tlhIngan maH! (We Are Klingons)
Harry knows that he will meet Voldemort. With the headmaster dead and the underage magic detectors damaged, he decides to give himself an 'edge'. A Crossunder between the worlds of Harry Potter and Start Trek fandom.
What happens when Harry is exposed to a fictional character with a worthwhile warrior ethos? What happens when Harry and company decide to emulate a fictional warrior race. What happens when their training makes them physically strong, immune to pain and magically powerful?
tlhInganpu, is what.
This is NOT a Star Trek / HP crossover! – it's a HP/Trekkie crossunder. The Klingon stuff is based (loosely) on Star Trek (Next Generation) material.
In speech, text enclosed in square brackets [ ] is the Klingon/English translation
All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.
Star Trek, Klingon and everything pertaining are copyright items and the property of Paramount Studios and the Estate of Gene Roddenberry. No infringement on those rights is intended.
There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.
tlhIngan maH! (We Are Klingons) - Part 2: First Contact
Harry was left at Privet Drive while the Dursleys went on holiday, Dudley's school having broken up the day before Harry returned from Hogwarts. Of course, after having completed his summer homework and writing to his friends, he was just left to brood. And since the school had closed early following the death of the Headmaster, it was a much longer summer than usual.
His brooding took him, naturally enough, to the facts of life and death. Sirius was dead and so was Dumbledore. Harry had come to accept these losses as fact. He has sworn vengeance against Tom Riddle. He knew that he would likely die in the process of avenging his parents, Cedric Diggory, Sirius Black, Albus Dumbledore and the thousands of unknown individuals dead at Voldemort's behest.
Harry wanted to live, but he was the focus of a war he could not avoid.
Harry was ready to meet his maker, but not before he had expunged Voldemort from the world.
Harry wanted an edge. Harry needed an edge. Harry needed to be able to use the power he knows not.
Harry needed a decent night's sleep.
Trying to take his mind off of the world as he knew it, he decided to take a look at something on the television. He thought he was going to watch a program about astronomy, a subject with which he needed all the help he could get. What he saw was a science fiction program called Star Trek.
The plot was fairly simple and the imagery barely credible but the characters! There was an almost-human android (he had to look the word up in the dictionary) and there was a very human-looking alien with a strange head and a bad temper. A Klingon called Wharf, or something.
There was something about this last character that seemed to resonate with Harry's psyche.
The man was an orphan and a great warrior. He followed the ideals of honour and truth and strength. There the resemblance to Harry had broken down, but Harry found himself thinking, that night, that this was the kind of person he wanted to be. Without, perhaps, the forehead and snaggle-teeth.
He watched the program each evening that week, the episodes unfurling and developing Harry's thoughts. Harry decided to find out more.
Thursday arrived and Harry walked in to Little Whinging town centre, to the library, a sterile glass and concrete building as cheerless and unpleasant as the library at school was welcoming, although he'd die before he admitted that to Hermione.
Wandering the shelves he found that there were videos of the series and books about the programs, and such books. They treated the series as though the programs were reality. Harry started reading, and viewing programs on the video machines, building up a picture of the warrior, Worf, and some behind-the-scenes information on the series' Klingon Warrior.
Harry decided that he was going to give himself a present on his birthday this year. A present that Voldemort would honestly regret, at least, eventually.
Saturday arrived and Harry took his remaining muggle money into town. He bought some books on oriental martial arts, a book on Star Trek and some karate clothes, as well as some basic training weights. He also bought some decent food.
He started planning, and he started training.
Harry had become quite fit during his time at Hogwarts, what with quiddich, magical duelling and other physical activities. What he began doing now was intended to bring his stamina up and his strength for physical, muggle-style fighting.
Harry had no illusions, he knew that in a fist fight Dudley could pummel him. In a fist fight, Stan Shunpike could probably best him, too. That was about to change.
Harry, having learned the lesson of determination and already having excellent reflexes, was an apt student of the martial arts. Using books and videos from the library he learned the stances, the punching and blocking skills and the set forms or katas. He was working with a mixture of styles and disciplines, creating his own. He meditated, partly as an occlumancy exercise, but also as part of his new combat training philosophy. He was changing both physically and mentally.
His birthday arrived, and he was suddenly seventeen and an adult, at least, magically speaking.
Hermione had invited him to stay with her for the remainder of the summer, an offer he accepted eagerly. Before travelling to Oxfordshire to be with her, he visited Diagon Alley, drawing a large reserve of gold, part of which he converted to muggle money. After leaving Diagon Alley, he visited an aerospace engineering firm close to Grunnings in Little Whinging.
They were a little surprised when he bought a quantity of titanium bar, the strong, lightweight metal used in jet engines. Returning to Privet Drive, he transfigured the metal stock into two sets of weaponry, as described in the Star Trek source book.
There was one other thing that he needed: the Klingon Pain-Sticks. He transfigured some old aluminium pipe into foot-long batons with safety sleeves, attaching transfigured glass "crystals" to the end. These he enchanted with various pain-giving curses and hexes. He touched one to his thigh and groaned with the pain.
Now he was ready to visit Hermione.