[Fic] -- IWoT chapter 05 (2nd ed)
Starting from here on out, there are very few changes between the 1st and 2nd editions.
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Severus Snape had, in all of his years as a Hogwarts teacher, never been so reduced as to doing petty chores for the Order. He was the precious spy risking life and limb in the top ranks of the Dark Lord's inner circle, leaking valuable information out to Dumbledore and his group of what he called 'hero-wannabes'…
Which was why he felt insulted when Albus had personally asked him to check up on their little celebrity by stopping by Privet Drive later on in the morning…
Him, check up on Potter? Please. As if the man didn't have anything better to do.
But he nevertheless agreed. Tonks was busy in Scotland posing as one of the new lower-leveled followers of the Dark Lord. Lupin was, at the moment, sleeping the day away after last night's full moon. Moody was trying to get the Ministry from putting him on trial after one of his usual paranoid attacks on a poor mailman who happened to have delivered the newspaper to the wrong door. All of the other professors and members were busy on vacation or currently indispensable for the time being, and that left only himself and the Weasleys to fulfill the Headmaster's request. Snape snorted.
The Weasleys. They would have managed to get the whole neighborhood into an uproar with their muggle-loving attitude and their penchant for causing trouble before they would have been able to confirm Harry's state of being.
After putting on what he considered 'proper attire', the Potions Master prepared to Apparate to Little Whinging from Diagon Alley. From what he had heard, Harry's relatives had a distinct fear for anything that was related to magic. Perhaps, dressing in his usual robe would intimidate them just a little bit…
But what he hadn't counted on was being attacked and knocked out by a figure that Apparated in front of him in the middle of the street, moments before he had been able to reach the Dursleys.
In Way of Trouble
Chapter 05: "Fleeting Visions"
By Hikagi
The first thing he realized was that he was running really, really fast.
Like, Firebolt fast…
He mildly noted that he wasn't much of an athletic person, and that moving like this wasn't possible for him or for any human being at all. An image of Dudley chasing him up a tree with a bulldog surfaced briefly as well as the figure of a plump lady inflating to the size of a small baby whale. Reconsidering what was happening, he wondered where this vast forest had come from - there certainly weren't any big mountains where he lived either… As strange as the new environment seemed, it was nothing compared to what he had experienced before.
His mind was still a little bit hazed and it seemed like he had just awoken from a dream or a trance-like state. The term 'death ritual' flashed through his mind briefly as he tried to sort out what exactly was going on. All the while, words kept floating up from what he assumed to be his memory, though the terminology was new yet familiar at the same time.
There was this feeling of urgency, a voice that was calling out to him, begging him, ordering him with all speed to reach a certain destination ('country border,' was the word that came up) that was just beyond the forest. And that was just what he was doing - running with all his might. The reason was unknown and vague, but it had something to do with the idea of revenge and limitless power. The trees were sweeping past him, the individual branches and trunks too blurred to count them. He was sprinting as fast as his legs would go though he recognized neither the setting nor the clothes that were put on his back.
Plus the small and insignificant fact that he was being chased by dangerous and lethal beings…
By who or why was beyond him, but there were people running not too far behind. As far as he could tell, he had a group of friend backing him up as well, trying to give him time to run from the scene - especially one particular blond boy…
As if to respond to this train of thought, a voice called out somewhat muffled by the long distance between them.
"You cowardly bastard! Just wait until I catch up with you! I'm going to make you regret ever leaving us in the first place!"
But Harry kept on running, leaping from tree-branch to tree-branch, not even bothering to take a break from exhaustion or fatigue. He wasn't tired anyway. Brushing his hair out of his eyes, he noticed that he didn't have his glasses on either. Contacts, maybe? But this was given very little thought as something came flying from behind and hit the tree he had just leapt from. Crouching down on the floor, Harry took one look back as he saw the blond figure steadily draw closer before continuing in the direction he had been going…
He finally reached it - the waterfall; the edge of the country; the only thing standing in the way between him and his future. Behind him was the past, that unforgettable pit of malice and hell… There, he was revered as the boy who survived a horrible massacre - the only one ever known to have escaped his terrible fate… The distant noise of a subtle shock wave made the birds scatter into the air as two enemies fought over his flight from home.
His allies should have gotten rid of all of the pesky insects that were chasing him. Especially if what his senses told him were true - the redheaded pest was chasing him too… He was the only one even worth putting any effort into fighting - the smart brainiac, the bumbling chubby boy, the annoying blond git - they were just flies… He looked forward to dueling again…. Their previous match had been interrupted the last time by an unfortunate turn of events…
He half expected the redhead to step out from the shadows. When he sensed someone starting to speak, he couldn't help but feel that his anticipation for the much-waited opponent fell drastically. It wasn't who he wished it to be…
"Why do you hate him?" the figure from the shadows said. "Why do you try so hard to gain power to defeat this guy?"
The voice came from behind. Without looking, Harry knew who it was, who was following him, what he wanted… He whirled around, bringing up his past to memory, reliving his hurt, his pain, his suffering…
"And why do you want to know?"
The blond figure shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the murderous glare, unmoved by the 'killer intent' rising in the atmosphere.
"Orders from the old hag herself… Ever since the old guy in charge died, she's been acting as the commander-in-chief of the place… You should have known that - it wasn't that long ago…"
He didn't, but the blond did not seem to realize this. Harry hadn't been paying attention to the recent turn of events… Who died? Who took charge? The other boy became quiet, and for a while the wind exchanged the unspoken words between the two. The blond boy spoke up, this time stating what was on both of their minds.
"It's not like running away will get you anywhere…"
Harry felt the tips of his eyes grow hot with energy, anger building up at the very pit of his stomach with every step the boy took to get closer to him.
"Why? You want to know why?" he asked, answering the first question that had been spoken when the two met just now. "He killed MY PARENTS! THAT'S WHY!"
He could see her - his mother - screaming in agony as she drew her last breath before the killer left her there, her body an empty shell without her soul encased within… This was just a part of his imagination, he knew. He never got to see her die… Or did he? Conflicting images kept coming to him, flooding his senses with unfamiliar scenes… He was much too young to have remembered the details… But something else inside of him told otherwise - she was dead before he could have gotten home from training that day…
"He killed my family! He took everything away from me!"
