this is yet another of my three am ramblings... acctually this one was typed at ten am yesterday, before i took a four hour nap and then went to work... i hate insomnia, i really do...

but the good news is that it gave me something to do while i couldn't sleep and none of my other storys seemed to really have anything to say. i'm still working on some plot points that i wasn't happy with after i went back and reread. my buffy/harry crossover is giving me hives...

anyway, enjoy this, it's just meant to be fun, mostly canon considering i don't think i have the timeline anywhere near correct. Harry is early twentys and the sg-1 team is still major carter and frasiers still alive. anyway, have fun, i don't own Harry Potter or SG-1, though two of my siblings work at Starbucks. (and i didn't identify any of the spells being slung because i was just plain lazy)

Daniel sat by himself, just watching the young man through the interrogation room window. The young man, who sat calmly in the hard metal chair, his arms limp with his hands resting carelessly in his lap, just stared back as if he could see through the mirrored reflection. He didn't look much older than twenty; his dark hair had not yet left the messy stage that the current youth took for fashionable. His arms were skinny, but muscled in a way that suggested they were built up practically and not in a gym setting. His light gray t-shirt was a thin cut that floated on his thin frame, long skinny jeans ended in frayed cuffs, and his tennis shoes looked to have seen better days. He could be anyone's brother, son, friend, he could be anyone.

Daniel looked down at the box of the young man's possessions; they'd taken off him when he'd collapsed after the fight. The long wooden stick was curiously decorated, the thin strap that had held it to his thigh, under his jeans and accessible through a hole in the side, was custom made with a small set of initials embroidered in red on the clasp. The wallet held fifty-two dollars in American currency, thirty-six pounds, and an old photograph of the man with another man and a young woman smiling in between them. There was no other identification, and they'd already run his description, complete with the odd scar on his forehead, through their LEO software. No hits had popped due to him, but the battle Daniel witnessed, and then called in, spoke of previous experience in the dark and dirty skill of urban warfare.

Daniel just wanted a cup of coffee, and it seemed like that was all the man in the cell had wanted as well. Until a group of six individuals wearing long black robes and white skull masks burst into the local Starbucks and started screaming in Latin. The young man had immediately ducked, dragging Daniel down with him, as lights flew from the sticks in their hands and collided right were they'd been standing.

"Keep low to the ground, and if you get the chance, get the bloody hell out of here!" he'd hissed in a thick British accent, and shoved Daniel toward the wall, standing in one fluid movement, drawing his stick from the hole in his jeans. Seconds later the battle was engaged, and all Daniel could do was watch as the young man ducked under lighting bolts, jumped over them, and ended up clobbering the others with his fist more often than cursing back in Latin- or just chucking display mugs like they were in a Three Stooges marathon. When an electric blue light hit his left knee, he'd sworn up a storm and hopped on his right leg, swinging the incapacitated limb up in an immediate strike, round housed toward a masked head twisting his upper body down to give his foot more height. It was a move that would have done many a karate instructor proud.

Daniel could barely remember getting his cell phone out of his pocket and pressing in the emergency code, but at the moment, as the man (just barely out of boy-hood) shouted and a red light shot from his stick. Daniel noticed that while two of the hooded figures quickly got out of the way of that attack, it hit another who hadn't been paying close enough attention. That attacker went down, instantly folded into a heap of black cloth, as one of the others hit the defender with a yellow light on his left shoulder.

"Fuck!" he'd sworn, and glared at the giggling figure, "bitch," he spat out as the blood started to drip down his hand and onto the floor. Daniel had no idea what could have done that, his jacket was still in one piece. Obviously out numbered and with the exit blocked Daniel couldn't get himself out, he needed to help the guy, even through the objections in his own mind.

"Hey!" he stood up, his hands above his head in surrender. The three remaining combatants just stared at him, as if he were completely nuts.

