an: would you believe i planned on getting this out as soon as volume 7 came out? of course you would, i would too – i normally release chapters much later than i intended to.

disclaimer: least you got it out in the same month this time.

an: very true! this fic is pretty heavily inspired, at least for this (and maybe the next) chapter, by the fic 'Ruby Potter' by hunter81095. there are a few substantial differences, some apparent here and some i have planned for later down the line. i still made ruby fem!harry, something i thought i'd never make a fic about. ah well, it be like that sometimes. take it away, disclaimer!

Disclaimer: RWBY was created by Monty Oum and is property of Rooster Teeth, Harry Potter (and the Goblet of Fire specifically) is a creation of J.K. Rowling. The author owns neither.

Earth

Potter Residence

Godric's Hollow, Devon, UK

10:32 PM Local Time

October 31, 1980

Lily Potter was a strong woman, a determined woman, a damned stubborn one when she wanted to be, and one of iron will. And she'd need every bit of strength she had now.

Her ears were still ringing from the boom of the Killing Curse that that thing (she refused to call him a man, much less a human, and would not be cowed into referring to the 'Dark Lord' as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named) had used on her husband when he fired off a Bombarda strong enough to shatter not only the defensive spells on the baby's room, but the reinforced stone masonry the spells were placed upon. Little Harriet, not quite a year and a third, started to cry.

The thing that was once Tom Riddle stepped through the hole he had just made, wand pointing straight at Lily. "Stand aside, and you shall live."

"Never! Take me, not-"

The rest of her retort was cut off as Voldemort cast a silent spell and whipped her into a wall with a flick of his wrist. He did not smile, as he usually did, when he heard the crack of bones snapping from the force.

"That was not a question, Mudblood." Lily could only groan in pain and defiance, raising her wand – for the last time – at Voldemort. The baby cried louder.

Voldemort sighed and fired off a Stunning spell at Lily, assuming that would silence her.

He then turned to the cradle. Here, at last, was his target. Here, at last, would there be nothing in his way. Two words, one rapier's thrust, and it would be over.

He heard Lily stand up before he saw her do so, and sighed.

"This is my last warning," he said as he deflected a Stunning spell off to the side. Lily snarled, but her strength was fading. He fired a second Stunning spell, then turned back to the cradle.

Again, the Potter matron rose to defend her daughter. This time Voldemort didn't even pause, firing off a Killing Curse that smashed Lily's body into the far wall. He brushed a bit of dust off his robe, and approached the infant.

"Now that there are no more interruptions..."

He raised his wand, and…

There are many things the Wizarding World does not know about Horcruxes, and the effect making one, let alone several, has on one's magic. Rightly so, as Horcruxes are not only about the Darkest of Dark things one can do magically, they are downright dangerous to create even if their creation was not inherently vile. There were things even the Dark Lord did not know, and if he knew them then perhaps he would have stopped at five.

As it was, he fired off one last Killing Curse, and had not a fraction of a second to react when it simply bounced off Harriet. He did not have time to scream as his fragmented soul shattered entirely, nor did he have time to react as the damage to his soul proved too great for his body to handle. As his robes and wand dropped to the ground, he did not see what became of Harriet Potter as the violent magical reaction blew out the walls and roof of the Potter estate with the force of a thunderclap.

But then again, neither would anyone else, and no one, not even Albus Dumbledore, would learn what happened to Harriet for the next fourteen years. All they knew was that somehow, somewhere, she was alive.

Remnant

Beacon Academy, Vale

1st Year Dormitories Room 711

1:32 PM Local Time

July 1, 80 PB

After a truly chaotic week – chasing career criminals, stopping a runaway train, fending off a Grimm invasion – Team RWBY, along with many other students of Beacon, had very much earned a break. The fact that July 1st was the last day of scheduled classes for first years had nothing to do with it.

With an almost holy reverence, Ruby was slowly lowering her hanging bunk bed until its legs came to rest on the bed of Weiss below it. When it finally did so, she let go of the rope and gave it a tearful salute with one hand, and played a mournful trumpet melody from her scroll with the other.

