Z.R. Stein

One Day in King's Row — an Overwatch/Harry Potter crossover AU fic.

I do not own the characters to either series in any way.

So, I just happened to notice the criminally low number of Overwatch crossovers. Have you guys even seen the cinematic trailers? Story gold, those are. Why are there not like, several hundred more crossovers?

Anyways, this is going to be the good old trope, "Harry is saved and raised by person x" which has been done a thousand times before (hey, if it ain't broke. Some of my favorite fics of all time use that trope.)

This is an alternative!Parent fic, with "Greater Good" Dumbledore (and an extra dash of manipulation), and with some major changes to HP canon and both series' timelines.

The modern HP timeline in particular has been moved forward by nearly a century. So, wizarding culture is going to be a little bit different, as more muggle inventions have seeped into their lives. Now, they won't be using anything modern, by any means; I just wanted to show what almost a hundred years' difference would have on a culture, even one as steeped in the past as the Wizarding World. They'll still be using brooms and reading physical books, but quills will be replaced by magical fountain pens, horse (or thestral) drawn carriages will become magic-fuelled automobiles from the early to mid 1900s, black and white wizarding movies will exist, and fashion will be different. Somewhat.

Considering that Muggles have flying trucks and live in cities made of hard light (seriously, the Indians in the Overwatchverse live in a city made of hard light, look it up on the wikia), I don't consider the wizarding world to be that caught up. I also didn't want to just give you guys the same old same old HP world, and 80 years is a long time.

Officially, the HP timeline has been moved forwards by, yes, 80 years, while the Overwatch Timeline has been altered slightly to actually work with what I have planned. I know that this timeline will be very confusing, especially when you add on Overwatch, so here is a helpful little guide:

2040: James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Snape are born.

2045: The First Omnic Crisis begins.

2046: Overwatch is formed to combat the Omnic threat. The original team consists of Gabriel Reyes, Jack Morrison, Torbjörn Lindholm, Reinhardt Wilhelm, Ana Amari, and Liao.

2047: Lena Oxton, aka Tracer is born.

2050: Voldemort returns from Albania to begin his First Wizarding War.

2051: The First Omnic Crisis ends after 6 years of fighting. Overwatch becomes a global peacekeeping organization, advancing science worldwide.

2051-2058: Hogwarts years for Lily, the Marauders, and Snape.

2060: Harry Potter is born (along with Hermione, Draco Malfoy, etc.)

2061: End of the Wizarding War, Voldemort's 'Death', Death of James and Lily Potter, etc.

2062: During a test flight of the teleporting fighter Slipstream, Tracer vanishes, then reappears months later, her molecules desynchronized from the flow of time.

2063: With the help and expertise of Winston, Tracer rejoins the timestream and joins Overwatch at the age of 16, fighting crime around the world.

2069: The PETRAS act is passed, officially disbanding Overwatch. Overwatch agents go their separate ways. Lena Oxton chooses to take up residence in London.

2070: Harry Potter is 9 years old, and has a meeting in King's Row that will change his life forever…

Right, I know I didn't include everything about Overwatch, but it would have made the list insanely long if I did everyone's birth date and time they joined Overwatch and all that shit. Suffice to say that more will be expanded upon in the fic itself. Oh, and before we finally move on; yes, Tracer is going to be the one who primarily raises Harry for the two years before he goes off to Hogwarts and during his Hogwarts years. I am also bringing in Winston, and possibly one or two other Overwatch characters to be part of his small family. If you guys have any suggestions, please leave me a PM or review telling me who. Or maybe I'll hold a poll. Actually, a poll sounds good.

And this ends the horribly long author's note. Cheers, loves.

Harry Potter was cold.

This wasn't exactly unusual for him. His cupboard would often become uncomfortably chilly in the winters, and he'd spent many long nights shivering under the few ratty blankets his Aunt grudgingly gave him over the years. He had long since grown accustomed to that chill.

The cold he was feeling presently, however, was much worse than what he was typically used to. Mostly given to the fact that he was outside, his body shivering as he stood behind a dumpster, his hands rubbing together fervently as he tried to fend off the biting wintry wind. Uncle Vernon had announced that morning that he was to meet with a possible client at a fancy restaurant in King's Row. The Dursleys had had every intention of leaving him in his cupboard for the day, but for some odd reason, the door had sealed shut with Harry outside and could not be opened (Uncle Vernon had raged for nearly an hour, screaming at Harry as he used the belt to punish him for 'being a freak'. Harry was in part oddly thankful for the cold, it numbed his bruises). Missus Figg had fallen ill as well, and no one else on their street was willing to look after the 'criminally insane' boy of the Dursleys. So, with no other options, the Dursleys had carted him along, though Vernon had made it expressly clear that Harry was not to enter the restaurant. He'd told Harry an hour ago to wait outside and not cause any trouble, and that is what Harry had done; he'd squatted down, trying to conserve warmth as he rocked back in forth in the alleyway.

