Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket or Harry Potter. Those rights belong to Natsuki Takaya and J.K. Rowling respectively. The original idea for this plot, however, belongs to myself, though there are plenty of fics and fic writers from which I've drawn inspiration from (all of which I would never be able to recite off the top of my head, so I won't.).

Summary: In another life, he is reborn as the spitting image of his father with his mother's eyes. Harry Potter or Hinata Honda, along with his younger sister, Tohru, have no place to go when they are offered a place to call home by the mysterious Sohma family. In between teenage hormones, magical curses, and family secrets. The Honda siblings are in for a wild time.

Warning(s): This story contains comical/extreme violence, mentions of abuse (emotional, mental, physical, and verbal), minimal character death (mostly mentioned), a romance between same-sex characters (slash), etc.

Becoming Spring

Prologue: Like an Old Friend

Opening his eyes to the ghostly King's Cross station instead of the familiar ceiling of his cottage, Harry Potter's lips curled into a tired smile. Any attempt to remember why or how he ended up here, slipped through his grasp like smoke. Not an uncommon occurrence when it came to him. After all, this isn't the first time he suddenly found himself in the place he once held an eye-opening conversation with his former headmaster. However, he didn't think he would end up here so soon after the last time.

"Didn't even take a full year for something to kill me again. Figures." Harry muttered, running a hand through his dark, unruly locks as he tried to regain his bearings. Mist curled about him lazily, obscuring the ground and only shifting away from him with every little move he made. Pushing himself up from his place on the ground, he rubbed an eye with the heel of his hand. Absentmindedly noticing that his vision was clear despite the noticeable absence of his glasses once again.

If that trend hasn't changed, then…

Glancing down at himself, he sighed at the sight of his naked body.

"Being dead is one thing, but do I need to be naked each time too?" shaking his head, he turned his attention down the walkway. Metal benches lined the path on one side, and the edge leading to the train tracks on the other. Up above, lining the path were lantern lights attached to the large stone pillars that separated the benches.

He began to walk, walk and kept on walking. Even when a strange pressure seemed to press down on him, seemingly trying to pin him in place, Harry continued to walk even further.

All the while, he felt as if every burden, every fear that had ever clung to him began to fall off as if he were shedding them. He felt as light as a feather and it was only then that he came to the end. Glowing green eyes, the same shade as the curse that had been such a huge fixture in his life, came to rest upon a lonely figure sitting on the last bench. One that despite having never personally seen before, Harry recognized immediately upon sight. Instead of the overwhelming fear and dread that one should feel while in the presence of this entity, all he felt was a sense of relief. Contentment really.

And wasn't that funny?

That someone who had managed to evade this entity's grasp through flukes and sheer dumb luck time and time again, would gladly walk into the embrace that had always been an arm's length away since his infancy? Would willingly go on to the next adventure?

Then again, he's always had the tendency to defy expectations.

"Death." The name fell from his lips easily and without any hesitation.

The figure sitting hunched over on the bench, lifted its hooded head as it turned to look in his direction. Beneath the cowl of its robes was nothing but darkness, a darkness that no matter how hard he gazed into it he could see nothing. Said nothing met Harry's gaze.

A clicking sound came from the figure as it rose to its full height with an unnatural grace in order to tower over the wizard by several heads. Further emphasizing just how much more the other was than him. Pale hands peeked out from the long sleeves, one grasping at the air while the other remained at its side. Like magic, a gnarled black staff appeared in its hold before a silver blade shot out from the side at the top in a crescent of light. Under the eerie green flames of the lanterns, the silver blade gleamed along the curved edge.

"Harry Potter, we meet face to face…at long last." Death loomed over Harry, a cloud of mist escaping its dark hood and splashed against the wizard's face. The coldness caused the fine hairs on Harry's whole body to stand on end. The clicking sound that accompanied those words, sent a foreboding shiver down Harry's spine though he surprisingly still felt no fear.

Wary?

Yes.

After all, this was the being who could literally end his existence if he so desires (Voldemort could attest to that personally…you know if he still existed).

Well, more than something or someone had already died could be ended anyway. He was here in limbo, after all.

Afraid?

No.

Despite everything, Harry couldn't find it in himself to fear Death.

Death waved his free hand and Harry almost jumped when he felt something appear around his shoulders and proceed to cover him. Reaching a hand to grasp it, his breath hitched as an all-too-familiar texture met his fingertips. His gaze landed on the Invisibility Cloak, which had been a large boon to him through his years surviving in the Wizarding World. A small crack in front of him drew his attention away from the cloak and onto the two items hanging in front of his face.

Suspended in mid-air in front of him were the cracked black stone from the Gaunt Family Ring – the Resurrection Stone – and the two halves of the Elder Wand, which he had snapped over his knee not even a moment after he used it to fix his Holly Wand. Before his eyes, he watched as the crack within the stone disappeared and from within the center was a glow, which it never held while he had lived. Beside it the two halves of the Elder Wand melded together; not a single sign of it ever being broken.

The pure power radiating off of the two objects, the Elder Wand, in particular, tumbled across his skin as if they were reaching out to him, caressing him.

Both spun in place before him, and Harry didn't even realize that he moved to grab both objects until he held them in his hands. A large sigh of contentment passed from his lips, and he felt himself standing just a little bit taller as he felt a strong burst of magic well up within him as the three items seemed to connect with his very soul.

However, Death didn't seem to feel the same.

"It seems that even now you've managed to make yourself unobtainable to me, Harry Potter…" the clicking ramped up, and the wizard didn't need to be a genius to see that anger was building up in the entity before him.

"The Hallows have chosen their wielder. You, Harry Potter, are now the Master of Death."Death hissed, its grip on the scythe tightened, causing his pale knuckles to become even more so.

