Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Card Captor Sakura. Sue me and I'll poke you. Over and over again.

Harry Potter and the Power of the Blank Card

by MysticalMiSt

beta-read by Killersponges

Chapter 1: A Letter

A certain raven haired boy sat upon his bed. He seemed to be a rather ordinary boy at first, unable to sleep because of the heat. But at second glance, an onlooker would spot an ugly scar shaped like a lightning bolt running down his forehead, half covered by his messy black hair. He was Harry Potter, the boy who lived, possibly the most well known celebrity in all of the wizarding world. However, Harry was feeling far from heroic at the moment.

The night was extremely warm, which is to be expected during the summer, but that was not the only reason he was still awake. Harry awaited the return of his owl companion, Hedwig, who had left four hours earlier on a midnight flight around town. He supposed that Hedwig had headed for his friend, Hermione's home, as she had done for the past two years on the night of his birthday.

Time passed slowly for Harry, as it always did when he was waiting anxiously for something. Finally, the boy who lived saw a familiar speck of white in the distance. He hastily threw open his window as Hedwig soared into his room and landed softly on his outstretched arm. Three more owls followed the snowy owl, each landing with soft thumps on Harry's bed.

The smallest of the owls, whom Harry instantly recognized as a certain red-head's owl, buzzed around excitedly immediately after landing. Harry snatched Pig (for that was what the owl was named) out of the air and relieved it of its package, which was wrapped rather clumsily. Still, it's the thought that counts.

A card was stuck to the oddly shaped present. Harry opened it first, as it is always polite to read the card before opening the gift. He smiled as he saw the friendly, careless scrawl that was his friend's.

Hey mate,

Hope the muggles have been treating you right. Mum's been fussing about you ever since we left the station. "What if he's not being fed? Or perhaps that dreaded muggle man has put bars on his window again!"

Mum says she'd like for you to come over to the Burrow. Maybe we'll see each other soon.

Anyway, nothing much has been happening as of late. Happy birthday!

Ron

P.S. Mione's been pretty talkative about sewing as of late. I don't reckon you've heard from her yet, but beware! She's been trying to knit sweaters for everyone! Mum's never been more pleased about an enthusiastic knitting mate.

Harry had to grin. It would seem as if his friends could find something to do no matter how boring his summer appeared.

Carefully removing the wrapping from his gift, Harry was pleasantly surprised to find a large poster filled with portraits of famous Quidditch players. Some smiled and winked at him, others scowled and turned away.

Apart from his friends and his school, Quidditch was one of the things Harry missed the most. The sensation of speeding through the air had always been a thrill, a thrill he had been so unfairly deprived of last year.

Harry made a mental note to thank Ron later. He moved onto the next owl. It was a minute owl like Pig, but its eyes were a soft and friendly hue of golden brown. Its feathers were streaks of black and white that covered all of its eight inch body. Harry couldn't seem to remember seeing this owl anywhere, but quickly pushed that thought away when he spotted Hermione's neat handwriting on the card it held.

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday! I hope you've been enjoying your summer so far. I've been busy with homework and the knitting lessons Mrs. Weasley, but I've found sewing to be very exciting. The owl is mine, if you're wondering, My parents decided to get me one before school started again. Her name is Topaz, which I found fitting as it matches her eyes.

I hope you've been keeping up with your work as well. Ron hasn't even started on his essay for Potions, saying that he can always copy off of me if he needs to. Rubbish, I tell you.

Enjoy the gift, I knit it myself! It's the first sweater I've ever made.

Love from,

Hermione

P.S. Don't believe any of the rubbish Ron says about my knitting!

Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. He glanced over at the neatly wrapped package laying on his bed. Again, he carefully undid all the bindings and grinned when a thick, green knitted sweater fell onto his bed. The initials 'HP' were embroidered into the front in gold thread.

"Wow," he whispered. This is pretty good for a first...

Carefully tucking away both of his presents under some loose floorboards, Harry turned to the last owl. It carried two letters, one of which bore the Hogwarts crest. Tearing it open, he noted that is was the usual letter they received, informing them of what supplies would be needed for the school year. Setting it aside, he scanned the second letter. The envelope was a creamy color and smelled of ink and crisp parchment. Harry opened it with care, not wanting to ruin anything important inside. The letter was short and Harry recognized the seal to be the British Ministry of Magic's seal.

Dear Mr. Potter:

Your presence has been requested by an official in the Japanese Ministry of Magic. Escorts will be sent to your home on August 1st at 10:00 AM. Please be ready for immediate departure.

Yours sincerely,

Olivander Lakery Disanith

Minister of Magic

Harry blinked a few times. Minister of Magic? Since when did they have a new minister? He shrugged.

It's about time someone got rid of Fudge, he thought.

He reread the letter, noting the date.

"August 1st... tomorrow?" he asked himself. He sighed. Trust the ministry to tell him on such short notice.

He was quite excited though. Hopefully, after his meeting with the Japanese official, he would be free to go to the Burrow. In his excitement, he had completely disregarded the fact that he still had no idea why a Japanese Ministry of Magic official wished to meet with him.

Harry turned back to the owls, wanting to make sure of them were rested and fed, only to find that they had all left. He sighed again and decided to turn in for the night. He'd have to be ready for tomorrow.

The next morning, Harry was quite excited. He had trouble hiding it and Uncle Vernon noticed him smiling ever so slightly during breakfast.

"What are you smiling for, boy?" he asked, his tone demanding.

Harry's expression sobered a bit. "Nothing." His acting skills had improved over the past few years.

His uncle eyed him carefully. "I'll be watching you, boy, so don't you try any funny business."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied, emotionless.

After breakfast, he rushed back into his room and threw all of his belongings into his trunk. He dragged it downstairs as silently as possible, not wanting to alert his relatives of his departure.

Carefully placing his trunk and Hedwig's cage behind some bushes in the front yard, Harry sat patiently on the steps and waited for his escorts.

A few minutes later, a barely audible pop informed Harry of his chaperones' arrival. Looking up, he was elated to see his favorite teacher and good friend standing rather weakly in the front lawn.

"Professor Lupin!" he nearly shouted, he wasn't sure if the shouting was from surprise or from happiness.

The small man smiled. "It's good to see you, Harry. Not need to be formal, Remus will do."

The werewolf gestured to a rather ambiguous woman, whose hair was dyed (or was it natural?) an unbecoming shade of pink and neon green.

"I'd like to introduce you to Nymphadora Tonks. She's an old friend of mine and you'll probably be seeing more of her in time."

The color clashing woman bobbed her head vigorously and said, "Hiya Harry! Wow, It's so nice to meet you! Ole Lupin here seems to think pretty highly of you. Snape (that old bat) is an entirely different story, but who cares about him? I think we'll get a long fine, as long as you don't call me by my first name."

Harry was a bit overwhelmed at the moment. How fast could she talk? He nodded dumbly as she bombarded him with questions, not really giving him the chance to answer.

He was finally rescued when Lupin put a gentle hand on his shoulder and said, "I think it would be better if we were to get going now."

Tonks stopped talking (much to the surprise of Harry) and decided that that would be a wise choice. She pulled out an old newspaper and asked Harry if he knew about Portkeys.

Meekly, Harry replied affirmatively, and reached for the newspaper. Moments later, he felt the unwelcome jolt behind his navel and saw the angry face of his uncle before landing ungracefully in the lobby of the Ministry of Magic.

He felt someone (Lupin he was guessing) help him back onto his feet and direct him down a hallway.

Harry was somewhat dazed. He remembered this place. He remembered all of the unpleasant things from the Department of Mysteries. Most importantly, he remembered his godfather and what had become of him.

