The crossover is with the webcomic Looking for Group. Specifically Richard coming to Hogwarts. What can I say, I was...inspired.

It was a supposed to be a joke, but it had more far reaching consequences than the child who started it all would have considered.

As it was, everyone simply chalked it up to him living up to a legacy he had no actual interest in outside of a few small pranks. After all, it was hard to top what he actually did to the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts...even if it did accidentally break the weird curse on the post.

He had mostly written that letter as a joke request. He didn't actually expect the one who read it to show up!

It all started like this...

Harry Potter was bored, and when bored he generally snuck to the library to read his favorite webseries of all time.

Unfortunately the internet was down so he couldn't even do that much.

Which lead to this.

He was sitting on one of the unbroken swings, when he remembered an odd comment Percy made about the DADA teachers. How every year they had a replacement, either by resignation, curse, or in the case of Quirrell.

Which made it sound like there was some sort of curse on the spot, leading to increasingly inept teachers.

After learning the same madman who killed his parents was still very much alive (though not literally speaking as he was little more than a wraith at this point) Harry very much wanted to live. And if what Percy said was true, then the odds of him getting a decent teacher that would actually do their job well enough to insure his survival were slim to none.

Having already picked the lock Vernon had insisted on putting on Hedwig's cage, he now had a reliable method of communicating.

Considering he was bored, and wanted a decent teacher for once, Harry decided to write a letter. As a lark, mind you since he didn't think the series was real.

If it was, he was so getting the man's autograph and begging for an apprenticeship.

So he took out a quill and began to write.

'Dear Richard (Chief warlock of the Brothers of Darkness, Lord of the Thirteen Hells, Master of the Bones, Emperor of the Black, Lord of the undead and mayor of a delightful village on the coast),

I have heard that you are an expert in dark magic, specifically the using of it and learning how to deal with it (if only by association of being in your presence and learning the countercurses as a consequence). I am a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. For the past several years the post of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has been vacant, and filled only with incompetent morons who wouldn't look out of place in a goody-two-shoes band of heroes.

Our headmaster, for instance, firmly believes the last idiot who decided to go on a killing spree was taken out by, of all things, a mother's LOVE.

Seeing as how I have firm suspicions said idiot is still alive, albeit in wraith form, I would like to have assurances that I could take him out without having to rely on something as ridiculous as the power of love. Preferably through copious use of fire or other spells that cause a lot of collateral damage. I have it on good authority that their preferred costume to cause fear is highly flammable, and I think it would be more entertaining to see such idiots run around screaming while their overly long robes were on fire, seeing as how none of these fools know the simple concept of stop, drop, and roll.

From one of your biggest fans,

Harry Potter.

P.S., if you do get this letter, could I trouble you for an autograph? The shear amount of damage you cause simply by existing is an inspiration."

Harry handed the letter to Hedwig, making sure that the name was firmly written on the outside. The owl, much to his eternal shock, took the letter and flew off with it.

Harry couldn't help the shiver that went down his spine. Whether it was anticipation or dread, he didn't know. Either way, at least he had some idea of what was coming.

When Harry finally made his way to Hogwarts (after missing the train and having to fly a car to the school) he was exhausted. But not so much that he didn't immediately recognize one of the new faces at the staff table.

The second he saw that trademarked cowl with red lining and the pale white skin with green lightning bolts along the left eye, he barely restrained himself from going up to the staff table and asking for an autograph.

Richard was real! And he had come to Hogwarts!

"What's got you in such a good mood?"

"A decent teacher for the Defense post, for one," said Harry to his 'friend'.

He could barely keep the glee of having his favorite character of all time being at the school.

"Who was that boy? The black haired one with the dopey looking red head next to him?" asked Richard to Snape. The two had come to an agreement.

Snape would ignore any punishments Richard dealt out to his snakes and in exchange the warlock wouldn't blow up his personal cauldrons from the other side of the castle again. Having had that happen to him four times since the man was hired, Snape had no interest in pissing off the warlock. That being said, Richard had promised not to set him on fire so long as he didn't clue in the headmaster as to the true nature of the new DADA teacher.

Specifically that he was an undead psychopath who like to set people on fire because it gave him power and because he thought it funny. It was hard to argue with a being that was apparently impossible to kill that had a ball of eldritch fire to your face. So long as he kept the students more or less intact and able to speak coherently, it wasn't his problem if he caused untold mental trauma.

Though if he ever found out who brought the undead pest to the school, he would hang them by their lower intestines and make them wish it had been Voldemort who caught them.

For the first DADA lesson of the year for the second-year Gryffindors, Harry was unusually giddy. Hermione, for all her love of books, had apparently never read the webcomic "Looking for Group" or any of it's offshoots. As such she didn't recognize their new teacher on sight, or understand the headaches he was about to cause her.

"Before we begin, would anyone like to volunteer to be my new bitch...I mean aide? Be warned it would involve being personally part of any demonstrations and possibly grading homework," said Richard. He neglected to mention it would be an automatic "A" for anyone suicidal enough to volunteer.

