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Welcome to the Real World
A “Captain Scarlet & the Mysterons” and “Harry Potter” cross-over fan fiction
By Kelly Haycock and Devon Ricks
Authors’ note: All Harry Potter characters, places etc already established in the books belong to JK Rowling. All Captain Scarlet characters, places etc already established in the television series belong to Gerry Anderson. We only own the characters we created for this story.
“Imagine an instant... That the world of Captain Scarlet and the world of Harry Potter would be set in the same timeline, and in the same universe..."
White followed Hermione through the corridors of Hogwarts, looking around him as they went. It was all so very familiar to him, he could remember being here when he was younger and it brought a sad smile to his face. The young Gryffindor Prefect saw this.
“Are you all right, Sir?” she asked, pulling him from his reverie.
“Hmm?” White asked, looking down at her. “Yes, I’m fine, Miss Granger. Just walking through here brings back memories I thought were long buried. And please, if you’re going to be helping me I don’t want to be continually called Sir.” He thought for a moment. The students there referred to the male staff as ‘Sir’ if not ‘Professor’ and he wasn’t a member of the staff, neither was he on duty.
“What would you like me to call you then?” she asked.
White smiled. “Call me Arbus.” It had been good to hear Hagrid, McGonagall and his grandfather using his true name once again. He had too long been using his middle name, Charles, for when he was off duty.
“Arbus. All right, but only if you call me Hermione.” The girl smiled at him, receiving one back from the former student in return.
They continued on down the corridors for a while until finally Hermione stopped beside a portrait of the school.
“Is there a password to this one?” White asked, not recognising the picture.
“No, you just have to know which door to knock,” Hermione said, studying the canvas closely. “Ah, there it is.” She pointed to a small side door on the castle. White looked at it and watched as, using only the knuckle of her index finger, she knocked the tiny door.
The Colonel stepped back watching as the portrait slid aside to reveal a short passageway, then followed Hermione as she walked in.
“Professor Dumbledore told me you might like it in here, that is why he recommended this room for you to stay in,” she informed him. “As well as the fact that there are very few people who know the portrait leads to a room and those that do don’t come in here for the simple reason that it’s not a secret passageway.”
White walked in and looked around. It seemed to him that this room had been specifically catered for an ex-Gryffindor visitor, or had his grandfather known to decorate it in such a way? He shrugged the thought off and looked around. The covers on the large four-poster bed were scarlet in colour with intricate gold embroidery decoration and the curtains that drew around the bed were obviously made to match. The armchair beside the fire was deep red to fit in with the Gryffindor colour scheme. The window at that point was open wide enough to allow Reganbalde to fly in and settle on his shoulder. He reached up to stroke the bird gently, an automatic reaction the Colonel did without thinking.
“Is this your owl, Arbus?” Hermione asked, looking at the magnificent creature.
“Yes,” White said, stopping next to her. “I used to have a cat when I was in Hogwarts, a small black one named Drake.” The Colonel chuckled fondly. “He had thirteen white hairs on his chest, under his chin. Made him stand out from the other black cats in the school at the time. My father gave him to me the day I got my Hogwarts letter. Drake sadly passed away when he was 19 and I was without a familiar for a long time.” White sat down on the chair carefully so as not to disturb the bird still nestled on his shoulder. “My father died about two years before Drake did. I was able to attend his funeral but rarely had the chance to go to the memorial gardens where all my family are laid to rest. One year however, I managed to get leave to pay him tribute on the anniversary of his death about ten years ago now. My grandfather was already there. He gave me this owl and said that one day he would be of service to me, but until then I would have a companion.”
Throughout this whole monologue, Hermione had remained quiet, letting him speak. It seemed to her that he had been needing to say these things, that they had been bottled up inside for a long time. She also got the feeling that there was a lot more that he had yet to reveal but was not going to push him into saying anything he did not feel ready to say.
“What’s your owl’s name?” she finally asked, going closer to where he had sat down.
