Title: Foreseeable Incident
Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc. belong to J.K.Rowling + license holders; Ranma 1/2 characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and her license holders. Used without permission
Set at no certain point in any timeline but before Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban.
Situation and events depicted herein may not occur in OTL.
Distribution: TTH, that's it!
Summary: A Ranma1/2 – Harry Potter crossover, dribble
“Have you heard...”
“The 'Prophet' put out a special issue already...”
“They haven't found any survivors...”
Under the public's intense scrutiny the ministry's forensic wizards sifted through what little rubble there was in and around the crater. Emergency spells kept the sea from flooding the area, incessantly maintained. Somewhere above a lighting spell sputtered out in a cascade of red and yellow sparks, immediately replaced. The countless scrying spells everyone and the press cast started to interfere with the work.
Fudge wanted results and he was not patient enough to wait for the experts. Already aurors swarmed the lands in a blind witch hunt.
“It was the Death Eaters, they tried to free Black...”
“The Gnome Liberation Army...”
Rumors filled the air in pubs and homes and big burly wizards patrolled Diagon Alley, their wands never leaving their hands.
Deep in the bowels of the Ministry forensic divinators gazed into water-filled bowls and crystal balls, murmuring dissonant syllables over miniscule beads of volcanic glass to find what may have survived that hell embedded in them.
It was thanks to their unceasing care that some lead was found and the scenes unraveled in their scrying mirrors.
Under the scrutiny of three aurors the youth, barely older than seventeen, waited for the fortress' gates to open. He was asian, obviously japanese even, wearing black trousers and a yellow tunic tied at the waist by a piece of rope in place of a belt, his mop of unruly black hair held in check by a yelow and black spotted bandanna. Powerful spells kept him moving marionette-like, unable to fight his wardens. But already his eys, his body spelled defeat and despair.
Deep in the fortress' bowels a door closed behind the youth with a certain finality and the aurors hurried to leave, to put miles between themself and the dementors' never-sated hunger. But before, a last task to be done. A white card slid into a frame on the door, the print on it reading:
assault and of ministry personnel and aurors;
misuse of magical artifacts among muggles”
“RANMA! This is all your fault!”