Inuyasha - Harry Potter crossover! Yeah!
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I neither own Harry Potter nor Inuyasha. The fact that I have Sesshoumaru chained up in my basement does not effect the fact that I do not own him, which is sad. Fluffy is Fluffy. Sesshoumaru belongs to some mortal girl who will meet him in the future and surely woo him, just to be ironic (hopefully not Rin, just because that would be way too creepy, even if he does wait until she is older), Inuyasha belongs to Kagome AND NOT TO KIKYOU, and Harry Potter belongs the the Great Dark Lord Voldemort, who will rip out his heart and petrify it as an eternal testiment to his absolute power! Ahem, I seem to be getting carried away...
Oh, this is the first Inuyasha or HP fanfic that I have written, so beware! Oh, and I should mention that this is in Harry's fifth year. If you haven't read enough of the book to know who is teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, then beware! Actually, just read the whole thing before reading this. Come-on, I've read it twice, ok? And...well, be up to the point where Naraku has his new body, or maybe not quite that far, and you are ok. If you know who Kouga is, you are fine. Oh, and I know that my comment by Prof. McGonogall wasn't in character, and I apologize!!!!! I just couldn't resist. Please forgive me. *Starts beating self in head with tetsusaiga sheath* Bad, BAD DOBBY! BAD, BAD DOBBY!
Oh, and I know that later on I become more humerous and less serious, but please don't sue. Thank you. Please READ AND REVIEW. I LOVE REVIEWS. I apologize for not providing the web with lemony goodness, but I promise, as soon as I no longer live in my parents' home, I will treat the world to delicious lemons and limes, enough to make an NC-17 addict blush! :) For now, please be patient and enjoy.
Harry Potter is situated before Christmas in their fifth year. Inuyasha is less specific, but after Sango joined the group, but before Sango stole the Tetsusaiga (that's ok, she's forgiven). I apologize for non-seriousness, my writing style reflects my mood, so I'll probably go back and make the story more favorable later on, depending upon what reviewers want to read.
Harry Potter and the Warring States Era
1
Inuyasha let the waterfall's cool water run through his hair, wiping out the sweat, grime, and dried blood. He wanted to look good. If Kagome happened to like his hair clean, so what? And so what if he had "borrowed" her bottle of the liquid that smelled like her?
"You know, Inuyasha, I believe that you have used enough of Kagome's 'champ -ooh.'" Miroku said, pointing out that the wide stream was carrying bubbles on its surface as far as the eye could see.
"What's it to you, monk?" Inuyasha asked, shaking his hair to let the last of the beautiful-smelling liquid out. "I like it and I'll keep it, thank you very much."
Miroku shook his head at the half-youkai's stubborness, and stood up from where he had been sitting in the stream. He had bubbles on his chest where his chest had met the water, and he needed to rinse it off.
"Don't get too close, Miroku." Inuyasha warned. "If you try and cop a feel at me, you'll wind up with worse than a slap in the face, I can assure you of that. You'll wish that you had a little rosary around your neck that made you 'sit' every time Kagome felt like it. Understand?"
Miroku smirked. "Really, Inuyasha, as lovely as you are, my interests do lie in other areas. Were you female, a demon huntress, and were your name Sango, well . . . I can't say that it wouldn't be worth it then."
"Yeah, well, just stay on your own side of the waterfall. I don't want another 'incedent.'"
"I was asleep, Inuyasha, and I assure you that I was most definitely dreaming about Sango. I cannot be held accountable for my sleeping hand's actions. Besides, your backside is not nearly so soft as Sango's." Miroku looked sadly at his right hand, still with the prayer beads wrapped around it to keep the kazaana closed. The kazaana, the legacy of his family, the curse brought on by the demon Naraku.
For once being sensetive to the emotions of others, Inuyasha remained silent, finished rinsing off under the cool water, and lept onto the bank, so as not to get mud on his feet before he even dried off. Grabbing a towel, he patted himself down, and then slipped on his loincloth. Turning back to Miroku, Inuyasha grimaced. The monk had his eyes shut, and was standing there naked under the waterfall as though there were nothing in the world that mattered.
