I always wondered how McGonagall could be so vehemently against leaving Harry with the Dursleys and yet do nothing. I can imagine her trying to find other suitable – preferably non-magical – relatives but not succeeding because the families are down to their last members or wouldn't be able to keep him hidden. In this AU however, quite a lot remain.

… For now.

To my great regret I do not own Harry Potter or Naruto.

Japanese terms I leave in Japanese, as well as the names of the techniques. The latter because the English names always sound slightly ridiculous in my ears. Plus they're often shorter in Japanese.

Enjoy!

Minerva McGonagall was seething. Mad enough hex someone. She'd been worried when Dumbledore left the last Potter at the Dursleys, so she'd stopped by for another round of observation in the morning. What she'd seen had sent her blood boiling.

How could Dumbledore be so blind? She knew he liked to believe the best of people, but she had expected better from him. Was there really no alternative? No, she refused to accept that. Minerva understood the need for a non-magical family, but surely Lily had more blood relations than just that woman!

Lips pressed into a thin line, she marched down Diagon Alley to seek out one of her old students, ignoring the elated population celebrating Voldemort's demise. She was not in the mood for festivities. In her hand she clutched two small vials, one containing a few drops of blood, the other a couple of short black hairs.

In one of the narrow side streets she found the shop she was looking for. A small bell chimed pleasantly when she came in. Behind the counter a woman in her late twenties looked up and gasped with surprise. "Professor McGonagall! Dear me, what are you doing here?"

"Good afternoon to you too, Miss Ranonkle. I'm here for business, I'm afraid," she replied, reigning in rage with stiff politeness. "Tell me, do you still research ancestries?"

"Ancestries? Why, yes. But why do you need-?"

"I'm afraid I don't have time for lengthy explanations," Minerva interrupted with some regret. Miss Ranonkle had been a very good student and deserved better than being treated like this. Alas, so had Lily and James. "This is of the uttermost importance and has to be kept secret. Do you have a place where we can speak in private?"

Bemused, Celestine Ranonkle nodded and led her old professor to a small back office. Sitting down behind the desk she asked, "So what are you looking for?"

Minerva didn't reply until she'd made sure no one could listen in, casting a few powerful silencing charms on the door and windows just to be safe. Then she sat down too. "I'm terribly sorry for being so rude, Miss Ranonkle, but I have to demand an oath from you before I can answer that." She gave a tired sigh. "Please, I wouldn't ask this if it wasn't important."

Celestine eyed the older woman for a long time, before giving a sigh herself. "You promise it won't be harmful?"

Minerva smiled just the tiniest bit. "It's just that this ancestry must remain secret at all costs. The one in danger of being harmed is the one who this is about."

Celestine contemplated that for a short moment, before nodding. "Be my witness?"

"Naturally." Minerva raised her wand, ready to make the oath binding.

The young woman took a deep breath and placed her hand over her heart. "I, Celestine Ranonkle, vow hereby to keep everything Minerva McGonagall and I discuss behind closed doors today, secret. May Magic be my Witness, and punish me if I break my Word."

A single strand of light jumped from Minerva's wand to wrap around the younger witch's wrist. It glowed for a moment, before fading. Minerva sagged in her chair. "Thank you, Miss Ranonkle. I know I'm asking much."

Celestine shrugged, before leaning forward, interested to find out what this was all about.

Minerva straightened in her chair and cleared her throat. "In the wake of the events on All Hallows Eve, Dumbledore had taken upon himself the task to ensure young Harry Potter's safety." She ignored a surprised gasp from the younger witch. "He found some relatives on Lily Evans' side and placed him there under the protection of several powerful Blood Wards. The Wards remain in place as long as he can call the home of a relative his, or until he comes of age."

"Wow. Of course I'd wondered what happened to him," Celestine said, a bit dazed, "But Blood Wards… That's ancient magic." She shivered. "But if he got a home, why do you need my help?"

Minerva pressed her lips together, anger rearing its head once more. "Because those muggles are utterly unsuited to raise him."

"Muggles?!" Celestine yelped. "He left him with muggles?"

Minerva gave her a disapproving look.

"I'm sorry," Celestine said hastily. "I just didn't expect- So you need me to see if there's someone better suited?"

"Indeed," Minerva said. "And it needs to be done quickly. I don't trust those people not to harm him. They fear anything they do not perceive as normal."

Celestine groaned. "Great. You know I need some stuff for this, right?"

Minerva nodded and placed the vials on the desk. "I've got here a bit of hair and blood. This ought to be enough, if I remember correctly."

Celestine raised the small crystal containers to get a closer look. "Should be okay. Wait a moment, I should have everything I need. Ancestry is popular among the more curious muggleborns. It's funny how often I discover they're descendants of squibs. Explains a lot too."

