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I think I've figured out what I can't manage to tolerate about One Piece fanfiction (I feel like underlining how this is an entirely subjective set of points), at least those set in Oda's world.
As far as SI fics go: it is either a meaningless power-fantasy (exactly like my own 'Unbound, Stealing the Thunder'), an exact remake of canon if not for some minor details, a canonic remake in which the MC is a passenger of the story(This Bites by Xomniac is the only enjoyable example for both categories).
With crossovers (Neon Zangetsu and Naruto are of course the best), the respective lore and power sets of the intertwined worlds don't really manage to work: meaning that either Haki and the Devil Fruit are absolute protagonists, or that whoever comes from the other world (Bleach or Naruto) is absolutely overpowered.
With more regular fanfiction... well, there just isn't a way to write an original story that is better than Luffy's: not while maintaining a few degrees of separation between the main adventure and the dingy, gritty reality of slavery and tyrannical world government beneath it.
Another great hurdle that I've come to realize more recently is that fanfiction of novels tends to be better than fanfiction of manga, simply because the authors use much of the already existing 'setting' to write their story. But without the excuse of needing an incantation, shouting out the name of an attack really doesn't work well.
Besides the writing style-related issues, One Piece is a nightmare because there is never a plot appropriate for the world-setting that isn't 'be part of a crew that aims to reach Laugh Tale'. And those stories are an insanely massive undertaking for any author: there is simply too much to address for it to remain a hobby.
All those points were behind my idea of 'Sea-Crossing Wizard', in which I had Fawkes pluck Harry Potter from the Chamber of Secrets after he killed the Basilisk only to drop him wandless into Oda's world. I still have a tentative plot for that fic that isn't simply a One Piece-person with Potter's character: at that point, I might as well simply have used an OC for the story.
The idea for this fic is a further elaboration of Sea-Crossing Wizard: I'm going to try and balance out the abilities of Rowling and Oda' worlds, without turning the characters into meat suits for the powers of the other fandom. This of course translates into a much different kind of fight, and an even more different type of conflict.
Well, we'll see how it goes.
Beyond the Veil
Sirius was hit by the green curse cast by Bellatrix Lestrange.
In the dark Veil Room in the department of mysteries, the surrounding spellfire seemed to die down with the explicit purpose of letting Harry observe his godfather, the only family he had left, be torn from his outstretched hands.
His green eyes were trailed on the only decent Black ever produced by that family as he fell through the archway, and like it always happened, he acted without thinking.
"SIRIUS!" his shout exploded out of him while his legs pushed, a faint part of his mind aware of just what had happened, only for the whole of his distressed conscience to push him forward. The world around him didn't matter, he didn't realize how the momentary quiet that surrounded his shout turned from the tense one that defined a barely won fight to the dread-fuelled silence of the disbelieving.
Harry James Potter, Chosen One, Seeker, and Wizard, threw himself into the Veil with his hand outstretched, blindly grasping the ethereal form of Sirius, only to tumble, along with it, into the unknown. He didn't notice the despair on the face of those of the Orders that had come to his rescue, he didn't notice the confused expressions of the friends still awake that had accompanied him into his last escapade, and he didn't notice Remus Lupin trying to grab him.
For his part, the werewolf barely missed the young Potter: instead of enclosing his arms around the too-fast Seeker, stopping him as it had been his instinctual reaction, he took another step and ended up closing his off-hand around the left ankle of the boy.
Unbalanced as he was, he couldn't stop the hold he had on the younger wizard from tugging him into the Veil, and along Sirius' body, he fell with Harry beyond the Veil.
Basil Hawkins walked beneath the heavy rain, his cloak not quite managing to hold back the water that fell from the heavens. At the flash of lightning, his pale long features almost shone, mirroring the harsh whiteness that generated an eardrum-breaking thunder: his Tarots had never led him astray, and his last attempt at figuring out a new angle for his powers had led him where he was.
Instead of reading the probabilities of a certain event, he had adopted a looser approach: he had shuffled his deck, and, letting his Devil Fruit do the work, he had laid out the simplest reading he could. One set of three, followed by a set of seven. The tarots had painted a confusing picture, between the hanged man and the upside-down Death, Basil could hardly be certain of what the aether was trying to tell him. The only thing that he understood fully, looking at the way in which some images had surrounded the Tower, was that he had to wait for the storm to pass before setting sail.
