Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Okay, so I'm trying something ENTIRELY new. I've got a TON of prompts sitting here in my documents, and while I want to read all the stories, I do not have the time to WRITE them all. So! I've decided to put several of them out there for other people to adopt. Problem is that I have no idea where to put them, so I've compiled a bunch onto a Google Docs file and opened the sharing! That way, I can add more prompts as they come to me without having to 'update' an Ao3 story for a single prompt.

That being said, I have literally no idea if this is going to work or not. I'm going to have a separate 'story' for each fandom that I'll post prompts to. Remember! Just because it's up for adoption doesn't mean I might not write something for it, too!

Guidelines:

Some of the prompts have optional titles—you may keep these, or change them.

Prompts will be numbered. This is to make it easier for everyone when posting stories inspired by these prompts

If you post a story inspired by this prompt, please link it to the Ao3 document so I (and those who also want to read them) can find them more easily. This’ll also make it easier for people to find other stories inspired by the same prompt.

Please include the Prompt number in your Author’s Note on the first chapter (or the prompt summary).

I do not implement rules on my prompts. These are meant to inspire creativity. If you take only a general concept from the prompt and disregard all else, then go for it! I will not impose specific pairings (or lack thereof), tropes, headcanons, or anything else upon you.

If you post to a site beyond Ao3, please link the Ao3 Prompts page so other people can find these. :) 

Finally, this list will periodically update as I come up with new prompts. That’s why I’ve chosen to do a Google Document for this. Comments are turned on as well, so have fun with that, but please be respectful (and do not write on the document itself—comments should be formed by highlighting a portion of text and right clicking and selecting ‘comment’)

Okay, so some crossovers will be featured in the snippets of the 'chapters'. I might edit this later to separate those prompts into 'stories' of their own, though they will remain 'abandoned outlines' that'll be up for adoption.

Prompts List:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1czMsqmylng9PifWrWAIkN1uA3G0bzK3vdQqtghL5Xgw/edit?usp=sharing

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A/N: So I've decided that anything I've written for these prompts that I likely will not plan to continue will be posted as 'chapters'. Feel free to take inspiration from what is written—hell, take the entire scenario! But please do not just copy/paste it and claim it as yours. A sentence here and there? Fine. But please be mindful (especially if the pieces are longer than what's below). The chapters will be titled by the prompt they're based off of. :3 Have fuuuuunnn!

Whatever Yamada Hizashi had expected upon proctoring the physical exams for the Heroics Course, it certainly wasn’t staring the ghosts of his past in the face. There was a young boy… his dark green hair defied gravity in a painfully familiar fashion. That alone could’ve been waved off. But when he called the start of the exams, he had to cover his mouth to hold in a scream.

The boy produced a cloud and flew on it. Just like Oboro used to. He raised a shaky hand to his earpiece. “Nezu.” He didn’t need to say more. He could only imagine Shouta and Nemuri’s states in the examination room.

“Midoriya Izuku.” Nezu’s voice filtered across the earpiece. “Quirk: Cloud.” Midoriya… that name sounded vaguely familiar. Why did it sound familiar? “His mother is Midoriya Inko, and her wife is Midoriya Hisashi. But his biological father is Shirakumo Yokensai.”

“He’s Oboro’s brother .” Hizashi whispered. Oboro had mentioned him only once, stating that his father had had an affair and Oboro had met the adorable then-two-year-old for the first time. He’d been ecstatic. He’d only had the chance to meet him once before Oboro had died. They’d never even heard his name . Even so, Oboro had been so excited to be a big brother…

And now, that same brother was unknowingly following in his brother’s footsteps. Hizashi couldn’t decide if this was poetic or cruel. What he did know was that seeing the kid utilize this Quirk in ways so similar and yet so very different from Oboro was making his chest hurt . He cushioned the falls from applicants who’d taken hard hits, used them as footholds when he needed the higher ground, and even used them to hold his enemies in place while he dealt a final blow with his staff.

God, it was like he was back in their second year all over again. That flyaway hair was just like his brother’s, only green instead of white. It was… painful. How was he going to teach this child when he couldn’t even look at him without crying?

This… was going to be a long year.

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Allow me to introduce to you my way of writing. I call my first stage of writing a 'blerg' or 'outline'. Most people who read my 'outlines' call them 'first drafts'. Whenever I dislike something, or realize I've written myself into a corner, I'll 'scrap' it. That is to say, I'll copy/paste it onto another document titled "Scraps" (example, the scraps for my story Viridian is titled "Viridian Scraps").

