WARNING: This story is unfinished and will remain so, unless the authors come back to complete it.
We invite these authors to contact the webmaster of SPECTRUM HEADQUARTERS at spectrum_hq@hotmail.com
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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