Minerva offered a small, indulgent smile as her old student chattered along while she gathered the ingredients.

A beautifully carved wooden bowl was placed on the desk. It's inside was covered with a fascinating circling pattern Minerva knew symbolized all of creation. It was joined by a potion that looked like a night sky made liquid, shadows swirling like unseen creatures, obscuring the stars as they moved through. Four crimson candles, fine black dirt in a jar marked 'Godric's Hollow', a big, rolled up sheet of fresh parchment tied closed with a white ribbon, and a deep red potion in a silver inkwell.

"Right, this ritual isn't what you call difficult, but some of the components are hard to get by," Celestine said professionally. Minerva nodded, eying the bowl with curiosity. Celestine pointed at it with pride. "This is made out of ash driftwood. Ash is said to be a part of Yggdrasil, the World Tree, which connects everything in this world with its branches. Driftwood, because only one who has been cast adrift, away from his relatives, would need this ritual. It unites the Seeker and Those Who Are Sought."

She waved at the other components of the ritual. "Red candles, for the blood relation. Four, for the four points of the compass. Soil from his birth place, his roots. The Praeter Lectionem, to reveal what time and distance have hidden. Fresh parchment and Blooming Ink to create the family tree."

Minerva smiled at Celestine's composed enthusiasm. "I'd ask how you knew his birth place, but in light of recent events that would be a foolish question."

Celestine smiled. "Well, there are ways to complete the ritual without the soil, but those demand blood from the parents or get ridiculously complicated."

Then Celestine set to work, diligently and precise. She grabbed a handful of the dark earth and started to create an intricate diagram on the desk with the bowl in the middle. It was tedious work, but soon she had it completed and placed the four candles on the edges facing the four directions. Carefully she poured in the two potions, which immediately formed layers like oil and water, with the Ink sinking to the bottom of the bowl.

Last she added Harry's blood. The mix started to glow. The magic was invoked, whispering through the air in anticipation.

Then Celestine lighted the candles with her wand, starting with the East. "Great East, Rising Sun," she chanted, "You who mark the Dawn of Day, I beg you to reach to the Dawn of this Family." One of the hairs curled in the flame as she burned it. The mixture glowed a bit brighter.

"Gentle South, Embracing Haven. You who are warm as Summer's Peak, I wish for you to trace every Birth." Another hair burned.

"Grim North, Unforgiving Fortress. You who are cold as mourning, Winter's Heart, I wish for you to trace every Death."

Last she lighted the candle of the West, burning the fourth hair as her voice trembled on the edge of singing, "Mighty West, Setting Sun. You who mark the Evening, I beg you to find Those Who Still Exist In The Present."

The light was so intense now, Minerva had to shield her eyes. She smiled with pride as her old student expertly completed the ritual, magic humming a vibrant crescendo. Celestine grabbed the parchment and stabbed one end into the bowl.

"Reveal to me this child's Kin!"

With a final flash all candles were extinguished, silence falling like a striking hammer. The bowl was empty. The ribbon had turned red.

Carefully Celestine cleaned the desk, before unrolling the parchment. Both witches eagerly bowed themselves over the intricate family tree. With great care they traced thin, blood red lines of decent. The Dursleys were quickly found and disregarded. Then Celestine whooped with joy.

"Found it! Here's a living branch!" Eagerly they traced the fine lines to another enormous spider web of relations.

Minerva was a bit surprised to see the connection existed through just a single person. But this person had been the husband of the only child of the Potters. Their daughter, Harry's great-grandmother, to be exact. Normally that would have meant the end of the Potter name, but apparently this man had preferred to take his wife's name.

And this man had had siblings, whose descendants still lived today. It made their claim very strong. Better yet, there was a good chance the Blood Wards would take. She carefully wrote down the name.

Jin U-chi-ha. The scratching of her quill was very calming.

A foreign name, and a big family with several dozen living members. There was no way they wouldn't be able to find a better home for Harry. She sighed in relief. Carefully she wrote down the names. Fugaku. Haruka. Midori. Kaien- At ten she stopped. Among those there had to be at least one person who could be trusted to take decent care of an orphaned baby. Some of those already had families of their own, others seemed to be old enough to take such responsibility upon them. All were direct descendants of Jin's siblings.

For the first time in forty-eight hours she felt confident things would be alright. She smiled at her list.

Celestine was eying the family tree. "Maybe we should burn this," she said thoughtfully. "Can't have someone figure out where he is."

"I'd agree," Minerva said, "Were it not I might need it to convince the Uchiha's to take him in. I'll destroy it afterwards."