Even my blergs sometimes have scraps, which I'll normally keep at the bottom of the document. This one has it too! I'll add more of an explanation when you get down to that part. Enjoy the Snip! I hope it inspires you to write this story, or at least scratches a reading itch. :3

It had been a normal training session. Aizawa Shouta was trying to keep damage to a minimum, but there was only so much he could do as one person. This entire last week, they’d been working on hand-to-hand combat, so Shouta was the most logical teacher, as that was what he relied upon as a hero.

They’d finally reached the point where they were doing one-on-one spars with Quirks—something he’d been wary about with Bakugo and Midoriya in particular, as their Quirks were both heavily destructive.

As such, he’d called in Thirteen and All Might to help monitor the class to make sure nobody was sent to Recovery Girl.

Things were going fine. He’d purposefully avoided pairing specific people to prevent any added confrontation, but it appeared that All Might didn’t get the memo (as usual), because when Shouta looked up from helping Jiro adjust her stance, Midoriya was standing across from Bakugo.

He scowled at the former Number One hero, but kept his mouth shut. Pulling them apart now would make it seem like he was babying them. Even still, he’d taken note that Bakugo was in a bad mood today. He kept a firm eye on the fight, ready to intervene if he started fighting too violently.

But things escalated far too quickly for him to do so. Because one moment, things were fine, and the next Bakugo muttered something that Shouta could only scarcely catch—something about pebbles and heroes—which made Midoriya suddenly freeze and jerk in surprise.

This put him directly in the path of Bakugo’s explosion-powered punch, which collided with a sickening crack to his skull. Everything stopped and Shouta was by his student’s side in an instant.

“Deku!” Uraraka and Iida rushed over to him, and Todoroki wasn’t far behind.

Shouta shoved his phone in his pocket, grateful that he’d added Recovery Girl to his speed dial within the first week of the school year.

Thankfully, Midoriya was quickly regaining consciousness. He let out a small breath of relief, only to feel it catch when Midoriya gazed around in confusion. His green eyes focused on Shouta—who was closest to him—with a small sense of awe. “E-Eraserhead…?”

He felt something cold slither through his veins. None of his students called him by his hero name unless they were on missions.

“Oi, Deku, what’re you looking at sensei like that for?” Bakugo huffed, but Shouta caught the shine of concern in his eyes.

Midoriya instantly tried to sit up and scramble away from Bakugo in fear , but his head injury made him sway at any attempt to go vertical. Shouta’s hands were steadying him instantly, and he’d never admit how much it hurt that his Problem Child flinched away from his touch.

“Deku?” Uraraka questioned softly.

The kid flinched at the nickname, and Shouta had a sinking feeling. “Midoriya, what’s the last thing you can remember?” His question quieted the rising commotion of the class as well as some of the panic in the child in his arms.

“Um… I was… I w-was attacked b-by a villain under the bridge on my way home from school.” He avoided eye contact as he looked down at his hands, only to startle when he saw his own scars. “H-how did I get these…?”

Fuck . “And do you know what day it is?”

“U-um… A-April 12 th ?” He guessed.

Bakugo’s breath hitched. “W-wait, Deku…” He ignored the way the Problem Child twitched and pushed against his arms like he was instinctively trying to get away from the explosive boy. He could address that later. “Y-you don’t mean… that day I burned your notebook?”

“Y-yes? You threw it out the window earlier.” Tears filled Midoriya’s eyes. “B-but it’s okay! I managed to pull it from the p-pond…”

That was not okay, and he’d be speaking to Bakugo about it later, but for now his main concern was his Problem Child’s apparent memory loss. He glanced at Bakugo for a timeframe.

“That was about ten months before the UA Entrance Exams.”

“What?! You mean Deku doesn’t remember any of us?!” Uraraka cried out, and Shouta shot her a look when the Problem Child flinched.

“Midoriya, I’m going to move you. Let me know if anything hurts, okay?” He waited for the boy to nod before carefully lifting him up. The kid flinched lightly, but didn’t comment. Shouta glanced at Thirteen. “Watch the students while I take him to Recovery Girl. I think it’s best if things were explained to him away from the class.”

“R-right.” The rescue hero winced when those bright green eyes turned towards Thirteen with a bright sparkle.

Shouta sighed when they were away from everyone. “O-oh wow .” Midoriya whispered to himself. “This is… UA!? That’s that amazing school where the teachers are actual heroes and they train the best of the best and All Might himself went there! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I’m actually inside UA! ”

He internally winced. “Midoriya. Listen to me. You took a nasty blow to the head, and lost some memories. About a year and a half’s worth, actually.”

“W-wait… what?” Midoriya gasped before a light frown marred his face. “Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, my memories are kind of fuzzy… I’ve gotten concussions before, but I don’t think I’ve ever gotten one this bad… Kacchan must’ve gotten a lot stronger, then…” His eyes widened. “But if I’m in UA… Am I a General Education student?!”

