Title: Hope On The Wind

Author: Reinamy

Fandom(s): Harry Potter, Naruto

Pairing: TBD (see a/n)

Summary: Death is a doorway. When Harria Potter dies, she steps through and ends up in another world unlike anything she's ever seen before. There, she does the only thing she can do—she survives.

Disclaimer: This is non-profitable fan work. I own nothing. Title/Lyrics borrowed from the song "Little One" by Beck.


Warnings: AU, genderswap (fem!HP), crossover, dimension travel, language, mature themes, OOC-ness, multiple POV switching, relatively little plot, shameful lack of politics, Master of Death!HP, excessive use of the 'Artistic License' card, pairing undetermined.


Author's Note: First and foremost, this is not meant to be a very serious fic. It won't be particularly plotty or delve too heavily into politics, the war, etc. Just a lot of character interaction and Fem!Harry being all enigmatic and awesome. I'm writing this for fun while I work on the heavier stuff, not much else.

Now that that's out of the way, here's some other things that need mentioning:

[1] HP's magic has been heavily influenced by the other worlds she's traveled to. Basically, it's not the same as in HP canon.

[2] Pairings. I'm constantly going back and forth between HP/Anko and HP/Kakashi. Maybe HP/Gai. Not sure which. It may just stay Gen (no pairing). Feel free to throw suggestions my way.

[3] HP's Bingo Book moniker. It's tacky, but I seriously could not come up with anything better. I'm open to suggestions.

[4] Chapters will be updated sporadically. Lengths will vary. This is not beta'd (PM me if you'd like to volunteer).

*Ten points if you can guess where the prologue takes place.


PROLOGUE

. . .


Shadowed eyes roamed over the carcass of a metropolis that had once been full of life. Where towering buildings and extravagant domes once stood, now endless knolls of rubble took its place, stone, metal, and wood entwined together to form jagged arches that weaved through upturned land.

The remnants of a lost city rose above the filthy surface of an ocean spoiled by bloated corpses and driftwood. Soot-colored waves crashed against the serrated shoreline and further, reaching into the fissures and planes of a temple brought to its knees. In the distance a vivid moon shimmered against a grey backdrop. There were no stars; none would dare.

Only one person had survived the extinction of an entire people, an entire culture, an entire way of life, and that survivor was trudging through the dredges of what remained, grimacing as it clung to her breeches, staining them red and brown.

Around her, pyreflies glowed like firelight, iridescent airstreams trailing behind them.

"Go to sleep, we're so tired now," the sole survivor sang absently, but it was drowned out by the whistling winds and swept away to places unknown.

"Altogether in a snake pit of souls…" she trailed off, climbing onto a flat-surfaced sarsen on the outskirts of the sea. Her hair whipped around her as the winds picked up, carrying with them scents that burned her nose. With folded arms she turned around in a circle, taking in the remnants of the place she had called home for nearly seventy years.

Seventy hellish years.

"I suppose this is as good a place as any," she murmured to herself, coming to a still and reaching for the khyber knife she kept holstered to her waist satchel. She unsheathed the magnificent dagger, which had been a gift from one of the many that now slept against the ocean floor, and held the gilded hilt beneath a bandaged hand. A sliver of moonlight cut across the needle-tip, forming a miniature glow-sphere, and when she lifted it she could see her green eyes reflected clearly from the blade. She lowered the knife, not liking what she saw.

The scabbard fell to the stone ground with a thundering clatter. The sound coaxed her from her reverie and with reluctance she turned her thoughts away from the then and focused on the now.

Or more specifically, the soon.

"A good as time as any, too," she continued. There was nothing left for her here; not anymore. The people that had become her friends, her allies, her brothers and sisters in arms, had been taken to a place she could not follow, no matter how deeply she yearned to go.

With a wry smile that stretched like a wound against her face, she gripped the hilt tightly with perfectly steady hands and aimed the glinting tip at her chest. The world narrowed, then darkened, as her eyes fell shut.

"New days, throw your chains away, to try to hang your hopes on the wind—"

The last survivor thrust. She crumpled. She perished.

She fell, and fell, and fell.


...


