[FF] Trinity VII: The Twilight (Type-Moon/Harry Potter X-over)

[Xamusel]

Well... shit just got real. D:

[Kieran]

oh shite.......

So you did manage to tie up the loose end that was Shin Tohno.

Marvelous.

. . . Well, too many people wanted to see Takara kick his ass, so I came to the conclusion that the little bastard had to survive - but only for a given value of "survive," eh?

I was a little lost in terms of who you meant was the one " taunting her by saying he knew witches that could beat her who hadn’t even taken their O.W.L.s yet, he really wasn’t kidding!"

I'm just gonna assume Moody.

You are correct, sir - sorry I wasn't clear.

Well... shit just got real. D:

Yup.

[hatori]

I love how it feels like the upcoming fights will be:

- Galen vs Greyback
- Ginny and Kingsley ( with maybe more additionals) vs Bella, and
- Takara vs Shin

[Kieran]

. . . Well, that was what was asked for (more or less) - and I do try to please.

[MWkillkenny84]

Good lord, Shin got Doomsday'ed!

... you know what could be a good gag?

He (or anyone else above a certain level of danger) got in Illya's range... only to be pummeled, JoJo's Stands style, by the ghostly image of Berserakles, returned again from the beyond to protect his little white-haired Master.

[Kieran]

Good lord, Shin got Doomsday'ed!

I was wondering if anyone else would see a resemblance . . .

... you know what could be a good gag?

He (or anyone else above a certain level of danger) got in Illya's range... only to be pummeled, JoJo's Stands style, by the ghostly image of Berserakles, returned again from the beyond to protect his little white-haired Master.

Maybe . . .? Everything I've ever heard of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure just implies it would give me a migraine. The general concept sounds funny, though - but kind of hard to explain in-universe.

[MWkillkenny84]

I was wondering if anyone else would see a resemblance . . .

It was the first thing that came to my mind...

Maybe . . .? Everything I've ever heard of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure just implies it would give me a migraine. The general concept sounds funny, though - but kind of hard to explain in-universe.

Or simply have Berserakles appear like a ghost... and make one of his roars, punching the danger (and inflicting actual damages) with Shirou curling in a foetal position, because certain things leave a mark... like being pummeled by Berserakles, regardless of the timeline.

[Kieran]

Sorry, everybody. I truly meant to have the next chapter up today, but I'm stuck at about 70% page quota, 80% story content complete - there's just not enough info on Barty Crouch Jr. to really predict how he'd fight, much less how a fight between Crouch and Shirou would go, specifically.

As such, I will be posting the next chapter when it's complete, even if that happens to be before next Sunday. It's the only compensation I can offer . . . Again, sorry.

[Xamusel]

...oh, great. Didn't Jr. die in book 4 (canonically)? I mean, if you really need to use him in a fight, you could try making him a wildcard... no, not counting the Persona-verse adaptation of it. I was just referring to the fact that he doesn't have a set fighting style. For all we know, he could be a wizarding version of an Out-Boxer, so to speak...

:O I got an idea! Barty Crouch Jr. is a wizard-style Boxer!

[Kieran]

DISCLAIMER: Lunar Legend Tsukihime, Fate/Stay Night, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon, along with anyone who's happened to license them, like Geneon or Funimation. Harry Potter and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of J.K. Rowling, along with her publishers and Warner Bros., as regards the movie material.

This is a not-for-profit, just-for-fun project.



Writer's Note: Certain dialogue sequences in this story are lifted from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, but I trust in the intelligence of my readers (and the availability of the books) to recognise them.




Chapter 81 – Three Strikes




May 2, 1998






In another time and place, Bellatrix Lestrange would get into a duel with Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, and Ginny Weasley, simultaneously. And in the process, she’d so thoroughly defeat them that Molly Weasley was required to intervene to save her daughter’s life. And that, Neville ascribed mostly to dramatic license – having personal experience with Lestrange, with all due respect to the Weasley matriarch, Neville really didn’t think the older red-haired witch could pull it off . . .

However, it was his hope that she wouldn’t have to try.