Harry's hand, much to the shock of his friends, beat Hermione's by several seconds.

"Right, scar-boy, you're now my new personal bitch. I mean aide. You get an automatic passing grade so long as you live,"said Richard bored.

Harry couldn't resist what he said next.

"For Pony, sir."

Richard's nonexistent eyebrows shot up, apparently having identified the sender of that curious letter and surprisingly irate owl.

"Right you are boy. Now, has anyone actually heard of me?"

To his dismay, the only one who raised their hand was the same boy who volunteered as target practice for when he got bored of grading papers...and hauling his victims to the hospital wing.

That Snape fellow was quite firm. No lethal attacks and they had to be able to procreate and speak.

He never said a word about maiming, traumatizing or setting people on fire.

"Pity. I shall have to correct that. I am RICHARD! Chief warlock of the Brothers of Darkness, Lord of the Thirteen Hells, Master of the Bones, Emperor of the Black, Lord of the undead, and Mayor of a small village on the coast! Also your new Defense teacher, thanks to the efforts of one of your classmates, who wanted to remain anonymous until I get bored enough to watch your feeble attempts to make them pay for convincing me to come here,"said Richard.

The red haired idiot was the first to voice the very thing all the purebloods were thinking upon hearing that particular introduction.

"Oh bloody hell. You're not that warlock are you? The one that the Ministries world over keeps trying to get rid of?" he asked.

Everyone but Harry whipped around to look at Ron, then at Richard with trepidation. Draco Malfoy in particular looked horrified.

Richard looked like he was mock thinking.

"How to respond to that. I know!"

"HOLY SHIT!" yelped Ron as he narrowly dodged a fireball to the desk he was using. Harry's grin didn't abate once.

"Any other stupid questions?"

"Just one sir. Do we really have to do written work when you could just watch our feeble attempts to duplicate your own spells?" asked Harry, raising his hand.

Everyone looked at Harry.

"Unfortunately your headmaster insisted I make you do some written work, no matter how amusing such attempts will likely be. That being said, I will give you all the option of being target practice for the day in lieu of actually writing anything, if you forget to do it," said Richard.

Ron perked up at that, as did all the other students who hated doing homework.

"In any case I want you all to do two feet of parchment on..."

At least class wasn't going to be boring with Richard around.

Harry stayed back long enough to get Richard's autograph on his copy of the printed version for the comic 'Looking for Group'.

Snape had anticipated this. He wondered when someone would finally clue the headmaster in to the fact he had just hired an undead pest who found mass-murder hilarious.

As it turned out, it was Granger who told McGonagall who the new teacher was. The fact she chose to send her precious scotch halfway across the room was just a testament to how well known Richard actually was.

Or perhaps the word was infamous.

Either way, they were now stuck with him.

Apparently the only person suicidal enough to apply was an idiot known as Lockhart, and no matter how irritating Richard was, he would honestly rather have to deal with an undead menace who had a love of fire and killing than that glory hound.

Snape had only met the man once, but that was one time too many. Besides, anyone stupid enough to hit on Narcissa Malfoy in front of Lucius and then whine about being hit with a stinging hex wasn't worth the effort of keeping around.

Though Snape did have to wonder what the hell Dumbledore had been smoking to think he could reform Richard of all things.

Defense was the new most dreaded (or favorite) class in the school.

It was dreaded by the pure blood idiots who kept forgetting their homework and thus ended up as target practice for Richard in order to make up the grade. He also had the random habit of casting fireballs at anyone who annoyed him too much.

However it was also the favorite class of people like Ron, who figured dodging elemental spells was infinitely better than having to write anything. As Harry pointed out, if he could dodge Richard's spells then getting on the Quidditch team and avoiding Bludgers should be cakewalk. Besides it meant less thinking on Ron's part.

Harry of course became an even more familiar face at the Hospital wing as he levitated Richard's newest target practice to the irate Mediwitch. He was so used to dodging things coming at him (from Dudley's fist to bludgers trying to cave his head in) that at this point it was more of an ingrained reflex whenever Richard shot something at him. The fact he didn't take it personal made him Richard's favorite student out of the entire school.

Though the level of shrieking Hermione let off when Harry sent a cutting curse at the warlock and decapitated him...and then Richard spoke anyway was something they could both do without. Needless to say he gave quite a few of the students near heart attacks with that one.

The twins found it hilarious, naturally.

When asked by his friends (and a concerned McGonagall when Hermione told her about it) why he didn't seem to care that Richard had a habit of lobbing fire at him at random, Harry would shrug and say "I've gotten used to being around things that want to hurt, maim, or otherwise kill me. At least with Professor Richard I know it's not personal."

At this point the only thing keeping Richard from permanently traumatizing the rest of the students was Harry being a willing victim. As such, Snape had dropped deducting nearly as many points from the second years. He evidently felt being Richard's new 'aide' as punishment enough.