So I recently got back into Kaleido Star and went to check the HP crossover section because they have everything there and it caught myself gasping because 'ol and behold they didn't have a Kaleido Star and HP crossover. I was shocked and thought to myself "I must create it!" so here I am a few days after because of this plot bunny had started to breed.
Though it's not as bad as the Fenne!Worth bunny that makes me want to draw it. Everywhere.
Warning: The Kaleido Star part isn't going to come in this fanfiction for at least 4 chapters.
Kaleido Star was created by Junichi Sato and written by Reiko Yoshida while HP belongs to J.K. Rowling.
If you haven't watched Kaleido Star yet you're missing out on a lot.
Chapter 1:
Not many people in the Wizarding World knew about Harry's dream. Actually that would have to be rephrased; no one in the Wizarding World knew about Harry's dream. To be fair it wasn't like Harry advertised his childhood dream and he hadn't practiced for it for quite a while as well.
Sometimes when Harry closed his eyes he could faintly see the people and lights everywhere, on the stage there were people in all colourful clothing that even though were different were also all the same.
They all had the same style, timing and sense of closeness even if they were meant to be enemies. It had called to Harry, that closeness, the part where they were all just a little bit in a bigger picture.
None of them could be truly different from each other and they were all trying their best to give everyone a show; that is what he could remember.
That is why for at least 3 years straight he tried so hard to be like them, so one day he could be them.
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It was dusty, which was odd considering the House elves in Hogwarts, in the unused classroom where Ron and Hermione had dragged Harry after a few weeks where Harry had been just fine thank you very much with everything happening so far and had even attended classes!
'Harry! Please talk to us, I think you- it wasn't your fault! It wasn't your fault he died, Harry,' said Hermione firmly, her hand was contracting and retracting by her side like she wanted to place it somewhere but couldn't figure out where she should put it.
Ron placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed a bit.
'She's right, mate. It wasn't your fault that Sirius died, there was nothing you could have done to stop it and there's no way you could go into the Veil. You'd have to be an idiot to get that close to the Ve-ouch! Hermione why did you do that for?' said Ron, his hand now off her shoulder and rubbing the side where Hermione had elbowed him.
'Harry, please just talk to us,' pleaded Hermione.
Sirius had been sucked into the Veil of Death in the Department of Mysteries.
No matter what they said it was still his fault. If he didn't lead them here, if he hadn't been here in the first place, if only he could had saved Sirius then he wouldn't be missing.
The shock of losing a loved one had not set yet, it was often hard to realise that, yes, your loved one wasn't going to be around anymore. They weren't going to be telling jokes to everyone, they weren't going to comfort you when you were scared and they weren't going to make you smile anymore.
There were a lot of what ifs and they weren't when a person dies and no one truly knows what they've lost until they're lost someone important to them. Until they realise the loss and accepted that they weren't coming back anymore.
Harry had not reached this stage yet. He was still hoping that this was all a bad dream, that Sirius, his Godfather wasn't dead and it was only a new fear that he has discovered.
It wasn't to be.
'Harry please, even if you don't believe us just try to because it wasn't your fault. It was Bellatrix Lestrange's fault, she was the one to cast the spell. She knew what she was doing and did it on purpose! It is never your fault!' said Hermione, her voice getting shriller and more desperate at each word for Harry to just believe what she was saying.
'It is my fault! If I hadn't gone to the Department of Mysteries fifteen days ago Sirius would still be here! He would have had been back at his place! We could still be trying to get him his freedom that he wanted! So don't you tell me that it wasn't my fault! It was!' yelled Harry at Hermione as equally desperate for her to see that it was his fault.
He hadn't been counting the days since that horrible day, he had just been merely counting the days since he last saw Sirius and wanted to see how long it would be until he could see him again. It was a few days until the end of the school year.
'Oi! Don't yell at Hermione like that!' growled Ron stepping in front of a suddenly tearful Hermione, his body shielding most of her.
Harry was reaching his boiling point faster than he could have had ever recalled.
He hasn't realised yet that the numbness that he was feeling was starting to break apart letting all his feelings oozing out like thick smoke to choke him.
'Just go! The both of you! Go! Just leave me alone!' yelled Harry, his body tense and shaking, a desk started to crack along with an old dusty bookshelf throwing its books into the air where it hovered like snowballs ready to pelt people with.
Hard covered snowballs ready to give people paper cuts with their newly sharpened leaves of paper.
'Oi! You can't just-' said Ron before Hermione's hand stopped him by resting on his arm. The tears still in her eyes but she was blinking furiously to stop them from coming out.
'Stop it. We'll leave for now Harry but please don't shut us out. Promise me that,' said Hermione with a fire in her eyes that said exactly what would happen to Harry if he didn't agree to what she was saying.
'Yeah, yeah, alright, just-just leave. Alright?' said Harry, his whole body deflated and the hard cover books fell to the ground in a series of "thumps" like raindrops against a window.
'Sure, and Harry, why don't you think about something else than Sirius while we're gone, I'm sure it'll make you feel better. At least a bit, think about something from your childhood-' Hermione firmly ignored the low sound coming from Ron like he was in pain '- or even your dream?' said Hermione with a twitch of her lips curling upwards as she remembered her childhood dream.
'What? Like the dreams I get from Voldemort because we know-' said Harry before he was interrupted by both Hermione and Ron.
'What? No! I meant like a childhood dream of what you wanted to be when you grew up,' said an embarrassed Hermione, her cheeks turning a soft pink colour while Ron made a pained noise in his throat again but this time louder.
'Oh,' said Harry eloquently and quietly.
'Will at least try this for me?' Hermione asked once more. Her eyes desperate to see Harry's eyes to see if he was going to at least try like she was trying to perform legilimency on him.
'Yeah, I will, just leave,' said Harry and both Hermione and Ron went to leave Harry alone.
Ron exited the door first while Hermione turned just as she was about to close the door and gave Harry a pitying look that made Harry want to hit something just so it wouldn't be the receiver of that look again before shutting the door on her way out.
Harry was left in that position for a few moments just breathing.
Suddenly it was as if all the strength he had in his legs just disappeared leaving him on the ground surrounded by little chips of wood, dust and fallen books.
His vision turned blurry and Harry took off his glasses to see if there were any fingerprint stains on it and rubbed it on his shirt while his vision continued to blur and then there were was water on his cheeks and it was like something inside of him just reacted to the water as if it was a signal of what was to happen next. His shoulders shook and there was a heavy weight in his chest that he didn't notice before, before the tears happened.
He let go of everything that was in him.
There was no Harry Potter, there was no Boy-Who-Lived, there was no Freak or Boy, there was just Harry.
Just Harry and the faint dream that he had when he was younger.
If you're wondering why I replace "s" for "z" in some words is because I'm Australian. I'm going to use Australian British language to type and write. "Z" is for Americans.