Elsewhere, a tear appeared in the fabric of reality.

A flaming sphere shot through and the tear resealed.

In the black sea of space soared a meteoroid radiant as any star.

Streaks of gold and crimson fire trailed in its wake.

But if one were to look closer, they would see

that it wasn't a meteoroid at all.

It wasn't anything at all...

...until it was.


...


CHAPTER ONE


Konohagakure no Sato.

The only Hidden Village she had yet to step foot in since she landed in this war-scarred world known as the Elemental Nations eight years ago—where warriors known as ninja wielded magic, or 'chakra', and security was a luxury afforded only to those strong enough to create it for themselves.

She'd escaped one hellhole only to land in another. The irony.

As she walked up a winding dirt road encased on both sides by forestry, the first thing she noticed was the famed Hokage Mountain peeking out from above a sea of trees, grim effigies of the village's Hokage carved into the mountainside. Even from so far away it felt like their stony eyes were boring down on her—scrutinizing, judging. It was impressive.

Drawing closer were the immense, towering gates, now open, which connected to a sweeping stone bulwark that surrounded the village, hiding it from sight. Stationed in front of the gates like stone guardians were two shinobi, clad in leaf-green vests, and they monitored her approach with hawkish eyes.

For all intents and purposes, she was a civilian—at least as far as appearances went—but clearly they distinguished something of a fighter in her, for the watched her as one, eyes tracking her movements like she might be a threat.

Smart boys.

"Hand over your identification and state your business, please," one of them asked when she was no more than a few meters away.

"Potter Harria," she said, handing over her identification papers to the one who spoke. They were a perfect forgery that hailed her from Wave Country originally, and she didn't doubt that they would pass their inspection. "And I'm here to speak with the Sandaime Hokage about citizenship."

Her statement raised eyebrows. "Everything's in order, miss," one of the guards said dubiously as he returned her papers, "but you should know that the Hokage rarely deals with citizenship requests personally. There's a board that oversees—"

Paying little heed to the way the guards tensed, Harria stuffed a hand in the satchel at her side and pulled out a tattered book with a black cover. She opened it to an earmarked page and wordlessly handed it over to the nearest guard. Waited.

"I think," she said after a moment, "that your Hokage will like to see me."

A gust of wind suddenly swept past, carrying dust and leaf particles in spherical patterns. The trees that surrounded them swayed, foliage rustling like crinkling paper. It sent her shoulder-length hair flying in every direction and, with a frown, she swept it away from her face, revealing a lightning bolt scar at the center of her forehead, red like a wound still fresh.

The two guards saw her scar and paled.


...

Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Sandaime Hokage of Konohagakure no Sato, was not a man who was easily surprised. Sixty years of service, including thirty as the Hokage of a shinobi village, had seen to that. Few people realized that the life of a Hokage was rather mundane. After a certain point, that which that seemed exciting to civilians—assassinations, coups, politics, diplomacy, espionage, infiltration, interrogation, war—became hackneyed by extensive exposure. Each day that Hiruzen donned his Hokage hat and stepped into his office, it was with the expectation that someone would be out to take his life, that some government official would abuse his power, that some clan would try to secure more influence for themselves, that some country would be eager to incite another war. To a Hokage, it was simply a matter of course.

There were very few things that would surprise the man renowned as the God of the Shinobi throughout the Elemental Nations…but a requested audience with the Red Healer herself was one of them.

Hiruzen studied the woman who sat across from him. He knew who she was—of course he did. Everyone with access to a Bingo Book would have. The Red Healer, who was wanted by Iwagakure, Kumogakure, and Kirigakure for a 30 million ryo reward if she could be killed, and 60 million ryo if she could be captured alive. From what little intelligence he had gleaned, the first sighting of the woman had been a little over six years ago. At first there had been little more than rumors of a wandering healer who could perform medical feats that were unheard of. Something to keep an ear trained on, but nothing particularly noteworthy. At least until Iwa made a move to apprehend her and the woman slaughtered the entire comprising team.

And that had been the start of her infamy as the Red Healer, moniker chosen as much for the red scar on her forehead as it was for the puddles of blood she left her enemies behind in.

