Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Batman (Harry Potter Style)

Batman (Harry Potter Style)

by alanna09618 1 review

Harry find out he has a cousin in America that is a squib that fight crime the muggle way and goes by the name Batman

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Crossover - Characters: Harry,Hermione,Tonks,Lupin,Dobby - Warnings: [!] - Published: 2012-05-22 - Updated: 2012-05-23 - 1748 words

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Batman. They belong to J.K. Rowling and D.C. Comics and Warner Brother.
Chapter 1 – The Bats

Harry Potter was a nine year old boy when he found his first fear in Bats. His cousin Dudley had chased him from the play ground in the park to a dark cave. He had run into the cave without much thought to the fact there could be danger inside. The bat had awakened and screeched at him he fall down and tried to cover his face so the bats would not bite him. Harry woke from his dream in a cell with an old man watching him.

Old Man: You dream it again.

Harry: How?

Old Man: They will fight you.

Harry: Can’t they do it before breakfast?

Harry said as he looked at the gruel the prisoners were given each morning to eat. Harry could not remember how he had come to be in the prison. But he had woke up one day in the prison with a magic bracelets on that keep him from doing magic in the prison to escape. He had been in and out of salutary confinement in the jail. He could feel his magic in his body as has it got strong. He had been in this prison for about a year. A man a lot taller than Harry came up on him.

Man: You are in hell little man and I am the devil.

Harry: You are not the Devil. You’re practice.

The man hit Harry back into the pan that had the gruel in it. Six other guys attacked Harry from all sides. Harry punches, ducks and kicks out with his legs. They broke the rail and fall into the mud the fight got worse. But Harry ground all of his attackers then there were gun shots.

Guard 1: Place the boy in salutary confinement.

Guard 2: Protection.

Harry: I don’t need protection.

Guard 1: Protection for them.

Harry was thrown into a dark and very dirty cell. He got up and moved away from the guard standing over the door to the far wall were there was a water pipe dipping. Ducard watched Harry in the shadow of the door way.

Ducard: Are you so desperate to fight criminals and dark magic users that you lock yourself in to take them on one at a time.

Harry can tell the person talking is from somewhere in European. But the voice as also mellifluous as well. Harry turns to the shadow. Touches his split lid. Sardonic.

Harry: Actually, there were seven of them.

Ducard: I counted six. Mr. Potter.

Harry: How do you know my name?

Ducard: The world is too small for someone like Harry Potter to disappear (Gestures around them.) No matter how deep he chooses to sink.

Harry: Who are you?

Ducard: My name is merely Ducard. But I speak for Ra’s al Ghul. A man greatly feared by the criminal underworld. A man who can offer you a path.

Harry: What makes you think I need a path?

Ducard looks around the cell.

Ducard: Someone like you is only here by choice. You were placed here by your ministry of magic for going dark or some charge like that. But you have been exploring the criminal fraternity more sense coming here. But whatever your original goal was to beat the Dark Lord Voldemort you have become truly lost.

Harry: What path does Ra’s al Ghul offer?

Ducard: Well for one he can remove the two bracelets you wear to make you a muggle. The path of one who shares his hated of evil and wishes to serve true justice. The path of the League of Shadows.

Harry: You’re Vigilante like the person known as the Batman in America.

Ducard: Batman was a student of mine till he lost interest in destroying the corrupt justice system. A vigilante is just a man lost in the scramble for his own gratification…He can be destroyed, or locked up…(Indicates cell.)But if you make yourself more than just a man…if you devote yourself to an ideal…if they can’t stop you…then you become something else entirely…

Harry: Which is?

Ducard moves to the door. Which opens to his touch.

Ducard: A legend, Mr. Potter.

A guard steps aside to let Ducard pass.

Ducard: Tomorrow you’ll be released. If you’re bored of brawling with muggle thieves, dark magic user and want to achieve something, there’s a rare flower – a blue poppy – that grows on the eastern slopes. Pick one of these flowers. If you can carry to the top of the mountain, you may find what you were looking for in the first place.

Harry: And what was I looking for?

Ducard looks at Harry with a glint in his eye.

Ducard: Only you can know that.

The door slams shut. Harry lies in the darkness of his cell, staring up…Shadows of bat cross his face, his eyes close and we are- back in the cave from Harry childhood. Potter tumbles through the dust, rolling bumping and we are – Harry rolls along – a Russian army truck speeding off. A soldier tosses Harry’s small pack after him. Harry watches the truck speed off. Picks himself up. Grabs his pack. Turns to look across the plain to the distant foot hills. A field of exquisite blue poppies. Harry approaches. Picks one. Studies its brilliant blue in the cold sunshine.

