My take on the Twin!Boy Who Lived fic. Two-shot inspired by Doctor Who Series 6 episode A Good Man Goes to War, and crossed over with Marvel and Doctor Who. Originally going to be made into a longer fic, but I thought this would be best as a two-Shot. Maybe prequels and sequels will follow. Maybe. And don't worry if you're confused... you're meant to be.

When a Good Man Goes to War

"I surrender," the Boy Who Lived, Michael Potter, son of Lily Potter and James Potter, said, breaking the silence – standing between Dumbledore and Voldemort. His gaze glanced at several Death Eaters, who were massacring innocent children caught in the Great Hall. "I surrender."

"Michael, No!" protested Ginny Weasley. "You can't do this!"

"I know what I'm doing," Michael responded confidently, letting the wand drop to the floor. "Go on and kill me, Lord... Voldemort. Kill me if it means that these people will live."

There was a shocked silence around the Great Hall, as Michael used Lord Voldemort's title for the first time. Everybody knew that Michael, and all of the Potters, called him by his name – You-Know-Who. But, Harry had taught him – fear of the name increases fear of the thing itself. Harry, the twin he had neglected, abused. The twin – who had disappeared in Fourth year, never to return. Until last night. The night, when he brought warnings to Michael – and told him of the plan. And, incredibly – however ridiculous it sounded at first, Michael was agreeing with it.

Even if it meant allowing Tom Marvalo Riddle to gloat at Michael and the defenders, and the Boy Who Lived to be humiliated in front of the entire school of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry.

His wand crashed to the floor, the sound emitting could be heard amongst the silence. But the silence only lasted a minute, at most – before Voldemort laughed. The Dark Lord actually laughed, bringing his own wand to bear, and pointing it at Michael. "Given up already, Potter? I was expecting you to have some fight left in you after all. But no matter, it saves me from spilling more magical blood. I am glad you chose to die for yourself – rather than let others die for you."

Michael flinched, his pride wounded, but he could do nothing. He was not going to do anything – if he was following what Harry had told him to do in the first place. "Stop with the pleasantries, Voldemort. If you're going to kill me, don't gloat and just do it."

Voldemort smiled a wicked smile, glancing towards the Death Eaters, the Death Eaters – who nobody to this day, knew the identity of. They hadn't known during the last war, apart from one or two minor ones that lay captured in Azkaban, and now – they still didn't know.

"Oh, my boy – if only you could escape that easily," Voldemort said with a smile, rotating his wand through his fingers. "But now, I'm in charge. I think, I ought to show you who my followers are. At long last, the Death Eaters will be revealed to the public world. My loyal followers. Come forward. Three of you. You know who you are."

Three Death Eaters stepped forward, in perfect unison. They were cloaked, and their masks looked directly at the defenders, cut off – outmanoeuvred and outnumbered. There was no escape. Michael could only hope and pray that whatever Harry was going to do, he was going to do it soon. Despite himself living still, he didn't want to die.

"Now, these are my Death Eaters," continued Voldemort. "My loyal minions. They will follow me... anywhere. They will do what I command. And, before Potter is dead, I'd like you to see that you were all right, Dumbledore – you old fool. You were right about Death Eaters having infiltrated the Ministry."

There were several shocked gasps from the younger students who still had the naivety to believe that the Ministry was all powerful. "First of all, I would like to introduce a very familiar face to most of you. Lucius Malfoy, one of the Minister's most skilled and loyal Advisors."

The hood was off, revealing the pale-haired form of Lucius Malfoy, a grim smile on his face, observing... observing everybody, his eyes darting around the school for possible threats. But, there was none. Both sides had agreed an unofficial and uneasy truce, that would no doubt – only last until Voldemort had finished his speech.

"Second," Voldemort continued, "I would like to introduce to you all the next member of my Death Eater forces... Walden McNair, one of the Minister's Chief Executioners."

McNair's hood was thrown off by the man, allowing Hogwarts to see his ugly, unattractive face.

"And, finally – my most valued of all Death Eaters," explained Voldemort. "The one who is most loyal. The one who has never let me down and I believe – has infiltrated the school under my command, and has even shared a bed with the unknowing Boy Who Lived."

Michael looked embarrassed, but knew that this was where Harry would introduce himself. He just knew. He couldn't let them down, especially after he had helped Michael deal with Bellatrix Lestrange, under the Polyjuice disguise as Michael's girlfriend, and formerly – Harry Potter's only friend, Hermione Granger. Voldemort couldn't have been kept up to date on Bellatrix's positions, or else he would know that she was no longer an operative. Maybe – he had been so convinced that she was undefeatable.