A noise caught his attention, jerking him out of his reverie. Harry looked to the side, eyes widening as a pile of trash further down the alleyway shifted. A small metal hand emerged from the garbage, and Harry swallowed a panicked scream. The only thing that his Aunt and Uncle hated more than his own 'freakish nature' were the Omnics. Vernon would spend entire days ranting about the 'subhuman monstrosities' that had gained sentience more than twenty years ago, and Harry had grown rather terrified of them. The telly often ran stories on Omnic murders around the world, lambasting the machines constantly. According to Uncle Vernon, Omnics hated humans, and wanted nothing more than to tear them down until they were in control. The only reason they hadn't was due to 'those Overwatch freaks', Vernon often said.

Harry watched as the hand was followed by a slim metal arm and then a smooth, metal head. It had four glowing dots on its forehead, and its 'eyes' were small and beady. Harry held his breath, waiting for the robot to obliterate him, as he was sure it would. The Omnic turned to look at him...and then began moving towards him slowly.

Harry's heart jackrabbited until it beat faster than it ever had before. He was going to die, he just knew it!

"Get away from me!" Harry yelled as he thrust out his hands in panic. A blast of force sprang from his fingertips, sending the Omnic flying into a clattering heap. Harry sagged with sudden exhaustion, the cold pressing in even more. After a moment, he recovered enough to realize what he'd done, and his panic grew even more. Oh no! Uncle Vernon had told him not to cause trouble, and he'd messed up, using his freakish powers and even coming into contact with an Omnic! Harry took one last look at the Omnic, who was struggling to stand back up, and bolted. He didn't know where he was going; he just wanted to get away. Away from the scary Omnic who probably wanted to hurt him, away from Uncle Vernon who would hurt him for sure, just...away. He ran as fast as his tiny, bruised, and cramping legs would carry him.

He didn't want to hurt anymore. He'd been in pain for as long as he could remember.

Ever since he was a small child, he'd been hated, spat upon, and degraded. He was used to it, but that didn't mean he was numb to it; he knew that he had once had a mother who loved him. He could still remember red hair and the smell of flowers, a smile and green eyes, so green that they seemed to glow.

Harry choked back a sob as he forced himself to move faster still. He wished that he could run faster, so fast that he could run back to his mother, away from the Dursleys.

He crossed the street at a full out sprint, ignoring the yells of the pedestrians and hover car drivers, his worn sneakers nearly falling off in his flight.

Harry began to feel light headed from his exertion, but years of running away from Dudley and his gang during games of 'Harry Hunting' let him continue, pushing past what a normal nine year old could do. He barrelled around a corner, skidding on a patch on ice, and slammed into something hard and unwieldy.

Harry let out a small cry of pain as he slid to the ground, his glasses flying off of his face. The bruises on his body reminded him of their existence, his run having relieved the pleasant numbness that he'd built up over the past hour. Harry groaned, blinking in pain and confusion.

"You alright there, luv?"

Harry froze. He'd crashed into a person. This was bad, this was really bad! He needed to apologise, and hope they didn't hurt him for his mistake.

"I...I'm sorry, I didn't see you there..."

Harry heard a pleasant laugh, one that was full of warmth and a certain other indefinable quality. If he had been pressed to describe it, Harry would have called it moxie.

"No worries there. Nasty patch of ice, that. Are you sure you ain't hurt, luv?"

Harry shook his head as he looked up at the speaker, squinting. He could make out a blurry, tannish brownish blob; going off of the voice, he was talking to a young woman, but beyond that, he didn't know much.

A hand intruded into his vision, coming into focus. Glove clad fingers held onto a pair of glasses.

"These came off your face when you fell."

Harry murmured his thanks, placing the glasses on his face. THe world swam into view, along with the woman that he had rammed into. She was quite young and pretty looking, in Harry's opinion. She stood a good foot taller than him, and wore a brown aviator's jacket with a strange blue device glowing in the center of her chest. On her legs she wore a pair of faded blue jeans, which were tucked into a pair of oddly streamlined boots. Her hair was brown, and somewhat spiky, and was swept up in one wave towards her left ear. She had a spray of freckles on her nose, light hazel eyes, and a button nose that was scrunched up cutely.

