nenagh_breen: (Default)
nenagh_breen ([personal profile] nenagh_breen) wrote2009-05-18 11:31 am

The Hand of the Other

Title: The Hand of the Other
Summary: After his unexpected death while at the Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter forgets his old life, becoming someone much more dangerous.
Fandom: Harry Potter/Bleach
Word Count: 3961
Rating/Warnings: PG13 for violence and language
Pairing: None
WARNING: All languages will be written without emphasis when spoken in their own countries (ie. English in England), and any others will be italicized unless written in the speakers second language (ie. Orihime would say, “help!” in England or she could say it like this, たすけて!help!’).
For Bleach Chapter 283 and the corresponding episode. So don’t blame me if you haven’t already read/watched that far!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but copies of books 1-7 of Harry Potter and a cute Monster book of Monsters, and I don’t own any Bleach items except for two Ulquiorra pictures, a Hitsugaya picture and a wall hanging. I cry.

The beginning is the fight scene from book five; all italicized parts are straight from the book. I take no credit.


Moody was lying on his side, bleeding from the head, and his attacker was now bearing down upon Harry and Neville: Dolohov, his long pale face twisted with glee.

“Tarantallegra!” he shouted, his wand pointing at Neville, whose legs went immediately into a kind of frenzied tap dance, unbalancing him and causing him to fall to the floor again.
Not wanting to have to deal with him again, the Death Eater attempted to finish the brown-haired boy off, “AVADA KEDAVERA!”

“No!” Harry yelled, jumping in front of his friend as he tried to push the incapacitated boy out of the way of the killing curse. He wasn’t fast enough. The green light reached him, cutting the only Chain of Fate that connected him to this world, the one linked to the very prophesy in his hands.

Immediately, his spirit, no longer having any ties to this world, not even any large emotional ones, all having been severed by the whiplash that the cutting of the prophesy’s Chain had caused, was blasted out of the mortal realm at a disturbing speed. Because of these extraordinary occurrences, both being sent to the spirit realm without an official sending them there and his spirit itself moving at high velocities as it did so, caused some strange and unusual things to happen.

First, his body, which had not even been connected to anything but having a spirit inside of it for nourishment, failed and decomposed quickly after being deprived of the only thing that had kept it living, especially after its own Chain had been broken at the age of one, and promptly disintegrated before the assembled companies horrified eyes. Second, and directly stemming from this first event, the prophesy unceremoniously smashed, but the words were drowned out by the screams coming from the boy’s Godfather, who hurled his body at the stunned Death Eater.

There were also inconsistencies formed on Harry’s part, as he wasn’t sent to the European division of Soul Society; instead, he was chucked into the closest weak point between worlds, to a place called Hueco Mundo while the strange angle only served to throw him about fifty years into the past.

Once he regained consciousness an unknown time after his death, he attempted to recall what exactly had happened, only to realize that many things, including a majority of his name, were missing from his memory. Not being able to scrape up enough emotion to care, he simply took the pieces he did know, a need to survive, a motto of ‘there is no good or evil, only power and those to weak to seek it’, and an all consuming hunger which he now possessed, and attempted to move forward with his existence. For his name, he used the pieces he vaguely recalled, a double ‘r’, an ‘o’, and an ‘a’. Placing them together randomly, he resolved to build himself a new name to go with this new life and went to look for food.

Spotting a strange lizard with a whole through its middle, he started hunting, never noticing that his black, white-masked shape wasn’t the one he’d always had.


Taking advantage of his opponent’s distraction, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques went to strike at Ichigo while Orihime still held his attention. He was disappointed, and slightly surprised, though he’d never admit it, as the orange haired boy stopped his incoming blow with one hand.

“Sorry ‘bout this, Grimmjow…” the young man said, turning his battered face, still retaining a quarter of a bone white mask on it, towards his attacker. “It looks like I can’t get hurt any mo--!” He cut off in shock, staring over the other man’s head with a look of stunned confusion. Hearing the gasps of the two onlookers, and being still unable to strike, he realized that they were looking in the general direction of where Ulquiorra disappeared. Thinking that he may have overestimated the time, the aqua-eyed man made a half turn to catch a glimpse of what was so strange. It only took him a fraction of a second before he realized what was out of place.

There, attached to what seemed to be empty space, was a Chain of Fate that seemed to be floating on the wind. As they watched, new links extended from the ever-lengthening chain before a small yell from Ichigo drew their attention down again. The look on his face said that he wouldn’t have been more surprised if Ulquiorra had popped out of the box smiling, playing a Ukulele and singing ‘Kumbaya.’ From the sand next to his feet, the shinigami had found another length of chain wiggling its way out of the sand.