Well, perhaps it helps him to imagine that. Inuyasha supposed. I wouldn't want to live in a world without important things. I would feel like such a waste.
Inuyasha donned his pants, tied them, and donned his inner and outer kimonos respectively. The pants and the outer kimono were both woven from the hairs of the fire-rat, and granted protection against both blade and flame, though as a half-demon he didn't have as much need for it as he might have had he been a mortal.
Running his fingers through his beautiful silver hair in an attempt to get any more water droplets out, Inuyasha tested the air. He could smell that "champ-ooh" that he had taken from Kagome's bag in the air, and almost nothing else. Well, perhaps he had gone a touch overboard, but really, how was he supposed to know how much was needed? It wasn't like he could just ask her! She would never have let him use it. The bottle was just over half empty, and Inuyasha almost felt guilty. Almost, that is, because as soon as he realized that he was feeling guilty, his overly-macho-complex kicked in, and he suppressed the "weak" emotion. Of course, he didn't exactly have time to ponder, because-
"SIT!" came Kagome's voice from the woods. "Inuyasha, did you use my shampoo!!! Have you any idea as to how much it costs?!" Kagome was fuming, emerging from the woods. "Sango and I could smell it from the hot spring!!! How much did you use?!"
Pulling himself up from the ground gingerly, Inuyasha looked up at Kagome apologetically. "Sorry, I got a little . . . er . . . carried away. There's still, um, almost half left." Inuyasha said weakly, holding up the bottle and bowing his head submissively. He had no idea why he wasn't yelling right back at her, but it definitely wasn't that he was afraid of more 'sits.' Actually, though he would never admit it, there were times when he sortof . . . liked the 'sits.' Perhaps it was just that it put Kagome on a more even footing to him, but-
"Why in the name of the seven hells is he behaving?" Sango asked, stepping up behind Kagome. She had dressed, too, but she had taken longer, because her muscles still ached from the last battle. "It is so unlike him." She turned to Kagome. "Perhaps we should have Miroku excorcise him? He might be possessed."
ACTUALLY, came a booming voice that didn't even bother to use quotation marks, IT IS I, THE NARRATOR, WHO HAS CAUSED THIS MADNESS. I FIND THAT I CANNOT TOLERATE INUYASHA'S STUBBORNESS AND OVERLY-PRIDEFUL PERSONALITY, AND SINCE I AM THE ABSOLUTE AUTHORITY ON THIS FANFIC, I AM FROM NOW ON MAKING INUYASHA NOT ACT LIKE A FORSAKEN JERK. UNDERSTOOD?
Kagome and Sango nodded, and then returned to what they had been discussing.
"So," Kagome continued. "I suppose that I can forgive you this time, Inuyasha, but next time, please just ask. I would love to do your hair."
Before the dog-demon could respond, Sango gasped. "Ooo, look!" She pointed to the waterfall, where Miroku still stood, unaware of the visitors thanks to the roaring rush of the water. She and Kagome could both appreciate how the water slid down his body, strong but not too built to detract from his slimness.
Kagome and Sango caught themselves, and turned away, blushing. Meanwhile, Inuyasha had leapt to stand between Kagome and Miroku, and he kept his position despite the fact that Kagome had already turned her head.
Finally, Miroku noticed that the girls were present. Inuyasha might have expected him to try and parade and make a show of himself, as he obviously expected every female around to do for him, but instead he blushed, turning his back to the group and hastily edging away from the falls themselves, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist before he came over to get his clothes.
*******************************
"Mr. Potter, would you please be so kind as to stand up and show your potion to the class so that they can learn from your idiotic mistake?" Snape asked, grinning, his eyes shining with malice.