The thing was that the words coming out of his mouth were automatic as if it he was in someone else's body. These emotions… these memories… even these movements (last time he checked, he could not perform a somersault from the top of a tree branch to the floor twenty feet below)… they weren't his, that was for sure… Yet at the same time, they were…
He felt like a mannequin on tape stuck in 'play' mode. He couldn't control what he was doing, what he was saying… Everything seemed to go on with or without his consent. He was a soul trapped within a body that moved on its own…
It was strange… No matter how hard he tried, Harry couldn't get anything straight. For instance, he knew that he went to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But a little voice in his head said that he'd been going to an academy for all of his life… He couldn't recall what his family looked like either…
"He made my life miserable - a living hell! He is the reason why I'm famous! Why I'm infamous!"
First his mother had red hair and green eyes, then she had black hair and dark eyes. Harry's mom was a shufu ('a housewife'), then she was working along side of a Ministry. She was brave and brilliant, and then quiet and soft-spoken. First she would see him off to school with his backpack and lunch pail, then he would get a glimpse of her through the Mirror of Erised - see her scream through the Dementors' horrid visions…
He didn't know what was going on, why this person in front of him had made him so angry. As far as he knew, Draco would never act this way - to stand before him to ask why he hated Voldemortso. Wasn't it Malfoy who wanted to team up with the Dark Lord in the first place?
"That bastard killed them all!"
He silently slipped a hand inside a pocket and picked up something vaguely familiar. Closing his fist around his weapon, he clenched his teeth and spat out his last warning, hoping that his opponent would step aside, hoping at the same time that he wouldn't.
"Now get out of my way before I kill you!"
His opponent merely scoffed.
"You think I'm going to lose to a wimp like you? Forget it!"
Fingering what he assumed to be his wand (he wasn't sure - everything seemed to be so out of place), Harry grinned fiercely, eyes filled with lust for blood. He brought out his weapon and started twirling around on his index finger.
"I'm warning you," Harry said evenly with deliberate coolness. "Get. Out. Of. My. WAY!"
He raised the right hand over his head, the object grasped firmly with relative ease. He wanted to shout 'Expelliramus' at the top of his lungs to disarm the opponent who sported a similar weapon as the one he himself was carrying. Heck, he wanted to shout a lot of things at this guy - 'Stupefy' - 'Crucio' - 'Avada Kedavra' - each worse then the last… But things did not turn out the way he expected…
As fast as he had raised his hand, his opponent shot something in his general direction. It was a conjured metal object that was magicked to follow heat signatures. Thinking quickly, Harry jumped aside, allowing the projectile to sweep past him back to its owner. They brandished their weapons again before slowly moving their feet in an almost dance-like way, circling around each other without regards to the time that was passing by.
The deafening roar of the falling water had no impact as the two 'mortal rivals' stood in complete silence, anticipating their opponent's next move.
After a few more minutes of tediously attacking and blocking, Harry made a more daring move and sent the blond teen somersaulting with a well-aimed kick to the chest. The boy retaliated and charged, throwing Harry over the waterfall to the perilous rocks below. But before he could fall into the water, he was surprised to see that he was standing on the cliff-side with a magical charm placed on the bottom of his feet to keep him from losing his grip.
And the blond charged at him again, pausing only to regain his balance as they slowly fought their way down the cliff and onto solid land again. All the while, Harry's anger continued to grow with an unknown hatred, fueling his adrenaline, coaxing him to keep on fighting.
And by mistake, he had tapped something deep inside of his very being… The white-hot anger that had been boiling inside had finally burst into flame. It was as if time itself had slowed down allowing him to see things before they even happened.
He felt powerful. The raw energy that was built within him had come out of his right hand, forming a barrier of magic so strong and majestic that he had at first mistaken it for the Patronus Charm. But his Corpeal Patronus was a stag, not some shapeless ball of energy that crackled with each jolt.
And the blond boy wasn't a bit fazed. He too had a mass of energy formed within his hand as he waited for Harry to finish preparing his attack. By now, the two had backed away from each other long enough to put considerable distance between them. Unable to wait any longer, the blond starting sprinting at the black-haired teen. Harry followed suit and started running as well, their meeting point destined somewhere near the bottom of the waterfall…
"SASUKE!"
Harry ignored the blond calling his name and chose to feed more energy into the spell he was casting. A burst of brilliant light shot out from his hand and connected with the other boy's attack… He heard himself yell something indistinguishable before he saw the two energies collide and erupt, emitting a force so radiant that he felt like he was going blind from its sheer magnitude…
"DIE NARUTO!"
There was an explosion that rocked the ground and sent a tremendous wave of pure energy that could be seen all the way from the watchtowers located in Konoha Gakure. Harry was knocked backwards and ran into the rock statue that was carved into the cliff side. His head started throbbing painfully as a prickling sensation started making his left shoulder burn as if it were on fire.
And the world started fading to black…
He dimly realized that the other boy was still breathing and he himself was losing consciousness. But as he felt his legs buckle underneath him, he woke up suddenly, clutching his bed covers while drenched in cold sweat… Looking around, he quickly identified all of the objects in the room as his own. What had just 'happened' had merely been a dream… The forest, the mountains, the waterfall - they had been a figment of his imagination. (1)
He was back home… As much as you could call a broken down and unwanted room, home… But Harry didn't care. Glancing at the clock that hung on the wall, he was startled to see that it was five past midnight - only a few minutes after had he fallen asleep.
He was now sixteen…
The next morning had turned out to be very interesting in the eyes of the spectators who watched the scene unfold before them in the usually calm and quiet corridors of the Leaky Cauldron.
First there had been an unusual girl roaming around the hallway, knocking on random doors. Nothing was strange except for the fact that she had pink hair and did not speak a work of English, or anything vaguely familiar for that matter.
Then there had been another teenager roaming the hallways, also asking random people a few questions in the same jargon. He seemed to be very agitated for he constantly scratched his blond hair and spoke in great volumes when (he thought) no one was listening.
Others had seen an oddly good-looking black-haired boy sitting in the dining room, absent-mindedly poking his breakfast with what appeared to be a set of thin wands. He was muttering under his breath while he played with his food, trying to pass the time by complaining to no one in particular. At least these eggs didn't turn a slight shade of green or magenta with his not-so-gentle prodding.
If there had been a translator available in the building, he or she would have immediately said that this occurrence was no big deal as the group of children was looking for their teacher who had mysteriously disappeared on them. The few people who had met these new strangers the day before were mildly curious, but did nothing to interact with them. New wizards came in every so often, and cultural barriers were a hindrance no one wanted to bother with.