For starters, Ginny wasn’t surrounded by students; she had Aurors and Professor Lupin with her (though the fact that Lestrange had apparently killed two of the three wasn’t all that reassuring . . .). Aside from that, they were all juiced up by the Elixir of Life – well, all except Professor Lupin. Apparently, werewolves reacted badly to the stuff . . .

Which begs the question of just how Galen survived it, a part of his mind mused idly – but he couldn’t afford to give it a great deal of thought right now.

Instead, he was running on instinct, in a very literal sense; his Animagus enhancements didn’t extend to vision like most of his friends, but his hearing was as sharp as any of the trinity’s, and his nose was none too shabby, either. More importantly, those enhancements did extend to the fact that grizzly bears had been known to sprint up to sixty-four kilometres per hour (or forty miles, for those few places that didn’t use metric).

Despite being nearly seven feet tall, and almost twenty stone – not to mention thundering through the halls like a one-man dinosaur stampede – only the fastest of the combatants could do more than catch a glimpse of him as he passed. Heavy though he might be, with the Elixir flowing through his veins, his bulky form felt light as air, and he moved with that sensation thrumming through him, even as his long strides ate up the ground.

Of course, his training helped; in addition to standard runs to build speed and endurance, they’d also learned parkour over the years – and the interior of Hogwarts was an enthusiast’s wet dream, as his older friends occasionally put it. Shifting staircases, mobile suits of armour – even flying spells were effectively just one more obstacle, and Neville ducked, weaved, and slid around them appropriately.

However, even as his body raced through the hallways, and the world flew around him to his senses, Neville’s mind was focussed on a point further away: Bellatrix Lestrange. Of all those involved, he blamed her for his parents’ conditions, first and foremost. Until relatively recently, he thought Barty Crouch Junior to have died in Azkaban, and all accounts had painted the Lestrange brothers as eager participants in Death Eater activities . . . But Bellatrix had always been especially noted for her cruelty, as well as her creativity in using it – and the sheer joy she took in doing so.

And now she was going after Ginny . . .

As it was, Neville was moving faster than he ever had before, and with less effort – but he managed to dig out just a little more speed as that particular thought crossed his mind again.

Before he ever saw her; he heard her. There was no question that it was Bellatrix; that near-hysterical cackle was the earliest memory he had. It had haunted his nightmares for years, as much as the near-empty shells of his parents ever had. The sound caused him to glance out and to his right as he rounded a corner – out in the courtyard below, where he could see her cackling and dancing amidst a flurry of flying spells.

Honestly, it was a terrifying sight. Sure, it looked like holding off four skilled combatants simultaneously in close quarters was making her work for it, but the same token, she was still doing it!

Combine that with his childhood terror of her and what she’d done to his parents, and Neville doubted that anyone would really blame him for freezing up – heck, if they had any sense, compassion, or both, they’d expect him to!

However, there were three very good reasons not to, in Neville’s mind. First, this wasn’t the first time he’d seen – or fought, for that matter – an opponent capable of engaging (and defeating) multiple opponents with seeming ease; Takara and Shirou had done it frequently, in the early days of their training. Second, that same experience had given him the ability to analyse fights, when he was in position to observe them, as now. As such, he could tell that Bellatrix was pretty much going all out, and that a fifth opponent would probably be more than she could handle – at least, if said opponent had any skill or power to speak of. Like, say, himself.

But it was the third reason that really compelled him to go after her: that he’d hated her for what she’d done for as long as he’d feared her . . . Or, in the words of Bugs Bunny, “I’ll be scared later – right now I’m too MAD.”

Neville watched the battle as his approached, looking at the patterns, the arcs of fire – and picked his moment.

“Depulso,” he incanted, wand pointed behind him.

It had taken him weeks to work out this trick; luckily, his self-imposed exile in the Shrieking Shack had given him the time. The Banishing Charm propelled him forward at extreme speed, helped by a timed lunge from his own legs. It would never match a broomstick of the Firebolt’s calibre, but for a quick boost in close quarters – say, to catch a speedy, agile opponent or Apparition specialist off-guard – it excelled.