Celestine nodded and rolled it up, carefully retying the ribbon. "Here you go then, Professor."

Minerva accepted the document. "How much do I owe you?"

Celestine shook her head. "What happened to Harry Potter was terrible, but it saved us all. This is the least I could do." She smiled. "Just make sure he'll be alright."

Minerva nodded, touched by the gesture. Proud how well her student had turned out.

"Thank you, Miss Ranonkle." She turned to leave.

"Oh, Professor?" Minerva paused to give Celestine a curious look. Celestine gave her an apologetic grin. "Could you please let me know when you succeed?"

Minerva smiled tiredly. "I think I can do that."

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Minerva shivered in her cloak, careful not to trip over any roots in the dark. The Forbidden Forest wasn't a hospitable place, especially at night. She had slept a few hours, but then the need to ensure little Harry's safety had demanded she'd no longer dawdle. Which was good, for already the first bruises had marred the baby's arm. Had Lily and James been still alive they would have murdered Albus for even considering those people. He was lucky her own temper had mellowed with age.

Gingerly she shifted the slumbering bundle in her arms. The eagerness with which the Dursleys had handed him over disgusted her. Dumbledore could go sit on a mountain and freeze, she'd do what was right.

So now she was stumbling through the forest, a bag with the necessary documents over her shoulder, also containing some food and hot drinks. It saddened her there hadn't been any toys she could pack for the child. The fire had destroyed everything.

Making sure little Harry was comfortable, she raised her wand to levitate a big piece of raw meat a little higher. She should be far enough now- Ah. Gleaming white eyes emerged from the shadows, fixed on the meat. She wasn't overly fond of Thestrals, but no one could deny they were useful creatures. As good as postal owls, and capable of carrying far heavier loads.

She gave the bony creature some time to enjoy it's meal, before throwing a thick tartan cloak over its back and climbing on. With some well aimed Sticking Charms she ensured she wouldn't fall off. She was a bit too old to depend solely on muscle power. The Thestral gave her a curious look, munching on the remains of what had been enough pork to feed ten people.

"I need to find Fugaku Uchiha," she told the beast. Fugaku, first great-grandson of Jin's older brother. His claim would be the strongest. She prayed he would prove willing. Such a big family, who knew where they all lived? She didn't feel like flying the whole night.

The Thestral didn't give a sign it understood but dutifully launched itself into the air, gaining altitude with every beat of its massive wings. Minerva clutched Harry tightly to her chest, despite the Sticking Charms ensuring he wouldn't fall. She carefully avoided looking straight down and ignored the lack of control she had over her mount.

This was why she didn't like Thestrals.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

As it turned out, Fugaku Uchiha lived very, very far away. Foreign name, yes, but she hadn't expected him to live outside Europe! Seldom had Minerva been more grateful for her magic. Little Harry and she would have arrived as icicles otherwise. Luckily the Thestral didn't seem to mind the cold. Or the distance. Which was a relief all on its own. The trip would have taken days otherwise.

She smiled painfully. Young Severus would make some very scathing comments right now about Gryffindors jumping head first into the unknown. He might even be right this time.

In her arms, little Harry stirred beneath the sleeping spell she'd cast on him, reminding her once again why she was doing this. She sighed. She'd come too far to return now anyway.

Finally, when the morning sun had already crawled from behind the horizon in a flood of eye-watering brightness, she could feel a shift in the Thestral's flight. A descend. Very mild, they wouldn't be landing for some time, but the mere fact that the animal was gliding to lower altitudes was a very welcome sign. Stiff and aching, she shifted her grip on her slumbering cargo. She didn't see any land yet, but then again, she didn't see much of anything with the sun right in front of her and the haze of early morning hiding the world beneath her from view.

There was no trace of the barrier until they went through it.

Suddenly surrounded by hissing mist, Minerva let out an uncharacteristic sound of surprise. A strange energy crackled against her skin, trying to ward her out, but the Thestral flew on, unperturbed, carrying her along.

Just as abruptly as it had appeared it was gone, making the professor wonder if she'd imagined it. She'd barely slept after all. Then, all thoughts of the odd incident flew out of her head. She gasped. Beneath her, out of nowhere, stretched an unknown country. Mountains and forests covered the surface, and in the distance she could see what appeared to be a rocky plain.

What on Earth-? But she wasn't a witch for nothing. Hidden area's were quite common in the magical community. Though area's hidden from magical people were significantly more unusual. She'd never heard from something that came close to resembling the size of this place. Even dragon reserves weren't this big, and dragons needed a lot of space.

She shook it off. She'd do some research later. For now she had a man to find.