Just at that moment, both metal chains seemed to ‘see’ one another and, after snapping straight along an invisible line, connected themselves. Unfortunately, Ichigo’s black steel sword, which had been in the way, was integrated into the links as well.

“What the--?” He attempted to pull his sword away, even firing a getsuga tensho at it in his desperation to free his weapon, as the sixth Espada simply smirked at his misfortune and made himself ready to take advantage of his opponents weakness. The clean, white bone half of his mask regenerated as he increased his spiritual power in a last ditch attempt to break the chain, but the effectiveness of this action wasn’t to be seen as, at that same time, the chain began to pull itself back into the ground, sucking sand and whatever was close down with it.

Grimmjow jumped back just in time to see the space under Ichigo’s feet turn in to an opening to another world. His eyes narrowed as his opponent was pulled through, the swiftly moving chain pulling the tiny box it was connected to through the whole swiftly as well, and, after taking note of the general area the rip in reality was linked to, he turned back to Orihime and her shield. Punching through it easily in his released form, and helped by her utter confusion over the action that had just occured, he picked her up and, ignoring the screaming Nell, dragged her back to Aizen. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining this, but he couldn’t let his prey get away so easily.


Clinging to his sword’s handle for dear life, Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief as he made it to the other side of the violent portal. He looked up to find a silent crowd both in front of him and, when he gave the rest of his surroundings a glance, behind. A battle had obviously been fought not long before, he realized, and the group behind him was definitely the loser, if their shamed, gritty faces and their kneeling positions were anything to go by.

「どこに居るか。」 ‘Where am I?’ Ichigo asked those around him, asking the strangely dressed people as he hefted his now free sword, the pesky Chain disappearing not long after he arrived.

A snake-like man that stood with the black-robed, white-masked group spoke up, laughing slightly as he seemed to berate a tired old man in the other faction, ignoring Ichigo completely. “A lost Japanese boy? That is who you summon with the last vestiges of your power, old man? You promised me Harry Potter!” The young man in question barely caught any of this, having had to skip many of his classes and studies during his time as a substitute shinigami, but could tell when he was being insulted.

Come over here and say it to my face instead of berating an defenseless old man, ugly!” he taunted in Japanese, interrupting anything else the monster-like man would have said or done, and confidently brought his zanpakutō up into a battle ready position.

「がきのばか、」 ‘Foolish boy,’ the man snorted at the taunt and proved his grasp of the young man’s own language, through his accent could use much work, “I am way out of your leauge, but,” he eyed Ichigo’s mask, which was frighteningly similar in design to those the man’s followers wore, “you seem to have potential.” Turning his head slightly, he switched to his native tounge made an order to one of his underlings, “McNair! Stun him to bring with us. He may prove to be useful yet.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Realizing that those orders would not bode well for him, even though he didn’t know what they were, he turned quickly to face the second speaker, just in time to catch a flying, electric blue light on his sword. He blocked at least five more, all from different people, when he was hit on the back and was paralyzed into stillness. They pointed their strange, sticklike weapons at him before Ichigo, who, had he had the capability, would have cursed in surprise, as he was lifted a half-meter off the ground and floated into the pack of black robed men and women. Unfortunately, they positioned him in such a fashion that, not only could he not see what was going on anymore, he could barely hear those in charge unless they were yelling.

He sighed mentally. Things just kept getting weirder and weirder.


After checking in with a dangerously calm Aizen, dropping the girl back off in her room, and picking up a few things, Grimmjow finally opened a door to the human realm, where he had been given permission to get Ulquiorra and Ichigo back to Hueco Mundo before any of the God’s plans could be damaged. Being inordinately lucky, the sixth Espada found that portal opened in such a way that much of it was hidden behind a stray, blackened tree, allowing him to watch the new people around him mostly unnoticed. ‘Mostly’ needing to be tacked on simply because his power was felt by each of them, but none knew where it was coming from.

Making his way into the tree, he became slightly excited, catching sight of a black clothed person wearing a skull mask, before he realized that the design was off and there were hundreds of people wearing the same uniform. Boredly checking their power levels he was disgusted to find how pitifully weak these people were; barely above that of a normal human, save for a few individuals who stood near the middle of the mass of mortals. He thought he could also sense the orange-haired nuisance, but couldn’t pinpoint him in the large group of people.

‘The bastard’s hiding!’ he concluded in his mind, with a soft growl leaking out of his mouth. ‘Fuckin’ coward!’

It was then that he started to feel the spiritual energy of his fellow Espada coming from the center of the two groups. Knowing what he had to do, though faintly dreading the fact that he might have to hold off, fight, or recapture someone who he had angered by capturing in the first place, the icy-blue-haired man jumped nimbly from tree to tree to get closer to the center of the pack, curious as to why the arrancar had been stolen in the first place.

