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HP drabble/ficlet - gen, AU, xover, FRC (Fan Rated Suitable for Children)
Why, oh why, does HP seem to spawn so darn many AU xover drabbles/ficlets for me when every other fandom spawns long stories? And why won't the darn muse let me concentrate on my WIPs instead of providing me with these annoyingly persistent new plot bunnies? *sigh*
For the first time in centuries, the warning of a direct assault on the Potter clan head’s home shrieked through the family’s magic. Ancient wards and charms shivered and flared, the magic of long-forgotten Potter holdings and possessions struggling to respond to their master’s desperate need. Far from the devastating attack on Godric’s Hollow, the desperate call reached the crumbling hulk of an abandoned ancestral castle and sank into its very stone. Dormant defences activated, stasis spells released, and, all around the castle’s moonlit ramparts, weathered stone grated and shattered. The Potter clan guardians roared into furious life for the first time in over five hundred years and instantly launched into the night sky, powerful wings beating with frantic speed.
A mere handful of wingbeats later, a shock of magic signalled the passing of the Potter headship. Soon after, another burst bore the message that the Potter family had been reduced to a single, defenceless infant. The guardians pressed grimly onward, landing only when forced down by the rising sun. At sunset, they once again took to the air, adjusting course to follow their link to the Potter bloodline as the child’s location changed.
The sun rose on an empty doorstep at Number Four Privet Drive and a statue-filled clearing in the nearby forest. Cradled securely in stone arms, sheltered within granite wings, Harry Potter spent his first of many days yet to come in magical stasis-sleep. Henceforward, he would of necessity be as nocturnal as his guardians, the gargoyle defenders of his ancestral home.
For the first time in centuries, the warning of a direct assault on the Potter clan head’s home shrieked through the family’s magic. Ancient wards and charms shivered and flared, the magic of long-forgotten Potter holdings and possessions struggling to respond to their master’s desperate need. Far from the devastating attack on Godric’s Hollow, the desperate call reached the crumbling hulk of an abandoned ancestral castle and sank into its very stone. Dormant defences activated, stasis spells released, and, all around the castle’s moonlit ramparts, weathered stone grated and shattered. The Potter clan guardians roared into furious life for the first time in over five hundred years and instantly launched into the night sky, powerful wings beating with frantic speed.
A mere handful of wingbeats later, a shock of magic signalled the passing of the Potter headship. Soon after, another burst bore the message that the Potter family had been reduced to a single, defenceless infant. The guardians pressed grimly onward, landing only when forced down by the rising sun. At sunset, they once again took to the air, adjusting course to follow their link to the Potter bloodline as the child’s location changed.
The sun rose on an empty doorstep at Number Four Privet Drive and a statue-filled clearing in the nearby forest. Cradled securely in stone arms, sheltered within granite wings, Harry Potter spent his first of many days yet to come in magical stasis-sleep. Henceforward, he would of necessity be as nocturnal as his guardians, the gargoyle defenders of his ancestral home.