Weiss could only wonder how she ever doubted Ruby and Yang were related.

"Ruby," she said, unpinching the bridge of her nose, "the janitors will only need the room for six hours. Not even half a day! There are plenty of things to do in Vale for us to occupy ourselves until then."

"But it won't be the same," whined the diminutive leader of the team. "They'll replace everything but the furniture and the carpet! I heard from some third years that sometimes they even repaint the room!"

"They only do that to third year rooms," replied Weiss, "and I'm sure you'll have plenty of time over the summer to drool all over the new pillowcases."

"Hey!" shot back the aforementioned leader. "I do not drool!"

"Yes you do," replied the rest of her team simultaneously, even Yang. Ruby lowered her head in defeat, but not before giving her sister a half-serious 'et tu, Brute' glare.

"Fine… I guess I do need some gun oil… maybe a new whetstone… a new peening anvil would be nice..." Mumble mumble mumble. She could barely talk to people she didn't know well, but once Ruby started talking about weapons, it was a herculean effort to get her to stop. But Yang was up to the task, and did so with a hand on her little sister's shoulder.

"We'll make a day of it. I'm sure there are things other than maintenance equipment you need to buy, anyway."

"We all need to buy, more like it," said Weiss. "I don't think any of us have had time to properly go shopping in almost a month."

"Right," said Yang. "I'm almost out of shampoo, and if I am, so are you two," she finished as her eyes turned to Weiss and Blake.

"I could use some new books," said the black-haired Faunus.

"Then it's settled," said Ruby. "Team RWBY shopping plan meeting… adjourned!"

Earth

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Moray, Scotland, UK

6:53 PM Local Time

October 31, 1994 AD

Albus Dumbledore was a patient man. When Ruby Potter's body failed to be present within the ruins of the Potter Estate, he had feared the worst – and was greatly relieved to find the one of the two Certain Devices meant to detect the life of said girl (and one other) was intact and functioning normally. The girl was alive, and that was indisputable enough that people were calling her The Vanished Girl as much as they were calling her The Girl Who Lived. Sure, all means of finding where she was had proven fruitless, but she was alive, and if the Certain Device was any indication, perfectly healthy for a fifteen-year-old, though on occasion it had sent the Order of the Phoenix into a helpless panic when it indicated her to be in great danger.

Thankfully for their (and as a result, his) sanity, there was another person who had the potential of being a subject of a Certain Prophecy. The Potter's daughter's disappearance confirmed that He Who Must Not Be Named did not select him as his rival, yes, but most, not even the Death Eaters, did not know that, let alone that there was a prophecy.

This was excellent, for two reasons. Firstly, with no actual magical connection to Voldemort, Neville Longbottom most certainly would not need to die to fulfill the terms of the prophecy. Second, while his parents may have been a target at one point, they had (unfortunately) been neutralized as threats to the Death Eaters, and in part because of this said remnants of He Who Must Not Be Named's forces hardly considered Neville a threat.

And there was much someone 'considered hardly a threat' could do. He had learned that much in the last war. And since the prophecy did not refer to him, he could be more open on what kind of threat Voldemort was. What kind of threat his forces were.

Not completely open, mind you, much as Albus detested it. He had had enough of keeping secrets from people, let alone children, in the last two wars.

Perhaps one day he could actually stop.

As he entered the Great Hall, he was reminded of yet another secret he was keeping from Neville and, well, most of the staff. One that, while earth-shattering, was much more harmless in nature: A Death Eater had managed to worm their way into the staff of the Triwizard Tournament being held this year, and gotten it into their heads that the Goblet of Fire packed enough of a magical punch to draw Harriet Potter out of whatever hiding place had befuddled every other method of finding her known to magic. Dumbledore had decided almost as soon as he had heard it that he would let it come to pass. If it failed, then no harm no foul, and if it worked?

Something made him sincerely doubt that Harriet Potter would be interested in helping the Death Eaters.

