Pierce the Sky (The Dursleys, Harry, Catherine Todd, PG, Harry Potter/Batman x-over)
Title: Pierce the Sky
Author: Mimic
Characters/Pairings: Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursely, Harry Potter, Catherine and Willis Todd. Others mentioned.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics. I do own the twisted concept this story is based on. Have no clue why anyone would want it.
Notes: Timelines, what timelines? Canon, what canon? Plot, oh my god, you did NOT just do that. More at the bottom. You kinda need to read to figure it out.
Feedback: I kind of need to know if I should continue this, or let it die a peaceful death. Lord knows it isn't gonna get one if I keep up.
Word Count: 1,583
It had been three days since that thing had been left on his doorstep, and Vernon Dursley was sick of it.
Those freaks had no right to bother him and his family.
“I do not care what that damn letter says, Petunia! I am not raising a freak child in my house!”
His young wife stood with her hands twisted together, leaning against her sparkling kitchen counters. “I know it’s not what either of us want…”
“Then why do it? There are hundreds of orphanages and foster homes. They can deal with the boy,” he spoke the last word with venom.
It gave him chills to think of that devil being in the same vicinity as his own son.
“No. Vernon. The boy has to stay in the family. I’ve seen these people. He must stay with my blood…”
Vernon saw her face take on a pensive light as soon as she finished speaking. “Yes, dear?”
“I -“ her jaw set, and she raised her head, “I know I have a cousin in the United States, perhaps she would be willing.”
He tried to ignore the spark of hope he felt at that. At last his wife was letting go of this ridiculous notion that they must keep the thing just because of a letter, and a silly warning. The law would never allow them to be harmed at any rate, they did nothing wrong.
“Phone her. I’ll fly her over if you want. Whatever will get that thing out of the house.”
Petunia gave him a paper thin smile, and he quickly went to hug her.
“Everything will be fine, Petunia. You don’t have to worry.”
She returned the offered affection. “Of course not, Vernon. It will be me, you, and our beautiful son. Perfect.”
“You are always perfect, dear.”
Petunia pulled away from him, and hurried to the den to retrieve her address book.
He waited a minute before walking into the kitchen so he would be able to listen in on the conversation from the wall set there.
“What do you want, Petunia?” He heard the hard edge to the woman’s voice, overlaid by world wariness and a sense of unrest though she had to be younger than his wife.
Petunia answered in the same demanding style. Vernon wondered how long it had been since the two women had even seen each other. “Lily and her husband, James, died a few days ago, and you’re to be given rights to the child.”
“Hell? Petunia you can’t be serious. Me and Willis can barely keep things together as it is.”
“Vernon and I are not taking the boy in, Catherine. That is final.”
“I --“ The voice was silent for a long time, but Vernon could hear her breathing over the line. “A son?”
“Yes. Black hair. Green eyes. He’s just over a year old.”
The woman sighed, and there was another silence. “Where am I going to get the money for the plane trip?”
“Vernon and I will take care of it so long as you promise to take the boy.”
“I promise, Petunia. I promise.”
“I’ll mail you the arrangements as soon as I can. Good day, Catherine.”
The line went dead, and Vernon carefully placed the phone back in its holder. This was too good to be true. The thing would be out of their lives, Petunia would be happy, and those types couldn’t blame them for anything.
“Vernon!” he heard Petunia shout from the den, “I’m going to need two roundtrip tickets from Gotham City to London.”
His heart froze for just a second before starting up again. Gotham City, of course the freak would end up will all the other freaks in the world.
It was best not to think about it.
“Alright dear. You can take one of my cards. Whatever you need.”
He was going away. It didn’t matter where he ended up.
It didn’t.
The arrangements were made, and within a week Petunia’s cousin had stopped by the house to pick up the brat and the few things he had come with.
She cooed at the boy, and gave an appropriate shocked gasp at the scar on his forehead.
Petunia quickly smiled and told her, “His parents died in a car crash. You can explain when he’s older.”
“Of course, poor kid. Willis is going to have a day, but he’s beautiful.” The young brat had reached out to the woman as soon as she arrived, and hadn’t left her arms since.
His wife merely grimaced, and turned away.
