Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate. I don't own Harry Potter. I don't have any money. Please leave me alone.

Author's note: HaHaHa! Because I don't have enough half finished stories up there already! I haven't seen a SG1 H.P. crossover yet (though I'm sure there are some out there) I thought I'd give it a try. Let me know what you think. Reviews rock. Thanks!

Crumpets Aren't My Style

By Marz

In Which the United State's Air Force Gets Involved

            He picked up another souvenir flag, and checked the small print on the little wooden stick that held it aloft. Made in Taiwan was stamped neatly on the side. He snorted and set it back down. So far he didn't think much of London. It seemed like just another version of New York or L.A. or Moscow. Of course with all the places he'd been to, it took more to impress him. Not that he begrudged the afternoon he'd spent wandering around there. He was supposed to be "taking it easy" on this mission, and now he was.

            General Jack O'Neil had told his aid he'd had a bad reaction to the blood pudding at lunch, (and really, how could you not?), and would be unable to attend another horrible evening of picking out the proper fork and listening to people announce long honorifics and give dull speeches. It wasn't like the queen was coming or anything. After that it wasn't hard climb out his window and then scale the embassy fence. If he had to be away from the mountain, he had better things to do with his time, like finding a properly tacky gift for Teal'c. He spotted a store across the street that held some promises, and as the light changed in his favor he began to cross. Of course things had to turn strange at some point, he was just hoping to have a bit more free time before they did.

            A man appeared with a small pop on the other side of the street. O'Neil might have been able to dismiss it as poorly timed blinking, except that the man was dressed in a long black cloak and had an intricately carved wooden staff in his hand. O'Neil didn't realize he'd stopped walking until the car horn resounded in his ears. He looked over his shoulder and saw the BMW bearing down on him.

Absent Minded American General Crushed By Car While Gawking At Alien.

Though the thought was completely useless, it was all that went through his head as he started to move out of the way, knowing he wouldn't be fast enough. Unexpectedly, he received a bit of help.

            There was a sudden impact at the small of his back and then he was rolling across the ground. Disoriented, he put his hands to his head and sat up. The BMW was turning the corner, and apparently hadn't slowed down in the slightest. He squinted, catching the plate number, and then looked around. A few people on the sidewalk had stopped to gawk at his near death experience, and the teenage boy who'd pushed him to safety was crawling to his feet by the curb.

            The kid wore a tee shirt at least six sizes to big for him, and had scraped up his elbows pretty badly. He had a pale, almost gaunt face that looked even paler compared to black birds nest of hair on top of his head. He was blinking owlishly, and O'Neil saw a pair of cracked glasses a few feet away. He retrieved them and walked back to the kid. 

            The kid was looking at him with almost inhumanly green eyes. Or maybe I'm just getting loopy and seeing aliens everywhere. He looked around for the weird guy in the robes but didn't see him.

            "Are you alright, Sir?" the kid asked, accepting the glasses and forlornly inspecting the cracked lens.

            "Oh, me? I'm great. You're sort of a mess though," O'Neil added.

            "Er…well that's good," the kid said, and then turned and jogged up the street.

            "Hang on!" O'Neil said, trying to catch up.

            He had to at least pay for new glasses. The kid out distanced him easily though, slipping through the crowd, while O'Neil was forced to shove his way past a mass of grumpy British citizens that seemed to materialize out of thin air. At the end of the block he caught sight of the kid, who seemed to be in a big hurry to disappear.

            "THANKS!" O'Neil shouted at the top of his not inconsiderable lungs.

            The people around him paused to look offended, but the kid turned, gave a sort of shy wave, and then vanished into the crowd again. 

            Night finally fell and O'Neil thought it was probably time to return to the embassy, as his aid had probably noticed his absence, and was most likely in a state of complete panic. Of course that required him to find the embassy again, which was starting to become a problem. O'Neil had an uncanny sense of direction, but for some reason he could not seem to find his way out of this particular neighborhood. He knew he'd passed the same lamp post six times, because he'd taken to marking it with a pen, each go-around. He was at that low point where he was willing to ask a local for directions, but the streets seemed completely abandoned. He even resorted to calling the embassy, but his cell phone failed to make the connection.

            He came to the mouth of an alley, and a strong instinct to hide over took him. He hadn't made it this close to sixty by ignoring his instincts, so he crouched in a stairwell and watched. His hand went to the holster in his left armpit. The policies were pretty clear. He wasn't supposed to be carrying his 9mm around, as guns were illegal in the U.K., but he couldn't go completely unarmed, as quite a few people had the unpleasant habit of trying to assassinate him. And since he was a General, it was within his power to requisition certain other defensive weapons for the duration of his trip to England. Using the zat was a last resort of course.