With the mountains beneath her and the morning sun shining brightly she could keep better track of how fast they were flying. Which came down to very fast, despite the time they'd be on the wing already . Unfortunately, the Thestral didn't seem inclined to descend any further, which meant there was probably still quite some distance to cover. She sighed.

Eventually, rocky mountains made way for lush forests, green broken only by lighter colored plains and reddish-brown rocks, glints of silver between the foliage betraying the presence of the many rivers criss-crossing the land. Lakes reflected the pale blue sky, tiny dark specks that were probably boats making their way over the surface. Every time they passed a city Minerva's heart sprung with hope, but the her dark-winged steed continued to fly.

She was almost dozing – the warm sunlight made her drowsy – when suddenly everything dipped forward and down, the world rising to meet them. She bit back a startled yelp, instead clinging tightly to animal and child, eyes again wide and awake, immediately noticing the village in front of them.

Finally!People were probably missing her at Hogwarts right now. And if not yet then they would soon.

But first I need to handle this. Priorities. Hogwarts could handle her absence.

Despite the early hour there was a lot of activity on the streets. Not wishing to make a grand entrance she renewed the Notice-Me-Not and Disillusionment Charms on her and her companions. She was here for business, not to startle people out of their skins. Tired as she was, she really didn't need the hassle.

Mere minutes before touchdown she remembered to cast the Translation spell she'd looked up for this occasion. A flick of her wand at one of the unsuspecting people beneath her and a tap against her head fixed any language problem she might face, the spell ensuring the dominant language of her unknowing victim would roll off her tongue as easily it would off his.

They landed on a paved path in the midst of a serene garden in front of what had to be the front door, even if the design was unlike any she has seen before. She took a moment to brace herself for the upcoming conversation, as the loss of James and Lily was still a raw wound on her heart.

Minerva dispelled the charms just as a man with black hair and even darker eyes slid a big window-like panel to the side and stepped out. There were odd lines near the corners of his mouth, giving him a sombre appearance despite his expression being neutral.

She frowned. There's something decidedly odd about the way the man first looked at her and then at the child in her arms that had to be little more than a shapeless bundle of cloth from were he was standing. His eyes even strayed to the Thestral behind her, without any of the disgust or apprehension she was used to see on people.

Just before sudden oblivion dragged her under Minerva realized what was off.

He wasn't surprised.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Fugaku looked at the elderly intruder and at the foreign creature she had arrived with. Pale, seemingly sightless eyes stared back at him with detached disinterest, not the smallest sign of unrest at it's mistress' sudden departure from the world of the conscious. Though that was just his genjutsu at work. No need to risk having a rampaging Summon on their hands. Absentmindedly he shifted the warm bundle in his arms to a more comfortable position, the infantile chakra signature inside like a downy feather drifting on a barely-there wind, still deeply submerged in the land of dreams.

A child. The woman had been carrying a child. Now that was a puzzle.

"ANBU-san," he called to the shadow behind him, "Would you mind informing the Hokage that the situation seems to be contained?"

The ANBU that had barged in through his window in the wake of a quietly frantic message that something uninvited had passed the village's perimeters, nodded politely.

"Seems your illusions did the trick, Uchiha-san," observed one of the Interception Division members, the ones who had delivered said message. "Got to be the weirdest invasion ever. Weird Summon too. Definitely not what I expected when the Detection Division started yelling."

Not what any of them had been expecting, especially when their uninvited guest had headed straight for Clan grounds. He'd been ready to slash the intruder into tiny bits when he received the news. Everyone was still on edge, even though the Third War had been over for almost three months now. When it came to his Clan he wasn't taking any chances.

Time to dig out some answers.

It was quite fortunate so many Uchiha worked for the Police Force. So much easier to arrest someone.

Soon they had the lady all tied up and ready for questioning. The Interception Division members had returned to their posts, leaving the case the Police Force's responsibility. Fugaku observed the woman, waiting for her to recover from his illusion. For now her lack of weaponry spoke in her favor, though they had found an odd polished stick on her person. That had been slightly alarming. Naturally he had prepared for unknown jutsu and had two of his clansmen standing by. Uchiha were the best for these kind of situations, and Yashiro and Haruka were some of his most levelheaded officers. The child had been left in his cousin Suzume's capable hands. For now they would assume their invader hadn't turned the baby into a trap. A revolting possibility, but a real one nonetheless.

After a few minutes the woman stirred. Blinked groggily, giving the room a confused once-over. Shook her head and tried to move.

Fugaku raised a mental brow. Another anomaly. A shinobi would have immediately noticed the restrains.

"What-? What's going on?" She frantically looked around and finally noticed him. "Who are you?"

Slow responses, little alertness and clearly no idea what happened. Her behavior was almost civilian.