"Are you completely insane?" The young man hissed, but Daniel noticed his injured hand going for a pocket in his jean jacket, taking advantage of the distraction.

"I just want to know what is going on," Daniel shrugged. "Is that too much to ask?"

"Stupid muggle," the woman's voice was icy with scorn.

"Shut it Bellatrix, before I get pissed," His voice was sharp with pain, but Daniel couldn't tell if it was new or remembered pain.

"Just remember, you have to want them to feel pain," Bellatrix, as Daniel now knew her, shouted triumphantly in Latin, her wand pointed toward Daniel. But that was the last he'd seen, as the man threw a vial to the floor and Daniel ducked the light instinctively. It hit five inches above his head as the darkness from the vial grew exponentially in each second. He heard three sharp noises, like party favors, before the sharp cursing of the young mans voice reached his ears.

"Stupid god-damn son of a bi-" Daniel knew that tone well. He was trying to stop the bleeding and having a wonderful time of it. Daniel followed the voice through the darkness and stopped when his hand hit a warm arm, muscles clenched in pain.

"Let me help," Daniel grabbed the arm and felt the blood run down his hand, smearing under his palm.

"Listen, I really don't need your help, I've been doing this for a while now and I would really appreciate it if you left me alone." Daniel ignored the dry tone and grabbed for some of the napkins that had fallen to the floor.

"Stop being such an idiot, you need to stop the bleeding," he applied pressure to the sharp slash on his shoulder and noticed that the darkness was starting to lift, and he could now hear the tinned in music from the coffee house speakers, as well as the sirens coming from right outside the door.

"Is anyone else bleeding?" Daniel could almost see the strangers face now, as he asked the question, and could just make out the green of his eyes as he shook his head.

"No, there were no other customers and I saw the barista's duck under the counter as the first shots flew." He seemed to relax then, and let Daniel replace the napkins as the blood soaked through.

"I can't believe I dropped my wand," he muttered as Daniel noticed the stick near his knee.

"Is this it?" he asked, looking down at it.

The man let out a triumphant, "A-ha! Moody would have my ass if I lost it." He grabbed it up and pushed Daniel away as he got to his feet. Well, his foot, his left knee still locked awkwardly. But as Daniel watched he waved his wand, muttering, and his leg straightened, then he repeated it with his shoulder, carefully following the slice with the light on its tip. The skin seemed to melt back into an angry red seam as he waved the end and with a flick of his wrist the stain of blood all over the floor and leading up his arm disappeared. If Daniel hadn't been clutching blood stained napkins he'd have no idea that he'd just been seriously injured.

"You know, all I wanted was a freak'n cup of coffee, but no…" he muttered as he leaned over to grab his jacket, "They've got to follow me half way across the world and destroy property in a country that doesn't have the slightest idea how stupid they all are. You know, if we had been in England an army of Aurors would have shown up within two seconds and a bloody good battle would have been had by all… now," he limped up to the counter, still having a bit of trouble with his unlocked knee, and leaned over to shout into the back room where the barista's were cowering. "CAN I GET SOME BLOODY COFFEE PLEASE?"

Daniel barely caught him before he passed out, the darkness fully dispelled, and an army of local law enforcement and air force officers stormed into the destroyed Starbucks weapons drawn and ready to fire.

So now, here he was, in the bowels of Cheyenne Mountain; waiting for permission to go in and talk to the newly woken up "guest". He'd told the local guys that there had been a scuffle with some odd laser guns, luckily the employees had ducked before the "hero" started shooting his stick off and had only seen the lights clearly from the attackers. Though what he'd told Jack had been the complete unvarnished truth, and that lead them to confiscate the unconscious man and all his possessions. He'd woken up in the elevator, and tried his hardest to twist out of Teal'c's grasp, but only succeeded in pulling his shoulder nearly out of his socket. When he realized he wasn't going to get anywhere by force he'd looked over at Daniel, and in a pleasant tone of voice, asked what was going on and where he was and who was the great big ape holding him hostage?