Shouta blinked with a frown. “No, you’re in my class. Heroics Class 1–A.”

Midoriya stared at him, slack-jawed. “B-but how ?! There’s no way someone like me could’ve passed the entrance exams! I mean… Being a hero’s always been my dream, but… I figured that I’d have to transfer from General Education like you did…”

How had his Problem Child had known that much about him before ever setting foot on UA’s grounds? “And why don’t you think you could make it in?” The kid had an incredibly powerful Quirk. There’s no way he should’ve doubted himself.

“B-because I’m Quirkless, sir…”

What ?! He nearly stopped walking, but he forced his feet to keep moving nonetheless. If his memories were from ten months before the exams… “Midoriya… you do have a Quirk. A very powerful and dangerous one. Despite what you may think you know, you’ve had this Quirk since at least the start of the school year.” He watched as the Problem Child’s eyes widened in awe.

“B-but the doctor said… to give it up. That I’d never…” The kid had the most heartbreaking mixture of disbelief, awe, and agony etched onto his face.

[Here's that separation I was talking about. Below is a 'scrap' of this blerg. My initial thought was 'Oh, he's likely going to have Recovery Girl come out to treat Izuku there.' but then I decided it'd be better if he wakes up soon after being knocked out. Because... y'know, being knocked out for any real length of time usually means some kind of brain damage. And yeah, he's got temporary memory loss, but there's no reason to give Shouta any additional heart attacks. He's gonna have enough on his plate with the realization of what's going on.]

She was hurrying to their class within a minute, and he shot her a look.

“Problem Child took a nasty blow to the head.” He explained.

“I…” Bakugo was somewhat pale as he stared at the unconscious boy.

“I know it wasn’t your intention.” Shouta watched the way his shoulders tensed. “But your Quirk is incredibly destructive. You need to learn to hold back when fighting people. You can apologize to Midoriya when he wakes up.” Shouta really hoped that was a when . Head injuries were a bitch at the best of times, and Midoriya had fallen unconscious instantly. The blood wasn’t a good sign either.

Recovery Girl hissed lightly as she assessed the damage, utilizing her Quirk before shifting him onto a stretcher. “I’ll keep you posted on his condition.” She promised as her helper robots carried Midoriya away to the infirmary.

Shouta resisted the urge to sigh as he called the class back to session. There was an obvious shift in the energy of the class.

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A/N: Okay! A crossover this time? Yep. Why? Because my brain's just weird like that. :3 In which Aizawa's a Squib, Izuku is Harry and Sirius somehow still ends up dead (sorry). This starts off in a 'proper' outline format, and then my brain goes into a more detailed blerg mode. Haha... Please enjoy. Comments are welcome. And if you write this, please ping me! I'd love to read it!!

Please forgive any inconsistencies. As I said—this is an outline.

HP/Bnha Outline (And blerg, later on)

Canon is still canon, but when the boy that would one day become known as Aizawa Shouta was born, the world was still at war. Or the Wizarding world was, at least. The Lestrange Family was thrilled that they’d finally have an heir, but Bellatrix became concerned when young Felis Lynx Lestrange showed no signs of accidental magic.

By the age of six, her worst fears were confirmed—he was a Squib. He had one of those strange muggle Quirks that seemed to chase away even the most ancient of magics, and she wanted nothing to do with such a cursed child.

But he was still her son—and like it or not, her barely there mother’s instincts frowned upon her outright killing the boy. Instead, she gave him a choice—to leave the Wizarding World and abandon the Lestrange name, or die. He was smart enough to choose the former.

He wandered the streets of London for a bit before some local heroes picked him up and he was placed in an orphanage. Nobody really wanted the kid with the villain’s Quirk, though, and it wasn’t until an older Japanese man came by that someone saw potential in the then ten year old boy.

They took him back to Japan, giving him the name ‘Aizawa Shouta’, when he stated he wanted no ties to his former life. And from there, Shouta fostered a dream to become a hero, just like the man who’d rescued him.

He died while Shouta was a first year at UA, and he was hoisted off from one foster home to the next. Some were horrible, others tolerable. More often than not, he crashed with his friends Hizashi, Nemuri, and Oboro.

Even though he left the magical world behind, he was still very much aware of what went on. It would be stupid to not keep track—a foolish mistake, should his old birth mother ever wish to come back and off him for good.

He practiced skills that could aid him if he ever came upon a magic user who meant him harm, or a villain who could use magic (highly unlikely, as magic and Quirks seemed to be unable to coexist naturally).