Harry Potter stood up, and picked up his cauldron carefully, and tilted it so that the brew did not spill, but so that everyone could see the dull, thick grey sludge that filled his cauldron. Hermione, of course, had hers a shining emerald green. Harry was relieved to see that no one but Hermione had managed to get their potion perfect, though his was one of the worst. Only one of. Neville Longbottom's cauldron had emptied itself with a puff of smoke, its legs had started moving, and it had dashed out the door halfway through the lesson. Ron Weasley's was a thin, runny blue that reminded Harry of very runny mucus.
"So, Harry, I see that you added six spider-leg hairs, instead of five!" Snape sneared. "Did I not say three equal deosil stirs with the spoon, and then four equal widdershins stirs with the spoon? And I seem to recall saying forty-six grains of sugar, not forty-seven 'for good measure!'" Snape was quite flustered. "You will clean up your cauldron, and you will not receive any marks for today."
Harry sat back down grumpily next to ron, while Hermione walked over and said "Evascendo!" and Harry's cauldron was suddenly empty.
"That is funny, Miss Granger." Snape's venomous voice came from the desk once again. "I don't seem to recall saying for Harry to rely on his mildly-competent classmate. And I do use the singular, for the Griffindor portion of the class. You may be able to follow simple instructions, Miss Granger, but do not think that it gives you the authority to do whatever you please in my class. Five points from Griffindor. Oh," He paused, smiling wickedly. "And since you feel that it is alright for other people to 'help' with eachother's clean-up . . ." Snape pointed is wand at Hermione's cauldron. "Evascendo!"
Hermione's potion vanished, and Snape grinned. "I see that you have no more results for the day than Potter. No marks today for you either."
Hermione sat down, slowly and silently. In her first or second year, she would have been on the point of tears. She was, however, used to Snape's treatment of her. She didn't exactly have a lot going for her in his book. She wasn't in Slytherin House, she was muggle-born, she was in Griffindor House, and she was close friends with Harry Potter. She might as well have not bothered in Potions, except that somehow the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, always managed to prevent Snape from failing them, so long as he believed that they had done their best despite Snape's obvious grudge. They never did wonderfully, but they still passed, which was good.
Ron was looking furiously at Snape. Snape noticed, unfortunately, and walked over slowly to the desk that he was at.
"I don't seem to recall giving you any Glaring Goop, Mister Weasley." Snape said, his voice dangerously quiet. "So I advise that you stop it, or I will be forced to start dosing you with random potions to see which is the antidote to whatever nasty thing it is that you swallowed." Ron's face paled and slackened with terror, but his ears remained pink with anger. Fortunately, Snape did not notice. "Ten points from Griffindor." He glanced at Ron's goop. "No marks for today. I suggest that you deal with your own mistakes, Weasley!"
The short remainder of the lesson was spent in silence, unless you counted Neville's cauldron limping slowly back into the classroom and over to Neville, followed by a very stern-looking Professor McGonogall. ("This . . . cauldron ran right into my transfiguration classroom and tried to attack the rats that I was turning into diamonds with my sixth years. It had best behave from now on, or Potions will find itself visited by some very large rats with diamond teeth.")
In the hallway afterwards, Harry patted Hermione on the arm. "It's alright, Hermione. He just hates you is all. It isn't your fault for trying to help."
Hermione nodded silently with a small smile playing across her lips, cheered up a bit.
"Lousy git," Ron muttered from the other side of Harry. "I'd like to turn him into something. You don't suppose that Professor McGonagoll would-"
"Oh, yes, Weasley," came a familiar drawl from behind them. "Run to McGonagoll with your problems." Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.
The three friends whirled to see Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Large, ogrish, and extremely stupid, they contrasted Malfoy. Nasty as he was, Malfoy was slim and fairly intelligent, even if it would never be put to good use.
"Of course," Malfoy continued to Crabbe and Goyle. "I don't suppose that he can run to that muggle-loving scum of a father that he's got. Though his mother's plump enough to carry the weight in the family, that's for sure."