Remnant

Rotating Bolt, Vale

2:53 Local Time

July 1, 80 PB

If there was a Mecca for weapon enthusiasts in Vale, it was the enormous store known as the Rotating Bolt. At almost one million square feet of retail space, and nearly double that if you included the printing presses (they published their own magazine), museum, and museum gift shop. By sheer volume of wares, let alone their variety, it was the largest weapon and equipment store on the entire continent of Sanus, if not the world.

Ruby was in paradise, or at least in her element. Her cart was already half-full of everything from all-purpose oil to zeroing equipment. Cartridges, of course, occupied the lion's share of the cart by volume, partly due to Crescent Rose being .50, partly due to Ember Cecilia being a 12-gauge. Gambol Shroud's 9mm cartridges were more numerous, but being several times smaller they took up far less space. Dust was conspicuously absent, as due to a gentleman's agreement with the SDC, the Rotating Bolt did not sell Dust.

And even with all the things in her cart, she was still looking around for more things to add to it. While Blake and Yang seemed fine with this, though for different reasons, Weiss was growing a bit tired of her team leader's antics.

"Ruby," she said calmly, "you have enough supplies in that cart to last a whole semester! Just what are you expecting us to run into?"

"I don't know," admitted Ruby with a pair of magazines (of the paper sort) folded under one arm, "I've just got this feeling. Like something's going to happen today..."

Weiss sighed. "Ruby, the only thing that's going to happen today is you're going to spend four digits' worth of Lien if your shopping spree continues."

Ruby stopped cold, looked at her shopping cart, looked at the price tags on some of the items in it, and winced. She put on her best puppy dog eyes and turned to Weiss, who-

"Absolutely not."

"Weiss!" She stopped again as a forklift beeped past, carrying smoothbore barrels by the boxload on pallets.

"No!" interjected Weiss, not looking Ruby in the eyes. "As your partner and friend, as well as the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, I will not let you fall into the trap of relying on others to finance your endeavors!"

"I'll help pay for it," said Yang. Weiss turned to her, betrayal in her eyes. She opened her mouth and-

"So will I," said Blake.

Ruby looked at her partner with more than a hint of smugness. Sighing, Weiss admits her consent by handing Ruby a stack of Liens from her own wallet, taking care not to accidentally hand her a black one.

"Just… don't spend all of it, Ruby." Ruby gave a mock salute and continued on her way, humming out a hard rock tune as she turned to the paint aisle. She paused, just for a moment, as she heard a fire-like roaring in the background. But with all the noise in Rotating Bolt, it could have been anything, so she shrugged it off and continued down the aisle. The muffled voices in her ears didn't bother her much either, for much the same reason.

Earth

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

7:08 Local Time

October 31, 1994

It had certainly been an interesting twenty-four hours, thought Hermione Granger. First was the entire thing with the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arriving. And Ron being unable to decide between gawking at Victor Krum and an alleged half-Veela, whom she was starting to think was more than alleged based on how she made most students act like Neville did around girls half that attractive.

Then came the Goblet itself, a towering goblet-shaped chunk of wood that constantly spat nearly transparent blue fire. She had been provided with an entertaining demonstration of Dumbledore's warding abilities when the Age Line he drew around the Goblet fired Fred and George at the Hall's entrance door like a cannon, white beards trailing behind them like the tail of a meteor. They were not the first, according to Dumbledore, and according to hearsay from the other Hogwarts students, they were certainly not the last.

Then there was the visit to Hagrid later in the day, who had seen enough in the Beuxbatons Headmistress to put on a (hideous) hairy brown suit, (an excessive amount of) hair gel (motorcycle axle grease), and (noxious volumes of) something some prat had told the poor trusting Hagrid was eau de cologne but was clearly made from rotten fruit. Even after washing himself, there was still enough of it on him to smell from halfway across the school grounds.

And now, at last, the Goblet was ready to announce those it had selected.

"Now, when the champions' names are called," said Dumbledore at a different seat than his usual one (as it was now occupied by the Goblet), "I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" - he gestured to said door with a hand - "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

A great sweep of the Headmaster's wand, and all the candles outside of pumpkins extinguished themselves. The flames from the Goblet were now clearly visible, a blue-white blaze that seemed to pulse with life.

