trend, they punished him for it. Therefore, his friend's disappearance affected not only his mental health but his physical health as well.

Not that Harry wanted to, but he thought that Hogwarts would make him forget about her. The discovery of magic? Becoming famous? Gaining friends? He thought all that would mask his pain and grief. He was wrong.

Abby, his first true friend, still appears in his dreams and flashes of memory. Every dog or wolf he would encounter would remind him of his guilt and sadness. Sirius and Professor Lupin would act bizarrely around him too, though neither would admit it or remember their behavior. And the mystery surrounding her departure. . . Harry still couldn't make heads or tails of it, despite knowing what magic could do.

In his fourth year though, Harry had a very peculiar dream.

It wasn't the usual nightmare of Sirius' death. Instead, he found himself face to face with a gigantic cosmic wolf. He couldn't tell how big the thing was, but the entire time, he felt a feeling so indescribable. He wouldn't call it fear, awe, disgust, worry, or grief. The closest he would compare it to is excruciating, heart-wrenching nausea. He was merely a bug, no, a mere atom in the face of this being. He couldn't do anything in this dream. His agency was taken from him.

No words needed to be spoken. Harry knew intuitively why he was chosen. He didn't like it one bit though, becoming a puppet to yet another fate he couldn't control.

He woke feeling neither afraid nor anxious. Harry felt better than he ever did before. Grief, pain, and depression somehow all forcefully subdued or numbed. His magic. . . was still there, yet tinged with something new: something dark and chaotic. With a new goal in mind, to find Abigail no matter the cost, Harry leaped out of the hospital bed, ignoring Madam Pomfrey's protests.

Harry went down to the Entrance Hall, passing by Draco, Crabb, and Goyle. They called out to him in a mocking manner, but he ignored them. He felt like a man possessed. Abigail, if he could just see her again, would be the solution to all his problems. Harry didn't know if he actually believed such nonsense or if the wolf was influencing him, but it was better than going back to class, pretending that Cedric and Sirius hadn't died or that Voldemort was out to get him any moment.

Harry was sprinting now, down the hall towards the double front doors. From behind him, he could hear Snape call out to him, no, scream at him to stop or come back, calling him all kinds of insults. It was too late, his mind had been set ever since his dream. Ron and Hermione would be angry for sure, but they'll live. Hogwarts will live.

Just three feet away from the exit, Harry turned to his right and ran head straight into the corner of the wall.

"What are you doing, you stupid boy!?"

The baffled Professor would soon eat his own words when Harry vanished from plain sight, dark inky fumes emitting from where he last stood. Snape had thought it was a prank, probably some new Weasley invention.

However, half an hour later, Dumbledore calls him to his office. The headmaster states that the boy managed to bypass their wards and had vanished from the school grounds. Another few hours had passed, and everyone they contacted claimed they've haven't seen him at all.

By nightfall, it was made official. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the Wizarding World's only hope against You-Know-Who, was missing.