Fugaku paused and considered that thought. She had a Summon but no recognizable weapons. Barely any muscles yet a strong chakra signature, the feel of it completely foreign. Very little situational awareness. Unless she had some unusual techniques she couldn't be a shinobi or she wouldn't be this old. Civilian with a Kekkei Genkai?

"That's what I'd like to know," Fugaku answered.

She drew herself up as well as she could, given she was tied to a chair. Gathered stern dignity around her like a cloak and said, "I came here with a child. Where is he?"

"The child is being cared for. Who are you and why are you here?"

Something like relief flickered over her face and she calmed noticeably. "I am Professor McGonagall from Hogwarts, Scotland. I came here to find his family. His parents were murdered and there is no one suitable where I come from."

He raised his brow for real this time. "You have a name?"

She nodded, stiffly regal despite the exhaustion that visibly dragged at her alertness. A small part of him wondered exactly how far away this Hogwarts was. "I'm looking for the Uchiha's. Fugaku Uchiha in particular. I understood he could be found here."

Inwardly Fugaku frowned at the odd ordering of names. Self before Clan. Either foreign customs or a very odd insult. For a moment he pondered the wisdom of revealing himself but then reminded himself why she was here. One of his Clan. If she spoke the truth, that is.

"I am Uchiha Fugaku. Do you have proof?"

She nodded, hope and relief almost chasing the wariness off her face. Expressive. If she was an actor she was a damn good one. "In my luggage should be a roll of parchment. I had someone... do some research to get the names."

Not a lie but not the truth either. No matter, he would find out.

Still looking at the professor he called, "Haruka-san."

"On it." Professional as always. Fugaku had to wait only a few moments before the other Uchiha returned with the item. Haruka handed it over without a word and resumed his position just out of their invader's sight. Fugaku put on a pair of gloves before he unrolled it. No need to take any risks.

Parchment. Real parchment. The anomalies were piling up. Maybe it was something traditional?

Then he saw the spiderweb of thin red lines, connecting what could very well be names written in a foreign language. He'd seen similar symbols once in the Decoding Division's library, when he was younger and recovering from a rather painful leg wound and bored out of his wits. If he remembered correctly he'd copied a slew of dictionaries and phonetic alphabet translations with his Sharingan and had worked though some decoding exercises before taking a crack at the most recent brain-breaker. A good mental exercise when a physical one hadn't been allowed.

It took some digging – those memories were not recent and not that much used either – but then everything resurfaced with the clear, razor sharp quality of Sharingan-made memories. Frowning slightly, he compared mental with visual images, sounded the words out in his head, and discarded all dictionaries. Names. And the simple symbols carried no meaning beyond sound.

Going more slowly, he repeated the words letter for letter in his head. Many names were as foreign as the language they were written in, but then he got to the place were recognition reared its head after being prodded a bit. Huh. Seemed to be correct. The lady had good informants.

He made a mental note to deal with that problem later.

"What's the child's name?"

"Harry Potter."

He made a sound when he finally found the little tyke near the bottom of the page. Retraced red lines once more.

Well, it wasn't perfect, but he'd be damned if he risked abandoning one of his Clan to foreign hands just because he couldn't be sure he had a fabrication on his hands. At least the child was too young to be a spy. He'd have him checked for any potentially hostile jutsu later.

"I see. If returning him to us was all you came here to do, consider your task fulfilled." Dark eyes blazed in warning, and he saw her blanch just the tiniest bit.

She shifted, evidently hesitating, before straightening her spine and looking him straight in the eye. Huh, the lady had guts. Not many would face such a clear threat head on. "There is more," she declared. "As you agree to take him into your home it is only fair to warn you. Harry's parents had a special... ability, so to say, and there has been evidence Harry has it too."

Fugaku raised a brow. Parents. Plural. But only the father was related to the Uchiha, if the evidence could be believed. Not the Sharingan then. Another Kekkei Genkai?

McGonagall drew a fortifying breath. "The Potters are an old magical family. From what Albus told me, Harry has performed his first accidental magic already. Albus Dumbledore is- was a friend of the family. He visited them once or twice in the final year." The last words sounded as if she was biting back tears.

For a moment Fugaku didn't move, unwilling to believe her claim. Magic. Impossible. He studied her face, taking in the grim tension of her mouth and the earnest light in her eyes, silently demanding he would believe her. Fugaku wanted to refuse, but then again, civilian. Some Kekkei Genkai abilities might be considered magical by them.

"And what does this 'magic' entail?" Fugaku asked, very carefully watching for that spark of triumph that was so hard to suppress when one was falling for your deceit.

Nothing, only genuine relief. Genuine, or a very good act.