Vernon hadn’t even debated with Petunia about the letter. He had burned the thing before it could cause any more trouble. This Catherine woman had already agree, and he wasn’t going to let her back out.
If that meant lying, then so be it.
As soon as the boy was gone he hugged and kissed his wife, and played with his son. They were the perfect family. Petunia smiled more widely at him than ever before, and no wizards ever showed up on their doorstep. They had been them.
He still couldn’t shake, for a long time, the nagging sensation he had somewhere made a wrong turn.
“Harry Potter, huh?” Catherine asked her new son. His eyes were so unimaginably wide, and such a pretty shade of green.
Even if she wasn’t suppose to have him, she fell in love with him as soon as their eyes met. She would do good with the boy, no matter what her husband said.
The boy continued to stare at her. “Mama?” he asked, as his chubby fingers reached for her hair.
“Yes. I guess I am, aren’t I? And Gotham’s gonna be your home.”
It wasn’t the best place to raise a child. Their home was run down, and the streets were so unsafe these days. Even with the threat of the Bat lurking in the skies.
With the way her husband ran, having him around wasn’t a comfort.
She tugged Harry closer to her chest, and closed her eyes against the pain lingering deep in her stomach. It always seemed to linger these days.
Harry didn’t know what was happening. He was tired because he had to spent a long time in a chair, and the nice lady who let him call her mama wouldn’t let him get up too much.
They were in a car, now, and outside the windows were more buildings than Harry had ever seen.
It was dark here, too, but he didn’t mind so much. It was kind of comforting, not too scary if he didn’t think about it.
The lady was whispering in his ear now, as he stared at the buildings.
“This is Gotham.
“Be careful. Don’t let it beat you down, don’t let it get you like it got me.”
He frowned, and reached out his hands to grab her face. He wanted her to understand, so he stared at her for a long time. “Won’t.”
This lady wasn’t his mommy, but she was pretty like his mommy, only harder like the world wasn't nice to her. Maybe she was his new mommy though, his mama. He was pretty sure his mommy was dead.
He was pretty sure someone bad had done it, but he didn’t understand why.
Later Harry saw the place that mama said was their house. It was small, and not really a house like his real mommy and daddy had.
He didn’t mind though, because it was better than that place with the mean lady, and the fat man.
Mama gave him a couple wooden things from the kitchen to play with, but he liked staring out the windows more. The buildings were so big. It made him think if you jumped out one you might be able to fly.
He thought he remembered flying once with his daddy. His mommy was really mad, but daddy just laughed and said every boy had to learn to fly.
Harry wanted to fly again, but he didn’t think his new mama could. Oh well, he would find a way, some day.
A man came into the house a while later, and he was tall, and dark, and kind of scary, but Harry could he wouldn’t really hurt him. Not like the other bad man had hurt his mommy and daddy.
“That’s Harry,” his mama said, and he turned toward her when his name was mentioned.
“How’re we suppose to take care of a kid, Cathy?” The man was scowling, and everything he said was angry. Harry didn’t like to look at him when he talked like that.
Mama put her hands on her hips, which he knew meant she was upset and being a girl. “He’s not just a kid. He’s family!”
The man looked at him, and Harry felt a bit embarrassed.
“Fine. You want him you can keep him, but he better not get in the way,” the man declared, before he walked to a different room and slammed the door. Mama sighed, and walked over to pick him up.
“That’s dad. Don’t worry, he might grow on you.”
Harry doubted it, but he didn’t say anything. This place was weird, and now that it was completely dark outside he felt a lot more nervous than he did when it was bright.
The buildings were all shadows reaching up to pierce the sky.
He knew one thing. Flying would be a lot harder here, than it was back with mommy and daddy.
End Notes: This is, of couse, the concept of what if Harry Potter was raised as "Jason Todd". I was speaking with my sister last night about the release date of the seventh HP book, and it eventually boiled down to me telling her about how I thought Harry should die in the end along with Voldemort. I realized about halfway through that all the qualities I was listing off as reasons for Harry's death making sense were the same qualities the Even Robins share.
I took the idea, and ran away with it. This is it's spawn. I have some tentative plans for more, but I wanted to post this first to see if I was completely crazy or if this actually makes some sort of sense. Notice the word some, I'm not asking for miracles.