When he married Hizashi, he told him everything. Marriage allowed him to tell his husband legally, without breaking the statute of secrecy. Nemuri, however, had to be kept out of the loop.

Even in Japan, Shouta heard about The Boy Who Lived, and how he mysteriously vanished—whisked away in the night by his godfather—a supposed traitor. Nothing more was said, and Shouta decided it really wasn’t his problem. His ‘mother’ had been arrested, and was rotting in Azkaban where she belonged.

Even though he was a Squib, he had just enough magic that his Quirk not only erased other Quirks, but magic as well—something he’d discovered quite by accident when he’d gotten frustrated at a vendor in Magical Tokyo who had refused to just pick up the damn bag like a normal person, and instead was holding up the line by trying to figure out the best way to move it with magic.

It’d been a fairly interesting discovery, but he’d managed to make sure nobody saw.

So when he erased his Problem Child’s Quirk during the Quirk Assessment, he was more than a little surprised to feel not only a Quirk, but magic—something that shouldn’t be possible at all with a Quirk that strong.

But, as he’d learn, his Problem Child was always a Problem Child.

Midoriya Izuku wasn’t always named Midoriya Izuku. In fact, he’d been born to one James and Lily Potter in England. Harry Potter had been his name. Despite the odd hair color—something that came from Lily’s side of the family—the green haired green eyed boy had the famous Potter mess of curls, and James had been delighted.

Moreover, Sirius, the boy’s godfather, had been overjoyed that his godson was so damn smart.

When that Halloween hit, Sirius almost lost it. He nearly went after Peter in a fit of rage, but instead he understood that his first priority was the quiet babe in his arms.

He had followed Hagrid, after lending him his bike, and understood that their ploy to paint him as the Potter’s Secret Keeper had now become his noose.

Sirius Black had to disappear. But there was no way he could do that until he knew Harry was safe and happy.

But when he finally found the child two weeks later, he nearly committed mass murder. The Dursleys were lucky that the most he did was slash a few tires—muggle style.

He took Harry and contacted the goblins. For a hefty fee, they helped him craft a new identity—complete with a permanent spell linked to a necklace to replicate a fire breathing Quirk, and a blood adoption for Harry.

Midoriya Hisashi, he’d chosen as his new name. And he’d renamed Harry—painfully so, but it was necessary—Midoriya James Izuku.

They left for Japan, the Goblins receiving a yearly payoff to make it look like the Black Accounts had been frozen and to make it seem like he just disappeared.

He hadn’t expected to run into a pretty green-haired woman who bore a shocking resemblance to his now-son, nor did he expect to fall in love with her.

She utterly adored Izuku, even when it became apparent that he was Quirkless—because magic and Quirks just didn’t mix. And so when things became serious—pun totally not intended—he told her as much of the truth as he dared. He didn’t dare tell her everything (no, that was tucked safely in a warded letter for Izuku when he was older, just in case something happened to Sirius himself), but he told her about magic and about all sorts of things. He mentioned his horrible family, and his wonderful friends.

He married the love of his life, and even considered joining the pro hero business, because Izuku seemed to adore them.

Sirius Orion Black never got that chance, because when Izuku was nine, old enough that he knew of magic, but young enough that Sirius hadn’t explained his past—Midoriya Hisashi died in a villain attack that was never televised. A massive attack that had two of the most powerful people on the planet collide.

When Izuku was 11, he got two letters. One was from a very strange and highly confused owl that seemed to have no idea where it was. It invited someone named Harry Potter to a school in the UK for magic.

The other was a letter from his dad explaining his past. It came with a handful of leatherback journals and a key to an old trunk that held old schoolbooks, photo albums, and other keepsakes from his dad, bio-dad, and bio-mom.

The notebooks had fail-safe plans to get away should he choose to leave that world behind as well. It had the tricks to becoming an animagus, how to ward his mind, how to ‘cheat’ at potions (really, it was just a simple how-to-understand guide, but his dad called it cheating).

Most importantly, it told him how to reintegrate into the British Wizarding World without tipping his hand as Midoriya Izuku, and how to make Harry Potter vanish should he wish to do so.

He gave Hogwarts a try, because maybe he could make friends! And he had. But being sorted into Slytherin—nearly a Hufflepuff, which he found he might’ve actually preferred—was horrible. Since they assumed his ‘godfather’ had kidnapped him, they watched him for any signs of ‘going dark’.

Slytherin didn’t accept the ‘savior of the Wizarding World’ and the rest of the school didn’t accept the up and coming dark lord they thought him to be.

Still, he managed to make a friend (ally) out of Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott. So there was that, at least. Draco was much easier to handle than Kacchan. He didn’t have to worry about Draco blowing him up if he muttered or spoke his mind, and the fact that he was relatively unaffected by his words or glares seemed to intimidate the blonde. Oh, well.

