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Thinking in Little Green Boxes

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Summary: The ever friendly and cuddly Merc with a Mouth discovers a baby named Harry on his doorstep.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Non-BtVS/AtS Stories > Theme: Comedy
Marvel Universe > X-Men > Non-BtVS/AtS Stories
DireSquirrelFR154985,87746596445,56215 Dec 093 Sep 12No

Wrong Address

I own none of these characters. Deadpool is owned by Disney now, and Harry Potter is owned by JKR.



Harry and Daddypool


I, Deadpool, awoke to the sound of a screaming baby. Opening the front door, I immediately checked to see if I was still thinking in those little yellow boxes.

“Yes I am,” said the little yellow box.

“Isn’t this supposed to be a secret safe house?” I asked the little yellow box.

“A very safe house,” agreed the little yellow box.

“And it’s supposed to be empty, right?”

“Exactly,” said the little yellow box.

“So someone left a baby on the step of an empty house?”

“Yes they did.”

“Thank you little yellow box!”

Apparently this had quieted down the baby. I immediately terrified him by taking off my mask. Satisfied, I went back to the couch to watch my soaps. Unfortunately the child was well able to drown out “Passions.”

“What does it want?” I asked the little yellow box.

“Is it hungry?” Asked the little yellow box.

“Let’s ask someone else,” I suggested for the both of me. Pulling a phone out, I dialed my old buddy’s number. “Copy Cat!”

“Deadpool, what do you want?”

“I’m not being drawn by Rob Liefeld right now am I?”

“What?”

“It’s a serious question,” I said, pulling the basket of baby inside. I grabbed a week old sub from the fridge and munched down. “He makes men look like they’ve got bigger boobs than She-Hulk.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Too bad, you should have seen Captain America’s rack, it was huge. Oh, well,” I said, mumbling around the sub sandwich. “So what shuts babies up?”

“Oh please tell me you don’t have a baby right now.”

“I don’t have a baby right now,” I answered. Copy Cat gets a little cranky sometimes. Telling her what she wants to hear usually cheers her up.

“What’s its name?”

“I dunno. I think it’s on the basket,” I said, glancing at the card in the blanket. “Harry. You don’t look like a Harry. I think I’m going to call you Arthur instead…Or maybe Bea. Arthur Bea Wilson. Arthur B. Wilson? Too politician. A. Bea Wilson? Nah, too lawyer.”

“Why are you renaming the kid?” she asked me. There was a pause as Copy Cat, AKA Copy Cat, pondered over my predicament. “Wait, I don’t want to know. Where are you?”

“I’m in my safe house.”

“And where did you find the baby?”

“On my doorstep,” I said glancing at the card. “Oh, they got the address wrong. He was supposed to go to 4 Privet Drive. This is 4 Privy Drive.”

“…Deadpool, wait right there,” she said. For some strange reason she sounded worried. I pushed it out of my mind as Arthur started to wail again. It was a while later when Copy Cat finally showed. She immediately proclaimed Arthur to be cute. I immediately took offense. Pouting under my mask, I suddenly realized I was not wearing a leg bandoleer.

“No pouches! Yay! That means it’s not Liefeld.”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” Copy Cat said to me.



“What is the matter Albus?”

“Forgive me, Minerva, I’m just concerned that the blood wards haven’t activated yet,” Albus Dumbledore said in his usual concerned tone.

“Give it time,” McGonagall recommended. “All will work out in the end.”

“I do hope so,” the Headmaster said quietly. “I certainly do hope so.”



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