Child (out of sight): No one will help you.

Harry turns to find a young child staring at him. The child points at the blue flower pinned to Harry chest. An old man appears at the child’s side.

Harry: I need food.

Old Man: Then turn back.

Harry looks at the Old Man. Then carries on up the mountain. Harry struggles through driving snow up an icy ridge. He clears the ridge, flops down into the snow, painfully raises his scarf-wrapped face to the cutting wind to see a monastery perched on a jagged rock. Harry climbs the steps to the vast doors of the monastery. Unwraps a severely frostbitten fist. Pounds desperately against the ice-covered wood, knocks echoing deep within. A grinding noise from within. Harry stops, straightens. The doors swing open to darkness…Harry shuffles forward into a low-ceilinged wooden hall lit by flickering lamps. Hands trembling, Harry pulls at brittle scarves. He starts as the doors thud shut behind him. At the far end, on a raised platform, sits a dark, robed figure: Ra’s al Ghul. Harry moves unsteadily towards him.

Harry: Ra’s al Ghul?

Armed warriors of various races emerge from the shadows, their dress a mixture of modern combat and ethnic dress.

Ducard (out of sight): Wait.

The warriors hold. Harry looks at the source of the command: Ducard leans against a nearby pillar. Harry reaches into his layers of clothing. Pulls out the blue poppy. Holds it out, shaking.

Ducard (still out of sight): What are you seeking?

Harry: I…I seek…the means to fight injustice. To turn fear against those who prey on the fearful.

Ducard takes the flower. Considers it delicate blue petals. Puts the flower into his buttonhole. Ra’s al Ghul speaks.

Ducard (translating): To manipulate the fears of other you must first master your own (His own words) Are you ready to begin?

Harry (trembling with fatigue): I...I can barely –

Ducard kicks him – Harry crashes to the floor.

Ducard: Death does not wait for you to be ready…

Harry crawls, gasping. Ducard strikes him in the ribs,

Ducard: Death is not considerate, or fair. And make no mistake – here, you face death…

Ducard turns – whips his leg in a fearsome roundhouse kick aimed straight at Harry’s neck – but harry blocks the kick with a lateral movement of his forearms. He stares at Ducard, Eyes blazing. Ducard smiles. Harry rises. Assumes a martial stance. Ducard strikes – Harry blocks and parries, driving his body through pain into a series of fluid, skilled moves.

Ducard: Tiger Crane…Ju Jitsu…(Smiles) Skilled. But this is not a dance-

Ducard head smashes Harry’s cheek – Harry falters – Ducard smashes him in the groin – slams Harry’s chin, sends him down hard.

Ducard: And you are afraid

Ducard crouches at Harry’s side. Looks into his glazed eyes.

Ducard (curious): But not of me.

Ducard pulls the flower from his lapel. Leans in close to replace it on Harry’s chest, his lips at Harry’s ear

Ducard: Tell us, Potter…

Violent flapping, screeching black bats – swarming, chattering

Ducard (voice-over): What do you fear?

Young Harry’s eyes open, and we are back in the cave- Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared in the cave to find a very large mass of bat and a young boy laying on the floor his head covered with his hands. Shacklebolt released that the boy was none other than Harry Potter the boy-who-lived. Harry jacket is on the floor a good ten feet from him. Kingsley quickly banished most of the bat to their homes around England.

Shacklebolt: Is this your son?

Young Harry looks up: a young beat police man with an odd stick in his hand stands over him – Kingsley Shacklebolt (Twenty-nine). Shacklebolt crouches, reaches out to the boy with the jacket in his hand. Harry grabs it and starts to huddle over it, protective.

Shacklebolt (reassuring): It’s OK.

Shacklebolt’s tone prompts Young Harry to trust him. Shacklebolt takes his jacket and places on young Harry’s shoulder. There was a second popping noise that made Harry jump in to the air. Shacklebolt managed to keep the child from freaking out as an older police man appeared right next to them. Young Harry had closed his eyes and blinked quickly trying to figure out how the man just appeared out of nowhere.

Scrimgeour : Shacklebolt! You gotta stick your nose into everything?!

Shacklebolt glares at him as he tries to calm young Harry down. Shacklebolt turns to Captain Scrimgeour, who glares at him.

Scrimgeour: Outta my sight.

Shacklebolt nods to young Harry, whose eyes wish Shacklebolt would stay. Shacklebolt leaves with a soft popping noise. Scrimgeour turns to young Harry.

Scrimgeour: Try not to do more accidental magic again Mr. Potter. You are getting to old to have these kinds of attacks.

Young harry looks up at him, confused and dazed. Uncertain as to what to say.
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