In less than one year it would come the day in which the signs would be most auspicious for the beginning of his far-reaching journey. Soon, he'd have the Fate on his side to sail away from his residence in the North Blue, to make his way East, then South, then East again, until he reached the Grand Line. Then why did the cards oppose the omens I previously observed?
The answer, of course, came with lightning.
The world flashed white, and from a moment to the next, under another heavy rumble of thunder, the rocky, bare surface Basil was crossing was no longer empty. Covered by the chaos of the storm above them, three bodies rag-rolled onto the stone.
Basil jumped back and rested a hand on the sword of straws he carried on his hip: his body was still under his cloak, but he was ready to lose it in a moment if a fight presented itself. After all, despite the positive potential told by his Tarot reading, there was an implicit uncertainty in the new use of his power.
Of the three dark shapes, on the rocky ground, only one staggered to its feet, and two green eyes could be seen between one strike of lightning and the next, as if lanterns powered by small candles, whose light didn't quite manage to shine upon the world.
Under the rain, in the dark, with the chaos of the storm, the only standing shape seemed to whip his head around for a couple of seconds, only for him to rise one arm and shout with a boy's voice: "Lumos Maxima!"
A white orb of light was summoned by the voice belonging to a dark-haired, bespectacled boy who hadn't noticed Hawkins studying him from one side.
As it clearly wasn't an attack, Basil limited itself to move a bit to the side, exploiting the sudden light to see what the storm had put on his path: with only a glance, he noted the ragged appearance of an unconscious man behind the boy, his breath deep enough to count as slumber, and he realized that the other figure slumped on the rocky ground belonged to a dead man.
Did they kill him? Hawking tilted his head as he tried to puzzle out what he was seeing, his hand still ready on the hilt of his straw sword, Or did the two adults try to kidnap the boy?
"SIRIUS!" the relief in the boy's tone as he threw himself at the man on the ground quickly disabused him of the notion. The blond pirate watched impassibly as the one to produce that strange, hovering bulb of light scrambled to turn the black-haired man on his back: "Sirius!"
"Hey, c'mon, wake up, wake up..."
"He won't wake." Hawkings spoke dismissively. He had seen enough dead bodies in his life to recognize one when it was dropped at his feet, and with the surprising lack of lightning, he didn't have to shout to be heard over the thunder. His eyes stopped briefly on the unconscious man behind the boy, who was starting to move.
Still, his voice was loud enough to be heard over the whipping wind, and the boy rose his head with a suddenly menacing glare behind his spectacles. Jumping to his feet, the green light in the boy's eyes seemed to burn fiercer as he pointed at the blond pirate with... Is that a stick?
"Crucio!" the nonsensical word accompanied a red bolt of light that Hawkings sidestepped with ease, only for a light frown to appear on his blank expression when he heard the rock hit by the... is that a spell?.. crack.
Despite his interest in the strangers, Basil could hardly take an assault without answering: and so he stepped forward, his straw sword whipping out of its sheath with the crackling sound of dry grass scrubbing against wood...
Only for the pirate to be to tilt his head back and twirl his chosen weapon, respectively avoiding another red attack from the boy and intercepting a grey one from the unconscious man that had uncertainly risen to his feet.
With his second step, Basil was in striking range of the boy and he began to slash horizontally only for his target to be lifted off his feet and be dragged back, tumbling on the wet rock beside the man who was now pointing another stick at Basil, the length of wood holding a menacing greyish light on its tip: "Stop!"
Remus spoke firmly despite feeling like all his muscles were jelly, his off-hand barring Harry from charging the stranger: "Who are you?"
The pale face visible at the light of Harry's Lumos quirked an eyebrow: "Hawkings, Basil. And you?"
Remus' mind was working overtime to put together the recent sequence of events with the unfamiliar presence of a man with a sword made of straw: they were in the Ministry... and then...
"Harry!" his hand closed on the younger wizard's shirt, but this time the werewolf managed to leverage all of his advantages in bulk, and pulled the Chosen One back, shooting him a scathing glare, even if he didn't lower his wand from the stranger: "What do you think you're doing!?"
Insensate, the Gryffindor still tried to run forward, pointing his hand at the still shape on the rocky ground: "He killed Sirius!"
Remus ignored the pang of grief that came with the name of his last friend and once more forced Harry behind himself: "Bellatrix killed him before he fell into the Veil, Harry."
The grim certainty in his tone had almost the same effect as a knife between the boy's vertebrae, to the point that he slumped against the taller form of the adult, who managed to return his full attention to the stranger. And I need to be able to talk with Harry: an Unforgivable, of all things!?
"Where do you hail from?" the stranger, feeling that the time for violence had passed, sheathed once more his weapon and returned to look like a pale face hovering in the dark, "And what kind of Devil Fruit do you have to have appeared out of nowhere?"
"London, we were at the Ministry..." Harry's muffled words reached the cloaked man, who took another step forward, this time without the intention of attacking. He observed carefully the hollow expression of the boy, who seemed to be able to stand only because he was hanging to the trench coat of the older man.
"I know not of that island."
What? Remus swallowed loudly as his eyes jumped from the dead form of Sirius to the inquisitive gaze of Basil. "I'm sorry for... the attack. He's distraught. London is the capital of the United Kingdom, those are the islands... we come from."
With a practiced motion, Remus cast his Patronus to bring a message to Dumbledore, only for the silvery light to scatter into nothingness when there was no target it could reach. And worry managed to wash over the grief and the practicality that had managed to keep the wizard going, making him stagger minutely.
The three remained standing under the rain for several seconds, until the light cast by the boy vanished, prompting Remus to lit his own, and after a deep breath, he asked: "Where are we, exactly?"
"Wachin Island, North Blue." Hawkings rose an eyebrow at the man, who found himself echoing the pirate's previous statement.
"I don't know this island..." the werewolf was hanging there by the skin of his teeth: too much had happened too fast, and only the experience granted him by fighting in a war allowed him to keep going. "Where exactly are we in the North Sea? Denmark? Norway?"
"There are as many islands in the sea as stars in the sky," Basil shrugged, but his eyes were sharply pointed at the spectacle , seemingly acccepting the apology only for a quirk of his lips to accompany his next words, "only one man is said to have conquered them all."
"So we need to ask this man?" Remus tried to salvage the conversation with the extremely odd, extremely dangerous man in front of him, "Where can we find him?"
The impassible expression of the blond man in front of the werewolf seemed to crack minutely at the question, as if he was considering whether to humor an idiot or simply laugh at his ignorance: "I don't know where the World Government put him, but if one of you can talk with the dead, your Devil Fruits must be truly impressive."
This one is a madman. Remus finally lowered his wand, shifting his weight to better hold up the shell-shocked Harry with his free arm. "It's the second time you mention Devil Fruits..."
"And you know nothing of them." the pirate's eyes shone with renewed interest, only to shift to the still form of Sirius and the shocked boy: "It is a long enough talk... maybe we can get out of the rain?"
AN
I deliberately chose to not have Harry end up with Luffy, Shanks, or Whitebeard (seen that already). Besides that, I discarded Kid, and Law because the first would be just too disagreeable to canon Potter, and the latter has a really good backstory and a plot that I don't really want to touch.
I could have leveraged Bonney's gluttonous side with the wizards capable of enlarging food, Mad Monk Uroge could have been interesting for his holy disposition, while Drake would have turned the world-hoppers into the Government's hands. Apoo would have robbed them, Kid would have killed them, Luffy would have swallowed them in his adventure (and I'm not going to remake the canon adventure).
On the other hand, Hawkings has this whole 'black magic' vibe going around, and there is some overlap with what Harry and Remus can do.
I choose with a die the one to follow Harry in Oda's world among the Order Members present at the night of the Ministry: the presence of another adult witch or wizard is really fundamental for me to manage to keep Rowling's magic as an important part of the story. Harry, for all that he is the Chosen One, can do shit with his arsenal of spells, and to let him survive, I'd have to adapt him to the local powerset.
Remus has the good werewolf side as his subplot, Moody would have been hilarious to set against the World Government, Tonks would have been a good romance story to enforce in the course of years, while Dumbledore would have steamrolled most of Paradise in the search of a solution for the current situation.
Maybe I'll write the first couple of chapters for the other possible combination
For now, let me know what you think, and what you hope to see!