Harry blinked, then blinked again, mind caught in an endless loop. He, admittedly, didn't know much about the world; Vernon and Petunia had gone out of their way to keep him ignorant of most things beyond his cupboard in Little Whinging, but he still occasionally learned things off the telly or from school. The woman in front of him was one that was instantly recognizable, despite her change of wardrobe.

Harry Potter gaped as he realized that he had run into the Lena Oxton, aka Tracer, one of the most well known and admired heroes of the now defunct Overwatch. She was the public face of Britain's heroes, and was instantly recognizable to anyone who hadn't lived under a rock for the past ten years.

Harry felt his panic rising to nuclear levels as he curled into a ball. He was done. Finished. His life was over. When Uncle Vernon found out about this...

"Well now I know there's somethin' going on with you, luv. What's the matter then, ey?"

Harry shook his head, not wanting to answer.

"Come on now, I don't bite. I want to help you. Tell me, please?"

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, and he removed his head from its confinement. His own green eyes locked onto a pair of concerned hazel pupils, startling in their empathy. He swallowed.

"What's your name?"

"...H...Harry."

Lena grinned, and Harry felt his own lips twitching as well. Somehow, he couldn't help but do so; it was like the woman before him chased away unhappiness simply by existing, her grin was that infectious.

"Just Harry?"

"Uh...n-no. Harry Potter."

Lena patted him on the shoulder.

"Harry Potter, eh? That's a nice name. I'm Lena Oxton."

"Yeah...you're Tracer."

Lena laughed good naturedly as she sat down on the ground beside him, the two of them ignoring the annoyed looks that other pedestrians shot them.

"Suppose I am. Recognize me from the telly, did ya?"

Harry nodded, his gaze sliding off of Tracer to focus on the ground.

"...I'm sorry for...running into you, Miss Tracer."

"Oh, pish, don't get all worked up about that, luv. I'm tougher than I look, and call me Lena, if ya want. I'm only Tracer when I'm in uniform. Now...what's got you all wound up?"

Harry opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. He didn't know where to start; he was still afraid of being told off, hit, or otherwise abused. It was what Vernon would have done to him if he had messed up in front of his Uncle.

Lena's eyes encouraged him to talk, a small, gentle smile on her face; so Harry began, starting and stopping but managing to speak.

"I...I was running away from an Omnic...see I was...my Uncle had told me to wait outside the restaurant and not cause trouble. So...I-I tried to be a good boy and not be freak, but then there was the Omnic and...m-my Uncle, he doesn't like Omnics, and a-ater everything I've seen on the telly I was so scared and I did something that made the Omnic fly away...a-and then I was just trying to run away and I-I just kind of...panicked. A-and that's...that's about it, I guess."

Harry looked up, and was relieved to see no snarl or hard expression on Lena's face, no sign of an impending explosion like Vernon would have had on his face; that same small smile was still present, but it had changed slightly. Some of the energy and light had gone, as if stolen away by Harry's words.

"Your Uncle...what's his name, luv?"

"V-Vernon. Vernon Dursley. A-and my Aunt's name is Petunia."

Lena nodded, and held out a hand to Harry.

"Well, I think they can keep for a little while longer. Wouldn't want to spoil their dinner, now would we? Why don't you come with me, I'll get ya warmed up, luv."

Harry shook his head.

"I can't, Uncle Vernon will get mad if I'm not back, and I—"

Lena held up a hand, halting his babbling.

"Don't you worry, Harry, I'll have a talk with them, ey?"

"But they don't like people like you...Uncle Vernon says that you're all...uh...n-nevermind."

Tracer's expression didn't change, but Harry thought he could feel a change in the air, a tense energy that hadn't been there before.

"I've met his type before, Harry. I know how to deal with em. I'm not going to leave you out here to freeze, luv, so...please...let me help. I promise I'll keep ya safe, Harry. Let's go and get warmed up back at my flat, yeah?"

Harry hesitated. He didn't want to be a burden on this lady, this superhero. She was one of the nicest people he'd ever met, and he was nothing but a burden.

As if sensing his thoughts, Tracer waggled an eyebrow and said "I have some absolutely bloody brilliant hot cocoa back at my place. I'll let ya have a cuppa if ya come wiiiith." She extended out the with teasingly, and Harry was assaulted by an image of a steaming cup of hot chocolate with dozens of marshmallows bobbing around inside. He'd only had a treat like that twice in his life, and it had always been the cold dregs of whatever Dudley didn't want.