Then again, having your only legal 'guardian' suddenly vanish in the middle of a strange and potentially dangerous world was an obstacle to be reckoned with. Kakashi-sensei had not shown up last night like he had promised he would, and the shinobi were getting increasingly worried. Not for the jounin's safety, but for the completion of their mission.
The pony-tailed boy? As far as anyone knew (which consisted of Tom and possibly one of the maids who cleaned the windows), he was sitting on the roof of the edifice, watching the gloomy grey clouds roll across the sky.
"London doesn't have the nice weather like 'China' does…" (2)
Harry woke up to the sounds of someone knocking harshly on the door. Quickly scrambling out of bed, he made sure that none of his wizarding materials could be seen underneath the bed covers as he cautiously approached the other side of his room. Carefully walking over the random objects lying on the floor, he reached the door with relative ease. The knocking stopped briefly to be replaced by a somewhat muffled voice on the other side.
"Wake up, boy, or you'll be scrubbing dishes before your friends come and pick you up!"
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," he quickly answered. His aunt gruffed in reply before walking back downstairs to the kitchen.
Friends? Why would they be coming here? No one had really mentioned anything about visiting him on his birthday, not unless you counted owling gifts as 'visiting'… Besides, if this was the Durselys' idea of a birthday present, then it sure wasn't a good one. The best thing they could ever do to him would be to completely ignore him for the rest of the day instead of trying to give him whatever they considered good enough to be his 'presents'. Then again, Dobby would probably have liked the things Harry might just pass on instead of keeping for himself…
Wait… Ron had hinted in one of his letters that someone from the Order might drop by to see how he was doing just in case the Dursleys had been mistreating him again. Harry just hoped that nothing drastic was going to happen like the last few times wizards had ended up interacting with his relatives.
'Please don't let them blow-up the living room…'
As if on cue, Uncle Vernon's voice bellowed from the kitchen table.
"BOY! YOU'D BETTER MAKE SURE THOSE 'FRIENDS' OF YOURS DON'T DO ANYTHING STUPID!"
He groaned. If the Weasleys came, just how was he going to keep them in line? He was hoping that perhaps some other member of the Order would drop by instead… But then again, 'visiting' wasn't the same as being 'picked up'… He wasn't sure, but neither of his friends had said that he was actually leaving the Dursleys any time soon. Maybe his aunt had gotten her hopes up just a tad bit too high this time around…
A sound interrupted his thoughts a he finally managed to put on a pair of decent jeans. After a few seconds, he registered that it was the doorbell - someone was already here! A pair of heavy-set footsteps quickly reached the door as Harry flung on a green sweater and scrambled out of his room, glasses hanging askew on his face. The sight that greeted him at the end of the staircase, however, made him wish he hadn't come out at all.
There was an intimidating man at the door with a stern face and briefcase in hand. He looked like what one would call a lawyer judging from his attire, clean-cut appearance, and imposing demeanor. The man cleared his throat and straightened his tie before acknowledging the people in the room.
"Excuse me, is there a Mr. Vernon Dursley residing in this house?"
Harry was hoping that this wasn't the man Dumbledore had sent because he looked a little too 'muggle' for anyone to take seriously. Don't forget scary. He looked too mean to be a friend as well. Then again, Mad Eye Moody was distorted enough to make anyone wary. A sharp, repulsedlook from the stranger that was directed to the Dursley's back made Harry grimace.
'Ouch. He doesn't seem like the type Dumbledore would send...'
But at least he hadn't been seen.
Dudley, on the other hand, was ecstatic that it wasn't one of those people. This man looked like he was a businessman more than the wizards he feared, so he had no trouble warming up to the stranger. Harry took this chance to quickly sneak back upstairs and sat in the hallway. At least this way, he would be safe from being spotted and he would still be able to hear what was going on in kitchen.
"Why, of course, good Sir," he replied, ushering the lawyer/businessman in. "He is in the dining room reading the morning paper."
"Thank you," he said, stepping out of the entrance way. "I hope I am not interrupting anything…"
"Of course not," Vernon answered. "Might I ask the occasion of this visit?"
"Ah, yes. Pardon my intrusion. My name is Severus Snape, and I am here from the local Public Relations Department." (3)
At this point, Harry gave a start. Snape? As in the Snape? What on earth's name was he doing here?
"Public Relations?"
"Yes, it is a branch of the government. I am a social worker."
Harry raised an eyebrow. Social worker? Since when was Professor Snape working on behalf of the government?
"Oh, I see…" This time, Vernon was looking a little flustered. "I a-afraid I don't know exactly why you would be visiting my ho-"
"I have received several anonymous tips from different people concerning the well-being of a certain individual in your household. Would you mind if I look around a bit?"
At this point, the Dursleys were dreading what was going to happen if the man were to go upstairs and discover a little disheveled boy sporting bruises on his arms and legs, wearing tattered clothing that was much too big on him…
"Why, of course," Vernon shakily stood up from his chair and pointed in the direction of the parlor room. "If you would please…" The man nodded in affirmation.
Before opening the door, Vernon turned to Dudley and said loud enough for Harry to hear clearly, "Why don't you go upstairs and clean any trash from your room?"
It was understood that Harry had to make himself scarce. If the social worker were to find him in this state, then he would be taken away from his aunt and uncle's house. As much as he loved the idea, this was the only place that provided an adequate sense of protection and security to both himself and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix.
Protection from Voldemort, that is… His relatives still loved to abuse him by making him do an unreasonable amount of chores everyday while continually bossing him around. At least Death Eaters couldn't just barge in with the blood-charm whatchamacallit thing in place. Or at least, he hoped not…
Harry wasn't a specialist on charms or sacrifices, but he was betting his life on the fact that no one had ever tried to attack him inside Petunia's house yet. Outside was a different matter… The Dementors from last summer were proof enough. Too bad the charm didn't keep away vengeful Muggles who had a knack of making Harry's life miserable either…
Dudley's labored climbing up the stairs made him jerk back to the problem at hand.
Right. Social worker. Here…
"Mum's said to bring you downstairs to the cupboard again," he said in the quietest whisper he could manage. Harry just followed the small giant down and sighed as Petunia signaled to his old room. He couldn't help but make sarcastic remarks to himself about the stupidity of the situation.
Vernon, on the other hand, was talking loudly to the 'guest' in order to cover up any noises that might have been made during the course of 'Find A Place to Hide Harry'.
After a great many minutes of hearing his uncle assert in a great voice that there was 'nothing he was hiding', Harry's feeling of unease lessened somewhat. The social worker had already visited upstairs and seemed to have found nothing out of the ordinary. Except…
"I am just curious, Mr. Dursley. Why is there an extra bed here when it is clear that there are only three occupants in the house?"
"Oh, that's for my sister Marge. She usually visits us during the holidays and spends the weekend here."
"And leaves her personal belongings lying about the room?"
Harry heard a small curse escape from his uncle's mouth as they came back downstairs.
'Well, at least the spiders seem to be happy to have me here…' he thought.
"Those are my little Dudder's things. He likes to work in the guest room sometimes when he can't concentrate in his own."
The man seemed to buy that explanation as he followed Vernon back towards where they had started.
"Ah, then I take it that he likes history?"
"Eh?" Vernon's confusion was made known in his voice.
The two adults stopped right in front of the cupboard where Harry was hiding. Trying to get a better view, the teenager chanced a quick peek through the metal vents on the door. Unfortunately, the man's back was facing him.
"History. Your son seems to have a keen interest on the earlier civilizations. Half of the things in that room were modeled after more traditional objects than the ones you find in the marketplace today."
The man shifted his weight a little, and for a brief instant, Harry saw something in the social worker's hands. Something that looked like it belonged back in his room under his desk…
"Like this quill for an example. British laws have long ago outlawed the making of calligraphy pens from quill feathers. Your son happened to have this extremely well-made imitation. I didn't know that they sold these things in the market."
Maybe Professor Snape had taken some Polyjuice Potion to make him look like a Muggle so that he had a way of sneaking Harry out of his house without his relatives getting too worked up about it?
Impossible. Harry was sure that the potion would have worn off by now if Snape had taken it before he entered the house. They had spent a long time talking in the parlor room about Uncle Vernon's business before taking their conversation out into the living room before actually going upstairs to do any searching around. Besides, the Snape he knew wasn't that much of a Muggle know-it-all. There was no way that he would have been able to come up with all that crap about working for the government and such…
His uncle looked like he was sweating bullets as he started staring in the direction of a not-so-insignificant cupboard under the staircase. Harry himself felt the way his uncle looked. How the heck did this guy find his Hogwarts things?
"Y-yes. It appears to be that way…"
For a brief second, the man stared hard at the object in his hands as if trying to bore a hole through it before handing it to Vernon.
"I'd best be going now. My superiors would want me to finish my report as soon as possible." His uncle dumbly nodded as an answer before showing the man to the door. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. After the man went away, he would be able to wait for his friends in peace…
Maybe, just maybe it was possible that there was (as much as he hated the thought) another Severus Snape in this world… One who looked younger, had his brown hair trimmed in a barber shop, wore an expensive suit, (hopefully had no relation to his Potions Master) and didn't work for Hogwarts?
Improbable, but not impossible…
"Oh, there was one thing I forgot to do…" The man stopped walking towards the door and faced the Petunia and Dudley who had just emerged from hiding in the kitchen.
"Do any of you know of a Harry Potter?"
Harry's breathing quickened. The idea of the man being an ordinary Muggle was half-tossed out the window by now… If it really had been Professor Snape, wouldn't he have turned back within an hour after coming here?
Or maybe it was possible that the whole this-guy-has-the-same-name-as-someone-I-know thing wasn't a weird coincidence at all, but a Death Eater in disguise using the Professor's name to buy Harry a false sense of security?
Definitely not impossible…
"Harry Potter? Never heard of him. My sister was married to a man named Potter, but they died years ago in a car accident after they had too much to drink from a Halloween party."
Fortunately, Harry had enough sense to keep from rebutting his aunt's lie. But that didn't stop the boards from creaking when he moved around to keep the circulation in his legs from getting cut off. Plus it didn't help that his elbow ran into a shelf and knocked off a bowling ball and a few other objects such as shoes and umbrellas from the weakened boards. Harry didn't realize that the Dursleys had filled the old closet with a few things after he had moved out. From the silence in the rest of the room, Harry assumed that the others had heard him moving and the objects falling as well.
"What exactly are you trying to hide from me, Dursley? Is it something you don't want me to find?" the man asked in an almost dangerous tone.
As if shaken by his state of panic, Vernon cast a wary look at the cupboard.
"Is it, by chance, hidden in that place under the stairs? I've noticed that you tended to glance in that direction every time I hit upon a tedious subject."
'Oh crapcrapcrapcrapcr-'
The last thing he wanted was to be discovered after all the hiding he had done.
And quite suddenly, Harry Potter found himself staring face-to-face with a man he had never met before in his life.
"Hello, Mr. Potter. Good to be finally meeting you at last."
To Be Continued…
Author's Notes:
1. What I was trying to get across was that Harry dreamed that he was Sasuke (kinda like that whole episode where Harry thought he was the snake?). He still retains his memory as Harry, but at the same time kinda gets a glimpse into Uchiha's life. So he had a very mild case of identity crisis while he was trying to figure out what exactly was going on. The words that randomly float up are like explanations for the things he's not familiar with and give Harry something to think about. He thinks that this is one of those made-up dreams people conjure after watching a movie or something. But you know better, right? Just about everything here was done on purpose.
2. I'm totally making this up. I know that the five shinobi countries do not exist in the wizarding world, but the map that Kakashi used to illustrate one of his points in the second volume has a striking resemblance to the map of China. Except that the Hidden Cloud is where the Yellow Sea resides, amongst a bunch of other things… You know how the wizards have supposedly blocked off their ministry and schools from modern technology? So have the ninjas. At least, that's what I'm implying. How else can they escape from being noticed with the satellites and all? But yeah, the whole concept is weird… Who's ever heard of ninjas in China speaking Japanese? XD
3. I know nothing about this either. Totally BS-ing the info here as well…
Now that you know about these, feel free to re-read the chap and see if things make a little more sense… If you disagree or have some doubts, ask a question. Just keep in mind that I already mentioned that it's AU and I'm taking a lot of liberty with both series… If you spot any mistakes, please notify me at once. I'd like to acknowledge them by the next chapter, or watch out for any more potential ones.
Lol. And just for my amusement, can you guys tell me what you thought was going on? I just wanted to know… 'Cuz I was trying not to mention names beforehand to give it away… Btw, Harry's dream should look familiar to you… It was my tweaked version of the battle between Naruto and Sasuke while Uchiha was trying to run to Orochimaru… I'll be posting more information about what happened in flashback modes sometime in future chapters.
Thanks to all of the wonderful people who have read and reviewed this story. Hugs go to the people who have encouraged me to continue to write despite my horrendous flaws and mistakes that keep popping up right and left. I heart you guys.
Yatsuka Hikagi
February 19, 2005
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Severus Snape had, in all of his years as a Hogwarts teacher, never been so reduced as to doing petty chores for the Order. He was the precious spy risking life and limb in the top ranks of the Dark Lord's inner circle, leaking valuable information out to Dumbledore and his group of what he called 'hero-wannabes'…
Which was why he felt insulted when Albus had personally asked him to check up on their little celebrity by stopping by Privet Drive later on in the morning…
Him, check up on Potter? Please. As if the man didn't have anything better to do.
But he nevertheless agreed. Tonks was busy in Scotland posing as one of the new lower-leveled followers of the Dark Lord. Lupin was, at the moment, sleeping the day away after last night's full moon. Moody was trying to get the Ministry from putting him on trial after one of his usual paranoid attacks on a poor mailman who happened to have delivered the newspaper to the wrong door. All of the other professors and members were busy on vacation or currently indispensable for the time being, and that left only himself and the Weasleys to fulfill the Headmaster's request. Snape snorted.
The Weasleys. They would have managed to get the whole neighborhood into an uproar with their muggle-loving attitude and their penchant for causing trouble before they would have been able to confirm Harry's state of being.
After putting on what he considered 'proper attire', the Potions Master prepared to Apparate to Little Whinging from Diagon Alley. From what he had heard, Harry's relatives had a distinct fear for anything that was related to magic. Perhaps, dressing in his usual robe would intimidate them just a little bit…
But what he hadn't counted on was being attacked and knocked out by a figure that Apparated in front of him in the middle of the street, moments before he had been able to reach the Dursleys.
In Way of Trouble
Chapter 05: "Fleeting Visions"
By Hikagi
The first thing he realized was that he was running really, really fast.
Like, Firebolt fast…
He mildly noted that he wasn't much of an athletic person, and that moving like this wasn't possible for him or for any human being at all. An image of Dudley chasing him up a tree with a bulldog surfaced briefly as well as the figure of a plump lady inflating to the size of a small baby whale. Reconsidering what was happening, he wondered where this vast forest had come from - there certainly weren't any big mountains where he lived either… As strange as the new environment seemed, it was nothing compared to what he had experienced before.
His mind was still a little bit hazed and it seemed like he had just awoken from a dream or a trance-like state. The term 'death ritual' flashed through his mind briefly as he tried to sort out what exactly was going on. All the while, words kept floating up from what he assumed to be his memory, though the terminology was new yet familiar at the same time.
There was this feeling of urgency, a voice that was calling out to him, begging him, ordering him with all speed to reach a certain destination ('country border,' was the word that came up) that was just beyond the forest. And that was just what he was doing - running with all his might. The reason was unknown and vague, but it had something to do with the idea of revenge and limitless power. The trees were sweeping past him, the individual branches and trunks too blurred to count them. He was sprinting as fast as his legs would go though he recognized neither the setting nor the clothes that were put on his back.
Plus the small and insignificant fact that he was being chased by dangerous and lethal beings…
By who or why was beyond him, but there were people running not too far behind. As far as he could tell, he had a group of friend backing him up as well, trying to give him time to run from the scene - especially one particular blond boy…
As if to respond to this train of thought, a voice called out somewhat muffled by the long distance between them.
"You cowardly bastard! Just wait until I catch up with you! I'm going to make you regret ever leaving us in the first place!"
But Harry kept on running, leaping from tree-branch to tree-branch, not even bothering to take a break from exhaustion or fatigue. He wasn't tired anyway. Brushing his hair out of his eyes, he noticed that he didn't have his glasses on either. Contacts, maybe? But this was given very little thought as something came flying from behind and hit the tree he had just leapt from. Crouching down on the floor, Harry took one look back as he saw the blond figure steadily draw closer before continuing in the direction he had been going…
He finally reached it - the waterfall; the edge of the country; the only thing standing in the way between him and his future. Behind him was the past, that unforgettable pit of malice and hell… There, he was revered as the boy who survived a horrible massacre - the only one ever known to have escaped his terrible fate… The distant noise of a subtle shock wave made the birds scatter into the air as two enemies fought over his flight from home.
His allies should have gotten rid of all of the pesky insects that were chasing him. Especially if what his senses told him were true - the redheaded pest was chasing him too… He was the only one even worth putting any effort into fighting - the smart brainiac, the bumbling chubby boy, the annoying blond git - they were just flies… He looked forward to dueling again…. Their previous match had been interrupted the last time by an unfortunate turn of events…
He half expected the redhead to step out from the shadows. When he sensed someone starting to speak, he couldn't help but feel that his anticipation for the much-waited opponent fell drastically. It wasn't who he wished it to be…
"Why do you hate him?" the figure from the shadows said. "Why do you try so hard to gain power to defeat this guy?"
The voice came from behind. Without looking, Harry knew who it was, who was following him, what he wanted… He whirled around, bringing up his past to memory, reliving his hurt, his pain, his suffering…
"And why do you want to know?"
The blond figure shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the murderous glare, unmoved by the 'killer intent' rising in the atmosphere.
"Orders from the old hag herself… Ever since the old guy in charge died, she's been acting as the commander-in-chief of the place… You should have known that - it wasn't that long ago…"
He didn't, but the blond did not seem to realize this. Harry hadn't been paying attention to the recent turn of events… Who died? Who took charge? The other boy became quiet, and for a while the wind exchanged the unspoken words between the two. The blond boy spoke up, this time stating what was on both of their minds.
"It's not like running away will get you anywhere…"
Harry felt the tips of his eyes grow hot with energy, anger building up at the very pit of his stomach with every step the boy took to get closer to him.
"Why? You want to know why?" he asked, answering the first question that had been spoken when the two met just now. "He killed MY PARENTS! THAT'S WHY!"
He could see her - his mother - screaming in agony as she drew her last breath before the killer left her there, her body an empty shell without her soul encased within… This was just a part of his imagination, he knew. He never got to see her die… Or did he? Conflicting images kept coming to him, flooding his senses with unfamiliar scenes… He was much too young to have remembered the details… But something else inside of him told otherwise - she was dead before he could have gotten home from training that day…
"He killed my family! He took everything away from me!"
The thing was that the words coming out of his mouth were automatic as if it he was in someone else's body. These emotions… these memories… even these movements (last time he checked, he could not perform a somersault from the top of a tree branch to the floor twenty feet below)… they weren't his, that was for sure… Yet at the same time, they were…
He felt like a mannequin on tape stuck in 'play' mode. He couldn't control what he was doing, what he was saying… Everything seemed to go on with or without his consent. He was a soul trapped within a body that moved on its own…
It was strange… No matter how hard he tried, Harry couldn't get anything straight. For instance, he knew that he went to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But a little voice in his head said that he'd been going to an academy for all of his life… He couldn't recall what his family looked like either…
"He made my life miserable - a living hell! He is the reason why I'm famous! Why I'm infamous!"
First his mother had red hair and green eyes, then she had black hair and dark eyes. Harry's mom was a shufu ('a housewife'), then she was working along side of a Ministry. She was brave and brilliant, and then quiet and soft-spoken. First she would see him off to school with his backpack and lunch pail, then he would get a glimpse of her through the Mirror of Erised - see her scream through the Dementors' horrid visions…
He didn't know what was going on, why this person in front of him had made him so angry. As far as he knew, Draco would never act this way - to stand before him to ask why he hated Voldemortso. Wasn't it Malfoy who wanted to team up with the Dark Lord in the first place?
"That bastard killed them all!"
He silently slipped a hand inside a pocket and picked up something vaguely familiar. Closing his fist around his weapon, he clenched his teeth and spat out his last warning, hoping that his opponent would step aside, hoping at the same time that he wouldn't.
"Now get out of my way before I kill you!"
His opponent merely scoffed.
"You think I'm going to lose to a wimp like you? Forget it!"
Fingering what he assumed to be his wand (he wasn't sure - everything seemed to be so out of place), Harry grinned fiercely, eyes filled with lust for blood. He brought out his weapon and started twirling around on his index finger.
"I'm warning you," Harry said evenly with deliberate coolness. "Get. Out. Of. My. WAY!"
He raised the right hand over his head, the object grasped firmly with relative ease. He wanted to shout 'Expelliramus' at the top of his lungs to disarm the opponent who sported a similar weapon as the one he himself was carrying. Heck, he wanted to shout a lot of things at this guy - 'Stupefy' - 'Crucio' - 'Avada Kedavra' - each worse then the last… But things did not turn out the way he expected…
As fast as he had raised his hand, his opponent shot something in his general direction. It was a conjured metal object that was magicked to follow heat signatures. Thinking quickly, Harry jumped aside, allowing the projectile to sweep past him back to its owner. They brandished their weapons again before slowly moving their feet in an almost dance-like way, circling around each other without regards to the time that was passing by.
The deafening roar of the falling water had no impact as the two 'mortal rivals' stood in complete silence, anticipating their opponent's next move.
After a few more minutes of tediously attacking and blocking, Harry made a more daring move and sent the blond teen somersaulting with a well-aimed kick to the chest. The boy retaliated and charged, throwing Harry over the waterfall to the perilous rocks below. But before he could fall into the water, he was surprised to see that he was standing on the cliff-side with a magical charm placed on the bottom of his feet to keep him from losing his grip.
And the blond charged at him again, pausing only to regain his balance as they slowly fought their way down the cliff and onto solid land again. All the while, Harry's anger continued to grow with an unknown hatred, fueling his adrenaline, coaxing him to keep on fighting.
And by mistake, he had tapped something deep inside of his very being… The white-hot anger that had been boiling inside had finally burst into flame. It was as if time itself had slowed down allowing him to see things before they even happened.
He felt powerful. The raw energy that was built within him had come out of his right hand, forming a barrier of magic so strong and majestic that he had at first mistaken it for the Patronus Charm. But his Corpeal Patronus was a stag, not some shapeless ball of energy that crackled with each jolt.
And the blond boy wasn't a bit fazed. He too had a mass of energy formed within his hand as he waited for Harry to finish preparing his attack. By now, the two had backed away from each other long enough to put considerable distance between them. Unable to wait any longer, the blond starting sprinting at the black-haired teen. Harry followed suit and started running as well, their meeting point destined somewhere near the bottom of the waterfall…
"SASUKE!"
Harry ignored the blond calling his name and chose to feed more energy into the spell he was casting. A burst of brilliant light shot out from his hand and connected with the other boy's attack… He heard himself yell something indistinguishable before he saw the two energies collide and erupt, emitting a force so radiant that he felt like he was going blind from its sheer magnitude…
"DIE NARUTO!"
There was an explosion that rocked the ground and sent a tremendous wave of pure energy that could be seen all the way from the watchtowers located in Konoha Gakure. Harry was knocked backwards and ran into the rock statue that was carved into the cliff side. His head started throbbing painfully as a prickling sensation started making his left shoulder burn as if it were on fire.
And the world started fading to black…
He dimly realized that the other boy was still breathing and he himself was losing consciousness. But as he felt his legs buckle underneath him, he woke up suddenly, clutching his bed covers while drenched in cold sweat… Looking around, he quickly identified all of the objects in the room as his own. What had just 'happened' had merely been a dream… The forest, the mountains, the waterfall - they had been a figment of his imagination. (1)
He was back home… As much as you could call a broken down and unwanted room, home… But Harry didn't care. Glancing at the clock that hung on the wall, he was startled to see that it was five past midnight - only a few minutes after had he fallen asleep.
He was now sixteen…
The next morning had turned out to be very interesting in the eyes of the spectators who watched the scene unfold before them in the usually calm and quiet corridors of the Leaky Cauldron.
First there had been an unusual girl roaming around the hallway, knocking on random doors. Nothing was strange except for the fact that she had pink hair and did not speak a work of English, or anything vaguely familiar for that matter.
Then there had been another teenager roaming the hallways, also asking random people a few questions in the same jargon. He seemed to be very agitated for he constantly scratched his blond hair and spoke in great volumes when (he thought) no one was listening.
Others had seen an oddly good-looking black-haired boy sitting in the dining room, absent-mindedly poking his breakfast with what appeared to be a set of thin wands. He was muttering under his breath while he played with his food, trying to pass the time by complaining to no one in particular. At least these eggs didn't turn a slight shade of green or magenta with his not-so-gentle prodding.
If there had been a translator available in the building, he or she would have immediately said that this occurrence was no big deal as the group of children was looking for their teacher who had mysteriously disappeared on them. The few people who had met these new strangers the day before were mildly curious, but did nothing to interact with them. New wizards came in every so often, and cultural barriers were a hindrance no one wanted to bother with.
Then again, having your only legal 'guardian' suddenly vanish in the middle of a strange and potentially dangerous world was an obstacle to be reckoned with. Kakashi-sensei had not shown up last night like he had promised he would, and the shinobi were getting increasingly worried. Not for the jounin's safety, but for the completion of their mission.
The pony-tailed boy? As far as anyone knew (which consisted of Tom and possibly one of the maids who cleaned the windows), he was sitting on the roof of the edifice, watching the gloomy grey clouds roll across the sky.
"London doesn't have the nice weather like 'China' does…" (2)
Harry woke up to the sounds of someone knocking harshly on the door. Quickly scrambling out of bed, he made sure that none of his wizarding materials could be seen underneath the bed covers as he cautiously approached the other side of his room. Carefully walking over the random objects lying on the floor, he reached the door with relative ease. The knocking stopped briefly to be replaced by a somewhat muffled voice on the other side.
"Wake up, boy, or you'll be scrubbing dishes before your friends come and pick you up!"
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," he quickly answered. His aunt gruffed in reply before walking back downstairs to the kitchen.
Friends? Why would they be coming here? No one had really mentioned anything about visiting him on his birthday, not unless you counted owling gifts as 'visiting'… Besides, if this was the Durselys' idea of a birthday present, then it sure wasn't a good one. The best thing they could ever do to him would be to completely ignore him for the rest of the day instead of trying to give him whatever they considered good enough to be his 'presents'. Then again, Dobby would probably have liked the things Harry might just pass on instead of keeping for himself…
Wait… Ron had hinted in one of his letters that someone from the Order might drop by to see how he was doing just in case the Dursleys had been mistreating him again. Harry just hoped that nothing drastic was going to happen like the last few times wizards had ended up interacting with his relatives.
'Please don't let them blow-up the living room…'
As if on cue, Uncle Vernon's voice bellowed from the kitchen table.
"BOY! YOU'D BETTER MAKE SURE THOSE 'FRIENDS' OF YOURS DON'T DO ANYTHING STUPID!"
He groaned. If the Weasleys came, just how was he going to keep them in line? He was hoping that perhaps some other member of the Order would drop by instead… But then again, 'visiting' wasn't the same as being 'picked up'… He wasn't sure, but neither of his friends had said that he was actually leaving the Dursleys any time soon. Maybe his aunt had gotten her hopes up just a tad bit too high this time around…
A sound interrupted his thoughts a he finally managed to put on a pair of decent jeans. After a few seconds, he registered that it was the doorbell - someone was already here! A pair of heavy-set footsteps quickly reached the door as Harry flung on a green sweater and scrambled out of his room, glasses hanging askew on his face. The sight that greeted him at the end of the staircase, however, made him wish he hadn't come out at all.
There was an intimidating man at the door with a stern face and briefcase in hand. He looked like what one would call a lawyer judging from his attire, clean-cut appearance, and imposing demeanor. The man cleared his throat and straightened his tie before acknowledging the people in the room.
"Excuse me, is there a Mr. Vernon Dursley residing in this house?"
Harry was hoping that this wasn't the man Dumbledore had sent because he looked a little too 'muggle' for anyone to take seriously. Don't forget scary. He looked too mean to be a friend as well. Then again, Mad Eye Moody was distorted enough to make anyone wary. A sharp, repulsedlook from the stranger that was directed to the Dursley's back made Harry grimace.
'Ouch. He doesn't seem like the type Dumbledore would send...'
But at least he hadn't been seen.
Dudley, on the other hand, was ecstatic that it wasn't one of those people. This man looked like he was a businessman more than the wizards he feared, so he had no trouble warming up to the stranger. Harry took this chance to quickly sneak back upstairs and sat in the hallway. At least this way, he would be safe from being spotted and he would still be able to hear what was going on in kitchen.
"Why, of course, good Sir," he replied, ushering the lawyer/businessman in. "He is in the dining room reading the morning paper."
"Thank you," he said, stepping out of the entrance way. "I hope I am not interrupting anything…"
"Of course not," Vernon answered. "Might I ask the occasion of this visit?"
"Ah, yes. Pardon my intrusion. My name is Severus Snape, and I am here from the local Public Relations Department." (3)
At this point, Harry gave a start. Snape? As in the Snape? What on earth's name was he doing here?
"Public Relations?"
"Yes, it is a branch of the government. I am a social worker."
Harry raised an eyebrow. Social worker? Since when was Professor Snape working on behalf of the government?
"Oh, I see…" This time, Vernon was looking a little flustered. "I a-afraid I don't know exactly why you would be visiting my ho-"
"I have received several anonymous tips from different people concerning the well-being of a certain individual in your household. Would you mind if I look around a bit?"
At this point, the Dursleys were dreading what was going to happen if the man were to go upstairs and discover a little disheveled boy sporting bruises on his arms and legs, wearing tattered clothing that was much too big on him…
"Why, of course," Vernon shakily stood up from his chair and pointed in the direction of the parlor room. "If you would please…" The man nodded in affirmation.
Before opening the door, Vernon turned to Dudley and said loud enough for Harry to hear clearly, "Why don't you go upstairs and clean any trash from your room?"
It was understood that Harry had to make himself scarce. If the social worker were to find him in this state, then he would be taken away from his aunt and uncle's house. As much as he loved the idea, this was the only place that provided an adequate sense of protection and security to both himself and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix.
Protection from Voldemort, that is… His relatives still loved to abuse him by making him do an unreasonable amount of chores everyday while continually bossing him around. At least Death Eaters couldn't just barge in with the blood-charm whatchamacallit thing in place. Or at least, he hoped not…
Harry wasn't a specialist on charms or sacrifices, but he was betting his life on the fact that no one had ever tried to attack him inside Petunia's house yet. Outside was a different matter… The Dementors from last summer were proof enough. Too bad the charm didn't keep away vengeful Muggles who had a knack of making Harry's life miserable either…
Dudley's labored climbing up the stairs made him jerk back to the problem at hand.
Right. Social worker. Here…
"Mum's said to bring you downstairs to the cupboard again," he said in the quietest whisper he could manage. Harry just followed the small giant down and sighed as Petunia signaled to his old room. He couldn't help but make sarcastic remarks to himself about the stupidity of the situation.
Vernon, on the other hand, was talking loudly to the 'guest' in order to cover up any noises that might have been made during the course of 'Find A Place to Hide Harry'.
After a great many minutes of hearing his uncle assert in a great voice that there was 'nothing he was hiding', Harry's feeling of unease lessened somewhat. The social worker had already visited upstairs and seemed to have found nothing out of the ordinary. Except…
"I am just curious, Mr. Dursley. Why is there an extra bed here when it is clear that there are only three occupants in the house?"
"Oh, that's for my sister Marge. She usually visits us during the holidays and spends the weekend here."
"And leaves her personal belongings lying about the room?"
Harry heard a small curse escape from his uncle's mouth as they came back downstairs.
'Well, at least the spiders seem to be happy to have me here…' he thought.
"Those are my little Dudder's things. He likes to work in the guest room sometimes when he can't concentrate in his own."
The man seemed to buy that explanation as he followed Vernon back towards where they had started.
"Ah, then I take it that he likes history?"
"Eh?" Vernon's confusion was made known in his voice.
The two adults stopped right in front of the cupboard where Harry was hiding. Trying to get a better view, the teenager chanced a quick peek through the metal vents on the door. Unfortunately, the man's back was facing him.
"History. Your son seems to have a keen interest on the earlier civilizations. Half of the things in that room were modeled after more traditional objects than the ones you find in the marketplace today."
The man shifted his weight a little, and for a brief instant, Harry saw something in the social worker's hands. Something that looked like it belonged back in his room under his desk…
"Like this quill for an example. British laws have long ago outlawed the making of calligraphy pens from quill feathers. Your son happened to have this extremely well-made imitation. I didn't know that they sold these things in the market."
Maybe Professor Snape had taken some Polyjuice Potion to make him look like a Muggle so that he had a way of sneaking Harry out of his house without his relatives getting too worked up about it?
Impossible. Harry was sure that the potion would have worn off by now if Snape had taken it before he entered the house. They had spent a long time talking in the parlor room about Uncle Vernon's business before taking their conversation out into the living room before actually going upstairs to do any searching around. Besides, the Snape he knew wasn't that much of a Muggle know-it-all. There was no way that he would have been able to come up with all that crap about working for the government and such…
His uncle looked like he was sweating bullets as he started staring in the direction of a not-so-insignificant cupboard under the staircase. Harry himself felt the way his uncle looked. How the heck did this guy find his Hogwarts things?
"Y-yes. It appears to be that way…"
For a brief second, the man stared hard at the object in his hands as if trying to bore a hole through it before handing it to Vernon.
"I'd best be going now. My superiors would want me to finish my report as soon as possible." His uncle dumbly nodded as an answer before showing the man to the door. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. After the man went away, he would be able to wait for his friends in peace…
Maybe, just maybe it was possible that there was (as much as he hated the thought) another Severus Snape in this world… One who looked younger, had his brown hair trimmed in a barber shop, wore an expensive suit, (hopefully had no relation to his Potions Master) and didn't work for Hogwarts?
Improbable, but not impossible…
"Oh, there was one thing I forgot to do…" The man stopped walking towards the door and faced the Petunia and Dudley who had just emerged from hiding in the kitchen.
"Do any of you know of a Harry Potter?"
Harry's breathing quickened. The idea of the man being an ordinary Muggle was half-tossed out the window by now… If it really had been Professor Snape, wouldn't he have turned back within an hour after coming here?
Or maybe it was possible that the whole this-guy-has-the-same-name-as-someone-I-know thing wasn't a weird coincidence at all, but a Death Eater in disguise using the Professor's name to buy Harry a false sense of security?
Definitely not impossible…
"Harry Potter? Never heard of him. My sister was married to a man named Potter, but they died years ago in a car accident after they had too much to drink from a Halloween party."
Fortunately, Harry had enough sense to keep from rebutting his aunt's lie. But that didn't stop the boards from creaking when he moved around to keep the circulation in his legs from getting cut off. Plus it didn't help that his elbow ran into a shelf and knocked off a bowling ball and a few other objects such as shoes and umbrellas from the weakened boards. Harry didn't realize that the Dursleys had filled the old closet with a few things after he had moved out. From the silence in the rest of the room, Harry assumed that the others had heard him moving and the objects falling as well.
"What exactly are you trying to hide from me, Dursley? Is it something you don't want me to find?" the man asked in an almost dangerous tone.
As if shaken by his state of panic, Vernon cast a wary look at the cupboard.
"Is it, by chance, hidden in that place under the stairs? I've noticed that you tended to glance in that direction every time I hit upon a tedious subject."
'Oh crapcrapcrapcrapcr-'
The last thing he wanted was to be discovered after all the hiding he had done.
And quite suddenly, Harry Potter found himself staring face-to-face with a man he had never met before in his life.
"Hello, Mr. Potter. Good to be finally meeting you at last."
To Be Continued…
Author's Notes:
1. What I was trying to get across was that Harry dreamed that he was Sasuke (kinda like that whole episode where Harry thought he was the snake?). He still retains his memory as Harry, but at the same time kinda gets a glimpse into Uchiha's life. So he had a very mild case of identity crisis while he was trying to figure out what exactly was going on. The words that randomly float up are like explanations for the things he's not familiar with and give Harry something to think about. He thinks that this is one of those made-up dreams people conjure after watching a movie or something. But you know better, right? Just about everything here was done on purpose.
2. I'm totally making this up. I know that the five shinobi countries do not exist in the wizarding world, but the map that Kakashi used to illustrate one of his points in the second volume has a striking resemblance to the map of China. Except that the Hidden Cloud is where the Yellow Sea resides, amongst a bunch of other things… You know how the wizards have supposedly blocked off their ministry and schools from modern technology? So have the ninjas. At least, that's what I'm implying. How else can they escape from being noticed with the satellites and all? But yeah, the whole concept is weird… Who's ever heard of ninjas in China speaking Japanese? XD
3. I know nothing about this either. Totally BS-ing the info here as well…
Now that you know about these, feel free to re-read the chap and see if things make a little more sense… If you disagree or have some doubts, ask a question. Just keep in mind that I already mentioned that it's AU and I'm taking a lot of liberty with both series… If you spot any mistakes, please notify me at once. I'd like to acknowledge them by the next chapter, or watch out for any more potential ones.
Lol. And just for my amusement, can you guys tell me what you thought was going on? I just wanted to know… 'Cuz I was trying not to mention names beforehand to give it away… Btw, Harry's dream should look familiar to you… It was my tweaked version of the battle between Naruto and Sasuke while Uchiha was trying to run to Orochimaru… I'll be posting more information about what happened in flashback modes sometime in future chapters.
Thanks to all of the wonderful people who have read and reviewed this story. Hugs go to the people who have encouraged me to continue to write despite my horrendous flaws and mistakes that keep popping up right and left. I heart you guys.
Yatsuka Hikagi
February 19, 2005