Like a shot (and very nearly literally, at that) Neville was launched off the walkway, down towards where Bellatrix was boxed in. He had just enough time, in the midst of his fall, to bring up a Shield Charm – a spell whose primary function, after all, was to protect its caster, despite normally being wielded against incoming attacks. Likewise, Shield Charms couldn’t do much against the stupidly high velocity of things like bullets . . . But they had been known, historically, to stop a charging knight on horseback in full plate armour.

To the onlookers, the silvery spell seemed to form and explode in the same eye-blink, transferring all the accumulated kinetic energy into its target on impact. The sound of the impact echoed like the blast that had destroyed the main gates. It sent a vibration surging through the ground like a small earthquake, sending Tonks, at least, tumbling to the ground. To Neville, it felt like every bone in his arm from wrist to shoulder broke along with the Shield Charm; certainly, it sounded like it.

And as for Bellatrix . . .

She was driven into the wall like a bullet shot from a gun and buried in it up to her knees, leaving her calves and boots pretty much the only visible parts of her; and those at eye-level. Judging by the lack of struggling, however – to say nothing of the pulpy mess surrounding the impact site – it didn’t matter all that much.

“OK,” Neville wheezed to himself, “maybe I won’t use that one on Galen . . .”

He only realised that he’d been heard when Luna began to audibly struggle against laughing.

But she lost it totally, with Neville joining her, when Ginny began quietly singing, “Ding-dong, the witch is dead . . .”






Contrary to the ideal embodied by Gryffindor house, Lavender Brown was not, as a rule, the most “daring” of people. In fact, any number of people would (and did) consider her a stereotypical blonde: shallow and air-headed. To be fair to her detractors, her general behaviour did reinforce the impression; and given examples such as Remus Lupin – or Peter Pettigrew, to use a more appropriate one – the idea that her sorting was a mistake wasn’t all that far-fetched.

But Lavender Brown was a Gryffindor; and if there was any doubt of it, her willingness to attack Fenrir Greyback in the middle of his attempt to attack her best friend Parvati was ample proof of it.

The beast had to be Greyback, standing at half again her height, and at least three times as broad as she was, with a muzzle the length of her hand, filled with teeth size of her thumbs. If it wasn’t, then Lavender surely didn’t want to meet whatever the infamous werewolf had been transformed into.

As it was, the blonde had barely blinked, and the monster had crossed almost half the distance between them. Only the fact that her wand had been raised in a threatening position enabled her to cast a Banishing Charm along his path . . . And to her dismay, he merely slid back, nails digging furrows into the stone floor of the room. Her next attack, attempting to set him ablaze with an “Incendio,” only seared off some of his fur, and maybe did some superficial damage to his skin.

Then Lavender blinked again, and barely had time to scream, as Greyback was nearly within arm’s reach—!

And a roaring wind, propelling blue waves of force, slammed into the bipedal beast from the side, pushing Greyback along their path, and away from the girls. He struggled, but found himself slowly but surely being shoved back, despite his best efforts.

“Wha—?” Lavender started, even as she watched the beast fight against the obvious spell.

Her answer came in the form of a sharply-incanted “Protego horribilis!”

At that incantation, the waves redoubled in force and brightness, nearly screaming as they overwhelmed Greyback’s efforts and flat-out shoved him through a window, sending the snarling brute tumbling into the courtyard below.

“Are you all right?” Salvatore – because of course it was – demanded curtly, the golden flecks in his eyes blazing like sparks in a fire.

“He didn’t get me,” Lavender confirmed, before glancing at her friend. “’Vati?”

The dark-haired girl shook her head, eyes wide.

“Good,” Salvatore said flatly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, that fall won’t kill him.”

Without another word, he dove out the window feet-first – and the witches heard a terrible thump, alongside a clang of something metal being struck with great force, and the crunch of bone simultaneously. This was followed by a pair of thumps, one of them echoed with that metal gonging sound again. When Lavender and Parvati got to the window, they saw the two forms rising within the otherwise-empty courtyard – one smoothly, in a swirl of gray leather, the other roughly, snarling and spitting out broken fangs.

Neither girl had any interest in martial arts, precisely. Lavender was aware of them, through movies, but short of watching Neville Longbottom practice a few times (mainly because he did so shirtless), neither she nor Parvati had any expertise on the subject.

