suckmy12inch: (if you say so!)
And yes, the title is shamelessly stolen from Franzy. This is my attempt at some sort of P4/Ace Attorney crossover, with...just Ema crossed over, and my dates fudged. This is, er, just the first chapter, and the first time I've written fic in a long time. ANYWAY.

suckmy12inch: (Default)
(<--- For you, Shadow!) So Shadow gets it! (Shadow = dantes_girl) What did Shadow ask for? Shadow asked to see my Harry Potter/Devil May Cry fic. And this post is just for that, as I've nothing else to say. Sorry for being so boring. The following is everything I've written so far.


Chapter One - The Call

The Daily Prophet had screeched the news with what could be taken as barely disguised joy - the Ministry of Magic had been invaded once again, by none other than He Who Must Not Be Named. Even Rita Skeeter had gone to town with the story and all over the country, people demanded Rufus Scrimgeour's removal from office. It wasn't just the invasion that drove them to this - it was the consequences of such an invasion.

For about thirty-six hours, absolutely nothing happened. The wizarding community held its breath as the Muggle world passed by, unaware of the drama unfolding. And then suddenly the calm before the storm was shatted. Creatures appeared, the likes of which had never been seen before but their purpose was all too clear - to attack, to maim, to kill. Before long England was overrun with the beasts and absolutely nobody knew what to do about it.


"Trapped," Harry Potter said bleakly, tossing the paper onto the table. The Great Hall was filled with muted whispers and the fact that only half its pupils had returned did not account for the relative silence. Of these pupils, two had been killed, three mauled by the nameless horrors that awaited outside. Even Peeves was morose, his pranks half-hearted at best. Ron picked up the newspaper and flicked through it for the fifth time while Hermione's fretful glances kept returning to the Headmistress, who was staring balefully into her bowl of porridge.

"We've got to do something," Harry muttered, repeating a line often said for the past week. Nobody was allowed to venture outside. Outside, hundreds uypon hundreds of bloodthirsty beats stalked the grounds. The centaurs had initially refused outside help but had eventaully been forced to evacuate before the Forest was overrun. Nobody knew how the unicorns were faring and Hagrid was almost constantly silent in his concern over Grawp. So far, not even the Aurors had been able to free the school. It was not just the monsters keeping them at bay - Death Eaters had been sighted and it was thought that the Dark Lord himself was present at times. And there were whispers of another enemy, worse than the Dark Lord. This menace had no name, had not been seen, but still the rumours flew.

"There's nothing we can do, Harry," Hermione said, breaking the silence again.

"I know! It just pisses me off! Surrounded by monsters with nowhere to go and Voldemort's out there and I'm a sitting duck! I haven't even found any of his -"

"Shut up," Ron interjected warningly. Harry's outburst was attracting stares. They were the only three who knew about the Horcruxes and Harry intended to keep it that way.

"What's McGonagall doing about this?" asked Harry furiously.

"I'm sure she's doing all she can -" Hermione began but Harry cut across her.

"She isn't! She's sitting there, looking at her breakfast!" With that, Harry leapt up and stalked towards the staff table. Ron and Hermione exchanged uneasy glances and followed their friend.

Headmistress McGonagall didn't look up until Harrd was stood right in front of her and had made his presence known by clearing his throat. She glanced up at him and Harry hesitated. She seemed so... lost. But he was determined to have his say.

"Professor, we have to do something," he said firmly. "We can't just stay in here, waiting for them. I need to get out of here - !"

"I would prefer it if you could lower your voice, Harry," Professor McGonagall interrupted. Stares were once more being directed at him. "I think it would be best if we discussed this in my office. You three come with me." She glanced to her left, where Remus lupin sat, having accepted the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher once more. "You too Remus. And Hagrid." She stood up swiftly anmd the group moved off to her office. Harry's mind was filled with plans but he couldn't think of a way out of this mess.

As they entered the office, whispers erupted - the portraits were awake and curious as to why such a crowd had arrived. The mutterings continued until a raised voice cut across them. "I hope you all realise that it is very rude to whisper."

Harry's lurched, as it always did upon hearing the voice of the dead Albus Dumbledore. He turned to see Dumbledore's portait smiling at him, spectacles twinkling.

"Looking well, Harry," the portrait noted. Harry nodded, unable to think of a response. What made it worse was that he had not yet started his mission to retrieve the Horcruxes, something he suspected Dumbledore knew, even if he was only portrait.

"It must be a serious matter indeed for you all to have arrived," Dumbledore added gravely.

Harry found his voice again. "It's these monsters sir. We can't wait for them to starve us out -"

"We wouldn't starve," objected Hagrid in a rather plaintive voice.

