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A/N: The first part of the first chapter (up until Law gets on the train) has been copied with the permission of Serendipital, who wrote it under the title Flip Side. I included it here to give my story context. Originally this story was my commenting on Flip Side, then when I had thirty pages of original material Serendipital was nice enough to let me publish the story under my own name. You should check out Serendipital's profile to read their story there.
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Stupidity was contagious. Law had suspected it ever since he met Straw Hat, but for the disease to effect him? It was worse than the common cold. After all, only an idiot would swap a cyborg with Kuma of all people.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but then, all disasters start with a so-called "good idea". That one time when he used his Devil Fruit on himself, for instance. And a flesh and blood man was a lot less intimidating than an indestructible cyborg. Let the Straw Hats handle the robot, he had thought. The trouble magnets probably caused the whole thing anyway. Too bad the man had a powerful Devil Fruit at his disposal.
Law shook his head with a chuckle, the cramped muscles in his neck protesting at the small moment. Now he was flying across the ocean in a pink bubble with a battered body, and no way to move against the momentum. With his luck, he'd land in the sea and drown. If Lady Luck was feeling particularly generous, he would end up on an island with no way out. The chance of him landing somewhere beneficial was very slim, and he didn't have Straw Hat's uncanny ability to beat the odds anymore.
Law couldn't even look at the landscape to pass the time. All he could see were blurs: white blurs, blue blurs, green blurs. At this rate, he'd fly right off the map. Then he'd never make his way back to his crew, his-dare he say it-family. Whatever was left of his shriveled, sadistic heart constricted a bit at the thought. Perhaps sentimentality was contagious as well?
Either way, his crew would be nothing without him. If he didn't want them to flounder around like landed fishes, he would need to get back. They'd be sitting ducks as they waited on Saboady, and he couldn't let them commit such a pitiful act. It didn't reflect well on his image as a feared pirate captain.
Law broke out of his impromptu introspection when a tree branch nearly snapped his neck.
Shit.
His Room flew from his fingers, pushing at the pink bubble. With each mental push, the bubble expanded. It snapped back faster than he could blink. Sweat gathered on Law's brow as he concentrated harder. He just needed to break the bubble and swap himself with something. Quickly, or he'd be a bloody smear on the ground.
For all his efforts, the Room sunk into the bubble, dyeing the pink a light purple. The thump of a body against the ground drowned out Law's shout, and his mind slowly faded into oblivion.
When Law woke up, it was to a crowd of worried civilians hovering over him. He growled and pushed himself off the ground. It wasn't very polite, no, but finding himself in the foreign place hadn't done much for his mood.
He walked off, hands in his pockets, trying his best to ignore the shouts behind him. Although, he rationalized, better my eardrums ruptured than dead. It seemed Straw Hat's luck was contagious as well. Now, to see where he was.
Law's shoes clacked against the cobblestone pavement as he wandered around the square, taking in the two fountains in the middle and the tall tower ahead. An odd sort of feeling came over him when he glanced at a sign.
King's Cross Station
He frowned as he came to a stop in front of the words. A few images ran through his head, but too quick to grasp on to. Law sighed and stared bemusedly. Maybe he came across it in the North Blue? The air certainly had a bite to it. But that didn't sound right at all. Maybe…?
Law slapped a fist onto his open hand, smirking. After shoving his hands back into his pockets, he made his way inside the station and walked alongside the platform numbers.
"One," he muttered, passing the small plaque.
"Two.
"Three.
"Four.
"Five.
"Six.
"Seven.
"Eight.
"Nine." Law stopped and turned so that he was facing a wall just past the designated platform. He chuckled a bit. The adventure hadn't been very long, but it was high time he made it back home. After all, this particular wall was what brought him to the North Blue in the first place.
"Nine and Three-Quarters." He adjusted his spotted hat and calmly walked through, ready for a blast of salty air and freezing temperatures. It was ironic, then, that he got the distinct smell of smoke and the sound of a hundred shrieking children.
His ears rang in the sudden din, but Law hardly noticed it. He clenched his teeth under a calm mask, hands growing sweaty. There should have been a small island. Not a train station. Fresh air. Tall Buildings. Nota train, spewing smoke from its cursed red body.