"You have achieved what many have only dream of – the absolute control of Death – what is it that you desire, Master?" the entity fell silent, and suddenly weight much heavier than anything he felt during life crashed down on him.

For as long as Harry could remember, he has wanted nothing more than to be normal. Something that was hard to do, first as the Freak of Privet Drive, then the Boy-Who-Lived for the Wizarding World, Gryffindor Golden Boy, and Scapegoat whenever anything went wrong at Hogwarts. It was only when he had graduated and gave himself time to figure out who he was outside of those titles that he realizes one true fact: He would never be normal.

Though the revelation at first almost broke him, he eventually came to accept it. There was little that he could do and so moved on and made the best life that he could with what he had.

However, this was something entirely different.

Master of Death.

Master of Death.

What did it mean to be the Master of Death?

To be the master of an entity that has been around since the beginning of time. That is not something that he could consider lightly. Nor is it something that Harry felt should be controlled at all. After all, everything comes to an end eventually. This…this isn't something that anyone should ever wish for much less obtain.

Just imagining if someone like Voldemort – hell even Dumbledore – managing to gain such a title. The pure devastation that they could wreak upon the world was something the wizard would never want the world, any world for that matter to experience.

Of course, Harry didn't believe that he would ever do what either of the two older wizards would do. Even then, he felt uncomfortable. Yes, at the moment Harry couldn't see himself doing something nefarious…but just how long would that last when those around him would begin to die? How long would he be able to resist the temptation of using his power over death to sate his own wants and desires?

Shaking his head, Harry tightened his grip on the objects in his hand for only a brief moment. Lifting his gaze up from them to the waiting entity, he reached up and dragged the Invisibility cloak from around his shoulders. Ignoring the feeling of loss that began to settle within him. Folding it with swift motions learned from years of being his relatives' servant, he then placed the wand and stone on top of the cloth before holding it out to the waiting entity.

"Death is something that should never be controlled, and it's not something that I feel should change now."

Even though Harry couldn't see Death's face – honestly didn't even know if it had a face – he could tell that Death was shocked. This he attributed to the emotions that emanated through his bond with the items the cloaked figure slowly – almost hesitantly, reached for and took.

Once again standing there in nothing but his birthday suit, Harry's lips curled up at the corners into a smile.

"I don't want control over Death. I just want to go on to my next great adventure."

As if on cue, a piercing whistle sliced through the air.

Turning to look over his shoulder, Harry's eyes lit up with joy at the sight of the familiar fire-red engine pulling into the station from out of the darkness. Like a movie, memories of the first time he laid eyes upon this train and the last came to mind. Though there were some sobering ones in between, he couldn't help the warmth that seeped into his chest.

He didn't regret anything that had happened in his life. Even the painful times were cherished because it was something that made him the man he was now.

The squeal of the train's breaks snapped him out of his thoughts, and he watched as the door to the car in front of him opened up. Beckoning him to come aboard unlike the other times it had firmly remained shut to him.

Without another thought, he stepped on and his sight was consumed by a warm, bright light.

All was well.

.

.

.

.

.

Standing on the platform, Death watched in disbelief as the train, along with the most infuriating soul it had ever known left its sight. In its hand laid the three items, which had been nothing but a burden to him since the moment he had made them in a fit of foolishness.

It didn't know what to think. Nothing had gone as it had expected.

That being having to deal with what would no doubt be an arrogant human, who would lord over their power over Death. Of course, that was before Death found a way to escape the bonds placed on him, and make sure to remind the worm exactly where its place was it came to the entity. However, that wasn't what happened.

Instead of gloating or even making demands, the human had not only relinquished the Deathly Hallows without a second thought. He had also stated that no one should control Death.

This…he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

"I told you, brother, he is different."

Stiffening, the cloaked figure turned around to see a young woman standing on the back of the bench behind him. Clicking once again came from the chasm under the hood, tightening his hold on the items.

"Fate…" he hissed, his displeasure obvious.

A bell-like giggle was his only response as the woman looked at him with amused blue eyes from the face of one Luna Lovegood, one of the most trusted friends of the young man who had denied power unimaginable.

"The wrackspurts have been cleared from your head then, brother?" leaping down from her perch, she spun a little as she danced smoothly to his side. Her silver-blonde hair seemed to shine despite the absence of a true light source, along with the thin-strapped dress she adorned. Eyes that had once always been dazed were sharp with a sense of knowing that it made the cloaked man groan in annoyance.

"My mind has always been clear, regardless of what you believe." He snapped, though his toned softened at the end.

Instead of being offended, the girl only giggled. Twirling around, she looked in the direction that the train went with a large smile.

"I told you that he wasn't like the others…he was always different, I had seen what he could do…what he could become." Glancing up at the taller entity, her eyes fell down to the items in his grasp.

"He is truly the only one worthy of the title, Master of Death."

Clicking echoed in the train station, and from beneath the hood, two blood red eyes were seen.

"We shall see about that."

End of Prologue

Well, this story has been a long time coming honestly. Ever since I noticed the small number of crossovers between Fruits Basket and Harry Potter, I decided to go ahead and try my hand at one. That and the announcement and trailer of the anime remake for Fruits Basket has dazzled me. Just to let you know, the pairing for Harry will be slash. It was the plan since the beginning and isn't likely going to change. This story has a beginning, something of a middle, and a dream of a definite end. It's just the meat in between that I'll be the most worried about. The canon is a guideline for me, but I don't plan on sticking to it like white on rice (as this anime remake is also going to do apparently). Things will be different now due to Harry's presence and that is something that I wish to convey through the story.

Till Next Time,

Shikigami1991