"I can show you," she answered, "I have the same ability. If you could untie me?"

Fugaku's eyes narrowed. "Alright," he said slowly, bumping his foot against the table seemingly by accident, signaling to his men to be ready for anything. The silence outside shifted to something sharper.

"And I need my wand," McGonagall said, appearing completely oblivious to the by-play as he released the ropes with a small flick of his kunai.

Wand? Ah. So they'd been right, the odd polished stick was used for a jutsu. Silently he handed the item over, barely able to keep his surprise in check when he felt her foreign chakra respond to the wand's presence.

Then she gestured with the piece of wood and the table turned into a pig. Complete with matching sounds and smell.

What the-?

Fugaku stared for a long moment, composure rattled and suddenly very, very wary. He knew illusions. This wasn't one. And if she could do the same with people...

Then she gestured again and the table returned as if nothing had happened.

"A transformative ability?" Fugaku inquired calmly, pretending he wasn't one wrong twitch away from drawing a kunai and skewering her.

A tight smile was his answer, not viciously triumphant like one having successfully lured another into a trap, but surprised and honestly pleased with his reaction. "Not exactly," McGonagall corrected. "Transfiguration is only a small part of magic. Other fields include Charms, Potions, and a wide variety of offensive and defensive curses and hexes, commonly referred to as Defense against the Dark Arts."

Fugaku eyed her, carefully weighing threat against information. "Explain."

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Several hours, two guard shifts, and a burned (but Sharingan-memorized) family tree later Fugaku had a very late lunch brought in, earning him a grateful look from their magical visitor. While Fugaku consumed his noodles, his mind was racing with possibilities. He had thoroughly interrogated McGonagall – self proclaimed witch and teacher at Hogwarts, which was apparently a school for those with her ability – and had demanded several more demonstrations, each exceeding his expectations. Apparently magic was less like a Kekkei Genkai and more like the ability to use chakra in general. If little Harry truly possessed the same talent then Fugaku might have a potential triumph card comparable to the Third Hokage on his hands. Even more so if the child would also turn out to be true to the Uchiha bloodline.

And the old lady was willing to just hand him over. Inwardly he was shaking his head at her naivety. Definitely a civilian. Though supposedly it had also to do with strong Blood Wards that were tied to the child and the followers of an S-class criminal wizard being out for his blood. The Clan Head scoffed in the privacy of his own mind. He wouldn't stand for a bunch of fanatical morons threatening one of his. If they showed up here they would die, plain and simple.

Suzume had already confirmed the presence of a powerful, foreign jutsu clinging to the boy. If what McGonagall had said was true then it would invoke a protective barrier once Fugaku had accepted his cousin into his home to ward out anything magical out to cause his cousin harm. Fugaku didn't mind as long as it wouldn't interfere with other jutsu or their duty as shinobi.

So. Now Harry was here he belonged to the Uchiha. And to ensure such a promising member of his Clan would be well cared for and his talents carefully cultivated, he would become one of Fugaku's own. Itachi would like a little brother and Mikoto would love a new little one. Itachi was so independent already.

Inwardly he smiled. On the outside Fugaku was still as chillingly professional as at the beginning of this whole mess. It seemed that the witch found that disconcerting. Fugaku couldn't bring himself to care. Civilians had such delicate feelings.

"You said he'll receive an invitation once he turns eleven?"

McGonagall dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin and nodded. "Yes, his parents had him signed up directly after he was born. I'm confident he'll make a great wizard."

Taught in a school headed by an old man who has already made a critical mistake regarding his wellbeing, Fugaku thought. He would make sure the boy would be able to defend himself when the time came. 'Dangerous are those with good intentions', as the old saying went. Though he wasn't sure the old wizard's intentions were as benign as McGonagall sketched them. Fugaku was quite sure the lady's were, but look where they landed her. About to hand over the savior of her world (which sounded ridiculous and quite suspicious in his opinion; he refused to believe that an S-class wizard had been taken out because of a 'miracle') to people she didn't know, acting as if blood and first impressions alone were enough proof Harry would be well cared for. Had her encounter with the Dursleys taught her nothing?

But he wouldn't mention any of that now. She wasn't entirely wrong. He would make sure Harry would be safe, though not the way she likely expected. Best to let her leave with the belief he would mindlessly bend to their plans for Harry's future and shape the child into someone capable of derailing those plans when called for.

A knock on the door frame made his guest visibly startle. "Fugaku-sama, Mikoto-san has arrived."

"Tell her we're coming. We'll meet in meeting room three."

Fugaku caught the confused look in McGonagall's eye. "Mikoto is my wife," he told her gruffly. Once his decision had been made he hadn't wasted time asking for her to come pick up their newest family member.