Daniel had answered to the best of his ability.

"You passed out and needed medical attention, we happen to be in a facility that has a med center that is fully equipped, and the man making sure you don't injure yourself is named Murray."

"My left nut," he scoffed. "If that is on your birth certificate, "Murray", then my mother is alive and well." He looked up at the towering black man and then glared back at Daniel. "And don't you think I'll be cooperative with your healers. I hate hospital wings and I feel fine." He shrugged.

"I would feel better if you'd let Dr Frasier check you out," Daniel replied evenly. "You saved my life; I would like to return a bit of the favor by making sure you won't pass out again."

"I was just exhausted mate, it happens, that's why I wanted the coffee."

He'd settled down on the cot as soon as Frasier gave him that look. It seemed he'd been trained to pay attention to that, Don't-Mess-With-ME, look. She'd stuck a thermometer in his mouth, shined the penlight of doom in his eyes, and somehow got his jacket and shirt off before he'd had a chance to blink the lights from his eyes. Daniel knew he'd been staring at that point, but he couldn't imagine how it was that someone so young had so many interesting scars. Not only did he have an odd lightning bolt on his forehead, but his right shoulder blade had a series of claw marks, as if a small animal had gripped and slipped a couple of times, which also explained the single claw mark on the front of the shoulder. Right above his right hip bone was a nasty slash that Daniel could readily identify as a sword swipe; a long thin scar ran up one arm while the other looked to have a snake bite on its pec.

"Ouch," Daniel winced.

"Huh?" he looked down at his chest and, remarkably, blushed. "Gosh it's cold in here."

"Yeah, yeah," Frasier took the thermometer out of his mouth and made a notation on her note pad, then prodded the angry red mark on his shoulder carefully. The young man hissed, and angled away. "That hurt?"

"A bit sensitive," he shrugged, earning another wince for his thoughtlessness. "But it should be healed up completely in a few hours, really."

"You'll have to tell me how you do that," Frasier quirked an eyebrow.

"I really don't," he flirted back, a mischievous grin wide on his face, which really made Daniel pause. He looked like a school boy who had just gotten away with a devious prank.

"Well, you seem to be fine," Frasier let him jump off the cot and handed him back his t-shirt.

"Really?" Daniel asked, amazed. Frasier never let him go that easily.

"He's not bleeding out of his ears Daniel," she scolded. "When I got the call I assumed he was half dead. He'll be fine."

"Remind me to introduce you to Madame Pomfrey, she could do with a bit of your attitude."

"I've met Poppy, and yes, she needs to get that stick from her ass." She agreed, to the young mans amusement.

"So, now that I've been checked out by a professional, can I go now?"

"So, Daniel, you always bring me the best surprises," Jack almost sprang into the room, the door flung unceremoniously away from the opening. General Hammond followed at a more sedate pace and refrained from rolling his eyes at his enthusiastic second in command. Having almost his entire head covered in short silver hairs had done nothing to restrain Jacks exuberance. If Daniel had been injured or if anyone else had been hurt during the fray, it would have been a serious Jack that greeted him, one that would have spoken in an icy clip that could have frozen water in its glass.

"Have we figured out anything? Is he NID? Alien?" Daniel asked, hoping that some new information had popped up in the last half hour he'd been watching the man.

"Nope, none at all, and he hasn't moved from that spot has he?" Hammond walked to the glass and looked down. Then took a hasty half step back as the young man moved his gaze from straight in front to right into the General's eyes, or at least that's how it appeared. There was no way he could see past the mirrored wall.

"Has the young human said anything?" Teal'c asked as he and Carter walked in.

"Well, let's send someone in to talk to him." Jack suggested his eyebrows wiggling at his second in command, "He's got to be hungry by now."