            Two loud cracking sounds split the air, and suddenly there were two men standing at the end of the alley. They walked up the cobble street, but did not see him in his hiding spot. The men wore black hooded cloaks, and white skull like masks hid their faces. It wasn't the M.O. of any System Lord he knew about, but something was definitely not human about those two. They turned the corner and O'Neil slipped after them.

            Distantly he heard the echoes of an explosion, and a faint cry of pain. The men in front of him broke into a run and pulled some kind of weapon from their sleeves. They looked like sticks, but from the way the men carried them, O'Neil knew he should not end up on the wrong end of one. The men came to the end of another block, and two others in black robes and skull masks came out of the shadows to meet them. O'Neil ducked behind an abandon car and strained his ears to listen.

            "…brat's around here somewhere. I hit him at least twice," said a gravely male voice.

            "With what? If you'd just stunned him like you were ordered…"

            "The Master said we could have a bit of fun with him…"

            "After he's capture you dolt! If that boy gets away it'll be our corpses he feeds to the snake!"

            "Don't get your knickers in a twist! I hit him in the leg, and he was bleeding like a stuck pig. He's just hiding around here somewhere. The charms'll keep him in the neighborhood. All we have to do is find him."

            "You'd best find him now then. The Master is not patient."

            With that the group split up. O'Neil grumbled to himself, and slipped further into the shadows. He definitely had to find that kid first.

            It took him all of twenty minutes. Whoever hired this goon squad had some pretty low standards. He found the trail of blood spatter right away, and even at night it wasn't hard to follow. He tracked it to another alley, but ducked into a deeply shadowed doorway as a clatter came from up ahead. The lid of a dumpster was slowly rising a few yards away. Apparently its occupant thought the coast was clear because, he rolled out over the edge and fell sprawling on the cobble street below. O'Neil got a strange sense of too much coincidence as he recognized the kid.

            The overlarge tee-shirt was now stained with grime and blood and one of his legs dragged uselessly as he hauled himself to his feet, but it was the same kid. As the boy staggered up the alley O'Neil slipped up behind him. He clamped one hand over the kid's mouth and caught him around the waist with the other, dragging him back into the shadows. The kid kicked with his working leg and tried to pull away, but it didn't take much to restrain him.

            "Calm down, I'm not gonna' hurt you alright?" O'Neil hissed in the kid's ear.   

            The kid stopped fighting, but as O'Neil turned the kid around, he looked out of his mind with terror.

            "They're going to kill you," the kid whispered. "You have to hide! They're only after me! I'll lead them away."

            "We'll put that in the plan B pile how about?" O'Neil said, shaking his head.

            Up close he could see the boy's wounds with unpleasant clarity. Blood was oozing from the kid's shoulder, lower back, stomach, and right leg. Most appeared to be burns from energy weapons but there were a few cuts that must have come from a blade. As he didn't have a med-kit with him, O'Neil had to settle with stuffing the quietly protesting teenager into his much prized leather jacket. He tried his cell phone one last time, but as there was still no signal.

            O'Neil used his left arm to support the boy's weight, leaving his right hand free to aim the zat. He glanced up at the sky overhead, and fortunately the infamous London fog had taken the night off. He found the North Star and got oriented. He didn't bother trying to navigate toward the embassy. North and away from the hostiles was good enough.

            "Please don't do this," the kid gasped. Even with O'Neil's help walking was a struggle. "You don't know what you're up against. They'll kill you. Please just leave! I can't have anyone else die because of me."

            O'Neil clamped his hand over the kid's mouth again. He could hear foot steps. He settled the kid against the wall and crouched at the corner of the alley, zat leveled. Two of the men in black robes and white masks walked past. One of them looked towards O'Neil, and was immediately hit with a pulse of indigo light. His arms twitched and he fell against his companion, who was hit in the next instant. O'Neil peeked into the street, but no one else was coming. He grabbed the men by their robes and dragged them out of sight. A quick search of their pockets turned up nothing immediately useful, but the kid crawled over and picked up the stick weapons.

            The boy held up one in his right hand and waved it, muttering something in Latin. O'Neil wasn't terribly surprised when nothing happened. The boy picked up the second stick and repeated the phrase. A bright red spark shot from the end of the stick and hit the wall of the alley, scorching it. The boy snapped the first stick in half and threw it down on the unconscious man he'd taken it off of, with a very satisfied air.