The witch nodded in comprehension.

A few moments later they arrived with Suzume in tow, his twenty-year old niece still carrying his new cousin. The boy was still sleeping. Fugaku took the opportunity to take a closer look, immediately noting the scar on his forehead. So that was all that remained of a supposedly lethal curse. It wasn't that bad, as far as scars went. The shape was unusual, but its position would make it easy to hide should Harry choose to do so when he was older.

Quiet footsteps down the hall alerted him of his wife's arrival. Mikoto entered, pausing only to sweep her eyes through the room. An expression of gentle inquiry decorated her face, belying the barely noticeable tension of her shoulders.

Inwardly, Fugaku smiled. Once a shinobi, always a shinobi. He raised a brow, wordlessly asking about their son she'd been watching.

She smiled. "So what was so important you interrupted my talk with Midori?"

Ah, so he was at Midori's. Good. Under the watchful eye of another ANBU-turned-housewife, Itachi and his cousin could play as much as they wanted. Back to matters at hand then.

Fugaku gestured to McGonagall, who had taken the opportunity to sit down again and who's lack of sleep was painfully obvious to their trained eyes. "This lady came here to return one of our Clan to us." We already verified, his eyes told her.

He took the sleeping child from Suzume and handed the bundle to his wife. She took it with a look of wonder. "Meet Potter Harry, it seems he and I are third cousins."

Gently Mikoto stroked the sleeping face, careful not to show any reaction to the scar, already deducing something had happened to Harry's parents because otherwise the older woman wouldn't have brought him to the Clan. She shot Fugaku a questioning glance.

Later, his eyes promised her.

"Well, he looks like he could use a more comfortable place to sleep. I'm sure Midori would like to meet him too." Mikoto bowed. "If you'll excuse me?"

With a kiss to her husband's cheek she left, mindful to keep her movements smooth and soothing as she cradled the newest Uchiha in her arms. A look from Fugaku prompted one of the officers to accompany her back to the compound, earning himself a fondly exasperated look. Fugaku refrained from rolling his eyes. Despite her mild manners, his wife was still a strong warrior, who did not appreciate having her skills questioned, no matter how indirect. Fugaku almost smirked.

A sniff from beside him distracted him, and he almost raised his eyebrows when he saw the mournful sadness upon McGonagall's face. Hmm, seemed she was more attached to his cousin than she'd let on. Looked like Albus Dumbledore hadn't been the only friend of the family then.

He gave a mental snort. Well, that was a given. If he would ever have to choose which one to go to, he knew who he'd pick. It hadn't been Albus Dumbledore who had made the considerable effort to track down Harry's clan, and it hadn't been Albus Dumbledore who had delivered him were he belonged instead of leaving him in an ill-suited home. Today McGonagall had proven her loyalty to Harry's parents, honoring an obviously valued friendship and doing the Uchiha a great favor. Fugaku would not forget that.

Part of that debt he'd repay now, allowing her to leave with minimal fuss. Normally she would have faced imprisonment for trespassing into Konoha uninvited and without regard for regulations, especially because though little Harry had needed his Clan, it hadn't been an actual emergency. But Fugaku had seen enough of her to know that her prime concern had been getting Harry to a safe home; he would be able to bring enough arguments to the table to satisfy the Hokage.

"Well then," McGonagall said, gathering herself, "I should take my leave." A small, rueful smile. "They will have noticed my absence by now, and there is still a lot of work to do even though the war is over."

Fugaku could relate to that. Their own war had barely ended as well. "I'll show you out."

A few minutes later he was carefully watching her Summon's process through the sky, having to focus to keep her odd jutsu from distracting him. A familiar presence came to stand beside him, having arrived without a sound and just as carefully attentive to their disappearing guest.

"A very odd visit."

Fugaku nodded, acknowledging the unvoiced question. "You could say that. But her intentions were good. She didn't know where she'd landed, or even in what for place. To her, arriving like she did was merely a bit unusual, not something to warrant an attack, let alone a lethal one. And she has given her word she would keep the details of his whereabouts secret, even from her boss, at least until his eleventh birthday." He smirked. "Apparently she is quite cross with that Dumbledore."

"I see." Minato smiled at him. "Well, I guess that is one crisis averted then." A sunny grin. "Now where is your baby cousin? I do expect to be introduced of course."

Fugaku barely refrained from rolling his eyes at his superior. "As if you don't know already."

Minato hummed. "Well, it's considered polite to ask..."

Word list:

Ground fire: fire that consumes the organic material beneath the surface litter ground, such as peat fire. Mean, nasty, hidden fire, that is often untraceable above ground. That is, until it suddenly surfaces and gobbles up several hundred hectares of forest. Tricky stuff. Can burn for years.