Law held his head, groaning into the palms of his hands. That wall had been his only way out. But this time, it led to somewhere entirely different and unfamiliar, yet familiar in its own right. He just hadn't been in this station- this world- for a decade. Years ago, he'd wanted nothing more than to return here, but now, he wanted nothing less. What he wanted was to go back to his crew and train for the New World. The universe, it seemed, had an absolutely awful sense of timing.
"Oh, dear, I'm so sorry!"
It was only after the voice broke him out of his stupor that Law realized he was on the ground. He ignored the hand outstretched towards him and stood up, coming face to face with a portly woman with bright red hair.
"It was all my fault, I wasn't paying attention-" the woman blathered, averting her eyes in all directions.
"No." Law cut her off, not wanting her to embarrass herself. "It was my fault, miss." He nodded to her and turned to leave, but his arm was grabbed before he could make it more than two steps. His eyebrow twitched, but he turned to face her with a slight smile. "Yes?"
"You looked very lost, just a moment ago." The woman smiled a bit nervously. "Were you looking for someone?"
Law started to shake his head, but stopped mid-way, instead opting to outstretch his other arm for a handshake. "I'd like to know your name. If that isn't too much." The woman was tugging at his memory much like the station had.
"Of course! My name is Molly, Molly Weasley. And you are…?" Bingo. She took his hand and heartily shook it, beaming at him.
"Trafalgar Law," he replied in a drawl. "Thank you for your help, miss." He strode off towards the train, not missing, but not caring about, the slightly baffled look the woman threw him.
What better place was there than a school of magic to find a way home?
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(Serendipidal's chapter end)
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In an office stuffed with delicate whirling instruments, a device like a gyroscope began to glow a faint red.
As it sat behind a stack of books on the shelf, it's warning went unnoticed by the room's occupants.
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A dark haired man in his twenties looked out over the green landscape speeding by the window of the Hogwarts Express.
The door to his train compartment rattled and slid open, revealing a group of young boys laughing at some joke. They froze as the stranger's piercing gaze slid onto them.
"Sir, are you one of the new teachers?" the door-opener asked nervously from, not noticing his friends had run off and abandoned him.
Law smiled, and the boy flinched. "Hm, something like that."
"Right well," the student shifted from foot to foot. "I'm meeting some friends at the other end of the train, so, uh, I'll see you in at Hogwarts!"
The pirate refrained from chuckling as the boy practically ran from the compartment. His escape was so rushed, he even dropped his copy of the news.
Curious, Law picked up the paper from the floor and read the front page.
'Sirius Black Still At Large' the title blared above a picture of a scruffy looking man.
Wanted posters in the wizarding world were not as...pizzaz as the ones back home. Law's own poster was quite menacing, if he did say so himself. The one for Sirius Black, however, just made the man look in need of a shower. Perhaps some medication as well.
There was a polite knock on the compartment door, this time from a cheery looking woman pushing a trolly.
"Anything off the cart dear?" she asked.
Law stood and took his time examining the candies and snacks, before shaking his head. "Not right now." The woman nodded, and strolled away.
Making sure the compartment door was securely shut, Law weighed the money sack he had lifted from the cart in his hands, wondering what the exchange rate between sickles and beri was.
"Children sure do love their sweets," he said, running gold and silver coins through his fingers. He would feel bad about stealing money from the snack trolly, but well...pirate. It came with the territory. He settled back into his seat.
The journey from Saboady to King's Cross Station must have taken more out of the doctor than he was willing to admit, because one moment he was resting his eyes in the cozy glow of sunset and the next the train was screeching to a halt in pitch blackness.
Snapping from his fitful doze, Law looked around, a frown on his face.
Instincts screamed at him to move. Usually such feelings indicated an ambush, and when acted upon had saved his crew multiple times.
"Room," he said lowly, extending the blue light of his devil fruit power so that it just encompassed the compartment around him.
Something darker than black slithered against the glass. The lock on the door clicked, and a soulless chill crept down Law's spine. His fingers twitched in anticipation to attack.
A jumbled mess of screams- a woman, the wind, his own- rang against his ears, threatening to drown him in icy cold. Law snarled and blasted the thing back from his compartment door. It locked itself with a satisfying click.