"Any second now," said Lee Jordan a few seats down as the seconds passed. He didn't have to wait much longer as the Goblet's flames shifted to crimson, sparks flying from the rim. A tongue of flame spat out a charred bit of parchment, which Dumbledore caught at arm's length.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he announced clearly, "will be Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there," yelled Ron as cheers swept the Hall. The Quidditch ace rose from his seat at the Slytherin table and slouched up towards Dumbledore. Once there, he turned towards the staff door and vanished through it.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff loud enough that it was obvious he was being loud enough to be heard, "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping soon died down, and within seconds the Goblet's fire again turned red, and out came another bit of parchment, this one with a bit more force and flourish than the last.

"The champion for Beauxbatons… is Fleur Delacour!"

"It's her, Ron!" shouted Neville as the probably-half-Veela rose to her feet and swept her way between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables to the staff table. Neville was an odd sort. Shy to a fault, jumpy and at the surface level a coward, he had become Hermione's first friend at Hogwarts largely because he had been just as lonely as she was, but for vastly different reasons. Even she had thought he was a scaredy-cat at first.

Three years of experience had crushed any such notions of the boy – just like her, he was Gryffindor to the core. It just took a bit of coaxing to get his spine to reveal itself.

"They're all disappointed," Hermione said over the noise, nodding towards the remainder of the French school's party. A suitably English understatement, several of the Beauxbatons girls were in tears, one crying into the shoulder of one of the Beauxbatons boys.

The cheering lasted longer, and the Goblet took shorter to announce the next champion. A burst of red fire shot the third bit of parchment high into the air, and it landed neatly on the remnants of Dumbledore's pumpkin pie.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

Ron's complaint was drowned out by the sheer volume of noise from the table next over, as the entirety of Hufflepuff stood up to cheer their Seeker as he walked up to the table. It didn't die down for several minutes, by which time even some of the Gryffindors had begun to and stopped their begrudging clapping in camaraderie.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore said as the badgers finally quieted down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count on all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute a very real–"

Dumbledore stopped abruptly, and it was clear why.

The Goblet had again turned red, this time emitting sparks like a roman candle. A gout of flame fired the fourth and final parchment almost to the ceiling, and Dumbledore snatched it out of the air before it landed. He cleared his throat and announced –

"Harriet Potter."

The Great Hall was silent, for all of a second, as soon the red fire rose to the ceiling in an incredible roar, covering the ceiling in gray-black smoke. Hermione was reminded of a rocket engine as Flitwick waved his wand to open the Great Hall's windows so the smoke had somewhere to escape to. The blaze pulsed weak and strong, weak and strong, weak and strong again, then intensified greatly as shadows rose up, up, up, and down as people. Four girls, each in distinct costumes – clearly not uniforms – fell from their arc roughly in the center of the Hall. They were soon followed by a shower of paint cans, some wooden pallets, and at last a beet red shopping trolley full of various dangerous things, which sailed over everyone's heads and collided with the doors of the Great Hall with a tremendous crash, spilling boxes and little brass bullets everywhere.

Bullets? thought Hermione incredulously as the smallest and youngest-looking of them rubbed her head and sat up. Her eyes – like polished silver – scanned the room before settling on the Goblet and Dumbledore to the left of it. He smiled, as the four girls got up. The short one frowned, and the others followed in turn.

"Harriet Potter? Welcome, to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

"Who's Harriet Potter?" asked the short girl.

an: and that's that for chapter one! i do intend for people from remnant besides team rwby to eventually make their way to scotland, but that won't happen for at least a few chapters, possibly closer to when the first task takes place. i have a pretty good idea as to how that is, though events in volume 7 may change drastically how ozpin would go about doing it. who knows. this is the second of three (MAYBE four) harry potter fics i have planned, and the first of two rwby fics i have planned. the next hp fic will be a hellsing crossover that will skip straight to the potterhead national sport of umbridge bashing, and the next rwby fic will probably be a call of duty crossover. might make it a challenge as well/instead though.