He watched as the door opened and a statuesque blond stepped inside. The tray she held had a plate with a sandwich and fruit cup on it, as well as a can of coke and a covered cup of coffee. She was wearing the same faded blue fatigues that the Daniel person had worn, but her bearing was military instead of slouchy book reader. It was like the different postures of his two best friends but reversed. Interestingly enough, that thought calmed him.

She gave him a friendly smile and set the tray down on the table, pushing it toward him. Without acknowledging her he looked down at the food and held a hand out over the fruit cup. It was a slight pause that he knew she caught, but he picked it up and began plucking out the grapes and popping them into his mouth one by one.

"So, I would ask why you're keeping me locked up, but I do have to admit, I know why," the rationalization didn't startle her, he gave her that much.

"Can you explain it to me?" she asked, leaning over the table on her elbows, hands clasped in front. Her straightforward blue eyes looked into his laughing green.

"I could, but then I'd have to kill you." He leaned forward and repeated the slight hesitation over the sandwich, keeping their eyes connected the whole time so she wouldn't notice. He had no doubt that the five men in the mirrored room had noticed, but he wasn't going to worry about them just yet.

"So it's a secret?"

"It's a juicy big secret," he agreed before popping the top on the coke and taking a short sip to wash down his grilled cheese.

"What's your name? Is that a secret too?" she leaned back, enjoying the banter.

"Call me Harry," he took another bite and nodded to her.

"Major Samantha Carter, USAF."

"Air Force? In a mountain?"

"We're affiliated with Norad."

"Right, tell that one to "Murray". Then he shrugged, "Not like I really care, one way or another."

"What was that weapon you were using? It looks like a stick."

"It is a stick," Harry agreed equably. "But it is my stick and I would like it back, along with my jacket and my picture."

"That was another thing, why do you have so many vials of liquid in your pockets? What are they?" Daniel had been amazed by the amount of stuff Carter had pulled from the pockets. He could have sworn when he'd retrieved it from Doctor Frasier there had been nothing in those pockets at all. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"You looked in the pockets?"


"Did you uncork any of the vials?"

"Not yet…"

"Don't." he said shortly, "They're very dangerous."

"According to the security footage we got from the café you managed to black out an entire room in the middle of the day with full sunlight streaming though the window. Can you explain that? Or is that a big juicy secret too?"

"Not so much a secret as a prank technique." Harry shrugged, "A friend of mine makes amazing prank gift-sets. I'll get you a catalogue if you'd like."

"Sounds fun," Sam shared a smile with him.

"Yes, it was fun, watching the twins test new products was a whole new experience. They had toffees that could make your tongue grow three times its size, or a peppermint that shrunk your head."


"Especially since they tested them out when nobody realized they were doing anything. Imagine telling your teacher that you couldn't go to class because you have a little head."

Harry couldn't help but grin, he knew she didn't believe him.

"I would like to see that," Sam leaned back and wished that the chairs didn't have to be so utilitarian, she hated interrogation chairs, but Harry didn't seem to be having a problem with them, she noted.

And he wasn't, he'd molded the chair to his slouch, Harry didn't feel an ounce of discomfort, but that didn't mean he wanted to be there, despite their awesome- undrugged- grilled cheese sandwich.

"So now that we've established that I can't tell you anything, what are we going to talk about?"

"You can't tell me who those people who attacked you are?"

"They are people who want me dead. What else is there to say?"

"Why do they want you dead?"

"Because they can't kill me, and that frustrates them to no end. That and I have a nasty habit of ruining their world domination plans almost daily. I always show up and ruin their day, so they decided, in recent weeks, to just annoy me to death instead. That's why I was getting coffee. I was tired, and I didn't feel like getting jumped and dying in my sleep."

"Daniel said you called one of them Bellatrix?"

"LeStrange ne Black. You can go ahead and put that in your search, you won't find anything. Most of her kind don't have any sort of paper or computer trail."

"Birth certificates?"

"Not any that you'd have access to."

"Why not?"