He wrapped his sweatshirt more tightly around his shoulders to ward off the remaining chill. The door rattled in its frame, but remained closed.
Closing his eyes once more, Law focused on breathing and staying conscious. Phantom spasms wracked his limbs, but he remained still through practiced applications of willpower.
A few minutes later the train began to move once more, but the chatter of students in the neighboring compartments had lessened considerably.
It did not take long for the train to pull up to a lighted platform. Law could hear the muted rumble of voices and feet shuffling out into the night. He waited till it had mostly died down before getting up himself.
Long sword resting comfortably on his shoulder, he considered the two paths leading away from the platform. One was covered with the recent footsteps of the students, so Law took the second. It wove through the trees before opening out onto a cheery village. The sign by the road proclaimed the place to be called 'Hogsmeade'.
He fell back into the habits formed after years of appearing in strange towns every other day, and sought out the nearest bar.
The place was named the 'Three Broomsticks' and luckily for the doctor had a spare room he could rent for the night on the second floor.
Locking the door securely behind him, Law collapsed onto the plush feather pillows, finally letting himself fully sleep in over three days.
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Dawn crested the horizon, spilling light onto the Heart Pirate's face.
The man lunged forward, hands reaching for a weapon, before he opened his eyes to take in his surroundings.
"Oh," he said, finally recalling the events of the past few days. Re-sheathing the long sword, he slumped back against the pillows.
The wizarding world, a place he had never expected to see again, yet somehow found himself.
He thought back to the battle against the Pacifista where he had stupidly switched the robot for the (mostly) flesh and blood counter part. His crew had luckily been out of the line of fire at that point in the fight. Law had remained behind in order for them to all get back to the ship.
The plan was to wait for five minutes and set sail if he did not manage to reach them. Hopefully those loyal fools had listened and escaped. He could do nothing to help them in his current predicament.
Law ground his teeth. He needed to get back to his crew as soon as possible, that much was clear, however the particulars of how escaped him. Hopefully he could magic up an answer.
Getting up, the doctor slouched to the water basin and splashed a handful of water on his face. Wiping himself dry, he pulled his spotted hat over his ears and put on the yellow sweatshirt he had been wearing in Saboady. He checked his appearance in he glass and decided it was clean enough to do until he managed to acquire more cloths.
"Bit scruffy dear," the mirror said. Law raised an eyebrow.
His hands hesitated over his sword. He felt confident that could handle the average wizard, and his blade would attract more attention than he currently needed at this point. With a deft movement and a quickly applied 'Room' the sword sat neatly in his pocket, having been cut into several neat pieces.
Descending the stairs with hardly a sound, he walked through the empty bar. Behind the counter the owner, a Madam Rosmerta, was just beginning to wipe down the tables. He gave her a small nod, and a promise to be back some time later in the day, before venturing out into the streets.
The town of Hogsmeade had a high concentration of shops and homes near its center that petered out into farms and unpopulated wilderness the further away one went. Law spent the morning mapping the territory, taking note of the Shrieking Shack and the more frequented shops.
He stopped for a drink in the Hog's Head pub and lifted the contente of several bags and pockets, adding more gold to his coffers. He also found himself in possession of three sticks of wood.
'Wands,' his mind supplied.
The first was greying and scuffed, taken from a short wizard who smelled strongly of alcohol. Law waved it, but nothing happened.
The second, peach wood taken from a witch, also gave him no results.
The third was of a stronger dark color. Its former owner was a tall man with a billowing cloak and hooked nose. The wand grudgingly produced a curtain of light blue sparks at Law's wave. He smiled.
Unfortunately that was the most interesting find all day, so it was with frustration that the pirate captain returned to the Three Broomsticks.
The bar was considerably more full than when he left that morning. Law sat at the counter and motioned for Madam Rosmerta's attention.
"Excuse me madam, is there by chance a library I might be able to access?" He had not found so much as a proper book shop in the tiny town.
"Library? The only one I know of is up at the school, and that's closed to the public. If you're looking for a particular book, you would do best to order it a Flourish and Blots."
