Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Children of the Moon	By : aidoneuskiss Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Slash - Male/Male Views: 11161 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or Harry Potter they and any similiarities are owned by their respective authors and I make not a cent off this fic

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
******

Man is the only animal that deals in that atrocity of atrocities, War. He is the only one that gathers his brethren about him and goes forth in cold blood and calm pulse to exterminate his kind. He is the only animal that for sordid wages will march out and help to slaughter strangers of his own species who have done him no harm and with whom he has no quarrel... And in the intervals between campaigns he washes the blood off his hands and works for "the universal brotherhood of man"- with his mouth. -Mark Twain

******

After exchanging hollow greetings with his future colleagues while the Great Hall filled with children, Trunks chose the most defensible position at the High Table and proceeded to regard his surroundings with a calculating eye. The ceiling was a flamboyant annoyance he could do without, the sparkling of his visible skin beneath the filtered moonlight garnering unwanted looks and whispers, which he decidedly ignored. His manicured fingers, fiddled idly with tableware as time dragged on, his mind offhandedly wondering whether or not the centuries old works of goblin craftsmanship were considered "stolen" among the clans.

If so, I'm going to systematically catalog every single suit of armor, displays of weaponry, tableware settings, and whatever else of goblin origin I can find hidden within these walls. After an audit of their overall worth, I'll "purchase" them from whichever clan they were made by and sit back to watch the fireworks when they are relocated by goblin magic into my storage vaults right under the Headmaster's nose. A concentrated blow to his pride, his infallibility within the eyes of the public, and none will be the wiser to the truth of it being a simple business transaction due to goblin discretion.

The bang of the golden doors brought Trunks out of his plotting and quickly redirected his attention to the entering single-file line of first years. Warmth shone in usually guarded blue eyes as they fell on a familiar black mop of saiyajin hair. Harry was by far the smallest in the line, as well as the very last as he seemed to want to put as much space as possible between himself and the other children yet not be completely obvious about it. Harry's robes, no doubt overlooked by the fellow first years due to nervous jitters, were certainly not disregarded by the students already at the tables.

Old Money. Was the whisper among the students with connections to the ton. As Trunks expected, Harry had gained status among the students of old families with his first impression, even if the boy himself was unaware of it.

A glance at the Headmaster had a smile on Trunks lips when he noted the furrow of the man's brow and his disappointed eyes. This was exactly what Trunks wanted and the Headmaster had placed Harry with the Dursleys in order to avoid. For the Headmaster and the Light, Harry Potter was, no doubt, supposed to be a Diamond in the Rough, a child raised as a muggleborn, who would be looked down upon by the purebloods of status due to his personal carriage and his choice of muggle-loving friends. His name would only give him more grief as he would be unaware of how to best wield the power it bore coupled with the title, The-Boy-Who-Lived.

He would be ostracized, shunned, taken advantage of and targeted. Then, the venerable grandfatherly Headmaster would step in, take the boy under his wing, protecting and shielding him from the Dark and in exchange Harry Potter would be his willing puppet. It was enough to make even a saiyajin lose his appetite.

When the sorting began, the simplicity of the process- sit on a stool, wear a hat, wait, be sorted and sit at your house table, had Trunks stomach roiling with unease. Despite his best efforts, the young professor had been unable to determine what the division of houses entailed. It was a closely guarded secret among the English and even their books like, Hogwarts:A History gave no details. Harry had not been prepared for what to expect and when scared green eyes met Trunks' blue before the Sorting Hat fell over them, Trunks knew there was going to be complications because of it. When Harry's tiny frame went ridged on the stool, small hands clenching the seat rim, his body shaking and fear scented the air, Trunks reacted with no thought as to what repercussions there might be.

