Welcome
to the Real World
A “Captain Scarlet & the Mysterons” and
“Harry Potter” cross-over fan fiction
By
Kelly Haycock and Devon Ricks
Chapter
2
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?”
“Of
course.”
“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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