Not hostile unless provoked, was what one of his spies had reported. Didn't particularly enjoy being spied on, but wasn't aggressive unless she was antagonized. Difficult to track. Wandered the Elemental Nations, never settling down anywhere for too long. Was partial to small civilian villages where she spread 'miracles' and taught the basics of medicine and healing to anyone interested. Avoided the major shinobi villages at all costs. Killed those who made attempts to subdue her without remorse, but always spared the younger shinobi. Was an adept fighter, showed proficiency in ninjutsu, kenjutsu, and taijutsu, and due to the unusual coloring of her eyes, likely had a doujutsu of some sort. Unconfirmed.

For a time, Hiruzen had considered sending Jiraiya to make contact with her. The woman was an anomaly, and a potentially dangerous one. No village had claimed her, which meant she was unaffiliated and her loyalties, if she had any, were unknown. An asset if she could swear fealty to Konoha, but the risk was high. In the end, Jiraiya had convinced him to let her be for the time being. The way Kiri, Kumo, and Iwa were out for her blood was an indicator that she was, at least, not affiliated with their more powerful enemies, and her staunch avoidance of shinobi villages told that she had no intention of being involved in shinobi matters.

At the time, Hiruzen had simply agreed with him, not wanting to waste precious resources on insignificant matters when they were still recovering from the Kyuubi's attack three years prior. Now, he had to wonder if he'd made the right decision.

"Why Konohagakure?" Hiruzen asked after a long moment.

"There are various reasons," the Red Healer—Potter Harria said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "but the primary one is that I want to settle down. I can't do that when there are people after me all the time. A hidden village would offer me security to set up my practice without the threat of being regularly attacked. Of course, I had to take into account that three of the five have bounties on my head."

"Why not Sunagakure? As far as I'm aware, they aren't requesting one, either."

She leveled him with a flat look. "I burn easily."

Right. Hiruzen sighed inwardly as he contemplated their discussion thus far. One thing was certain—he couldn't deny her citizenship, not when it would lose him such an opportunity to secure an asset of her caliber. Fighting ability notwithstanding, the woman had healing capabilities and knowledge that would only benefit the village. Moreover, it was an opportunity to keep an eye on her, study her. It was a risk, but within a shinobi village everything was. That was how things were gained.

Not hostile unless provoked—but still capable of being hostile. That she had never made a move against a Konoha shinobi was in her favor, but the fact that she had absolutely no contact with them in the past was not. Her history, her activities, her agendas, were just as foreign to him as her features were. Originated from Wave Country, her identification papers stated. Unlikely.

"Despite being, for all intents and purposes, a civilian," what a laughable notion, "you understand that I can neither grant you immediate citizenship, nor free access to the village. If you wish to reside here you will be monitored by an ANBU guard at all times for the duration of however long I see fit. Because of your inclusion within the Bingo Book you will also," he paused, "need to speak with the head of the Torture and Interrogation department to ensure that you are as you say, that you have no affiliations to other hidden villages, and that you are not a threat to the safety of this village."

A moment of tense silence passed. "To speak with," she pressed, eyes hard.

Hiruzen inclined his head. "Yes. And it will remain that way unless you've ever committed a crime against this village, or intend to do so in the future."

Astonishingly, the woman lost some of her apprehension and shrugged. "That's fine."

"We will also need to discuss the particulars of your practice. Generally speaking, what is it that you intend to do here?"

She leaned into her chair in a manner that bespoke her ease. "I want to open a small clinic. I realize that Konoha, as a hidden village, likely has a hospital or two, but my methods are my own." Her eyes narrowed, as if daring the Hokage to try to force her hand. "My healing abilities are interconnected with my unique abilities, so it's nigh impossible anyone would be able to recreate them, though I'm more than willing to share my general knowledge and some of the recipes for my personal tonics and ointments, which I hope to sell."

"What areas of healing do you specialize in?" Hiruzen asked, choosing for the moment to ignore her casual mentioning of 'unique abilities'. They would discuss that later, with Ibiki.

"A vast spectrum. Everything from broken bones and punctured lungs to chronic illnesses, though of course some are beyond my ability to cure."