Raising his ki, dinnerware shook and the candles flared to an inferno overhead as Trunks linked his awareness to that of his panicking charge. A third presence was probing the boy's mental shields seeking an entrance somewhere and Harry's entire being was frozen from the violation. Snarling, Trunks wrapped the invasive presence with his own, isolating it from Harry whose mental being took shelter behind Trunks' own. A threating squeeze, not unlike that of a snake constricting around it's prey, had the foreign entity focusing solely on the saiyajin prince.

You dare touch one that I call my own.

The mental broadcast was a tone Trunks seldom used. Cold, ruthless, every bit a heartless saiyajin warrior prince he was raised. In defense of his people, he would give no quarter, show no mercy. He would destroy this foreigner's mind scape there and now, reducing it's owner to a vegetative state.

Calm yourself young royal. I was simply attempting to accomplish the task for which the Founding Four created me. I am the Sorting Hat placed upon your young ward's head.

Despite his better judgment, Trunks hesitated, his curiosity piqued by this development and the reference to his status. He gave another warning squeeze to the Hat's presence.

Young royal?

Your presence, young one. Even with your mind guarded as it is, your presence, tone, reference to your companion as your own, it all screams nobility of the highest caliber. I apologize for the distress that I have caused your boy, however, in my defense, I must say most children are more receptive to me.

Harry is unique.

He is also MINE.

Neither of us take kindly to unprovoked attacks on his mind and/or person and you would do well to remember that. Now, if you wish to exist to sort another child, you will place him in the House that will see him as himself not the Boy-Who-Lived. The House that will help him because they care for him, not for what favors they may garner from him in the future because of their association. The House that will guard him most from the Headmaster's influence and stand behind him in all situations.

I cannot sort him if I do not see his mind.

You WILL sort him, sight unseen, to the prerequisites I have given or I WILL DESTROY YOU!!

And what of the child? Does he have any preference? No? Are you sure little one? Then, as you will it, young royal, so it shall be. May the powers see to it that his placement is for the best. Child, may you grow strong and your magic prosper in...

"HUFFLEPUFF!!"

The last word was shouted to the entire hall and the Hat's presence left so abruptly it was as though a switch had been turned off. For a moment, neither boy left the younger's mindscape, then Trunks withdrew his awareness with a single mental caress of his tail.

As Harry trotted off to the table of yellow and black, Trunks drew his power back, suppressing it once again and smirking at the reaction of the students. Other than the teachers, who were gaping at Trunks, having correctly pinpointed the source of the ambient magic, the student body believed Harry Potter to be the cause.

Another factor in his favor.

As the sorting continued Trunks pointedly ignored the inquisitive glances of his fellow professors and the Headmaster's Legimency prone gaze. Once the stool and the Hat were taken away, the Headmaster's greeting, a brilliant strategic move in Trunks' opinion, opened the meal.

He's conditioning them to underestimate him. Trunks mused as he piled his plate high with food, his appetite as strong as ever, despite the fact he'd only just eaten a few hours ago.If they believe him to be mad or senile, they'll consider him less of a threat. It's an understandable misconception, I mean, look at Kakarotto, his saving-people-thing and questionable IQ due to head trauma, even had father was fooled initially. Who would take someone who wore purple robes with moving gold stars and greeting words of, "Nitwit. Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" the least bit seriously, let alone as a threat.

By the time dessert disappeared the elder students were making under-the-table bets on just how much more the stranger at the head table could consume before he became full or sick. Silence descended as the Headmaster stood and raised his hands.

"Ahem- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few older students would do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madame Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out-of-bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."(1)

Trunks snorted at this final announcement.Why not just put up a sign: Sorcerer's Stone held beyond this point. All those that trespass will most likely be killed. Enter at your own risk. The look his exclamation garnered from the Headmaster was parried by the raise of a saiyajin eyebrow. The genial grandfather mask slid back into place before the old man turned back to the student body.

"Also, we have two new additions to the teaching staff. Your new Defense-Against-The-Dark-Arts teacher, a past and well-decorated student from our school, Professor Quirrel." Trunks eyes narrowed as he recognized the turbaned man to be the same double-kied individual from the Leaky Cauldron. The flash of red in the depths of the fellow professor's eyes when they met Trunks own, had his tail fur standing on end. Harry's presence, always in the back of his mind, flared in pain in reaction to the contact and Trunks barely smothered his growl.