Praeter Lectionem: lit. 'past reading'.

Jutsu: art/technique/skill; both singular and plural, as most Japanese nouns do not change form as they do in English. Most nouns (with the exception of nouns referring to people) have no plural form. For example: 'cat' and 'cats' are both the same word neko. Or, in this case, jutsu is used for both one and several techniques.

Genjutsu: lit. 'illusionary techniques'. Includes various techniques to attack the mind (as opposed to ninjutsu, which attack the body). Uchiha are generally quite adept at using them.

Kekkei Genkai: lit. 'a technique limited to inheritance by blood' or 'Bloodline Limit'. Basically abilities that are passed down genetically within specific clans. It's possible for a shinobi to have more than one of these abilities.

Japanese honorifics:

-san: this is the most common honorific, and is equivalent to Mr, Mrs, Miss, etc. It is the all-purpose honorific and can be used in any situation where politeness is required.

-sama: one level higher than –san, it is used to confer great respect.

-dono: comes from 'tono' which means 'lord'. It is even higher level than –sama and confers utmost respect.

-kun: is used at the end of boys' names to express familiarity or endearment. It is also sometimes used by men among friends, or when addressing someone younger or of lower station.

-chan: is used to express endearment, mostly towards girls. It is also used for little boys, pets, and even among lovers. It gives a sense of childish cuteness.

[blank] = often forgotten, but perhaps the most significant difference between Japanese and English. The lack of honorific means that the speaker has permission to address the person in a very intimate way. Usually, only family, spouses, or very close friends have this kind of permission. Known as yobisute, it can be gratifying when someone who has earned the intimacy starts to call one by one's name without a honorific. But when the intimacy hasn't been earned, it can also be very insulting. In this story it won't play a big role, mostly because Harry will skip a lot between the Hidden Continent and England.

Author's notes/rambling:

I've always been of the opinion that Thestrals are depressingly under appreciated. My reasoning:

Thestrals fly pretty damn fast judging from the description and the fact that Harry and co. didn't get tired enough to fall off in their trip from Hogwarts to London in book 5. And from the description Thestrals aren't the easiest rides when it comes to staying seated in mid-flight. Not to mention the student's muscles weren't used to what was demanded of them for that (had to clench tightly to avoid being ripped off by the slipstream) and hadn't started seriously cramping yet (they recovered fast from the flight), so the ride was something between the 5 to 20 (30 at absolute most) minutes. Add to that the fact that the Hogwarts Express needs about 7 hours (11 o'clock in the morning till what I estimate to be 6 o'clock in the evening) to travel the same distance in what I'm assuming a straight line at, say 125 km per hour (max speed for passenger trains pulled by the Russian B-series steam locomotive around 1910), without stops. That's about 875 km, give or take, covered in more or less 15 minutes. That is circa 3500 km per hour ( and magic is definitely being the excuse for that particular impossibility).

Lets say for convenience sake that the Hidden Continent (aka, the Naruto world) is very closely located to Japan, with Japan being an island just out of the coast (ignore the geographical impossibilities, okay?). Would explain the similarities between the cultures. From Tokyo to London is about 9577 km. Now, assuming Thestrals fly slower over large distances, say 1750 km per hour (based on difference between jogging and sprinting speed of humans), that takes about five and a half hours (both the Hidden Continent and Hogwarts are a bit further, so say the McGonagall's trip takes six to six and a half hours).

Which is less than half of the time it takes by plane (roughly 11,5 to 17 hours depending on where you're going; direct flight).

Is that awesome or is that awesome?

I know there is no mention of Thestrals having the same skills as postal owls for finding someone, but as there are more comfortable means to get from Hogwarts to the Ministry I find it very weird that six random Thestrals can find it down to the exact location of the visitor's entrance (as seen in The Order of the Phoenix). Okay, maybe one of them had been there before and lead the others. Which is still unlikely as the Ministry is doing it's damn hardest to keep them away from the muggles, so landing one in front of the visitor's entrance probably wouldn't go over well. Then again, no one claimed wizards were rational.

Yes, Fugaku and Harry are third cousins. I decided that when comparing the average lifespan of shinobi and wizards, and the years between generations. James and Lily might have been young (close to shinobi standards, with parenthood occurring somewhere between twenty and thirty), but Charles and Dorea Potter were supposed to be quite old for children (around forty?). With the high turnover rate of shinobi, I think it is not unlikely that you get four wizard generations for every five shinobi generations.

And to give credit where credit is due: the ritual was inspired by The Goblet of Fire.

Hope you enjoyed and please leave a review, I enjoy reading them very much.