A vague memory of being pulled away from a book on curses crosses his mind and he frowns. While potentially useful, he could not go out buying books willy-nilly until he actually knew what he was looking for.
"Would it be possible to appeal to the headmaster?"
The woman shrugged. "Maybe, but not now with all the tightened security from Sirius Black's escape."
"Hm, thank you," Law said amicably. "And I do think I will take my dinner upstairs, if it is not too much trouble."
"No trouble at all dearie," the witch laughs as he climbs the stairway to his room.
Brows furrowed, the pirate captain retrieved the copy of the paper he had acquired on the train and sat on the edge of the bed. He flipped through each page, deliberately reading each article heading and cataloguing the relevant information for possible later use. Law paused for a moment over the classified ads, before turning several pages back to re-read a page he had skipped over.
The reporter, Rita something-or-other, did a passable job of spinning the article's events into a tragedy of woe and heroics, but by cutting out most of the flowers and sparkles, it was mostly readable.
"I was just looking after my sister," says Ron Weasley, age twelve. "She found this cursed diary in one of her books and had been writing in it all year. I knew right away something was up when she said it wrote back...like dad always said: Don't trust something unless you can see where it keeps its brain..." cont. page 8.
"Hogwarts has decided to expand its staff this year by hiring more on the site healers. This is in response to the string of unsolved magical maladies that resulted in the hospitalization of several students last year..."
The rest of the article covered the angry tide of letters sent by parents to the school board and the paper crying out against the lack of safety and care given to students. In response the governors implemented a mandatory luggage screening before a student entered the castle, and granted more funds to the hospital wing.
He turned back to the wanted ad. 'On site healer, must work well with children...Please send owl in no later than September 15...'
A plan twisted itself through his brain leaving sub-plots and manipulations in its wake.
Law smirked and looked at himself in the mirror; ignoring the age difference, he did not share many common features with his younger self.
While still thin and lanky, Law had grown to be moderately tall. This meant little in a world where a person's height could range from five to sixty feet, but in the wizard world the man was of a height which forced most to look up to meet his eyes.
Speaking of his eyes...well, he had found a suitable donor to correct his problems seeing. Possessing the Ope Ope fruit made sure the transplants worked just as well as if he had been born with them. A lack of glasses would also detract from his former appearance.
Law could safely agree that the likely hood of anyone in this world recognizing him was minimal, but was it worth the annoyance if his identity was revealed?
Once, a scared little boy huddled in the snow and thought only of his friends at magic school. Now that boy had grown up, and one year of his childhood weighed considerably less than ten years of piracy. Law remembered his friends fondly, but they were just children now, and had no real desire to entangle himself back into the wizarding world.
However he still needed to find a way back to his crew, and the largest source of information at hand, namely the library, was closed to anyone who was not a student or staff member at Hogwarts.
Coming to a decision, Law reached for a piece of parchment and fumbled for a pen, before remembering that wizards used quills. Some islands still used such archaic writing devices, but Law found them distasteful on the whole. Quills smudge too easily, and a spilled bottle on ink can ruin an entire day of dissection notes.
Still, dimension hopping death surgeons could not be choosers.
With steady hands, he penned out a letter of introduction and set it on the desk to be delivered the next day.
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From what Law had been able to glean from the article in the Dailey Prophet and several casual questions about town, there had been some trouble up in the castle the previous year which led to the hospitalization of several students. Some claimed the 'Heir of Slytherin' was behind the attacks, but the official story placed the blame on a cursed object unknowingly brought into the school by a first year.
In response to the complaints of parents, the governors implemented a mandatory luggage screening before a student entered the castle, and granted more funds to the hospital wing.
The escape of the notorious prisoner Sirius Black only caused the wizards to become more paranoid and surround the castle with dementors.
Law frowned, drawing his cloak more tightly around his shoulders. He had seen more of the floating creatures at the edges of town when he ventured to have a closer look at the school. At best they were a nuisance; at worst an unknown enemy.
A cup of steaming coco clinked onto the counter in front of him. He blinked up into the smiling face of Madam Rosmerta.
"You look a bit peckish dear," she said kindly. "Of course everyone has been lately with those Azkaban guards driftin' about."