Whatever this is, since it's hurting Harry, I've no doubt the Headmaster, if he's not holding the strings, is still somehow involved if not directly responsible. I've no proof but when I do he will pay with more than his life.

"And secondly, Mr. Trunks Vegeta, an early graduate of Durmstrang Academy, will be your new History of Magic professor. Despite his being the same age of many of you seventh years, I ask that you treat him with the same respect that you do your other instructors. Now, off to bed with you."

Though half of the announcement was lost in the cheering of the dismissal of the ghost Professor Binns, the older student body obediently began filing out of the Great Hall to their dormitories, while the first years were collected by their House prefects. When a wrinkled hand took a surprisingly strong hold of his shoulder, Trunks subtlety waved Harry off to bed as he attempted to linger behind in the Great Hall to wait for him.

"Yes Headmaster?"

"As it was the Board of Governors who hired you on Mr. Vegeta, I find myself at a loss as to what to do with you. You see, Hogwarts has always been run a certain way. It has always worked in the past as the people who have been hired on were carefully screened in order for it to continue to work in the future. You, however, slipped through the cracks Mr. Vegeta. And though, as applaudible your ability to see legal loopholes is, I believe it would be best to retire to my office and discuss how things are run here so that there is no conflict of interest between us."

Trunks stared at the old man blankly for a moment, allowing him to seethe while Trunks' scouter relayed the same conversation back to him but from the point-of-view of those outside the privacy bubble the Headmaster believed he had cast without anyones notice. What they heard, was a far cry from the underlaying threatening speech of "Do things my way and nobody gets hurt" that Trunks received.

To them, it was: "Professor Vegeta, a moment of your time if you would? I often find it relaxing to have a cup of tea before retiring for the night. As you are new, not only to our beloved school, but also to our country, I must insist that you join me so that I may get to know you better, my boy."

Trunks smirked inwardly before replying, "I'm actually more of a coffee man myself Headmaster, but a cup of tea does sound nice. Shall we?"

The flash of surprise in the old man's eye was a minute victory that Trunks savored while it lasted. Almost as soon as it appeared, however, it was gone and back was the grandfather routine. "We shall, my boy, we shall."

Falling into step with the living relic, Trunks readied himself for the battle to come in the confines of the man's base-of-operations. Bring it on, old man. Bring. It. On.

*****

TBC

*****

1. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.

Author's Note: A few things to notice. Trunks will always refer to Dumbledore as Headmaster, he wants to remind the old man that he is in fact human and his position is only a job which can be given and taken away. Also, Harry is quite dependent on Trunks, he's scared and in a whole new world but knows instinctively that Trunks truly does have his best interest at heart and that's why he doesn't contest the sorting criteria Trunks insisted upon.

The bond between them is complicated but simple at the same time. At the moment, it simply exists. The more time they spend together and the more they use and nurture it the more it will evolve and mature into something deeper. It's based on the connection that the saiyajins seem to have in the series (at least in the way I interpretted it). I mean, Vegeta broadcasts to Goku from beyond the grave when Frieza kills him. Goku does the same thing with Bardock when, as a baby, he sees the destruction of the planet Vegeta along with his father. Goku also reads Krillen's mind on Namek so there is something there.

My third reviewer, Sanchan_85, brought up a good question of Ollivander and my making him out to be so powerful but still falling under Dumbledores spells. Basically, my thoughts on the matter are that all people, even magical, have their strengths and weaknesses and Dumbledore's specialties are compulsions and manipulations. The wandmaker will make a reappearance though and maybe have some revenge. I hope this was a bit more detailed for you by the way and as for the Dursley's, there will be flashbacks. Thank you so much for your critique, please send more and hopefully enjoy my twisted imaginings.

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Children of the Moon