"Maybe not, but those things can wait. We're not getting any younger."

"The Aurors have tried everything," Lupin put in. His face was etched with ever deepening wrinkles - he always feared for Tonks's safety, who had taken it upon herself to be at the front line of every assault. "But the beasts just keep coming. There's no end to the damn things."

Dumbledore frowned, his keen glance trained on Professor McGonagall. "There is one cource of action left, is there not, Minerva?"

McGonagall appeared rather put out. "Well, yes, Albus, but you know how I feel -"

He interrupted her protests sharply. "You are also aware of my feelings in the matter." A statement rather than a question.

"Of course but his methods are rather unorthodox."

"Orthodox methods will not get you out of this situation," said Dumbledore sternly and then a familiar twinkle appeared in his eyes. "In any case, I'm certain you only object to him because of his vocabulary."

She bristled at that but Dumbledore spoke before she could protest further. "Call him. No more arguing. This is not a time for division." Mc Gonagall whirled on Lupin, who shrugged helplessly. Either he had no idea what the two were on about or he did not want to disagree with Dumbledore. Hagrid's reaction was the same.

"Oh very well." To the surprise of most of the room's occupants, McGonagall rooted through a cabinet and extracted an anciet telephone.

"What's a fellytone doing in Hogwarts?" Ron asked in amazement.

"Telephone," Hermione correct in a distracted voice. The Headmistress ignored Ron's question and pulled out a dust covered notebook, before flicking through it.

"I made a few adjustments to it," Dumbledore said brightly. "It works in the school and will call any number in the world. Never caught on though. Most wizards prefer owls or Floo powder. No silly business with wrong numbers that way."

Ron began saying that Mr Weasley would love such an item but McGonagall shushed him as she clutched the handpiece, her knuckles almost white. Somewhere, a phone was ringing.

Chapter Two - Dartboard

"Take that, you evil bastard."

Each word was punctuated by a brief whistling and a thump, the last such thump accompanied by a mirthless snicker. The darts were embedded in a recently acquired dartboard, and had pierced an even more recently acquired photo. This photo depicted a short fat man, hair brushed into a pathetic combover, sweat streaming into small piggy eyes. In a word, the man was ugly, a fact the dart thrower was taking extreme pleasure in.

"How did you like that, you lump of lard?" Thick boots clumped on the floorboards as the man stalked over and yanked the darts out. This was no mean feat, as the darts had been embedded half way and no ordinary man could have yanked them out. But it had not been an ordinary man who'd thrown them.

The man in question was called Dante and was in fact half-human. The other half was demon and the two combined to create a tall man with highly toned muscles and piercing blue eyes. Nothing particularly strange then, until you noticed the hair - and you certainly would, because it was pure white. Yet his face was not wrinkled or lined, but youthful. It was possible to describe him in two words - either 'devilishly handsome' or 'bloody weird'. Dante generally preferred the former.

"Thirty percent increase," came the irritated mutterings. "As if I'm not stretched enough as it is." Another dart flew through the air. "I'm down to two pizzas a week already! The guy's trying to starve me out." At first Dante's great fondness had rapidly depleted the business funds until Trish pointed out sourly that at this rate they would be bankrupt within months.

It was at times like this that Dante sincerely wished Lady had not departed for Australia, or Asia - or maybe Europe, Dante forgot which - to set up her own branch of the demon-hunting business, though she had refused to change the name to Devil Never Cry. Dante would have preferred to argue out the pizza thing with her; he would have lost but it was infinitely easier than arguing with one's own mother.

Well... lookalike mother.

That was the problem though. Trish was not only a carbon copy of the deceased Eva in looks, but she sounded the same and even acted like a mother! Dante growled in frustration. What was a badass demon hunter to do?

For the moment, throw darts.

Thump. Thump. Ring. Thump.

Hang on. Darts did not ring. They only thumped. It was not within a dart's ability to ring. Whistle, yes. Thump, yes. Ring, no. Unless of course bells were attached. But who'd want ringing darts? Dante thought, mind still caught up with thirty percent. Surely you would want silent darts, otherwise they would be useless as a weapon and what else were darts for, afterall? Apart from playing darts, but -

"Dante, answer that phone or so help me I will ram it down your throat!" There was the motherly yell of Trish, coming from the bathroom where she was no doubt washing her hair. Again. Phone. Oh... phone. That explained the ringing. See, darts could not ring, as Dante had argued with himself...

The phone was ringing.

"Aha!" yelled Dante, suddenly overcome with joy. A call at last!

Sorry to end so suddenly, the chapter's not done, but that's all I got so far ^^


suckmy12inch: (Default)

January 2012

123 4567
8910 11121314
22232425 262728


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags