Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or Harry Potter.

AN: I'm looking for a beta for this story! Mostly someone who can concentrate on characterization and conveying emotion, on top of the general things, because I can only read my own writing so many times before I start to ignore what doesn't make sense. Anyway… rated T for swearing, shounen-ai, and violence. Written from Sasuke's point of view.

My adorable Natalie:

I miss you every day that I am forced to be apart from you. It seems that no matter how much I labor, I won't be able to save up enough for our wedding, and what's worse, I feel that my education here will never end, at the pace it is heading. My teachers are such slave drivers, dolling out more work at each opportunity. My father has agreed to let me wed you, if you will have me and your father agrees, but if we never see each other, it will be pointless to have his blessing.

Oh, how my heart longs for you, Natalie. I wish only to return with you to the English countryside before your birthday.

Your would-be spouse,

Simon.

I sighed heavily, and crumpled the flowery-scented, pink sheet of paper into a ball. I tossed it carelessly, and it bounced off the wall and fell right back into my lap. Did Naruto have to send such embarrassing messages? Sure, when he used stuff like that, it was really easy to decipher the general meaning—

Sasuke:

I'm coming soon. I've got an ANBU job. It involves a school, I don't know the duration. We'll have to partner up. LOTS OF MONEY. Expenses fully paid. If you want to do it and aren't busy, then we'll be heading to England. I'll see you by your birthday.

Naruto.

— (instead of if he used, perhaps, mixed-in letters), but really… And what's worse, I was the one who had to be the girl! It was just insulting to my Uchiha pride!

With another long, lung-clearing sigh, I pulled myself to my feet, leaving the crumpled letter on the small kitchen table, and set about the kitchen to make coffee. My birthday was only a day away – I wondered how I hadn't known Naruto was staying so close – so I would need to clean and pack by then. As I waited for the coffee-maker to do its thing, I stared blearily at the speckled granite counter-top. It's been a long time since I saw Naruto, I thought. I wonder if he looks any different.

I nearly drifted off, supporting my body with both hands against the counter, elbows locked. As the coffee machine suddenly gargled hotly right next to my ear, I jumped slightly, and my knee came up, hand already reaching for the kunai strapped to my left shin, under my pajama pants. I shook my head – hyper awareness and high-strung nerves didn't fade with time, I supposed. Heck, I was nearly seventeen; it had been four whole years since the battle in which the shinobi world had fallen apart. Normally, my career as a shinobi would be nearing the end of its prime by this age. Maybe I was doomed to be jumpy and expecting of assassination right up until I died, reduced to a lame old man with a bad case of paranoia. What a pathetic end to the great Uchiha clan that would be, I mused.

As the coffee pot continued its rather disruptive brewing, I wandered into the bedroom of my tiny three-room apartment, looking for the broom. If I remembered correctly, I left it in here when… Ah. Right there. Just as I left it – fuuma shuriken duct taped to the handle and all. Grumbling about useless ideas, I grabbed a kunai off the top of his dresser and began cutting at the tape, trying just to get it into a state where I could slide the shuriken off. The razor-sharp edge of the kunai quickly cut the tape away, and I folded the shuriken, tossing it carelessly onto my rumpled bedspread. I set about sweeping the scattered makibishi (and the dust-bunnies) out of my hallway and into one pile in the corner of the living room, next to the couch, so I could pick them up later. I plucked the fluffy balls of dust off of the end of the broom, and dropped them back onto the pile. Yes, the great Uchiha Sasuke's house was a damn mess, as the further scattered ninja supplies – ANBU mask and katana on top of the TV, soldier pills herded into one place by a metal cookie sheet on the kitchen counter, hitae-ate hanging from the light fixture next to the door – could attest very clearly to. I had no intention of cleaning it all up just because Naruto was coming over, but since I was going on a mission for an unknown length of time (and from my experience, whenever it's unknown, it's gonna be long), it would be good to pack all of my stuff.

Ahh… It would be good to be back in ANBU armor after nearly a whole year idle. Maybe it's just nostalgia, or maybe I'm just crazy, but I missed more than anything the early years of my shinobi life that I had spent running through forests and fighting enemy shinobi. I didn't much miss Konoha – probably because it hadn't meant anything really important to me – and neither was I hung up over the scattering of my ex-classmates, but I had made an effort to keep in touch with Naruto.

Uzumaki Naruto. The only person I had ever really considered a friend or a partner or a person worth hanging out with. The only friend whom I had once tried to kill, and whom I had been trying to make it up to ever since. The only person who didn't care if I made it up, the only person who had long-since forgiven me for that mistake. It made my stomach flip, that somebody cared for me in the sort of tough-love way that Naruto did, in spite of the things I had tried to pull – running away from Konoha, I knew, had been the worst thing I had ever gotten myself into. It was only dumb luck that I realized the mistake, and came back before I couldn't.

As I cleaned randomly, putting things that I thought I might need in a pile on the couch, I also made a list of things I needed to do before we left: pack, buy a new jar to put the soldier pills in, give all the perishables in my house to my needy old-woman neighbor, stop the mail, electricity, phone-stuff, and running water (since I wasn't in the mood to move all of my crap, I had to at least keep paying the rent), and quit my part-time job at the convenience store across the street. Oh, hell. This mission better be worth a bundle, I thought miserably. That Mexican bastard had been so reluctant to let me work there.

I had just tacked the list onto the fridge and poured myself a cup of coffee, when I realized what else I needed to add: buy a duffel bag. There's a limit to how many scrolls you can seal into other scrolls, after all. And I didn't fancy trying to explain to some civilian why I was carrying around a bag of rolled-up paper. Things like weapons, of course, would be sealed up, but clothes you kind of need to keep out, in order to be inconspicuous. I knew where England was, and it was quite a ways from California (don't ask me how I ended up in LA – it just happened), so no matter how I looked at it we'd be taking a plane. They don't like weapons on the plane. Just another reason that shinobi aren't meant to fly. You think they would notice if I replaced the cord of my headphones with steel wire and slid a senbon up a hollow popsicle stick? Hey, a lot of stuff can happen between baggage drop-off and baggage claim!

With a dramatic sigh, I quickly swallowed the remainder of the scorching coffee – my throat is too tough after years of goukakkyu no jutsu to be burnt by just some hot liquid – and snatched the list off the fridge, adding duffel bag to the list. I grabbed my keys off the coat rack next to the door, and locked it quickly on my way out. I paused outside, listening for the telltale signs of my neighbor – yeah, she was home. Cool, no need to chase her down when I got back. I headed downstairs at as quick a walk I could manage without the front desk guy getting mad because I was running in the lobby, and jogged across the street to the convenience store. Might as well not procrastinate my resignation… but I'd take advantage of my meager employee discount first.

-

Alright. So resigning from that job was distinctly different from all the times I've been fired. The manager was mad, either way, but this time it was more of a… glad mad, instead of the sorry mad I usually get. Well, that's interesting. The guy started swearing at me in Spanish before I even finished talking. I hope he forgets my face before I get back from this mission, or I'm gonna have to use henge to go shopping from now on.

I dropped the duffel bag next to the wall on my way into the kitchen, and set the bottle on the table. I poured myself another glass of coffee, and zapped it in the microwave for a couple seconds, to get it back to that near-boiling temperature that was the only thing my throat wasn't numb to. I took a position halfway between the kitchen and the living room, and just stared around, trying to figure out what else I would need. ANBU stuff, weapons, clothes… Not food, there was no way I'd pack food… Oh right, I might want to dig out that scroll I stole a while back from Orochimaru, on techniques combined with summonings. I still hadn't opened it, but on a mission like this, it seemed like I would either have lots of spare time, or I'd need to learn a few new things.

So all that stuff went in the bag. My weapons and ANBU gear I put into scrolls, and tucked those into the corner of the bag. Hopefully they wouldn't come across as strange enough to look twice at at the airport. I jammed my spare clothes kinda haphazardly into the duffel bag, and then threw it next to the door – I was ready to leave as soon as Naruto knocked on that door tomorrow morning. I brushed my teeth, took a shower, and jumped into bed, to lie awake listening to the teenagers upstairs bang their bed against the wall for a couple hours before I could fall asleep. Actually, I really couldn't wait to get away from my apartment.

-

I woke up the next morning with a violent start. Something had just disturbed me quite abruptly from my well-earned sleep, as the kunai in my hand attested to. I actually couldn't remember where that had come from – I didn't keep sharp things in bed, as a rule. I glanced around quickly, but didn't see anything out of place. Must have just been a bad dream, I thought, climbing out of bed. I glanced at my watch – seven fifty? Naruto could be here at any second!

This was a bad way to start a day, no matter how I looked at it. I scrambled out of bed and ran into the kitchen, peeling the gross used coffee filter out of the coffee machine and tossing it into the garbage. I pulled out a new one, and dumped out the pot, rinsing it quickly under the faucet. As soon as the coffee was doing its hissy-gargling thing, I began digging through the cupboard for something to eat – oh, that's right, I gave most everything to Ms. Old-Lady-Next-Door. I came up with cup ramen (chicken flavor; wow, I almost miss Ichiraku's), and decided that that was as good as it was gonna get. So then the microwave joined the steadily-growing clamor in my kitchen, the dull hum mostly tuned out after the first two seconds. And of course, then the doorbell rang, just as I had my comb thoroughly caught in my hair and my shirt off.

I stared out through the little hidey-hole – no need to embarrass myself in front of the front-desk guy or give the laundry girl extra fuel for her crush – but didn't see anyone. Oh, great – so it was some stranger playing funny, Naruto playing funny, or my short little neighbor lady. I could hear her cooing from under the door; "Sauce-kay, I brought over a thank-you present that I made with the things you gave me!" Deciding to throw modesty to the wind, I undid the deadbolt and opened the door.

There she stood, with her paper-plate of sugar cookies covered in what looked distinctly like a hairnet. I could barely suppress a shudder at the image that that brought about. She fluttered her shiny, pink eyelids at me in a way that could have been taken for coy on anyone but my old neighbor lady, and offered the plate of cookies. "Do have a good time on your trip, all right?" she said delightedly. I was still stuck on naming the particular shade of green that she was wearing, so I just nodded. She turned back to her own room, waving over her shoulder, and I waved back dazedly, and shut the door.

Ah. Neighbor-lady lime, I thought, fully satisfied. The cookies I set on the table and removed the hairnet from, crumpling it up gingerly and removing it to the trash can. I considered pouring some scorching coffee overtop to sterilize and melt the thing, but didn't, because that would be a waste of coffee, and it wasn't hot yet – unlike the water for my instant ramen.

As I ate my considerably lame breakfast, I stared at the cookies, my watch, and the lights on the coffee pot in alternation. Santa-shaped sugar cookie… eight sixteen… seventy percent done. Star-shaped sugar cookie… eight sixteen and thirty seconds… seventy-two percent done. This was going nowhere fast – I hoped Naruto would show up soon.

Your wish is my command, they might say – I had no sooner poured myself a cup of newly-brewed coffee than I heard another knock at the door. I got up hurriedly, not bothering to pick my chair up as I kicked it over accidentally, and peeked through the tiny glass bubble. Uhh… somebody's nose hair was staring right back at me. Well, that had to be Naruto; nobody else in this apartment complex would do something so socially unacceptable as that to somebody who had a reputation like mine – as a dangerous, emotionally-unstable weirdo. I'm not saying that's true, I'm just saying that that's the information I gathered when I used henge one time. But I'm not really that vain to… This is coming out wrong, I'll stop talking about that.

I pulled the door open, and indeed, it was Naruto. He was just as blonde as I remembered, and his presence was as obnoxiously loud as ever. I let myself smile just a tiny bit – "You've changed," I said quietly. "You let your hair grow out, huh, Naruto – you look even more like the Yondaime now."

He grinned. I could tell that he was glad to see me, maybe almost as glad as I was to see him. Now, that's not something that my Uchiha pride would let me reveal just all the time – so don't go telling anyone. Particularly not Naruto, because he doesn't need to know. But anyway… he grinned that really winning grin that he always does, and it was way more real than it sometimes was when he wore that same expression. "You haven't changed a damn bit," he said happily. "Your hair's a tiny bit longer, I guess, and maybe you look a leeetle bit older, but you're still the same old Sasuke." On the 'leeetle' part, he made a motion with his fingers to show me just how small the change was, and somehow I nearly laughed at that. Instead, I managed to contain it to a snort, and led him inside.

Slowly, he turned in an almost mocking half-circle, surveying my filthy apartment. "Wooow," he said, "Your place is messy. It's almost as bad as mine. I figured that all Uchiha's would be borderline OCD. But you're kind of a slob, huh?" He swung the single dining-room chair around, generally facing the couch, and sat down in it. "So I guess I might as well tell you about this thing before you get all frustrated and stuff."

I had the distinct urge to say, 'I'm already frustrated and stuff,' just to be ornery, but I didn't. Because I'm nice. So instead I sat down on the arm of the couch, and said, "Yeah. You might as well." I had just noticed – Naruto was taller than me. Oh, the indignity. I don't really care, but it looked a little funny. He must have grown slow at first, because he was definitely shorter than me when we were in the academy… which was the last time I really noticed that stuff.

"Alright-y." He flipped open his pocket, and pulled out a rather crinkled-looking piece of paper. "I got this letter about a week ago. The reason I didn't contact you earlier was because one, it took a long time to check this guy's background, and two, I couldn't think up a decent code for 'five days before your birthday.' So I just decided, screw that, I'll talk to him on his birthday. And by the way, happy birthday." He smiled, and unfolded the letter, straightening it a little. "So… the guy who wrote to me is called Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of 'Hogwarts,' which has to do with witchcraft and wizardry. You know, magic. So I checked him out, because there's no way I could take this on face value, and it's all true. Magic and stuff… well, I'd have to meet someone who uses magic to tell, but I think it's based out of chakra, but on a physically different level." He pushed the letter towards me, and I leaned out to grab it. Quickly, I scanned it, and then read it over again, this time thoroughly.

To whom it may concern,

My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. I am headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in England. I have heard, through my considerably impressive information network, that you and your associates take on jobs that couldn't be accomplished using normal methods, providing the one who supplies the job is prepared to give out a large sum of money at the drop of a wand. I believe that the task I need done fits nicely into those parameters, and I am prepared to offer you an amount which I don't feel comfortable stating in this letter, and extraneous expenses will be completely encompassed, providing that they pertain to the task at hand. The job I need done is this: my school, Hogwarts, is being targeted by a singularly dangerous individual and the accompanying mess of evil that follows him. As I have many students attending classes here for the better part of the year, and he may target me and one other individual of the student body for reasons that I will disclose when/if we meet, I worry that the rest of the students will come to harm. So my request is this: to protect the students totally and completely from harm within the school, until the threat is terminated or I no longer require your protection.

If you accept, I must make a request, firstly that your protection of the student body be undercover. The second individual whom this threat may target does not take kindly to being protected, and it would cause problems if he, say, left the premises during the school year. Secondly, if it is not magic that you and your associates use, I wish that the use of those unknown skills be known in the full width and breadth to my staff members, such that if a situation was to arise, they would be able to utilize your abilities within their planning. Thirdly, I wish that the smallest number of guards required to complete this task be assigned, partly for secrecy and partly because while I may have money to spare on things like this, I do not have a never-ending supply of money.

I do believe I've run out of things I can say in this letter, so if you accept, please meet me in London at the attached address on the first of August.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

I stared in disbelief at the rather lengthy letter. The first thing that I had noticed about it, at the end, was troubling me slightly; "It doesn't say anything about eliminating this threat," I pointed out to Naruto. The blonde nodded.

"I think that either he's under the assumption that he won't be able to pay for that much, or he already has a standing plan for that which he doesn't intend to work us into too extensively. Maybe both." He nodded towards the letter. "But what do you think? You wanna? Be a nice, long vacation for us. I haven't seen you in a while, so I want to at least get really sick of you by the time we go our separate ways that I won't be so upset if we don't meet for a whole 'nother year." He grinned again, and I felt that I'm-not-really-smiling smile slip onto my face.

I squashed it quickly. I'm still an Uchiha, even if that doesn't really mean anything anymore. I instead said, "When do we leave, and should I put on my ANBU uniform?"

Naruto shook his head. "No," he replied, "We're going on a plane. And I already booked tickets; we're leaving in about three hours, providing we get through security and stuff on time, and don't fiddle-futz around in the airport and miss our flight. So let's go!" He stood up, and made a 'let's go' motion towards the door, trying to illustrate his point like he always does. It's already a point well made, but he doesn't care; he's Naruto.

So, I combed my hair really quick (I had only gotten half a chance earlier, before I forgot), grabbed my jacket and my duffel bag, and we left. I locked the door behind us, and then slid the key under Ms. Neighbor Lady's door, since she had agreed to watch the place for me, and then we had really left. Naruto, it appeared, had gotten someone to take his luggage to the airport already, so he didn't have to carry his stuff around or go back to it. So we just picked up a cab, heading straight for the airport.

-

One long, exhausting plane ride later, we were sitting in a New York airport and waiting two hours for our next flight. I've never flown much, but I had decided that I preferred nonstop flights. I'm not sure you can fly nonstop from LA to London, but I really wished we could have. Naruto was off giving some bagel vendor a hard time, I was sure, so I buried my nose in a novel I bought last weekend and never got the chance to read.

"He-ee-eey, Sasuke-kun!" I peeked over the top of the book – that was Sakura's voice? What was she doing there? My eyes flickered back and forth, searching for her pink head, and I couldn't find her until she said from my direct left, "I'm right here. What are you doing in New York?"

I blinked. Of course I hadn't seen her – she had dyed her hair black (it was a weak, reddish sort of black, looked like it needed to be redone), and she was wearing a flight attendant's uniform. "Flying to England," I responded, still a little confused. "Naruto picked up a mission there. You're a flight attendant?"

She smiled happily. "Yeah! My ex-boyfriend had connections; he got me the job before we broke up and couldn't make me lose it afterwards, because my employers say I'm too 'valuable.' Apparently, having really fast reflexes is good for a flight attendant." That made me think really hard for a moment. I didn't know what Naruto had been doing these five long years, but apparently at least Sakura had been able to make a decent living. Unlike me, who just skimmed by and wished for my days as a shinobi again. That thought was more than a little depressing, so I disregarded it.

Instead, I just nodded, and luckily I was saved from the potential awkwardness of that situation by Sakura being called away by one of her co-workers. She apologized, and off she went. I stared after her for a moment, before I heard Naruto's voice; "So Sakura's working here?"

"Yeah," I mumbled into my book. "As a flight attendant. Hey, what are the rest of the guys doing? You know, the… others. From Konoha and Suna."

"Well… Kiba's working as a professional dog trainer in Missouri, Hinata learned a bunch of foreign languages and is working somewhere in eastern Europe as a translator, I think Shino's in college to become an entomologist, Shikamaru and Chouji started a chain of barbecue restaurants starting in Texas – I think their parents are helping them, too. But I talked to Shikamaru the other day, and he said he wants to go to college so he can get into law. Ino and family are working in a flower shop somewhere in France, I talked to them the other day. It's really funny hearing Ino talk in French. Last I heard, most of our jounin teachers had collaborated to write a supposedly fiction book about shinobi… I don't know what the sand siblings are up to, but I saw Gaara in a Florida newspaper the other day! He won a sandcastle tournament, because he literally made a castle out of sand. Apparently, it's still standing a month later, and people have actually started using it as a casual beach home. And I heard through the grapevine that Tenten and Lee are playing at being yakuza, in Japan… And Neji, he's got a part-time job as a building inspector and the rest of the time, he helps me on what I do."

I paused. "And what do you do?" I asked casually, trying not to make it sound like I was prodding, which was what I was one-hundred percent doing. "I mean, you know that I've been pretty much a bum about this new place…"

He frowned. Apparently, whatever he was doing, he really wasn't comfortable telling me – but before he could say anything, a woman's voice came over the loud speaker saying that our flight was boarding. Immediately, we got into the little line to board, and – I realized that Naruto hadn't answered my question.

-

Another annoyingly-long flight later, through which I mostly slept, and when I looked out through the little window, I immediately noticed something: the time difference. I hadn't even thought about it until I heard the captain say, "The local time is seven-nineteen am." What, so I had spent an entire day on the plane? Well, it seemed a little like it… but I didn't feel that tired. Time zones are so hard to comprehend.

Getting our stuff from the baggage claim was very irritating, and took much longer than I would have liked. All the same, we were here, and that was half the battle fought already. I decided that I was going to take a ship on the way back.

So we wandered through the airport for a little while, before we managed to call a cab, and took that to the hotel that that Dumbledore guy had said he would meet us at. So we'd have a couple days to check the area out… wait, how many days exactly? It was the twenty-fourth here, right? Damn, I missed my entire birthday. I said as much to Naruto, who just grinned and promised to buy me something as soon as he could find a phonebook.

I wasn't hung up about getting gifts, but Naruto does know good things to give, so I wasn't going to argue. Like last year, he had mailed me a wrench, and I thought, what kind of use is this gonna be? And what do you know, the next day the water pressure gets screwed up and half the people on my floor have water spraying around in their kitchens and bathrooms. It was great. I was actually social for once; but there was no need to say that. I just unpacked some of my stuff and sharpened that fuuma shuriken that I had had taped to my broom handle the day before Naruto came (however many days ago that was supposed to be). The idea behind that had actually had something to do with sharpening, anyway.

-

It didn't take very long for the first of August to come around. Naruto and I just hung around the hotel, got a feel for the culture (though I wasn't sure that any of this would be useful, since we'd be at a school belonging to an entirely different community for the entire duration of the mission), and generally goofed off. We even spent a while sparring; only taijutsu, because most of the ninjutsu that we knew was used for destruction, destruction, and more large-scale destruction. I don't think that our neighbors found it amusing when we frequently threw each other into walls, but then, I didn't find it amusing when they turned the TV on really loud, either.

So yeah; on August first, we had both just eaten lunch when somebody knocked at the door. I opened it, and got my first look at our employer. He was an elderly man, with long white hair and a matching beard, and he was wearing purple robes printed with silver stars. His eyes were really blue, and seemed to have a mischievous look to them that I didn't appreciate one bit. "You're Albus Dumbledore, right?" I asked, standing aside to let him in.

He nodded, and stepped inside. "I am indeed," he said politely. "May I ask your names?" He glanced between Naruto and I as I sat back down on the edge of my bed.

"Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke Uchiha," Naruto said politely. "You asked for the least number of people possible to complete this mission – and here we are." He didn't say it, but I knew that in fact, we had probably prepared above what would have most likely been necessary. Two shinobi by themselves were strong, sure, but Naruto and I acting as a team was even above that. "We need to discuss the matter of payment before we get any further in this discussion."

Albus nodded, and then said, "The most I can offer you is thirty thousand galleons, which is equivalent to a little less than one-hundred and fifty thousand US dollars." He had a frown on his face, like he was worried that it wouldn't be enough; I wondered what kind of rumors Naruto had been spreading about our services. That was more than enough!

But, as ever, I was diplomatic and greedy. I put on an almost-frown, and glanced at Naruto. "I was anticipating a little more than that… What do you think, Naruto?" He was trying to frown too, and I guess that to anyone else the front would be perfect, but me, I could see the laughter just barely hidden behind his lips. He nodded in agreement, and turned away. So I get to make the decision, huh? "Well, I suppose we can accept that. Work's been slow lately, so we need whatever we can get." Now that was a blatant lie. I had no idea how well 'work' had been going. But it was the kind of lie you needed to tell to get as much as possible out of a man like this.

It seemed to work perfectly. He looked a little concerned, but didn't offer to raise the price – I guess a hundred and fifty was really the highest he could go. Naruto had dug around and come up with a sheet of paper – the contract. Naruto's signature was already on it, and there was space for mine and Albus's. I snatched the pen and laboriously signed my name in the English characters that I had changed my signature to. It would have been so much easier to just scribble the familiar Japanese characters… Albus signed right after me, in the sort of flourish that you'd expect from someone who had to write their own name a lot at some point in his or her life.

Sign your life away. We were, from that moment out, under this man's thumb until he told us otherwise. Ah, now this was what I missed about shinobi life – getting paid to do all things unacceptable in today's society. It's great. Now, however, the man stood up, and said, "Well then. To talk about the rest of this job, I'd like to head to a place that I find much more… trustworthy. Are you ready to go?"

I looked over at Naruto, who had given up his overly-fake frown and was grinning again. "We'll get into uniform," he said, and Albus nodded. He left to wait outside, and as soon as the door was closed, Naruto and I congratulated each other silently, before hurrying about putting on our ANBU uniforms.

I love my uniform. There's something about seeing someone in a matching outfit with someone else that makes people jittery. The fact that our faces are covered doesn't much help, either. Mine and Naruto's masks are relatively plain, even though most ANBU masks are sculpted into unique animal-themed faces. Because we had been made ANBU on the leading edge of a war, we didn't have time to learn the crafting techniques to personalize the masks in the shape, so we had gone with minimal changes. Naruto had painted three red stripes on either cheek, and called himself 'Kitsune.' I had a green diamond in the middle of my mask, and called myself 'Karasu.' People tell us that the connection is vague, but to us, it makes perfect sense. And it's unique – in comparison to the usual, carved and reverse-relief details, our masks stood out. We weren't the usual ANBU, that's what it told fellow shinobi.

We decided that we would bring our katana. We were scouting new territory, so why not go fully-armed? Well, not fully armed. I thoughtfully left all of my kunai behind, so I was only packing my katana, the senbon under my ANBU vest, and the wire that was wound along with my belt around my waist. My katana I put over my shoulder, the hilt facing down to my left hip. I put my hand on the bound handle, and kicked the blade sideways in the sheath a little, feeling it slide along with gravity. I pulled it out, checking it with one glance, and then sheathed it again. I nodded to Naruto, and noticed that he had changed how he carried his katana – it was perpendicular to his torso, at hip-level. I smirked behind my mask: it was so him.

We stepped out of the room, Naruto fumbling with the card key through his gloves, and I could feel our employer's eyes on us every step of the way as he led us through London. I had subtly cast a genjutsu around us, so we wouldn't attract quite so many suspicious stares as we walked through the crowds. As we walked through the streets of London, it felt to me that we were getting into a stranger and stranger neighborhood. I couldn't even think of anything that was actually queer about the place – it was just my shinobi instincts, I supposed.

At long last, Albus stopped in front of a strange building that seemed to be crammed in between two other stores. The sign above the door said 'The Leaky Cauldron.' The old man pointed to the place, and said, "Can you see that?"

I nodded. "Is that where you're leading us?" I asked. From the way he phrased his question, I supposed there must have been some sort of genjutsu on it that most people couldn't see through. I glanced at Naruto – he had been looking at me, too. We exchanged a tiny nod, and looked back to follow Albus into the little shop.

It was a dingy pub, it seemed. I didn't spend much time in places like this, but this one had… a sort of charm to it. It was almost the sort of place where you would expect to find a shinobi-for-hire. I took a quick look around – nobody looked suspicious, I couldn't pick up any outstanding chakra signatures… though now I thought about it, all of the people here seemed to have slightly disbalanced chakra signatures. Was that part of what made them unique? Oh, how I wished I had a Hyuuga here. I beckoned to Naruto, and he leaned in towards me enough so I could slide my mask sideways and whisper to him, "You said you work with Neji sometimes. I think we need him to come and check this out." I slid the porcelain back into place, and watched for Naruto's nod of agreement.

We followed Albus through the pub – he was greeted by the guy behind the bar, whom he addressed as Tom – and out the back door, into a little back alley. I was exceedingly confused – trash and brick walls, that's all I could see. This is what he meant by a secure place to talk?

Obviously not, I realized a second later as he pulled out a long, thin piece of wood. He waved it around contemplatively, and then reached out and tapped several of the bricks on the wall in front of him. They immediately began rearranging themselves, and beneath my mask, my eyes widened – I looked over at Naruto, and his body language said that he was surprised, too. Well, then. The bricks folded themselves away to make an opening, and I could see a bustling street.

Albus turned aside so we could see the place perfectly well, and said, "Welcome to Diagon Alley."

Fuuma shuriken: basically a big, four-bladed shuriken that folds up conveniently. Naruto and Sasuke used it on the mission in the wave country.

Makibishi: trap spikes.

Hitae-ate: 'forehead protector' seemed like a stupid thing to say, so I kept the original Japanese.

Senbon: needles.

Yakuza: like a Japanese gang.

AN: Do you like the first chapter? You can tell me yes or no by clicking the grayish-purple button in the bottom left-hand corner!