“His name is Reganbalde.” He smiled to himself, realising for the first time what the meaning of the name meant to him. “It means ‘rainbow’.”
“Strange choice for a snowy owl’s name,” she said, stroking Reganbalde’s head.
“Yes, I know. I don’t know what made me pick the name when I was younger. I suppose it almost fits in with my current line of work.”
“What’s that?” Hermione asked.
White looked at her and thought. There were some things he could tell her, but she may not know about them, being a witch. “I work for a Muggle security organisation.”
“Oh, now I recognise your clothes. Is that your uniform?” she asked, immediately interested. “I’ve read a lot about Spectrum. That is who you work for, right?”
White chuckled. “Yes. How do you know about them?” he asked.
“I’m a Muggleborn, Arbus. I grew up in that world hearing about Spectrum and things.” She looked him over. “Does your uniform mean you’re Captain White?”
The Colonel chuckled again. “I suppose I can tell you that, but I can’t tell you too much. It is a top-secret organisation, after all. My codename is White, but my rank is Colonel.”
Hermione smiled. “So you’re important then? Is that why you’re here?”
“So many questions,” White said, smiling. “In a sense, but I really cannot tell you much else. And besides, I am quite tired and I feel sure that Herbology wasn’t your last class, am I right?”
“No, it’s not. But my last class is Astronomy at midnight.” She grinned.
“Okay, you win,” White said, letting Reganbalde fly up to perch on the chest of drawers. “But I would like some rest.”
“All right, Arbus,” Hermione said, with a smile. “I’ll leave you for now. We can start your lessons tomorrow if you wish.”
“That would be ideal, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your own classes.”
“Don’t be silly, we’ll be doing them in the evening. Professor Dumbledore said he’d send by something for you to use for you to get through the school unnoticed so I’m assuming he has an invisibility cloak or something.”
“You know about those?” White asked. “Let me guess, you read about them?”
“Partially, but a friend of mine has one as well.”
White nodded, an impressed look on his face. “All right then. Tell me when and where and I’ll meet you.”
“Tomorrow evening at seven. Do you know where the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy is?”
“I know of it, but I wouldn’t be able to find it.”
“No matter, I’m assuming you remember where Gryffindor tower is?”
“I’ll meet you outside there then.”
“Okay, I’ll see you again tomorrow then, Hermione.”
“Good rest, Arbus,” Hermione answered and with that, she turned and left.
White watched her go, then turned and looked around the room once more. “Are you comfortable over there, Reganbalde?” he called to his companion. The owl hooted softly then ruffled its feathers slightly. White laughed, then went over to sit on the bed next to him. “Have you missed me?” he said, once more stroking the bird. The snowy owl hooted again, nipping his finger. He sat there for a while just stroking the bird and taking in his surroundings again. It was very good to be back at Hogwarts in the community he was meant to be in after such a long time.
He kicked off his white uniform boots and stowed them just below the bed, then lay back, shutting his eyes. He hadn’t even remembered falling asleep, but when he opened his eyes again, it was dark. The only light in the room came from the candle burnt almost down to the holder.
He looked around. It was a strange noise that had woken him. In the dim light he couldn’t see much, but something beside his bed caught his eye. He turned onto his side and looked over the edge.
“Hello,” a squeaky voice said, causing White to jump. A small house elf had been sat beside his bed looking at his boots, but was now looking up at him through wide eyes.
“How did you get in here?” White asked, more disturbed by the sudden greeting than the creature itself.
“Dobby knows how to get in. Professor Dumbledore asks Dobby to help Arbus.”
“You know my name?”
“Of course. Professor Dumbledore has asked Dobby to help so Dobby must know some things or Dobby cannot help.”
White looked at the house elf, slightly confused, but shook his head, putting it down to fatigue. “So Grandfather sent you to help me, did he?”
“Yes, Sir. He told Dobby to ask first if Arbus was hungry?”
White smiled. “Very much so, Dobby.”
