crossoverfic | Fic: The Soul Has Bandaged Moments (PG) Harry Potter/Stargate Atlantis Chapter 4

Title:The Soul Has Bandaged Moments

Author:serendu

Summary:Harry Potter was 18 when he first stepped into Atlantis.

Previous chapters can be found here in my journal memories:Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Disclaimers: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing also Kawoosh! Productions and Gekko Film Corporation, and Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer Television. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Pairing: None

Author Notes: F.A.O for those who asked is For the Attention Of. At least – that’s what I was told in my first ever job…

Also – thanks for all the reviews. They keep me motivated, and make the ideas keep coming!

***

Flying in a Chinook helicopter was nothing like flying on a broomstick – something Harry was becoming very familiar with.

‘Heads up – we’re going in!’

Harry ducked down for a brief moment, sensing the helicopter’s descent. All he knew was that he was here to follow orders – regardless of how insane they may have seemed. I’m gaining a new appreciation of Hermione. He thought as he braced himself for a bumpy impact. She must have hated the way we all went off and did our own thing without any plan whatsoever. Now at least there usually is a plan, but it tends to go horribly wrong in the first five minutes…

‘Alright people – move it!’

Harry jumped out of the helicopter, landed on the ground, and took up a defensive position. His fellow troops swiftly followed. None showed their ranks on their uniform. This was a highly classified mission.

‘Alright – move out.’

Quietly each member of the strike team made their way to the enemy facility. It was to be Harry’s first real mission. And it turned out to be a very memorable one indeed.

***

‘Sir.’ Harry radioed his team leader.

‘Report Potter.’

‘We’ve found cells down here. At least one is occupied.’

‘Guards?’

‘No sir. None in the area.’

‘Proceed with extreme caution.’

‘Roger that. Potter out.’ He signalled to his partner for the mission, a dark haired Geordie known simply as Trent. Trent nodded before the two set off down the darkened corridor, glancing into each cell through the door as they went.

‘Dead.’ Trent spat out in disgust. He looked up at Harry. ‘You sure you want to check to the end?’

Harry grimaced, but nodded, tightening his hold on his weapon.

‘Right, lets not leave these poor bastards here - if any of them are still alive.’ Trent paused. ‘I’m thinking if any of them are and can’t move out with us – they may not want to stay that way – you get me?’ He looked at Harry significantly.

Harry blanched as Trent’s meaning sank in. ‘Do it.’ He replied thickly, finding it suddenly difficult to swallow.

Trent nodded and moved off into the dark, Harry bringing up the rear. Trent entered the first cell, gazing down at the body on the floor. He cautiously kicked the body over, the face obviously beaten, with dried blood underneath where the man had lain dying. Harry felt bile rising up as he took in the grim view, but then managed to gulp it down.

‘It gets to us all.’ Trent said, watching Harry carefully. ‘You only have a problem when it doesn’t anymore.’ Harry took a deep breath as Trent pushed the body back with his foot. ‘Come on Potter. Lets check out the rest.’

This is the stuff of nightmares. Harry thought grimly as they entered into the last couple of cells. Whoever these people were, the people who murdered them like this are monsters. I don’t think if we come across them tonight I’ll have a problem with killing them. He thought back to the cell with the body of a small child that had made even Trent flinch. No problem at all.

Trent went to kick over the last when he paused. He watched for a moment and then reached down and pulled him over. ‘This one’s alive!’

Harry focussed his gaze on the figure’s face. A man. He noted. Then, unbelievably, the man opened his eyes and met Harry’s. Brown eyes. He thought absently.

Then Trent noticed that the man’s eyes were open.

‘Fuck it.’ He said abruptly. ‘Grab his arm Potter. We’re taking him with us.’

***

‘Report Potter.’

‘One hostage alive sir. We’re taking him to the pick up point.’

‘No others?’

‘None sir.’

‘Roger that – move out.’

***

It was raining by the time they got to the pick up point. The man was still alive as far as Harry could tell, although he obviously needed urgent medical treatment. He was still breathing, and as far as Harry knew – that was a good thing.

‘Bring him here lads.’ Their medic spoke out of his hidden place, waiting for the helicopter.

Trent and Harry carried the man over to the medic, before laying him down gently on the stretcher the medic had prepared.

Harry could hear the distant sound of ‘chopper blades. The enemy building lit up the night sky when it exploded.

***

‘Hey there.’

‘Err… Hi?’ Harry answered the young man leaning against his doorframe.

‘I hear I owe you big time.’ The man limped in and sat down in a chair facing Harry. ‘Of course – you weren’t really there in the country. Let alone anywhere near the facility. That the British know nothing about.’ He grinned. ‘But – I owe you my life.’

Harry’s jaw dropped as he recognised the face and brown eyes. It had been over six months since the mission, and he had all but forgotten the man sitting in front of him. Though how I can forget that place is beyond me. He mentally shrugged, I suppose the missions following it haven’t been easy either.

‘So I was wondering – buy you a pint?’

‘Sorry.’ Harry replied. ‘I’m not quite old enough yet.’ Better get that out of the way first, he can still buy me a drink after he finds out he could be breaking the law.

‘Neither am I!’ Replied the man grinning widely now. ‘At least – not technically.’

‘Hey there kid – you ready to…’ Alan trailed off as he noted the stranger sitting in Harry’s room.

The two men warily eyed each other. Harry watched.

‘I was just stopping by to offer to buy a drink.’ The man stated calmly.

Alan raised an eyebrow and looked over to Harry. ‘He’s too young.’

‘Saved my life. Wanted to say thanks.’

‘You look too young too.’ Alan commented, looking back toward the man.

‘True.’

Alan groaned. ‘Look – I’ve had an incredibly long week and just wanted to catch up with things. Why don’t I buy you both a drink and you can tell me all the non-classified bits?’

‘Sounds good to me – you in Potter?’ The man asked.

‘Sure.’ Harry replied, putting down the book he had been attempting to read. ‘If you’re buying – why not?’

***

‘So – you’re telling me – the Vold-a-wart guy wants to kill everyone without magic?’

‘Vold-a-wart! Hah!’ Harry fell off his chair.

Alan nodded his head a bit too much and began looking a little green. ‘Yep.’ He hiccupped.

Harry clambered back onto his chair in the pub, the patrons around their little group studiously ignoring the three very drunk men. ‘He killed my parents. My godfather. My sh-sh-schoolmate Cedirc. I mean C-c-cedric. Killed them all.’

‘Humph.’ The man looked at his pint before gesturing at the barman in the hope of another, ‘What are you going to do about it?’ He asked. ‘And the rat man – Wormtail.’

The barman shook his head at the three of them. ‘Time, gentlemen.’ He called.

Harry stood, before offering his hands to Alan and his new-best friend whose name he’d already forgotten. ‘I.’ He announced, ‘Am going to kill him. It’s my deshtiiiny.’

It would have been far more imposing if Alan’s weight hadn’t pulled both Harry and their new best friend into a sprawling pile of limbs, before all three erupted into giggles.

After a good five minutes of struggling, Harry finally managed to get himself untangled from the other two. He blinked owlishly as he grinned at his new best friend.

‘What did you say your name was again?’
The young man paused for a moment as though he himself had forgotten before answering. ‘Jack.’

***

And it starts to get somewhere vaguely interesting. *smiles* for anyone asking – ‘Time’ in a drinking establishment means – drink up because we’re closing.