Law hesitatingly took a sip of chocolate, and immediately felt warmth seep back into his limbs. "Thank you very much. What do I owe you?"
The woman shook her head. "Never you mind! Business has been bad what with the things goin on around here. The least I can do is look after my customers."
He thanked her, taking another sip of the drink. The lingering chill left by the creatures was now completely gone from his limbs.
'Dopamine stimulators are effective in treating exposure to dementors,' He thinks, and files the information away for later.
"You got an owl today," the barmaid pulled a letter from under the counter. "Here you go dear."
Law looked up from his cup to accept the heavy parchment. Taking note of the coat of arms on the front, he slits the wax seal with a finger and reads the contense, a smile curling his lips. It was so satisfactory when a plan worked just how you thought it would.
"It appears as though I shall have to cancel my order for lunch," he told her. "I have an urgent meeting up at the castle I must attend."
"Will you be wanting to use the floo then dear?"
Law's smile did not waiver, though he had no idea what she was talking about. "I've never been one to use it often, but it might be the best option at the moment. If you could just show me where it is...?"
The barmaid chuckles in a way more befitting a female much younger than her. "Of course dearie! The powder is just here by the fire."
She bustled around the counter to the brick lined fireplace, Law trailing a step behind her. Pulling a pinch of sparkling powder from a jar on the mantle, she tossed it into the flames, which instantly roared green.
"You can just say where you are going and step into the flames. I won't charge you for the trip, so don't worry about it."
Thanking her, the pirate eyed the flames, trying to not show as must distrust as he felt. "Hogwarts, Hospital Wing, Madam Pomphrey's Office," he intoned, taking a step forward and letting himself be spun away by the flames.
He shut his eyes against the flood of blurred fireplaces, and felt his body begin to slow. With a lurch the fire spat him out onto a cold stone floor.
Law tumbled and kept his footing only through years of battle and living on a ship.
Straightening his cloths, he glanced around the space he landed in.
Behind him, a simple brick fireplace combined its light with the sun beams streaming through the large window on the adjacent wall, illuminating a crowded desk and shelf spilling over with leather bound books and parchment.
His hands itched to examine some of the texts, however the door opening stopped his thoughts before they could become action.
A prim old woman in a white over robe bustled in. She started upon catching sight of Law. "Oh, are you here for an appointment?"
The surgeon stretched his face into what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Madam Pomphrey, it is so good to finally meet you in person!"
"And who might you be young man?"
The dark haired figure inclined his head politely. "I am Trafalga Law. I applied for the assistant healer position."
"It is customary to send in your application via owl."
"Well you see I was home schooled, and felt that my application would be better received in person. I have been thoroughly trained as a ...healer, and I hope this opportunity will help me continue on with my...studies."
"Ah well, it is good to see some enthusiasm." She pulled out the stiff backed chair behind the desk and sat down.
Law obligingly handed her the application he had spend the last few days writing to match his painstakingly faked back story. "It seems my letter of recommendation became lost in the mail."
"Don't worry about it dear, we can get it all sorted out later."
Madam Pomphrey squinted at the paper. "Hm, extensive experience treating blunt trauma and lacerations. A passing familiarity in disease identification, and you did your mastery in the versatility of switching spells."
Law inclined his head minutely. "I ran a small emergency clinic in the tundra," he said thinking of his home in the North Blue. "I came here to get more experience treating a broader range of ailments."
The matron laughed. "Well we get the lot here. Mostly the aftermath of spells gone wrong, but you would mostly be dealing with the occasional outbreak of the flu...as well as helping any students too harshly affected by the dementors." She shuddered. "Awful things."
She shuffled through the papers. "I see no record of your OWLs."
"My home schooling prepared me to be a healer. My...magic is rather specified for that purpose." His 'room' could easily pass as magic if he played it subtly. "I consider it my honor to learn as well as assist here Madam Pomphrey."
Her mouth thinned, and Law cursed himself for not forging the proper information. What were OWLs anyway? What did birds have to do with educational requirements?
"The standards across the pond are different from what I understand. I've never been to Canada myself." She laid the stack of papers on her desk and pushed out her chair. "Well everything seems to be in order. Would you like a look at the hospital wing before we continue?"