            "Why didn't you say you were a wizard?" the kid asked, as O'Neil pulled him to his feet once again.

            O'Neil didn't know quite how to respond to the question so he just shrugged. The kid pointed at the zat.

            "How come you're using that instead of a wand?"

            "Better sound effects?" O'Neil responded.

The kid sure didn't act like any alien species he'd run into before, though thinking alien tech was magic was common enough. The kid also seemed very English, which either meant another silent invasion had slipped the military's notice, or there was a group of locals who'd figured out some remnant technology. O'Neil sighed and checked the street, before pulling him quickly along. He got the feeling he was being watched, but as he was unable to do anything about it, he pretended he didn't notice. They came across a car a few blocks further on, and O'Neil broke in the back window as quietly as possible. He opened the door and leaned under the dash board, trying to find the right wires in the dim light. The feeling of being watched came back, more strongly then ever. He pulled his zat and looked around.

The kid was leaning back against the car, the stick in his hand pointed at a sewer grate across the street. He was about to ask the kid what he saw when an impossibly large snake popped out of the sewer grate as if it had been fired from a canon.

"Reducto!" the kid shouted and a huge red spark shot from the end of the stick.

The snake pulled back to avoid the light, changing direction and heading for O'Neil. A shot from the zat hit it square in the head, but it kept coming. Three more bull's eyes only slowed it down. It reared up and its jaw dropped open. O'Neil was almost certain a snake that big couldn't be venomous, but as the fangs came at his throat, he felt the tinniest bit of doubt.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Suddenly the snake was no longer bearing down on him, and instead was hovering fifty feet in the air, looking very unhappy.

"Nice," O'Neil said.

"Thanks," said the kid, whose arm was shaking more then a little. "Could you hurry up and start the car. This thing isn't getting any lighter."

O'Neil leaned back under the dash board and after a few minutes of cussing and mild electric shocks he heard the engine turn over with a loud groan. When it was chugging along consistently O'Neil pulled the kid in, and stomped on the gas. As they peeled away from the curb the snake fell from the sky. It hit the pavement and though it seemed a bit stunned it was slithering after them in the next second.

As they turned the corner another black robed figure appeared before the car. O'Neil leaned out the window and took a few shots with the zat, but the shots went wide, as he was trying not to crash into a phone pole and aim simultaneously. Fortunately the kid was keeping his end covered. As the robed man avoided one of O'Neil's shots, he stepped right into the kid's line of fire. A blue light struck him and sent him sailing into the pavement.

O'Neil checked the rearview. The snake was falling even further behind, and things were starting to look up. He took a left.

"What the hell?"

His mouth dropped open as he recognized the street. There was the broken glass from their stolen car, and the open sewer grate where the snake had come out. He'd taken one left and one right turn. It wasn't possible for them to be on this street again. He was still struggling with the apparent warp in the space/time continuum when the car slammed into something. The steering wheel struck him in the face and for a moment he saw stars.

"Wake up! Get up!" The kid's panicked voice hissed in his ear.

O'Neil groaned and blinked. The kid had been smart enough to put on a seat belt, so the crash hadn't left him any worse off. O'Neil felt blood running down his face, and was fairly certain he'd just broken his nose. He shook his head clear and felt the floor of the car for the zat. He found it and climbed out. The kid crawled out after him. What ever the car had hit wasn't there any more. O'Neil scanned the street and saw three black robed figures sauntering towards them. He checked the charge on the zat. It was good for ten more shots at least. He dropped to one knee and fired three times.

Two of the black robes fell, twitching in a haze of indigo light. The third vanished from the path of the shot and reappeared a few feet to O'Neil's right. O'Neil rolled just in time to avoid a blast of red light that took the hood off the car and started the engine on fire.

"Move kid!" O'Neil shouted, as he scrambled away from another blast of red light and fired some indigo right back.

The kid shouted something that may have been "help" but it was cut off half way. O'Neil spared him a glance as he dodged and fired again. The snake had caught up with them. The kid was wrapped in thick coils of scaly flesh. His mouth hung open, trying in vain to pull air into his crushed lungs. O'Neil was about to take a shot at the snake.


The buildings around them rattled as the totaled car's gas tank exploded. For a moment O'Neil's feet couldn't find the ground, and then he was tumbling across the pavement. He moved his fingers and realized the zat was gone from his hand. A shadow came between him and the flaming car.

"Stupefy!" called a gloating voice.

The world disappeared in a flash of red.