Harry woke up in his apartment, lying on the kitchen floor, a splitting headache forming. He rubbed the top of his head, at a clear loss as to the cause of the headache, and as to why he was on his floor. The last the he remembered was eating cereal. Suddenly, Harry spotted a strange, box-like object next to him. Puzzled, he reached over and picked it up, and let his eyes widen at just how heavy it was. Harry examined it from every angle, and noticed a paper attached to the bottom. Harry ripped it off, and read it, the words making absolutely no sense in Harry's mind.

Gundams 01, 02, and 05 secure. Pilots 03 is missing, Pilot 04 withholds Gundam's whereabouts. Use this to get information. Track Pilot 03 down. Clues of new pilot yet to be discovered.

- Pilot 01

Harry blinked, wondering why they were referring to people as Pilot 01, 02, etc., rather than names… then he wondered what this strange box was doing in his room the first place. Suddenly, Harry heard voices drifting from the bedroom. Face twisted in confusion, Harry pulled himself up and, ignoring the searing pain in his head, called out tentatively, "Who's there?"

The voices quieted immediately. Harry made his way to the bedroom, reaching for his wand in his back pocket. Holding it in front of him, Harry approached the door and pushed it open.

The first thing he was the barrel of a gun pointed at his forehead.

"Scream," said a cold, mildly deep voice, "and I will kill you. Omae o korosu."

"Sorry," Harry said, unable to resist, despite the fact that he had a gun pointed at him- "I don't speak gibberish.

"Since when has Japanese been gibberish?" A cheerful voice called behind the gun-wielder. Harry turned his head slightly, and saw (much to his amusement), a boy with chestnut hair in a braid that reached his waist. Violet eyes donned his face, and he was wearing a priest's outfit. Harry turned his head again, and saw the gun-wielder. He had brown hair as well, though short, and bangs that fell neatly into his cold blue-grew eyes. No emotion showed on his face.

"I can kill you too." Harry pointed his wand at the boy. Much to his surprise, however, the boy chuckled.

"I doubt a stick could kill me."

"Oh, believe me," Harry allowed himself a grin, much to the surprise of the other occupants in the room, "this is much more than a stick. Much, much more."

Hermione sat in the midst of a circus, next to a pair of Weasleys named Ginny and Ron, both of whom where ticking her off the highest extent. She could have been working on a project the ministry had recently assigned her, but nooo. Her boyfriend just HAD to go to the circus. Something about 'the world's most dispassionate clown', and Hermione agreed he was DEFINITELY dispassionate. The clown had overlong bangs that seemed to defy gravity, was wearing ridiculous (riddikulus) clothing, and had a mask that seemed too happy for his face.

When it was finally over, Ron dragged Hermione to get a closer look at the clown. He was signing autographs, face blank. Ron's shyness overcame him, and he sent Ginny and Hermione to get the autograph, urging them. Ginny beamed when they got to him, but Hermione sulked. He signed a book of autographs from Ron and Ginny, and Hermione's Book of Autographs as well.

"Thanks," she said when he signed it. The boy merely looked at her with emerald green eyes- Like Harry's, Hermione thought.

After the signing ended, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were headed to a car Hermione had bought (her, being a muggle-born, understood a little more about cars, and had gotten her license). Suddenly, Hermione remembered something she had wanted to see after the circus, and doubled back (much to the amusement of Ginny, and confusion of Ron). She turned around the giant tent, and spotted it- a large cage, containing a particularly fierce-looking lion. Hermione approached it slowly, and stopped just in front of the cage. The lion growled softly. Hermione reached in, rubbing it behind the ear, and the lion's growl turned into a purr. The bushy-haired girl smiled. Slowly, she rubbed it's cheek, neck, and nose.

"Hey boy," she whispered. "You like that? What do they call you?"

"Get away from him!" Hermione whirled around, and saw the clown approaching her. "He doesn't like being touched by anyone but me and some of the circus peo-" The clown was cut off as he noticed the purring from the lion. "Oh." He turned round, and made to leave, but Hermione called after him.

"Wait!" The boy turned, facing her. "What's your name? I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger."

The boy looked like he was wondering whether he could trust her. "I don't have a name," he said slowly. "But if you must call me something, call me Trowa. Trowa Barton." Hermione smiled.

"What's his name?" she said, indicating to the lion.

"He doesn't have one. But I call him James-" Hermione let out an involuntary gasp- James. Harry. James Potter… Harry's father. Trowa paused, and frowned slightly. "Does the name bother you?"

"N-no," she faltered, "It's… my friend's father was called James."

"Was?"

"He died."

"Oh." Quiet. "When?"

"Nineteen years ago." Trowa nodded.

"What's his name?" Trowa said quietly.

"James."

"Your friend." Hermione smiled. Then she let out a quick giggle, at her stupidity.

"I knew that. Oh, um… Harry. Harry Potter." Trowa nodded. And suddenly…

He was gone. Hermione blinked, then turned around, and walked back to her car.