Author: Mimic
Characters/Pairings: Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursely, Harry Potter, Catherine and Willis Todd. Others mentioned.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics. I do own the twisted concept this story is based on. Have no clue why anyone would want it.
Notes: Timelines, what timelines? Canon, what canon? Plot, oh my god, you did NOT just do that. More at the bottom. You kinda need to read to figure it out.
Feedback: I kind of need to know if I should continue this, or let it die a peaceful death. Lord knows it isn't gonna get one if I keep up.
Word Count: 1,583
It had been three days since that thing had been left on his doorstep, and Vernon Dursley was sick of it.
Those freaks had no right to bother him and his family.
“I do not care what that damn letter says, Petunia! I am not raising a freak child in my house!”
His young wife stood with her hands twisted together, leaning against her sparkling kitchen counters. “I know it’s not what either of us want…”
“Then why do it? There are hundreds of orphanages and foster homes. They can deal with the boy,” he spoke the last word with venom.
It gave him chills to think of that devil being in the same vicinity as his own son.
“No. Vernon. The boy has to stay in the family. I’ve seen these people. He must stay with my blood…”
Vernon saw her face take on a pensive light as soon as she finished speaking. “Yes, dear?”
“I -“ her jaw set, and she raised her head, “I know I have a cousin in the United States, perhaps she would be willing.”
He tried to ignore the spark of hope he felt at that. At last his wife was letting go of this ridiculous notion that they must keep the thing just because of a letter, and a silly warning. The law would never allow them to be harmed at any rate, they did nothing wrong.
“Phone her. I’ll fly her over if you want. Whatever will get that thing out of the house.”
Petunia gave him a paper thin smile, and he quickly went to hug her.
“Everything will be fine, Petunia. You don’t have to worry.”
She returned the offered affection. “Of course not, Vernon. It will be me, you, and our beautiful son. Perfect.”
“You are always perfect, dear.”
Petunia pulled away from him, and hurried to the den to retrieve her address book.
He waited a minute before walking into the kitchen so he would be able to listen in on the conversation from the wall set there.
“What do you want, Petunia?” He heard the hard edge to the woman’s voice, overlaid by world wariness and a sense of unrest though she had to be younger than his wife.
Petunia answered in the same demanding style. Vernon wondered how long it had been since the two women had even seen each other. “Lily and her husband, James, died a few days ago, and you’re to be given rights to the child.”
“Hell? Petunia you can’t be serious. Me and Willis can barely keep things together as it is.”
“Vernon and I are not taking the boy in, Catherine. That is final.”
“I --“ The voice was silent for a long time, but Vernon could hear her breathing over the line. “A son?”
“Yes. Black hair. Green eyes. He’s just over a year old.”
The woman sighed, and there was another silence. “Where am I going to get the money for the plane trip?”
“Vernon and I will take care of it so long as you promise to take the boy.”
“I promise, Petunia. I promise.”
“I’ll mail you the arrangements as soon as I can. Good day, Catherine.”
The line went dead, and Vernon carefully placed the phone back in its holder. This was too good to be true. The thing would be out of their lives, Petunia would be happy, and those types couldn’t blame them for anything.
“Vernon!” he heard Petunia shout from the den, “I’m going to need two roundtrip tickets from Gotham City to London.”
His heart froze for just a second before starting up again. Gotham City, of course the freak would end up will all the other freaks in the world.
It was best not to think about it.
“Alright dear. You can take one of my cards. Whatever you need.”
He was going away. It didn’t matter where he ended up.
It didn’t.
The arrangements were made, and within a week Petunia’s cousin had stopped by the house to pick up the brat and the few things he had come with.
She cooed at the boy, and gave an appropriate shocked gasp at the scar on his forehead.
Petunia quickly smiled and told her, “His parents died in a car crash. You can explain when he’s older.”
“Of course, poor kid. Willis is going to have a day, but he’s beautiful.” The young brat had reached out to the woman as soon as she arrived, and hadn’t left her arms since.
His wife merely grimaced, and turned away.
Vernon hadn’t even debated with Petunia about the letter. He had burned the thing before it could cause any more trouble. This Catherine woman had already agree, and he wasn’t going to let her back out.