He arrived just in time to see the box open in a flash of deep purple and bright white, mixed thoroughly with an emerald green as the fourth Espada’s natural energy fought the Caja Negaciόn, tearing it apart from the inside.


Ulquiorra Schiffer stood in what could be called a casual manor, his shoulders loose, hands in his pockets, and eyes never widening as he took in the completely new location around him. But, one could never be sure if this was really casual, as he stood like this at all times, when leaning against a wall or attacking. He felt a tinge of familiarity as he looked around at the shocked mortals around him, analyzing each of them before staring forward once more, the direction he could feel the most energy coming from.

Out of necessity, he asked the same question Ichigo had, though he, on the other hand, was already almost sure of the answer, 「どこに居るかと答えたほうが良いよ。」 ‘You’d better tell me where I am.’ This wasn’t as polite as the question the other had phrased; it was more like an order.

“Harry?” came a whispered call from behind. The green eyed man didn’t even blink his slightly sunken-in, viridian eyes. When no one answered his question, he didn’t sigh or even shrug, he simply went to turn away. It didn’t matter; he could get back to Hueco Mundo without knowing where he was.

An eerily familiar voice stopped him, hissing, “Where do you think you’re going, Potter?” Only signs that the half-helmeted man had heard him were the pause and one thought that was accepted with the many others running through his head. ‘English, then.’

“I do not know of any ‘Potter’, trash.” His writing off and blunt statement of his opinion of the snake-esque man seemed to incense the pale man. The fourth Espada ignored him and went to reach a more open space to open the road in, not wanting any trash to follow him back to his own world. Another spoke up, this time easily recognizable, spooking everyone else. Those who were standing took out sticks and pointed them around before locating the source, who was lounging in the bows of a nearby tree.

You won’t get very fucking far right now, Ulquiorra.” Moving his eyes to Grimmjow, his expression didn’t change, but the aqua-haired male felt the danger that the other man was bleeding and reluctantly answered the unvoiced question, if only because he was hoping to see the other’s expression at the time of discovery. “That fuckin’ Chain of Fate which brought you here won’t let you go that easily. Not after it dragged you out of Hueco Mundo, while you were still in the damned Caja Negaciόn, all the way to England.

Not even twitching at the reminder of the other’s actions as he filed that information away, Ulquiorra turned and tested the validity of the panther’s statement, charging a little energy around him. Glowing slightly green, the black haired man looked down his blue streaked face to his chest to find a chain attached to the front of his white cloak. Noting the position, he ignored the shocked stares of those around him and experimentally tugged it away from his collarbone. The back of his clothing caved in a little at the action, confusing those who saw it, even as Grimmjow showed off his long canines as he laughed.

Well, shit! It goes straight through ya’!” The sixth thought that this fact more than made up for the other’s lack of expression at the thought of not being able to leave and again laughed grandly in dark amusement.

Down below, the other Espada, wondering what he could be chained to as he wasn’t corporeal any longer, simply tugged the Chain of Fate in the other direction. He followed the small movement within the group and found the same lanky man who had spoke before, who was standing a little closer than when he had looked last, looking disgruntled. Another tug, another step closer.

Reexamining the man shaped thing in front of him, he noticed something that he hadn’t been able to see before. He sent more spiritual energy, though only a negligible amount for him, down the chain and exposed six other chains leading out of the man, though only five, including the one he was holding were completely in tact. The other two hung limp, one blackened and the other rusted. Wondering how they were made, he followed the closest one, which led to a rather large snake that was on the ground near the man. A closer look revealed that the snake possessed a part of the chained man’s soul, which explained how such a weak man could bind one like Ulquiorra to himself. Though his soul was in multiple places, he could still access all of his spiritual energy.

Not that even that was very noteworthy, however, the green-eyed arrancar realized, as he could easily snap this chain and would. He began to gather energy to do just that, when he took a fraction of a moment to think of the multiple possibilities that this technique might have, and reconsidered, deciding to take the man and his soul pieces back to be studied, though his body could be left here. Making his choice, he began to walk sedately towards the man, not expecting any resistance.

Obviously getting the wrong idea, Voldemort smirked evilly, “Finally recognized which side you belonged on, did you? Well, since we are connected, I suppose I could find a place for you.” His sadistic tone made his followers murmur happily as well.

When Harry didn’t respond after appearing, Dumbledore had feared that the boy may have lost his memory. When he went to walk away, the old man had feared he was a coward. When he had turned at the other white-clad man’s words, hope had been restored. But, now that he was walking toward Voldemort in such a calm manner, not even refuting the impossible idea of him switching sides, the headmaster feared their savior was now a traitor.