It did not take an expert, however, to realise that using them against a werewolf was virtually suicide – nor to see that, despite that fact, Galen was beating Greyback to a pulp.

Oh, the older werewolf was bigger by a large margin, and had the advantage of experience – but the potion they’d been given allowed their strength, speed and stamina to probably match that of a fully-transformed werewolf. And given that Galen had started the fight by throwing Greyback out of a third-floor window, and then (if they understood the sounds correctly) using his head as a springboard as he tried to climb back up (with steel-soled combat boots, Lavender realised, remembering a long-ago boast), it would be fair to say the latter was in worse shape.

Salvatore dodged frenzied swipes from Greyback’s apelike arms easily, before lashing out with a kick to the ribs broke (or perhaps re-broke) several, to the point where Lavender could see spikes of bone jutting from Greyback’s back. It brought him to one knee, where a second kick – and this time, she heard the metallic clanging that went with it – shattered that one. The effect doubled Greyback over, allowing Salvatore to slam both fists against his ears, and elicit a howl of pain that Lavender could feel vibrating in her own chest.

“Oh gods,” Parvati moaned. “This is just torture . . .”

“It is,” Padma allowed, clenching the shoulder she’d landed on as she came up to the window herself. “It’s also nothing compared to what Greyback’s inflicted on his victims . . .” She glanced down. “And he’s one of them.”

Meanwhile, Salvatore’s response to Greyback’s cry had been to grip the beast’s jaws, tense – and with an enraged cry of his own, tear the lower mandible off completely.

Lavender had to check her ears, after that; by the scream that followed, she honestly expected them to be bleeding.

“. . . All right,” Padma admitted. “That’s a bit excessive.”

Parvati was too busy being noisily sick, while Lavender watched Salvatore backhand Greyback with his own jaw, sending him sprawling away. Transferring the jawbone to his other hand, his wand suddenly appeared in his right, and the still-bleeding werewolf – the impossibly still-living werewolf – sprang into the air, suspended by an ankle.

“FOURTEEN YEARS, YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!” Salvatore yelled, visibly seething. “It’s not enough – it’s nowhere near enough . . .! But it never would be,” he admitted, in a suddenly, but not-at-all-reassuringly calmer tone, “And I have things to do.

“Sectumsempra,” he concluded, and the werewolf’s head tumbled to the ground.

“Greyback is down, Ilya,” he announced after dropping the jawbone and pulling something from a pocket. “What’s the next hotspot?”

Whatever he was using didn’t project sound clearly enough to tell anything beyond the fact that there was a response at their distance, but he simply nodded at it. “Right – I’m on my way.”

He took off at a full sprint, leaving the three witches staring after him.

“Is it just me,” Lavender asked, “or was that incredibly hot?”

“WHAT?!” Parvati shrieked. “No, Lavender! He’s a walking nightmare!”

“Not to mention,” Padma added dryly, “very taken – and if you think there’s any way Granger and Aozaki won’t figure it out, much less skin you alive if you try anything—”

“Oh, no,” Lavender insisted in a mildly horrified tone. “There are loads of wizards who are much better looking . . .” She flushed briefly before adding, “But when was the last time you ever even dreamed of one who could beat a werewolf practically to death with their bare hands?”

“. . . All right,” Padma allowed, with darkening cheeks, “I’ll admit that there’s a certain macho appeal to the concept . . .”

“Damn it . . .” Parvati muttered. “You’re right – but if they’re all like Salvatore . . .” She winced. “Why are all the good boys always either taken, insane, or both?”






Shirou had gone into fights unprepared before – it was practically his modus operandi, way back when. So it went without saying that he was pretty used to it by now – but he’d never liked it . . .

And sadly, there was no way he couldn’t be unprepared for it, because the sources just weren’t available. All the books and movies told him about Barty Crouch Junior was that the man was a consummate actor, familiar with the Unforgivable Curses, and capable of both human-to-animal Transfiguration, as well as casting a Confundus Charm powerful enough to affect the Goblet of Fire.

None of that gave much insight into his fighting style, preferred spells, or weaknesses – and since the only known witnesses to his original Death Eater activities were Frank and Alice Longbottom, he’d had no chance to try and gain firsthand accounts.