Harry and Hermione had, just as a precaution, already taken hold of Ron's robes, but they were finding it hard to restrain him.
"Diffindo!" came a voice from behind Malfoy, and there was a loud rip sound, and Malfoy's eyes widened in shock. He placed his hands on his backside, and he, Crabbe, and Goyle rushed off towards the Slytherin dormitories, deep in the dungeons, his robes and all underlying clothing split cleanly around his bottom.
"It is a fairly nice bottom, you have to admit," Hermione muttered to herself, her eyes on the retreating annoyance. "A bit pale, but nice and-"
"Hermione!" Ron whispered loudly in shock, and Hermione nearly jumped.
"What?" Hermione gasped innocently. "He's still the scum of the Earth, but he isn't bad looking." She soon fell silent over the odd looks that Harry and Ron were giving her.
"Didn't think that mum would like it much if you got in trouble for fighting at school, Ron." Said Fred as he and his twin, George, approached. George was the one with his wand out, however.
"Yeah," said George. "Lousy little git doesn't deserve the effort, and he isn't worth the trouble that you'd get in. Especially with that Umbridge woman around here. And I use the term loosely, of course."
"Well, we should go." Said Fred merrily. "Lee Jordan . . . well, you'll find out soon enough. Let's just say that our little joke shop should be having something new available very soon."
"Oh, dear." Hermione said. She sighed. "Oh well, at least they are trying hard at something."
Silently nodding in agreement so that Ron wouldn't see, the three of them made their way to the Griffindor Common Room.
*******************************
"Jakken, if you don't choose to move faster, I shall be forced to kill you." Lord Sesshoumaru said, not letting his irritation alter his cool, calm, collected voice. His silver hair flowed gently in the breeze as he walked through the woods to stand on a cliff and observe. He found himself doing so more often of late. He had avoided the politics of other youkai. He had all but ignored the hanyou, his half-breed brother. He felt almost consumed with . . . something. It was as though he were searching for something, but couldn't find it.
"Of course, master!" came Jakken's irritatingly obnoxious voice from behind him. The toad-like imp practically waddled up to him, using the Staff of Heads as a walking stick. "I am sorry!" Sometimes Jakken was more than pathetic in his submissive manner. There were times when Sesshoumaru wondered why he kept the imp around, but he supposed that he had his uses. Even if he was foolish and obnoxious.
"Ah, Lord Sesshoumaru," came a dark and sinister voice from around him. "As I said that I might, I have come to call upon you again. This time, for information. Information concerning the human companion of the despised, one, Inuyasha."
Not letting the mention of his brother's name, or of the mortal girl phase him, Sesshoumaru did not even turn or stir, though the imbecile Jakken was turning his head this way and that, tryind desperately to find the source of the voice. The fool. If Naraku didn't want to be seen, he wouldn't be. At least it made Sesshoumaru look more calm and composed, complementing his manner.
"Ah, Naraku," Sesshoumaru said slowly. "You don't have another arm for me, do you? If you do, no thank you. The last time that I aided you, I did it because it was supposed to land me with the Tetsusaiga. I don't see any benefit in telling you about my half-brother's pet." Not that I know much about the mortal myself, he had to admit to himself.
"Fool," came Naraku's voice. "You would have had your brother's corpse had it not been for that baka ningen."
"Perhaps," Sesshoumaru said, not letting his affront make its way into his voice. That stupid human may have aided Inuyasha, and reversed the Tetsusaiga's transformation once, but surely it had been the demon in Inuyasha, not the human, that had allowed him to . . .
"Regardless," Naraku's voice came again. "It will strike quite a blow in your dear brother's heart if something happens to her. Just tell me what you know, and I will make it happen . . ."
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"Avery," came his abnormally high, sinister voice from the shadows. "I have been misinformed. You shall be punished most severely." The Dark Lord Voldemort pushed the feeling that he had had in his mind only a moment before, the feeling that somehow that Potter boy was aware of him, which was surely impossible, aside.