So it came to a surprise to all but Grimmjow that, as soon as he had reached the Dark Lord, whose hand was extended in ‘friendship’, that the emotionless man’s hand shot right by the offering and straight through the other’s collarbone, meeting what seemed to be no resistance. Voldemort coughed up blood, completely surprised at the emotionless man’s action and abilities while being rendered unable to speak, and simply fell once the other’s hand was removed, leaving a perfectly round hole in the center of the wizard’s chest in its wake.

He tried to continue what he’d planned, but was interrupted by curses and hexes flying at him from the dead man’s followers. Blocking them easily, he was unimpressed with this display of power, but it hindered him, unable to complete his task as he redirected or absorbed the spells. Ulquiorra looked back to where the other Espada was sitting, finding him scanning the crowd of black for something, and flared a small amount of his energy to get the other’s attention. Once he had it, he said in a normal voice, just one phrase.

“Take care of the trash.”

A maniacal and more than slightly insane grin spread across the other’s face, excited that he would now be able to hunt his prey once more, having only been holding back so as to not try the other’s patience any more than he had already, and he jumped down from his perch, scaring all those who were watching with his expression and the large whole that clearly went right through his stomach. “I hope you’re ready, you cowardly strawberry!” he called out loudly over the crowds of attackers, “’Cause I’m coming for your puny-ass!

Not even bothering to block any of the lights coming for him, none of them moving at any noteworthy speed, and simply exploiting the shocked looks that came from the lack of visible harm or death when he was hit, Grimmjow held out his left hand in a claw like position where it charged red energy near the center of his palm. “Cero!

Ichigo was very lucky that he had just gotten his full range of movement back, the spell being fairly weak and no one thinking to reapply it in the events following, and just managed to shunpo out of the red light and into a space on the other side of the Dark Lord’s underlings. There, Grimmjow spotted him and, after somehow widening his already large grin, proceeded to plow through the ‘trash’ in order to continue fighting with his original opponent.

Viewing this all stoically, the fourth Espada noted the shinigami’s presence and then turned back to his project, ignoring the now fleeing, masked men that were rushing by and trying to regroup out of the way of the others’ sword fight, which had just started up again. Charging his energy back into the Chain, he gave the side that was connected to his clothing a sharp tug, ripping out a patch of his cloak on both sides of his hole, which went through his collarbone, and giving those behind of him an extra spot to view the huge battle now occurring before them through, much to their grotesque fascination.

He used the chain he had just disconnected as a conductor, bringing in the other four soul pieces of the dead man before him with simply his energy alone, before reaching down and, hand glowing green, pulling out the plus, which looked vaguely closer to a menos he noted, of the man he had just killed and tying them all together with the length of chain that had once connected him to them. He had almost finished when he felt a cero headed in his direction.

While those still bound behind him gasped in horror, knowing that only destruction could come from that red beam, he simply raised a hand, not even looking at the on coming danger, and deflected it before finishing up with the unconscious spirit in his other hand.

Being free to go and having completed his self appointed task for Aizen, he looked around himself to make sure he hadn’t missed something. Eyes slipping over the defeated crowd that was trying to get his attention, deeming them too weak to even kill in his mind, he spotted the last of the masked, black cloaked faction, who looked like they were preparing a ritual that looked similar to those of the Quincy, their group forming a lined pentagon as they chanted as one. Not feeling the need to wait for them to finish summoning a powerful bowman, or something similar, Ulquiorra held up the hand which still held their late-master’s Chain, the other stuffed comfortably in his pocket, and he pointed one finger at them.

Those of Hogwarts and the light side thought that their savior meant to warn them of the danger and attempted to free themselves quickly, only to stop as a glowing green light was shed across the field. Looking up, they saw a ball of green light forming at the end of ‘Harry’s finger. It was only there for a moment before he spoke.


The softly spoken attack wiped out the last of the Death Eaters, stopping their unknown, protective séance before it could finish. The green eyed man turned, as apathetic as ever, toward the two fighting swordsmen. Not even stating what he wished them to do, knowing that they wouldn’t listen or obey anyway, he simply opened a door to Hueco Mundo where he saw they would be fighting their way towards next. After they had brawled their way though, he calmly walked over and through it as well, dragging the chained man behind him as he did. Already preparing to remove is left eye for Aizen, Ulquiorra began to organize his memories even as he shut the portal behind him.

The British wizarding world was left in shock…

For about twenty seconds, before the British version of Soul Society reached them and replaced their memories. Harry Potter had saved them from beyond the grave, they believed, but none of them were conscious to see it, save those who were now dead as well.

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