There was Sirius Black, granted – but opportunities to speak to the man had been limited, and he wouldn’t necessarily have the sort of information Shirou wanted. Voldemort had largely been avoiding battle when Sirius was undercover, after all, to say nothing of his minions. Still, it was an opportunity he was kicking himself for having missed, now.

Despite the lack of information, however, what Shirou did know about Crouch gave him a few expectations of how the man would fight. His knack for the Unforgivables – to say nothing about the fact that he’d been grouped with the Lestranges, before his arrest – implied that he enjoyed making people suffer. Certainly his Transfiguration of Malfoy in the canon timeline, and his actions with the spider said as much he liked playing with his victims in a dramatic fashion.

So, it was a good bet that Crouch would go for the pain, instead of the kill. He’d use tricks and misdirection to keep Shirou off-balance, and do everything he could to keep the suffering going for as long as possible – the proverbial death of a thousand cuts. But because he wasn’t an idiot, he’d aim for every shot to put Shirou down; a crippling blow, if not a lethal one. He wouldn’t risk Shirou’s getting a lucky shot, and turning the tables on him.

In short, this promised to be an interesting fight, from the perspective of Cu Chulainn and those like him – and under other circumstances, he admitted that he might’ve been tempted by the prospect, himself. Just to see how he matched up against a genuinely powerful, fully-trained and combat-capable wizard. Given the situation and the stakes, however, Shirou couldn’t say that he took any pleasure in the idea of what was no doubt going to be a very difficult fight.

. . . But then again, he had no intention of actually fighting.






Hogwarts’ Hospital Wing had an antechamber at its entrance, for security reasons, but not a large one – and the antechamber’s entrance was in a corridor that opened up in several different directions. It was presumably the best compromise the castle’s architects could make between having quick and ready access to medical facilities available for the wounded, and protecting those selfsame wounded from potential invaders.

As such, Barty Crouch Junior – who was again, not an idiot – was making his way very cautiously from one of the passages, stopping to check corners with a Conjured mirror before silently incanting “Homineum revello,” to reveal hidden enemies. Only when the spell returned a negative result did he go about making his way into the passage proper . . .

And then he stopped, and stared in consternation at the runes, infused with silvery metal, inscribed on the doors to the Hospital Wing; the very same markings which had exploded with such violent force on Hogwarts’ gates. And in such a relatively confined space as this, the blast would rend him to pieces. Even distance was no guarantor of safety – the contours of the hallways would shape the blast, and channel it straight towards him.

“Well, bugger,” the Death Eater muttered. “Hadn’t expected this kind of protection . . .” He stepped closer to examine it more carefully. “Now, how to get ar—”

The world went abruptly, briefly wet—and then dark.






Shirou lowered his rifle from his position on the stairs, dispelling the Disillusionment as he did. The illusion of the runes, he left in place.

“. . . I really wanted to save my last bullet for Riddle,” he muttered disappointedly. The look on the megalomaniac’s face when he realised how he was going to die would’ve been almost as good as the sight of his brain spattered across the closest wall – even better than that of his lieutenant’s.

“Papa might have a few rounds left,” Ilya offered.

The thought cheered him, and Shirou smiled. “Thanks, Ilya-chan.”

She didn’t say anything about his chosen method of eliminating Crouch, not that he really expected her to. She’d been raised as a magus, after all; and in this reality, by the Magus Killer. If anybody understood . . .

No, he admitted, that wasn’t quite fair. A number of the people they knew would understand – understand that this was war, and that as fun and flashy as magical duels might be, the objective was to eliminate the enemy, by any means necessary. Granted, given whom Ilya had dispatched the others to face, he suspected Galen would be too angry – and too influenced by his lupine instincts – to resist trying to tear Greyback apart with his bare hands. Neville was a possibility in that regard, as well; if anyone was liable to rouse his temper, it’d be Bellatrix Lestrange.

“In any case,” Ilya continued, “according to the Map, that’s all of Riddle’s lieutenants taken care of, so now we can—”

She trailed off suddenly, staring at a point Shirou couldn’t see.

“What is it?” Shirou demanded.

“You’re not going to believe this,” she answered, “because I don’t . . .”






“. . . OW—ZA—KEE . . .!”