"Because she wasn't born in a normal hospital, neither was I, or any of my friends, save a couple."


"Because we're special."

"Like some sort of social experiment?" Carter leaned forward, excited by the new line of enquiry.

"Something like that," Harry laughed. A social experiment indeed, he lost his grin though, and sat forward in the chair as Sam made her next statement.

"You know, you won't get out of here until you start actually telling me stuff that I can use." Carter explained.

"No, you see, you're under the mistaken impression that you can keep me here. That's not so, just ask your little friend in the observatory, standing in the corner," Harry smirked. He knew the American ministry was more open than the British, and they really couldn't do anything to him, being a British citizen and all, but sending an Auror to spy in a corner was really too much. He had to blow the whistle on a guy he knew for a fact had been shadowing him during his trip but hadn't spoken one spell in the coffee house fight. Teal'c was the first to understand, and almost immediately he had one hand pinned against the Auror's throat. Nobody could see him, but the cursing was clearly audible.

"You see, IF he decides to tell you what was really going on, he is allowed to. I'm not cleared to talk to American citizens really. But like I was saying, you can't keep me here, and I was only obliging you to see how far he would let me go. But seeing as how he is no longer a factor I'll let you in on a little something." Carter was still staring in shock at the mirror that was no longer opaque. She could see everyone in the room, including the invisible man struggling in Teal'c's grasp.


"You have a bit of Wizarding blood in you. That's how you could grab things from my pocket, how you can see through the mirrored glass, and that man's enchantment. It also means that me telling you a bit doesn't really violate any agreements my government has with yours. I'm a Wizard, with a capitol "W" and yes, I know how ridiculous that sounds. Now most Wizards would be helpless in this situation. You have my wand," he smiled as Teal'c grabbed the mans flailing arm with his other hand and twisted painfully so that the wooden stick dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers. "And that would be enough to contain most of my kind."

"Most? Not you?"

"You know, usually when someone is attacked it's because they're different in some way. Something about that person that another, or an entire group of other people don't like. I spent most of my life trying to convince people that there was nothing special about me, that I wasn't any different than they were. But when you defeat a man that has held terror above an entire communities head for a few decades, you have to admit that there might just be something special about you after all."

"So they were after you because you defeated this other guy?"

"They've been trying to kill me my entire life. Now it's more of a clean-up effort. Nobody is really willing to take me on, but trying to get me anyway, just to save some face." Harry let out a long sigh and slouched back in the metal frame of his chair. "Now here's the important part. Wizards use wands, separate them and most will be useless. Some don't need to speak a spell to use it, but they still need the wand." Harry looked down at his hands, resting in his lap and smiled wryly.

"I don't need a wand, I don't need eye contact, I don't need to say a goddamn thing. It's like the magic decided that, after killing off my parents, my godfather, their other best friends, half my good friends and countless others, that it owed me something." Suddenly a gasp from behind Carter caused her to twirl around. The box that Daniel had kept Harry's stuff in had vanished, and as she turned back, she found Harry on his feet, shrugging on his jacket. He smirked at the vials and distributed them into the many hidden pockets he'd magicked into existence.

"That being said, sometimes a short cut is needed, and having invention-mad friends tends to reap some benefits," he leaned forward so that only Carter could hear him, pressing a light pink potion into her hand. "Add a couple drops to the guys coffee, I promise you'll be laughing for three hours straight." A wink as he stepped back, clearing the table completely, a sharp turn to the left, a loud CRACK, and he was gone.

so the fun thing is that now i get to think of what that potion vial can do... and how exactly she gets to prank jack and daniel with it. heh. i'm evil.

btw- the only thing left is an epilouge. i'm not continuing on with this, which is why harry spilled the beans, this is a one-shot with a prank continued. thats it. i don't have any other plans for this... though we all know how well that works out. knowing my luck i'll be able to set several more chapters in this "verse". but hey, we'll deal with that if it comes up. in the meantime, enjoy.