"Bellatrix Lestrange!" exclaimed Voldemort, triumphantly - and the hood was flicked back, dangling at the neck of the very masculine and very younger teenage body that stood there, a broad smile on his face.

"Hello Hogwarts, Guess Who?" Harry James Potter, exclaimed, waving to the shocked Death Eaters and students alike, who were even more stunned by this than they had been by Voldemort attacking the place that held the only man that he had ever feared, Albus Dumbledore, and the fact that Michael Potter had surrendered before even starting to duel Voldemort. Stepping up in front of the speechless Voldemort, he turned, the Death Eater hood cast down, to take in the fighters, who still held their uneasy truce, pausing slightly before continuing. "Yep – it's me, Harry Potter. And to answer your question, no I'm not Bellatrix Lestrange – the real Bellatrix Lestrange is currently held in a prison. A very secure prison, I believe it's called the Stormcage, the last time I checked. She won't be getting out of there."

"But anyway, I digress," he said, holding up both hands, waving them. "Please, point a wand at me if it helps you relax. You're only wizards."

The Death Eaters leapt into action, one-by-one, raising their wands at Harry. Even some of the defenders of Hogwarts pointed wands at him, Dumbledore included. Amongst the crowd, Michael Potter merely stood there, smiling – watching the whole scene play out before his eyes. "Now then, Tommy-Boy! Before you or one of your minions decides to end my life, here's a quick history lesson."

As he spoke, he lifted his hands upwards towards the castle lights, the eyes of the combatants following his movement. "You see these lights. These are old lights. Very old lights that have been there since the time of Hogwarts herself."

"We all know that, Potter, even the first year Mudbloods" Voldemort snapped, restraining his wand, wondering what the boy could possibly have to say about the Hogwarts lights. "What is your point?"

"Hold on a minute, Tommy-Boy, I'm getting there," said Harry, triumphantly, a broad grin on his face. "My point is, this. You see, everybody believes these lights are magical. I mean, it would make sense right? Magical school, magical people, therefore – magical lights. But, here's the catch. They're not magical. In fact, they're completely the opposite of magical anything! They are... lights made out of technology! I know magic is wide and varied, but really, matching the exact weather outside at all times?"

Everybody was still speechless. If this intruder was brave enough to come and stand, right in front of Voldemort's Death Eaters, without even a wand, he was clearly brave enough, or mad enough – to have something planned. And that was what seemingly kept the Hogwarts occupants, Death Eater and defender alike, silent. "Yep, they're controlled by technology. The stuff that Muggles made. Which, here's the kicker. How can technology work when there are wards put up to make it not work? Everybody knows this. Muggle things don't work in Hogwarts because of the magic. Well, I'm about to disapprove that theory. Too much magic in the air was a bit, well – cheesy to be precise. But nevertheless..."

He produced a silver coloured pistol from underneath his robes, and pointed it into the skies. Several muggleborns backed away, and many (purebloods and none purebloods alike) jumped when he fired the pistol into the air. Bang! Bang!

The bullets shot upwards into the heavens of the Great Hall. "Ta, da! There goes the theory that has been uphold for a millennia, disproven in seconds by a seventeen year old boy with a pistol, attitude and balls. Oh yes, and a plan. Because, these lights have to be controlled from somewhere, right? And, right now – just for this second, the House-Elves that normally control the lights are getting their first ever holiday in several hundred years. Yep, that's right people – because these lights are now about to be controlled, just for under an hour, by Hogwarts' finest house elves. I give you, Dobby and Winky!"

His left arm shot outwards and upwards, as a familiar voice, the voice of Dobby the House Elf, filtered through the hall of Hogwarts. "Harry Potter sir wishes Dobby to press red button?"

"Yep, that's right! Big red button, Dobby!" Harry shouted, smiling, before turning back to face Voldemort. "Now then, Tommy Boy. One warning. Three minutes, forty-two seconds."

"What?" Voldemort was the first one who had spoken, other than Harry Potter – in a while. He was, for the first time in his life, confused. What had happened to Bellatrix Lestrange, and why was Potter, the twin that had run away, back here, and with the power to make even the infamous Dark Lord Voldemort himself, speechless?

That was when the Hall plunged into complete darkness, with Harry Potter ripping his Death Eater robe back on, and seemingly departing from the scene. And that, was when complete and utter pandemonium erupted within the ranks of the Death Eaters.

END OF PART ONE...

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