If that meant lying, then so be it.
As soon as the boy was gone he hugged and kissed his wife, and played with his son. They were the perfect family. Petunia smiled more widely at him than ever before, and no wizards ever showed up on their doorstep. They had been them.
He still couldn’t shake, for a long time, the nagging sensation he had somewhere made a wrong turn.
“Harry Potter, huh?” Catherine asked her new son. His eyes were so unimaginably wide, and such a pretty shade of green.
Even if she wasn’t suppose to have him, she fell in love with him as soon as their eyes met. She would do good with the boy, no matter what her husband said.
The boy continued to stare at her. “Mama?” he asked, as his chubby fingers reached for her hair.
“Yes. I guess I am, aren’t I? And Gotham’s gonna be your home.”
It wasn’t the best place to raise a child. Their home was run down, and the streets were so unsafe these days. Even with the threat of the Bat lurking in the skies.
With the way her husband ran, having him around wasn’t a comfort.
She tugged Harry closer to her chest, and closed her eyes against the pain lingering deep in her stomach. It always seemed to linger these days.
Harry didn’t know what was happening. He was tired because he had to spent a long time in a chair, and the nice lady who let him call her mama wouldn’t let him get up too much.
They were in a car, now, and outside the windows were more buildings than Harry had ever seen.
It was dark here, too, but he didn’t mind so much. It was kind of comforting, not too scary if he didn’t think about it.
The lady was whispering in his ear now, as he stared at the buildings.
“This is Gotham.
“Be careful. Don’t let it beat you down, don’t let it get you like it got me.”
He frowned, and reached out his hands to grab her face. He wanted her to understand, so he stared at her for a long time. “Won’t.”
This lady wasn’t his mommy, but she was pretty like his mommy, only harder like the world wasn't nice to her. Maybe she was his new mommy though, his mama. He was pretty sure his mommy was dead.
He was pretty sure someone bad had done it, but he didn’t understand why.
Later Harry saw the place that mama said was their house. It was small, and not really a house like his real mommy and daddy had.
He didn’t mind though, because it was better than that place with the mean lady, and the fat man.
Mama gave him a couple wooden things from the kitchen to play with, but he liked staring out the windows more. The buildings were so big. It made him think if you jumped out one you might be able to fly.
He thought he remembered flying once with his daddy. His mommy was really mad, but daddy just laughed and said every boy had to learn to fly.
Harry wanted to fly again, but he didn’t think his new mama could. Oh well, he would find a way, some day.
A man came into the house a while later, and he was tall, and dark, and kind of scary, but Harry could he wouldn’t really hurt him. Not like the other bad man had hurt his mommy and daddy.
“That’s Harry,” his mama said, and he turned toward her when his name was mentioned.
“How’re we suppose to take care of a kid, Cathy?” The man was scowling, and everything he said was angry. Harry didn’t like to look at him when he talked like that.
Mama put her hands on her hips, which he knew meant she was upset and being a girl. “He’s not just a kid. He’s family!”
The man looked at him, and Harry felt a bit embarrassed.
“Fine. You want him you can keep him, but he better not get in the way,” the man declared, before he walked to a different room and slammed the door. Mama sighed, and walked over to pick him up.
“That’s dad. Don’t worry, he might grow on you.”
Harry doubted it, but he didn’t say anything. This place was weird, and now that it was completely dark outside he felt a lot more nervous than he did when it was bright.
The buildings were all shadows reaching up to pierce the sky.
He knew one thing. Flying would be a lot harder here, than it was back with mommy and daddy.
End Notes: This is, of couse, the concept of what if Harry Potter was raised as "Jason Todd". I was speaking with my sister last night about the release date of the seventh HP book, and it eventually boiled down to me telling her about how I thought Harry should die in the end along with Voldemort. I realized about halfway through that all the qualities I was listing off as reasons for Harry's death making sense were the same qualities the Even Robins share.
I took the idea, and ran away with it. This is it's spawn. I have some tentative plans for more, but I wanted to post this first to see if I was completely crazy or if this actually makes some sort of sense. Notice the word some, I'm not asking for miracles.