So first year wasn’t so bad. Dumbledore seemed a tad too interested in his personal life, which he kept very private, and spelling his hair black really wasn’t that difficult.

No, First year was fine. A tad dangerous, but if he decided to pursue heroism, then danger was just part of the game. It was Second Year that fucked him over.

After being accosted by the school, attacked by upper years (he was disappointed that the teachers did nothing. Unsurprised, but still disappointed, especially since his dad had mentioned McGonagall fondly.), nearly murdered by his year-mates, outed as a parselmouth, and nearly memory-wiped by one of the most incompetent teachers he’d ever had (and that was saying something), he had to take down a sixty-foot motherfucking basilisk. Alone. If that damn phoenix hadn’t been there, he would’ve died.

He knew, from research, that the venom of the basilisk would never leave his system, and that his life span would be shortened permanently because of his encounter with it. He kept the damn fang (he’d earned that!) and was sorely tempted to keep the sword, but ultimately decided to hand the blade over.

He made his decision the moment the headmaster prioritized his story over his health.

Harry Potter left his Second Year of Hogwarts bloodied and exhausted, and he did not return.

Midoriya Izuku, who had taken two years of homeschooling, returned to public school the following year. Quirkless Deku was still bullied—still attacked. But he didn’t let any of their taunts or actions deter him from his newly resparked determination to become a hero.

A real hero, not some cheap figurehead from an accident when he was a baby.

He never expected to meet All Might in his third year, and when the man offered him a Quirk, he really couldn’t say no. Some tiny part of him was terrified that his Magic would react badly—perhaps reject the Quirk entirely.

Thankfully, despite the initial pain of the two fighting within him, the Quirk settled, and his Magic accepted it as a part of him.

Perhaps that was why he seemed to gain a stronger understanding of how his Quirk worked after breaking both legs and one arm in the Entrance Exams.

The Quirk Assessment test only solidified his resolve to learn how to control it, and he made good use of the gyms after classes. By the third day of school, he’d figured out his Full Cowling, something that impressed and confused Aizawa, because the teacher just couldn’t understand how he could make so much progress in three days, but not the ten years he’d supposedly had the Quirk.

Izuku thought about telling his teacher he was a late bloomer, but McGonnagall had ruined any hope of trust for authority. Instead, he grit his teeth and buckled down.

It wasn’t until the USJ that he thought maybe he could trust this one teacher. This man who’d put his life on the line to protect them all… surely, he couldn’t be as bad as the rest of them?

So when, in the wake of everything, Aizawa asked him to stay after, he hadn’t been overly concerned. Sure, he was still nervous—this was a teacher!!—but he wasn’t as bad off as he would be if Aizawa had done this prior to saving their asses.

And when the man asked him with confusion why he hadn’t used Full Cowling during the exams, Izuku told him with all honesty that the exams had been the first time he’d used his Quirk. 

Aizawa had been shocked, to say the least, and had taken it upon himself to help Izuku train with his Quirk before the Sports Festival. It was also during these training sessions that he brought up something that shocked Izuku—Magic. 

He hadn’t really thought about the possibility of the two worlds mixing to such an extent. To think that Aizawa was a Squib? It made his brain hurt. For far too long, he’d kept Midoriya Izuku—Quirked Heroics Student—and Harry Potter—Wizard—completely separated. Like they were two entirely different worlds. In a way, they were. 

And when he told Aizawa that he didn’t want to talk about it, the teacher let the topic drop, stating only an offer of an open door should he need it (and a warm cauldron should he wish to practice in any capacity). 

It wouldn’t be until after Hosu—where a bout of accidental magic in the face of Stain’s overpoweringly horrifying aura knocked the man out—that he would take his teacher up on his offer. 

Aizawa had, thankfully, been the hero he’d been interning under, so he really hadn’t had to explain his reasons why. Indeed, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen his sensei so pale as that moment he watched the Nomu pick him up. 

So, under a heavy set of wards, Aizawa taught Izuku magic by day, and Underground Heroics by night. 

It was so unlike what he’d experienced at Hogwarts. There was none of the expectations of turning a mouse into a pincushion. None of the potions classes spent with a hook-nosed teacher breathing down his neck. 

No. Instead, he was learning in a nurturing and encouraging environment. It rekindled his love for magic in a way that he’d never known before. It seemed Aizawa was just as pleased with his progress. It also surprised him a little, that Aizawa didn’t seem bitter at all. 

“I never wanted magic, kid. It was probably for the best that I was born with a Quirk instead.” He’d told him. The words made Izuku frown, but he supposed he could understand. Even Izuku had chosen to leave that world behind. 