"I see," Hiruzen muttered, mind whirling. "And how—"

"It's not a kekkei genkai, if that's what you were about to ask, though it's something similar, I imagine. My parents died when I was an infant, and I was raised by people who were unfamiliar with my family's biologically induced skill set. All I've learned has been the result of experimentation and self-study."

Either Potter Harria was an excellent liar, or she was telling the truth. Likely a combination of both. The best lies were, after all, laced with slivers of truth.

"Moreover," she continued blithely, "I have no intention of playing lab rat to sate your curiosity. I abhor human experimentation on principal, and I'm especially adverse to it when I'm the test subject. If your reason for granting me citizenship is to strap me to a table and play doctor, then I'll take my chances in Suna."

Hiruzen grimaced inwardly at her insinuation, which wrought memories of Orochimaru that he'd rather not think about. Granted, her accusations were likely well-placed. There was a reason the bounty reward was much higher if she could be brought in alive. As Hokage, he could see as well as understand the benefits of studying whatever powers she might have and securing it for the village through whatever progeny she'd create. As a human being, his mind balked.

"Potter-san—you, who have three considerable bounties on your head and unknown loyalties, wish to secure a place for yourself in this village, and yet, by my understanding, you will not offer information on whatever 'powers' you might have or share your techniques with the medics of this village. Tell me, then, what is it to be gained from granting an anomaly such as yourself citizenship?"

The woman cocked her head to the side in a bird-like manner. "Me." At Hiruzen's raised brow, she elaborated, "My talents. Think of me as an artisan. My techniques, as you call them, are the secrets of my trade. Why would I share them? However, as a citizen I would allow you access to the fruits of my craft, and I assure you, Hokage-sama, you will want them." The grin that spread across her lips was predatory. "I am very, very good at what I do."

Her expression blanked once more and she shrugged dismissively. "You'd do well to take me up on my offer. Shinobi villages are always in need of skilled medics, and from what I hear, your best is currently making her way through every bar and casino the Elemental Nations has to offer. I'm an asset however you want to look at it."

Hiruzen hid a wince at the apt description of the current going-ons of his past student. He shoved the thought from his mind, more out of habit than disinclination to think of her, and considered the woman's….sales pitch, because that was certainly what it was. She was the product, and she was selling—no, borrowing out—her talents to the village. Had Hiruzen any qualms before, they were gone down, snuffed out from the weight of her logic.

What she said was true. They were in need of skilled medics—dangerously so—and the Elders would flay him alive if he let this opportunity go amiss.

"Then I suppose I should welcome you to Konoha, Potter-san," Hiruzen said, ignoring the gleam of triumph that flashed across her eyes. "Boar!" he barked, and at once the ANBU hiding in the shadows appeared before his desk, one fist pressed over his heart, head bowed in respect as he awaited orders. It did not go unnoticed that Potter hadn't so much as blinked at the man's sudden appearance.

"Yes, Hokage-sama?"

"Bring Morino Ibiki to me. Immediately."

"Yes, Hokage-sama," Boar intoned before vanishing in a blur.

Hiruzen trained his gaze once more on the conundrum sitting before him. "Before anything else, Potter-san, it's prudent that I ask you this myself. Are you a threat to this village?"

"I can be," she said simply, startling Hiruzen with her blunt honesty and making the ANBU behind him stiffen uneasily. "But I'm sure you have enough intelligence on me to know that I'm never hostile first. Make no attempts to capture or harm me, and I won't act in self-defense."

Somehow, her confirmation about being a threat abated more of his concerns than a vehement denial would have.


...

"Have you heard?" a newly promoted Jounin was saying as Kakashi walked into the Jounin Standby Station, eyes sweeping over the sun-bright room—first to catalogue who was there, second to check for anomalies, and third to ascertain that his favorite seat had not been taken. It wasn't, and he made a beeline for it, ignoring everyone else until it had been claimed.

"Heard what?" That was Genma.

"The Red Healer requested citizenship to Konoha!"

Kakashi hands paused as they were opening his pristine copy of Icha Icha: Paradise. He rolled his head to the side, interest piqued.

