Harry Saotome and the Philosopher's Stone
Prelude
"The Boy Who Was Abandoned"
Our story starts here, not in a homely home on a dull gray Tuesday morning, but on a rainy Wednesday night.
Two people stood in front of dumpster in a darkened alley. Both wore heavy coats. The only distinguishing feature was that one was tall and thin, the other, short and portly. The short one carried a tightly wrapped bundle.
"Are you sure this is for the best Petunia?" asked the short one. He looked towards the brightly lit street.
The tallish women sniffed.
"Of course it is Vernon! We don't want any more of," she made a rather disgusted sound, "that kind in the world. Now do we?"
He shook his head.
"Now hurry up and toss him in the bin. I don't want to leave little Dudley with that Finch women to long. She seemed to be glaring at her accomplice.
"Yes Dear," was the man's only remark as he put the bundle, and a letter, in the dumpster. The two quickly left the scene, as not to be found out by the police.
A few moments later the bundle began crying from the cold. It's pleas for help went unanswered for a while, save that the rain ceased. The child would have frozen to death, and the world would have lost one of its greatest heroes.
However, another pair some came along.
"Pop! I thought you said these westerners could fight!" exclaimed a dark haired youth, in full Japanese. The young boy wore a pair of sandals and a training gi.
The older, and much fatter, man, who wore glasses, nodded. "So did I son, but the only fighters in this country seem to be undisciplined punks."
"Does that mean that we'll-" His father put a hand over the boy's mouth.
"I hear something," he whispered.
The pair slowly crept to the dumpster. Both looked in and gasped.
"Pop," said the boy, as he lifted the child, "Who could this. There's nothing honorable bout this."
"I know son," said the man, "But these foreigners know nothing of honor."
"But what are we gonna do with him, Pop?" The boy asked as he fingered the child's unusual scar.
Something had caught the man's attention and he ignored his son for a moment. He picked up the letter and quickly read it. Afterwards, he put it in his Gi.
"Come on boy, it's time to head back to Japan," the man announced as he started towards the alley's end.
"What about him, Pop?" the boy asked again.
The man turned and gave his son a hard stare.
"Ranma, why would we leave your new little brother here?"
"Huh?" was his only response.
Written by Baladar. Send all comments to Tasslehoff_11@yahoo.com
Rumiko Takahashi owns Ranma½.
J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.
Prelude
"The Boy Who Was Abandoned"
Our story starts here, not in a homely home on a dull gray Tuesday morning, but on a rainy Wednesday night.
Two people stood in front of dumpster in a darkened alley. Both wore heavy coats. The only distinguishing feature was that one was tall and thin, the other, short and portly. The short one carried a tightly wrapped bundle.
"Are you sure this is for the best Petunia?" asked the short one. He looked towards the brightly lit street.
The tallish women sniffed.
"Of course it is Vernon! We don't want any more of," she made a rather disgusted sound, "that kind in the world. Now do we?"
He shook his head.
"Now hurry up and toss him in the bin. I don't want to leave little Dudley with that Finch women to long. She seemed to be glaring at her accomplice.
"Yes Dear," was the man's only remark as he put the bundle, and a letter, in the dumpster. The two quickly left the scene, as not to be found out by the police.
A few moments later the bundle began crying from the cold. It's pleas for help went unanswered for a while, save that the rain ceased. The child would have frozen to death, and the world would have lost one of its greatest heroes.
However, another pair some came along.
"Pop! I thought you said these westerners could fight!" exclaimed a dark haired youth, in full Japanese. The young boy wore a pair of sandals and a training gi.
The older, and much fatter, man, who wore glasses, nodded. "So did I son, but the only fighters in this country seem to be undisciplined punks."
"Does that mean that we'll-" His father put a hand over the boy's mouth.
"I hear something," he whispered.
The pair slowly crept to the dumpster. Both looked in and gasped.
"Pop," said the boy, as he lifted the child, "Who could this. There's nothing honorable bout this."
"I know son," said the man, "But these foreigners know nothing of honor."
"But what are we gonna do with him, Pop?" The boy asked as he fingered the child's unusual scar.
Something had caught the man's attention and he ignored his son for a moment. He picked up the letter and quickly read it. Afterwards, he put it in his Gi.
"Come on boy, it's time to head back to Japan," the man announced as he started towards the alley's end.
"What about him, Pop?" the boy asked again.
The man turned and gave his son a hard stare.
"Ranma, why would we leave your new little brother here?"
"Huh?" was his only response.
Written by Baladar. Send all comments to Tasslehoff_11@yahoo.com
Rumiko Takahashi owns Ranma½.
J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.