Even so, an untrained wizard was a dangerous thing. Thankfully, Aizawa had a teaching certificate in the magical world too, and had registered Izuku as his apprentice. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so happy before. His dad would be so proud. Especially when he unlocked his animagus form during their summer training camp. 

He wasn’t sure what Aizawa was more proud of—the fact that he’d unlocked it, or the fact that he was a member of the cat family. Either way, he was happy. 

It got to the point where he felt horrible for hiding it. In the wake of the disaster that was Kamino—wherein Aizawa had reprimanded him for his recklessness before smothering him in a hug and giving him plenty of potions and tea—he finally told Aizawa about One For All. 

To say the Erasure Hero was shocked was an understatement. Almost as much of an understatement as saying he was mad at All Might for not informing him sooner. 

At least Hizashi was there with hot chocolate. 

After Kamino, things calmed down a fair amount. It was why, on October the 31, Izuku was beyond shocked when shit hit the fan. One moment he’d been sitting in Aizawa’s living room in the dorms enjoying some of Yamada’s hot cocoa, and the next he was sprawled out on the ground, chocolate nowhere to be found. 

And not just any ground. He was in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. 

And Izuku was not pleased. 

Aizawa Shouta was not pleased when his Problem Child vanished. He knew the feel of magic, and seeing Hizashi’s startled expression as the mug of half-gone hot chocolate hit the ground only made his bad mood worse. 

Luckily, he’d given the Problem Child a hero-grade phone—which worked even in highly magical environments. 

So he sent off a message and prayed for the best. He wasn’t sure what to think when his Problem Child informed him that he had been force-teleported to Hogwarts of all places. The kid promised to explain once he’d arrived (and it made him smile to know that his Problem Child trusted him enough to not even think twice about the fact that Shouta would be going there. Disownment be damned). 

So it was with a massive scowl that’d make his mother think twice that he bundled himself up in his Capture Weapon, donned his Wizard’s robe and informed Nezu of the situation—because surprise, surprise, the Statute of Secrecy doesn’t apply to animals .

He didn’t question how Nezu got ahold of an international portkey on such short notice, nor did he waste time thinking about it. With a look at his husband—who was coming along whether Shouta wanted him to or not—they were off. 

Whatever the world expected when Harry James Potter was summoned via magical contract by the Triwizard Tournament Cup, it wasn’t some kid with green hair and freckles wearing a black tank top that showed off muscle . Muscle the likes of which most wizards never saw a day in their lives. 

It wasn’t the glare of the gentle slytherin that had been last seen little over two years prior. And it certainly wasn’t for him to sigh and run his hands through his hair and pull out what the muggleborns recognized as a smartphone and start texting. 

“Mada, mada. You guys sure made a mess.” He muttered softly, shooting a glare at the teacher table. 

“Harry, my boy—”

“No.” He cut off Dumbledore with a sharp glare. “No. I’m not ‘your boy’ and I’m not your student. I left Hogwarts, and I have no intentions of returning. I will be returning home where I will stay .” His tone was firm, and the icy chill that swept the room left many of the students shivering. 

“I’m afraid that cannot be done.” Dumbledore shook his head sadly. “See, that cup was meant to be an impartial judge for the Triwizard Tournament.” 

“I don’t care.” Izuku gritted his teeth. “I don’t want any part of it.” 

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, Potter .” Snape spat the name like a curse. 

“Uh… pretty sure that bringing me here against my will is kidnapping.” Izuku deadpanned. 

“It’s a magically binding contract.” Some guy who looked like a ministry snob stepped forward. “That means, since it latched onto your magical signature, you have to compete. Or lose your magic.” 

A year ago, Izuku wouldn’t have blinked twice at the prospect of losing his magic. He would’ve gladly walked right out of those doors with both middle fingers raised high and venom on his tongue that’d make his dad laugh and his mom scrub his mouth with acid. 

But Aizawa had taught him how to love his magic again. How to find wonder and joy in the little things he could do. Plus, he really enjoyed being a cat, and didn’t want to lose that. 

So instead, he simply glared at his old headmaster, who had started making his way over towards him. Whispers floated around him, and Izuku’s mouth curled down into a scowl. 

“Come now, my boy, let’s—” Izuku flinched away from the hand that tried to touch him, and a familiar voice growled out from the now open doors of the Great Hall. 

“Get your hands off my kid .” Aizawa stalked over like a shadow, gently pulling Izuku towards him. “You okay?” 

“Yeah. Thanks, sensei.” Izuku leaned against him, a little surprised to see Hizashi standing there, too. 