"It's true," Asuma said, heavily flopping into the sofa across from him. Anko squeezed in next to him, dragging Kurenai down with her.

"When was this?" Kakashi asked. He'd only just returned from a three-week long mission two days ago, so it was news to him. "And you're sure it was the Red Healer?"

"Ten days ago, thereabout, and yes I'm sure. The Hokage confirmed it."

"Wait, wait, who's this Red Healer? And why haven't I heard about it if it's so important?" Anko demanded, looking between them.

"The Hokage isn't going out of his way to broadcast it," Asuma explained as he pulled a familiar book out of thin air, flipped it open, and passed it to her, finger acting as a bookmark.

Anko snatched it away from him and read the information. Kurenai, who was reading over her shoulder, whistled.

"I've only heard snippets about her in the past. That's a hefty bounty for someone renowned as a healer, though I'm guessing her ranking probably has something to do with it. She's unaffiliated?"

Kakashi hefted it from Anko's fingers while she was distracted and peered at the page. A-rank, foreign born, possible kekkei genkai, possibly a doujutsu, skilled in numerous shinobi arts but unaffiliated, not a missing-nin...he hummed at the bounty on her head as he studied the sketch. It was of a girl, young, maybe sixteen or so, and she was definitely a foreigner, though Kakashi had never met anyone with her features before. She was pretty in an unconventional way and didn't look like the type of person dangerous enough to have Iwa, Kiri, and Kumo after her.

Then again, appearances were often deceiving.

"I've only heard a little about her," Kakashi commented, returning the book to Asuma. "And you say she wants citizenship? Why here?"

"According to dad, she wants to settle down. Her own words were 'it's difficult to do when three shinobi villages out for your head'."

I bet, Kakashi thought with a snort. "So she wants to be a Konoha-nin?"

Asuma shook his head, then said while he was tapping the cinders of his cigarette into an ashtray, "That's the thing. Despite her obvious skill, she wants to start her own medicine practice. It makes sense, though. She's known as the Red Healer. I guess killing enemy-nin is just a side hobby."

Anko barked a laugh, and even Kurenai couldn't stifle a chuckle.

"She sounds interesting," Raidou commented from behind him. He took a seat on the chair arm, ignoring Kakashi's pointed glare, and continued, "I heard her healing abilities are unparalleled. Must be if the Hokage is willing to risk the wrath of the countries that have bounties on her head. I'd personally like to see what she could do."

"But what I wanna know," Anko said as she leaned forward, "is why she's opening a private practice instead of working at the shinobi hospital. That's kind of suspicious, isn't it?"

"You think everything's suspicious," Asuma said dryly, catching the dango stick she threw at his head with his forefinger and thumb. He snapped it in half.

"So do you," Anko shot back, pulling another stick from her pocket—because of course Anko carried spares on her—and sticking it in her mouth.

Pausing, Asuma nodded to concede her point.

"So who's going to check her out first?" Anko asked, steering the conversation to its previous direction. "'Cause I've gotta admit, she sounds interesting. I wanna know what she can do. Don't care about the healing thing so much, but she's got to be strong to to keep Kiri, Iwa, and Kumo off her ass for so long, right? Think she'd agree to a spar?"

"Maa, let the woman get settled first," Kakashi spoke up, burying his face in his novel again now that the conversation was becoming trite. "It's only been, what? Ten days you said, Asuma? Give her time to settle in before you lot show her how insane Konoha-nin can be."

"Speak for yourself," Anko grumbled, crossing her arms. Kakashi noted that the gesture did wonderful things for her cleavage. "And I'll give her a month, but no more!"

Kakashi hoped the woman was as resilient as the Bingo Book made her out to be, because she'd need to be if Anko took a keener interest in her. The rest of the group shared a look, and the Copy-nin knew he wasn't the only one thinking the same thing.


to be continued.


A/N: This is AU for a reason. I switched certain things around (i.e., Anko being a Jounin). If you read the warnings I did mention something about freely using my Artistic License card. Sorry if that bugs anyone. Also, I apologize about the formatting. FFN and line breaks don't have a very stable relationship, I'm afraid.

Next chapter will be up…sometime soon. Thanks for reading, and drop a comment on your way out.