[hatori]

Oh bugger.

Bella getting pulped by Neville, yes!
Greyback literally torn to pieces by Galen, check.
Barty getting a case of "Boom, headshot"?, you've certainly given him the easiest possible end

Shin, the second to last loose end? Priceless.

Totally looking forward to the next chapter.

[Rai Burnout]

Ding dong, the bitch is dead! What was that? Crouch lost his head!

Nice chapter if a bit quick. Neville's cannonball trick was nice. Plus Galen beating Greyback to death with his own jaw is always fun. ("One man killing a monster, with the jawbone of an ass.")

Shin is screwed and after him all that's left is Voldy himself.

[Funderfullness]

"Galen, how do you beat someone to death with their own skull? That doesn't seem physically possible."

[Kieran]

First, I added the music I meant to - the stuff I was listening to as I wrote, in fact - to the chapter.

Oh bugger.

Well, it's not all meant to be easy . . .

Ding dong, the bitch is dead! What was that? Crouch lost his head!

. . . I believe the appropriate term here is "LMAO" - thanks.

Nice chapter if a bit quick.

It is, and I'm sorry about that - but I couldn't figure out how to extend it without making it two chapters long, and I was already so late with this one . . .

Bella getting pulped by Neville, yes!

Neville's cannonball trick was nice.

Glad you all approve. I thought there would be a certain irony in the wickedest witch of the Dark getting one-shotted . . . Actually, that's not too far off how she went in canon, is it?

Greyback literally torn to pieces by Galen, check.

Plus Galen beating Greyback to death with his own jaw is always fun. ("One man killing a monster, with the jawbone of an ass.")

Not quite - he only tore it off because the howl was hurting his ears (and because it would hurt like hell). In theory, Greyback should've just bled to death after that; however, he was tough enough to actually need to be decapitated.

Barty getting a case of "Boom, headshot"?, you've certainly given him the easiest possible end

Well, after I figured out how Barty would likely fight (see Shirou's analysis), I then tried to figure out how Shirou would counter . . . And realised I was overthinking it. This is Shirou, but he's Archer, too; he'd go for the least complicated means of eliminating his enemy. And he had a gun - as Kiritsugu noted, Hogwarts' corridors are too close-quarters for it to really be effective, but for one shot at some distance . . .?

The fact that it plays out as an homage to Raiders of the Lost Ark has nothing to do with it, I swear.

Shin, the second to last loose end? Priceless.

Shin is screwed and after him all that's left is Voldy himself.

Yup.

Totally looking forward to the next chapter.

Always good to hear.

"Galen, how do you beat someone to death with their own skull? That doesn't seem physically possible."

Galen: "Magic."

[Xamusel]

...so much for my idea of Barty being a magical boxer.

[Kieran]

...so much for my idea of Barty being a magical boxer.

It wasn't necessarily a bad idea - just not one that I could find a basis for. And like I said, I wound myself into a frenzy trying to plot out moves and countermoves, until I realised that I was overthinking it. So trying to build an entirely new fighting style based on boxing on top of that . . .

*Shrugs* Maybe another time.

[Xamusel]

Eh, true, you got a point. Oh well... I guess I'll use the idea for my Harry Potter crossover with Gundam Build Fighters and SRW that I'm posting on a separate forum.

[MWkillkenny84]

Bellatrix is roadkill via Bearville? Good.

Crouch Jr. got TF2-Sniper'ed by Shirou? Very good.

Greyback got Kratos'ed by Galen? Even better.

Now the last loose ties to be fixed are Doomshin and Voldemort.

Can't wait to see the beatdowns.

[Kieran]

Glad to hear it, but it could be a while - I strained my wrist this morning, so it'll probably be a few days before the tremors stop . . .

[Kieran]

. . . And it's been a while, obviously.

Part of the reason for the delay is that I've been considering the concept of casualties; I don't think it'd be entirely realistic for the good guys to get through this without any deaths, but I'm loathe to go the Rowling route of killing people just to kill people.

Thoughts and opinions?

(And yes, I am aware that there's no real dramatic impact in Galen's dying, by now - seeing as he's the only person Shirou knows who doesn't die when he is killed. )