“Problem Child, what have I told you about that?” Aizawa sent him a small glare. 

“Right. Sorry, Aizawa.” 

“And who… are you?” Snape looked at Aizawa down his long hooked nose, taking in the ‘muggle’ clothing beneath the wizard’s cloak. 

“I am Aizawa Shouta, Pro Hero, and mentor to Midoriya.” He stated firmly, and Izuku winced when the wizards blinked. “Why have you kidnapped my student?” 

“Er… Aizawa...?” Izuku spoke up slowly. “There may be… something I forgot to mention.” 

“I assume this is pertinent to the current situation?” 

“Kinda, yeah.” He sighed as he moved his messy curls to the side, showing him the infamous lightning scar. “My birth name was Harry Potter.” 

Aizawa blinked once… twice… “I see.” He nodded. “I stand corrected, then.” He turned towards Dumbledore. “It is now obvious why you have kidnapped my student. But I assure you, he is my student. Magical Binding Contracts are illegal on minors, and seeing as Midoriya is fourteen, you have broken that law.” He glared, and Dumbledore nearly took a step back. “As such, expect consequences .” 

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” Izuku sighed heavily, giving Hizashi a small smile when he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“You’re not alone in this, either, Listener.” 

“Whoa!! Isn’t that Present Mic?! ” Someone shouted, and Hizashi flashed them a grin before turning a glare on Dumbledore. 

“I’m afraid that Harry cannot stay with two… muggles .” Dumbledore spoke slowly, gauging their reactions. 

“Muggles?” Aizawa’s grin became nearly feral. “Why, aside from my husband, I see no muggles here.”

“A Squib, then?” Snipe looked entirely unimpressed. “Should be easy enough to remove custody.” 

Aizawa’s grin grew, and Izuku knew that they were falling right into his hands. “Go ahead and try. I dare you. But if I catch wind of you attacking my student, or tampering with his food or drink, I will take legal action.” He paused for a moment. “Did you know? A Hero License is valid in the Magical World, too.” He threw the comment over his shoulder as he guided Izuku out of the Great Hall.

Once the three were alone—outside, because fucking portraits— Aizawa sighed. “I hate Magical Brittain.” 

“You… you’re okay with me being…?” Izuku shuffled his feet, noting the giant boat that rocked in the waves of the Black Lake. Were there other magical schools here and he just hadn’t noticed? 

“So what if you were Harry Potter?” Aizawa ruffled his hair. “You’re still my Problem Child. No matter who you were born as, you are my student now. And I’ll protect you with everything I have.” 

Izuku smiled up at him. “Thanks… Aizawa.” 

“Uh… Hate to interrupt, but… who’s Harry Potter?” Hizashi asked, causing the two to look at him in shock for a moment before both Aizawa and Izuku burst out into laughter and chuckles. 

The First Task had Shouta on edge. They’d already figured out that they were supposed to fight or evade Dragons—a stupid idea. Honestly, there was a reason why he was far too happy to leave this backwards cultish world behind. Shouta had read the rules front and back, memorized them and committed them to memory. He knew his Problem Child did the same. 

That was why they were both grinning when Izuku was called in to face the Hungarian Horntail. The rules said that the only thing a wizard could bring with them was a wand or staff. 

It said nothing about Quirks. 

Shouta would never get tired of seeing the Full Cowling—now up to a whopping 22.1%... had he managed to make it go up by another .1%?! Izuku didn’t even need to pull on all of it. The moment the green lightning crackled around the child, the dragon stilled. 

It stiffened and eyed him warily, sensing the sudden danger that this tiny child posed to it, and puffed up protectively. Izuku dodged the barrage of flames easily, seeming to vanish from sight before reappearing at the nest. He wasted no time in snatching the golden egg and reappearing at the gateway before the dragon had even stopped the torrent of flames. 

The crowd stared in shock, unable to comprehend what they just saw. Nobody even considered the possibility that he’d used a Quirk—after all, it was very common knowledge that having a Quirk meant you were a muggle or a Squib. 

Instead, they were gasping in awe and wondering what kind of magic he’d used. Shouta couldn’t help but snort in amusement at that.

The second task wasn’t that difficult. Izuku had to rescue someone from under the surface of the Black Lake, and this time he really couldn’t get away with focusing only on his Quirk. As a feline animagus, the thought of water made him frown, but apparently someone important to him was down there. He couldn’t fathom who, though, as Aizawa and Hizashi were both standing on the sidelines. According to Aizawa, someone had attempted to stun him the other day, but ultimately failed and got wrapped up in his Capture Weapon. He’d sent them off to a magical holding cell in Japan for attacking a pro. 

Izuku was sorely disappointed to learn it wasn’t Snape. Oh well. There was always next time, after all. 