Together they exited the office, but before the tour could begin, a student dashed into the infirmary.
"Madam Pomphrey, Professor McGonagall needs your help with the fifth year class. They were doing self transfiguration exercises, but then they started aiming spells at each other..."
"Ah yes, the Gryffindor class. Let me just get my things." She flicked her wand, summoning a medical kit. "Mr. Law, if you could just wait in here while I get this sorted out. It shouldn't be more than a minute."
The dark doctor clasped his hands behind his back and smiled genially until the nurse vanished down the corridor. When she showed no immediate signs of returning, he sauntered over to the glass cabinets and examined their contense.
A small green bottle labeled 'Skelegrow' caught his attention. From the laughable label, it evidentially had something to do with regrowing parts of the skeletal system. Before he could fully delve into the hypothetical uses of a potion capable of regrowing complete bones, two teenagers dashed through the doors carrying a third between them.
"Please sir," the tearful girl with a green tie said. "Our friend needs help!" She couldn't be older than eleven.
Law took charge of the situation immediately. "Lay him on the bed over there," he instructed the girl, who nodded face pale. He rounded on the two boys. "Explain to me what happened; leave nothing out."
Madam Pomphrey returned ten minutes later. "Now where were we Mr. Law..." she trailed off looking at the students tearfully sitting in the corner while the young applicant leaned over the still figure on the bed.
He looked up. "Ah, Madam Pomphrey, this boy appears to be suffering from some kind of induced nightmare. His friends heard him scream and found him comatose at the edge of the school grounds."
"He must have gotten to close to the Azkaban guards!"
Law nodded. "He will need chocolate then."
The nurse smiled at him approvingly. "Quite right. You certainly know your remedies."
"It would be unwise for one in my profession not to."
Madam Pomphrey appraised him thoughtfully. "You seem to have everything sorted out here, young man." She turned to the students. "I'll have the house elves send up some chocolate; be sure you three eat it all!" Looking back to Law, she motioned him to her office. "Now there's just some formalities we should discuss..."
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Back in his room in the Three Broomsticks, Law rubbed his stiff cheeks with a grimace. He had not needed to smile that much in over ten years, however if he intimidated the wizards he was unlikely to become employed. Hence all the politeness and cheerful smiling.
Society was so much easier to navigate when you could just intimidate everyone into leaving you alone, but unfortunately not every world could have the simplicity of pirates.
Pulling his muscles down in to a frown just to remind himself that he could, Law stood and crossed to the window. A response to his application should be arriving within the week, so the wisest course of action would be to use the time to reacquaint himself with this world.
Downstairs Madam Rosmerta was cleaning the counter, while two teenagers girls in blue ties sat quietly at the counter pouring over a book. One looked up at his approaching footsteps and nudged her friend, eyes never leaving the tall dark and handsome profile coming down the stairs.
Fixing the winning smile back onto his face, Law caught the barmaid's attention. "Excuse me madam, but I was wondering where the best place to get some shopping done would be. I packet lightly for my journey here, and the weather is slightly more than my current wardrobe can handle." The bag of gold he stole on the train also was in need of being replenished.
The old woman smiled cheerily at him. "I was going to floo to Madam Malkins this afternoon to pick up a new cloak. It would be no trouble at all to take you with me."
Law inclined his head with a gracious smile. The girls in the corner swooned. "That would be very kind of you."
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Due to his limited funds, Law did not let himself dawdle in the Alley.
In a second hand store he found a set of long black robes, which the owner was happy to hem to the correct length for him to wear. Realizing that the fashion of wizards was uncomfortable and silly, the doctor made a note to visit the muggle side of London to procure a pair or two of jeans.
He stopped by the bank to open an account and deposit the majority of his gold, before meandering to the book shop.
The assistant at the desk lurked over his shoulder as he looked through the shelves, trying and failing to find the nerve to ask the scary man whether or not he planned to buy anything.
Law left just before they put up the closed sign, and returned to the Leaky Cauldron. One quick scan of the room to fill his pockets with gold, the pirate floo-ed back to the Three Broomsticks.
There was a letter waiting for him when he got there.
Law smirked. That was faster than he expected.
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