But he would say nothing. The tears that threatened to overflow his eyes and the pain he felt in losing his godfather was probably nothing compared to what Lupin felt. Harry would stay strong, knowing he had no right to cry in front of a man who had lost nearly everything, and some of it was caused by him.

"In here Harry," Lupin's voice snapped him back into reality and he was ushered into a comfortable room with a few plush white seats and a lush royal red carpet. Behind a desk sat a very pretty lady with reddish blonde hair, who was decidedly asian. Harry guessed that this was the official from the Japanese Ministry.

She perked up when she noticed him entering. She beamed and motioned for him to sit. Harry settled in one of the chairs, finding them just as pleasing to sit in as they were to look at. It was then he noticed that she was staring at him in a calculating fashion.

Her eyes were golden, but not a soft golden color like Hermione's owl. They were a piercing golden that bore straight through his eyes and into his soul. Her eyes reminded him of a hawk's. Of course, staring is hardly polite, and she soon composed herself.

"Excuse my staring, Mr. Potter," she apologized in slightly accented English, "But it's not everyday someone like myself gets to meet such a famous icon such as you."

Harry let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. "It's quite alright, I get more stares than I'd like."

The woman laughed, her laugh was delicate, as if coming from a refined lady, but also held a hint of steel, as if to say Don't mess with me.

"Ah, do forgive me for not introducing myself, Mr. Potter, I am Akizuki Nakuru, or Nakuru Akizuki as it would be in English, a delegate from the Japanese Ministry of Magic." She held her hand out to Harry, who took it cautiously. "As for why I am here, well, you could say I'm here simply as a representative for our Minister of Magic, who is unavailable at this time. He wishes to meet with you."

Harry stilled. This could very well be a ploy, set up by Voldemort to capture him. By accepting her offer, he could be walking straight into a trap. But a little voice in his head whispered, You can trust them, everything will be fine.

How do you know that? Harry shot back. Last time, Voldemort set me up in a trap just as simple, and I fell for it! I got Sirius killed!

But this time, it's just you, right? No one else will get hurt.

Which makes it better?

... Not really.

"Debating with yourself, Mr. Potter?"

Nakuru's voice entered his thoughts and he was pulled out of his mind and back into the real world. He was still in that well furnished room, in front of a rather amused Japanese delegate.

"Uh... sorry about that, Miss Akizuki, I was just..."

"Weighing your options? Checking to see whether or not this was a real offer or just some clever trap to get you caught?"

Harry nodded.

The asian woman giggled, a very odd sight to see. "Well, I suppose I should have known that with the events that have occurred before, you would be cautious. I assure you that he simply wishes to meet with you and perhaps help you with some... other matters."

Harry was unsure. "What other matters?"

Nakuru shrugged. "Even I don't know. Our Minister is one sneaky little guy."

Harry contemplated silently. Nakuru instantly noticed his reluctance and stood up, stating, "I am sure that the Minister will completely understand if you do not wish to meet with him, however, I can also assure that he does not have anything to do with Voldemort." She sighed and continued. "If you want to come with me, meet me back here tomorrow around noon. That's when I have to leave. Good day to you, Mr. Potter." And with that, Nakuru left the room, leaving a very confused Harry to weigh his choices.

Unbeknownst to Harry, Nakuru, more commonly known as Ruby Moon, stood right by the still open door with a dangerous grin on her face.

"Step one: completed," she whispered, her eyes flashing red once, before she faded from sight.

In a mansion, many, many miles away, a blue haired magician watched with a slight smile on his face. It looks like he will be coming soon. The one and only Eriol Hiiragizawa turned around to face a creature that looked like a cross between a beautiful woman and a butterfly.

"You did well, Ruby Moon," his voice soft and dangerous, yet it was also lined with a bit of amusement.

"Thanks, Eriol-sama!" Ruby Moon said, instantly losing her dangerous aura and hugging her master. "But what now?"

"Now? Why, we wait."

To be continued...