He had used a potion that Aizawa had taught him—encouraged him to experiment with, actually—that converted the hydrogen and oxygen atoms in the water into something breathable without transforming him into a fish. He was pretty proud of it, honestly, especially since it didn’t taste horrible. 

He still thought it was stupid that he had to dive into the lake in February . In Scotland . Fuck this stupid tournament. 

The person at the lakebed happened to be Draco—his old somewhat friend from his first two years of schooling. He supposed it was a good effort, and the poor kid didn’t deserve to drown —Izuku was training to be a hero after all, he couldn’t just leave him!—so he hoisted the pompous brat up to the surface. 

Aizawa and Hizashi were waiting with a spell-warmed towel and a heated blanket and a cup of hot chocolate. Izuku couldn’t help but grin. 

The Third Task gave Izuku a really bad feeling. Aizawa had confessed as much too, so he insisted on giving Izuku an emergency portkey just in case . Not only would it teleport him if he pushed a little magic into it, but it had a dual verbal command that’d teleport any living beings within a certain radius if he accidentally dropped it or something. A failsafe within a failsafe, Aizawa had called it. 

It made Izuku feel much safer. 

He was never more grateful for his teacher’s paranoia than he was when that Triwizard cup took him to an old graveyard. He was also very glad that his Full Cowling—which had made the wizards frown at how ‘unfair’ this ‘spell’ made things—had him grabbing the cup moments before Cedric could touch it. 

Unfortunately, the stunner blindsided him, and he wasn’t able to get out of his restraints quickly enough to stop a rat-like man— Peter Pettigrew Izuku recognized from his dad’s photos, the man who had killed his biological parents and broken his dad’s trust—from resurrecting Voldemort. 

If Izuku were anybody else from Wizarding Britain, the man before him would have him trembling in fear. But this was Izuku . UA’s resident trouble magnet , the kid who faced down Shigaraki, Nomu, Stain , Muscular for goodness sake! No, he wasn’t scared. If anything, he was severely underwhelmed.

That wasn’t to say that he wasn’t taking the man before him seriously—because he knew the man was known for his psychotic ways and powerful magic—but he really needed to work on his intimidation factor, because come on . Bald head and no nose? Bakugo had more intimidation when he was sopping wet. 

The man called the other Death Eaters, and Izuku was released from his bindings. The SOS portkey had fallen when he’d been knocked out, and he needed to find it. If he activated it verbally while out of range, it would vanish and take his only escape with it. 

He spotted it as he and Voldemort circled one another. In that same moment of distraction, he got his first taste of the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was beyond anything he’d felt, despite his unreal tolerance for it. Perhaps it was that same pain tolerance that had Izuku on his feet mere seconds after the spell let up. He dove for the portkey, shouting the keyword. “PLUS ULTRA!” 

Shouta was worried when Izuku went into that maze. His worry turned to near panic when the hedges lowered and the center was empty—no victor, and no cup. His phone beeped to let him know that Izuku had one out of range, and his gut rolled . 

So really, Shouta should’ve expected his Problem Child’s luck to strike. Even still, he found himself surprised when the emergency portkey that Shouta had given his son student brought not just the child, but half a dozen Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. 

Honestly, how could one kid find so much trouble ?! 

“POTTER!” Voldemort shouted in rage as he pointed his wand towards his Problem Child. 

People were screaming, panicking to get away. But all Shouta saw was that yew wand pointed at the student he saw as his son. 

His feet moved before he had the chance to think. (Totally tempted to AK Aizawa here and have Hizashi cry out in agony. :) But I’m nice, so I won’t. But know it was considered .) 

Shouta’s Capture Weapon pulled his kid out of the way just in time to avoid his mother’s favored spell. Speaking of… 

“ You .” the woman who stood beside Voldemort spat, eyes crazed with over a decade of dementor exposure. “I should’ve killed you like the useless scum you are!” 

“You know this… muggle?” Voldemort rose an eyebrow. 

“I’d say it’s a pleasure to see you again, mother , but I don’t make it a habit to lie.” Shouta smirked as several people choked. “Oh, she didn’t tell you? Her son, Felis Lestrange? Yeah, he’s a Squib.” 

Izuku shot him a look. “I’m sorry you had to put up with that.” He whispered, and if they’d been in a calmer setting, Shouta would’ve smirked. “I guess that makes us cousins? Sirius Black is my blood-adopted dad.” 

Shouta shook his head with a grin. The fact that he had an actual blood relation to his Problem Child absolutely did not make his eyes sparkle. Hizashi, you’re imagining things. 

Sorry for leaving it there, but that's as far as I got at that point. :P