Harry took Lena's hand not a moment later, and the older woman's smile widened, exuding an innocent joy that Harry couldn't help but emulate somewhat.

"Right then, I'll make ya some when we get to my flat. A nice big mug, hmm?"

. . .

Lena Oxton, aka Tracer, smiled down at the young boy sleeping on her couch. After quaffing down a large mug of premium hot cocoa, Harry had promptly passed out, the combination of warm beverage and comfortable seat sending him into a deep sleep before he could even make a single protest. She hoped he slept well; he deserved it after what he'd been through.

Lena's smile changed into a snarl. If there was one thing she absolutely hated, it was people who abused children. She'd seen a lot of terrible things in her time with Overwatch: murderers, rapists, druggies, the whole nine yards of the scum of humanity. She'd joined the organization after the Omnic Crisis, during its peacekeeping days, and had concentrated her efforts towards fighting crime around the world alongside other agents. The cases involving children had left the deepest impressions on her; she remembered one mission to Nairobi where they had been assigned to rescue a troop of child soldiers that had been drafted into the African Liberation Front. Those small, dead faces had haunted her dreams for months afterwards.

She was determined to see Harry's guardians brought to justice. How anyone could mistreat such a sweet child was beyond her.

Tracer pulled out her communicator. Overwatch may have been shut down, but that didn't mean its members didn't keep in contact with each other. She wanted to preemptively clear as many obstacles out of her path before throwing these despicable Dursleys behind bars. And she knew just the person to call to get that done.

"Lena, colour me surprised! It's been a few weeks since you last called. How are you doing, my girl?"

Lena grinned; she couldn't help it. That voice always reminded her of better times.

"Winston, I'm doing quite alright. A bit bored, but I suppose that's to be expected, mmm?"

A low chuckle washed through the speakers, Winton's amusement rendered in his full baritone voice.

"You never were the type to sit in one place, Lena. So, what can this old ape do for you today? You aren't in trouble again, are you?"

Lena briefly considered taking umbrage at Winston's use of the word again, but decided to ignore it. It was kinda true, she did get into more trouble than was healthy for the average person.

"I'm not, no. I've got someone here at my flat who might very well be. A cute little sprog by the name of Harry Potter. I think his relatives might be abusin' him, Winston."

Lena knew that she had Winston's attention with that line. The massive gorilla was a big softie at heart when it came to kids, whether they were human, ape, or Omnic. The low growl that came through the speakers confirmed her thoughts.

"Hmph. And I assume you're calling to make sure they get put away, eh?"

"If they really are doing that to him, then yes. I don't want any chance of them gettin' out of the net. You should 'ave seen him, Winston. 'E ran into me at full speed like a bat out of hell, then froze up in terror as soon as he realized he'd hit someone. I caught a glimpse of a few nasty looking bruises when he was climbed up my stairs too. And according to him, his Uncle told 'im to wait outside in freezin' weather and not do anythin' freakish. For an hour!"

Lena cut herself off before she could go on a rant. She heard the sounds of keys clacking over the communicator.

"Hmmm, Harry Potter, Harry Potter. Ah, here we are. Born to Lily and James Potter, both deceased, placed with the mother's sister, Petunia. Currently resides in Little Whinging, Surrey, and attends the local school alongside his cousin, Dudley. My word, is that a child or an overweight orangutan? Anyways...his file is bit sparse, I'll need to do some digging. Athena?"

Lena heard a second voice come through the speakers, a smooth feminine tone that she recognized as Winston's AI companion.

"Yes Winston?"

"Put the shield generator test on hold for now, I need to look into this. Lena, call me back tomorrow, I should have all the necessary information by then."

Lena said goodbye and hung up, knowing well how Winston got when he was researching. He likely wouldn't stop until he had everything he needed, pulling an all nighter on the backs of countless bananas and jars of peanut butter.

Sliding her communicator back into her pocket, Lena ruffled Harry's hair, her lips quirking into a smile as she watched the boy sleep.

"Don't worry luv. A promise is a promise. And I don't intend on going back on my word."

And here concludes the first chapter of One Day in King's Row. And I know some people are going to point out that this is going to be a story that I am working on at the same time as three others. However, I am putting Avengers from Earthland on Hiatus for the moment (I have completely lost inspiration to write that fic), so there will only be three at a time.

Chapters will get longer, the starting chapter is always my shortest one. And expect sporadic updates, I write when I can, but I don't always have the time or inspiration necessary.