Dobby smiled, and left quickly. White looked around, wondering how long he’d be, when the door creaked open slightly. He had thought at first that it would be Dobby back, but on hearing a soft meow, he looked towards the floor and noticed a scruffy looking cat with bright red eyes.
“Mrs Norris,” he said, cordially. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. I suppose Dobby must have left the door open slightly.” The cat just meowed again and jumped up lightly onto the bed. “I hope you know I’m not a student anymore,” White said, reaching out to the cat and scratching it behind its ears. The attention caused the feline to purr loudly. “I’ve missed you too,” he said, smiling.
A few minutes later, Dobby was back with some more house elves carrying trays of food and drink. The Colonel couldn’t help but smile. He had forgotten how efficient these creatures were. It was at this point that he noticed that Dobby was dressed differently to the other elves. While the Hogwarts elves all wore a tea towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest, Dobby wore neat mismatched clothes.
He was about to ask Dobby about this when the elves presented him with plates and goblets and showed him the trays. White smiled wider seeing that the trays bore foods like coloured salad, with slices of his favourite cold meats. Grinning, he helped himself to slices of beef to go with his pink lettuce, orange cucumber, yellow tomatoes and red cress.
“Does Arbus like Hogwarts’ salad?” Dobby asked, watching the man pile more of the magically coloured foods onto his plate.
“It was my favourite when I was a student here. Grandfather must have remembered that and told you, yes?”
The house elf smiled. “Professor Dumbledore did say to make sure the house elves had lots of Hogwarts salad.”
White smiled. “I used to eat this all the time. Really makes me feel like I’m back home again.”
Dobby smiled brightly. “Was Arbus a student here a long time ago?”
“Yes, a very long time ago.” White sighed. “I’ve been living as a Muggle for a very long time, something like 35 years. I haven’t really been counting.”
“That is a long time to be away from our world.”
“I know. I’ve come back to practise my magic.”
“Why’s that, Arbus Sir?”
“I’m afraid I can’t say, Dobby.”
“Dobby understands, Sir. Dobby knows that some things shouldn’t be said.”
White smiled. “I believe you, Dobby.” He finished up the last of his meal and looked through the jugs they had provided. There were jugs of pumpkin juice as well as butterbeer. Smiling again, he poured himself a goblet full of the latter, sighing happily as he tasted it. “It’s been far too long since I had Butterbeer,” he said, downing the rest.
Dobby watched him, then took the empty goblet from him once he had had his fill. “Dobby has to tell you also, Sir, that you will be getting some new robes in the morning.”
“Alright, thank you, Dobby,” White said, settling back onto his bed as the last house-elf left with the tray.
“Would Arbus like something to wear over night?” Dobby asked.
White looked over at him. “I think that would be a more sensible option than sleeping in this,” he said, gesturing to his uniform as Dobby placed a nightshirt onto the end of the bed. He noticed Reganbalde sleeping silently on the perch he had taken earlier and something made him look at his shoulder where the bird had been earlier sat. There were scratches on the epaulettes from the owl’s talons. He sighed, stripping the tunic off to look at it more carefully. “I think it’s a good thing I’ll be getting new robes. My clothes will be ruined before long if I wear them here for too long,” he said.
Dobby nodded. “Indeed. Dobby will leave now so Arbus can sleep. Arbus looks very tired.”
“Is it that obvious?” White asked, rubbing his eyes.
“Yes, Sir,” Dobby said, not realising the Colonel had asked a rhetorical question.
White just chuckled. “Thank you, Dobby. I’ll try and get some sleep then. If you could close the door after you,” he said, then noticed the fur ball at the end of his bed, adding as an afterthought, “oh, and can you let Mrs Norris out. I feel sure Mr Filch wouldn’t appreciate me keeping her in here all night.”
As he said this, the cat had uncurled herself, stretching and scraping her claws on the bed, then leapt lightly down, following the house elf out.
The Colonel watched them go, then changed into the provided sleeping garment. It was not long before he was lying under the covers, fast asleep.
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