"My Lord, please!" Begged Avery, almost in hysterics on the floor. Some might have said that he had already paid enough for his mistakes, simply out of the terror at what might happen to him as punishment. The Dark Lord had surprised even himself with his lenience. Perhaps it was that he was so glad to have supporters again after fourteen years without his loyal Death Eaters to keep him company. Or perhaps it was that he knew that he did not have as many followers as he once had, even counting those still in Azkaban, and he could not truly afford to waste even one. And, though not perfectly reliable, Avery was a valuable resource nonetheless. And it would be one less person to smell the sweet aroma of terror rise off of in waves, if he were killed.
"Crucio!" Voldemort said, pointing his wand at the cowering Death Eater on the floor. Instantly, his body began to shake and jerk, and screams began to emit from his mouth. He writhed, twitching in agony, for less than a minute before the Dark Lord relented, but from the fear smell that entered Lord Voldemort's nostril slits, he would have wagered that it had felt like ages.
"Now," Voldemort said coldy. "Leave me. I should have killed you. And send for Lucius. Lucius and Bellatrix."
Grovelling and snivelling nearly as badly as Wormtail, Avery crawled out. "Thank you for your mercy, Dark Lord." Avery said in a hoarse whisper. Voldemort was pleased to detect that Avery truly was grateful.
It was mere moments before Lucius and Bellatrix entered. They both stood, while the Dark Lord remained in his tall chair in the shadows. Fitting, truly, that the two of them should stand in the light of the fire without fear, while the Dark Lord waited in the shadows, commanding them. Soon, he would reveal himself. But first, he would let the Ministry continue to make things harder for . . .
Was it hard even to think of his name? Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore. Nothing more than a transfiguration teacher. One who later became Headmaster. Dippet was Headmaster once, and he was also a fool.
Silently, letting them wait, Lord Voldemort let them sit in silence. It often caught people off guard. There was no real reason with these two, but it pleased him greatly to make others uncomfortable.
Bellatrix was hopelessly loyal, which was good. She was also very skilled at dueling, not incompetent like some of his followers.
Lucius was skilled, as well. Not so much as Bellatrix, but skilled enough to be a Death Eater. Skilled enough to deal with the fools who the Ministry let call themselves Aurors.
Lucious, however, could not be said to be hopelessly loyal. After the Potter boy defeated him fourteen years before, Voldemort had been unable to contact his loyal Death Eaters, and everything had fallen apart. While Lucius had claimed to have been acting under the Imperius curse, coming clean and pretending to work to aid the ministry, Bellatrix had had other goals.
She, and a group of other Death Eaters, including Bartemius, Crouch's own son, who were still free had gone to the home of two of the most despised Aurors of the Ministry. The Longbottoms. And there, they had tortured them. Tortured them until they were driven completely insane. According to Lucius, they were currently in Mundungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It served them right. Perhaps, once he had dealt with the fool Dumbledore and with the bumbling imbeciles in the Ministry, he would pay the Longbottoms a little visit himself. Perhaps he would even restore their sanity. Just for them to know true despair before he gave them pain that they had never known before, returning them to their state of insanity. It would be amusing to watch them in that form.
"Lucius," Voldemort let his tongue caress the name that belonged to one that was his. His Death Eaters were his family, and they were all his. "You say that Fudge has been pushing legislation to grant this Umbridge woman more authority, is that correct?"
"Yes, Dark Lord," said Lucius Malfoy. "She is making things exceptionally difficult for Dumbledore."
"Excellent. Now, listen to what I have to tell you . . ." So many plans, so little time. But, just as he had for fourteen years, the Dark Lord Voldemort would continue to bide his time. He truly was a serpent, and when the time was ripe, he would strike. And the venom in his fangs would be slow, but infinitely deadly.
****************************************************
The youkai Naraku sat alone on the mountaintop, letting the wind carry his long, thick hair. He grinned. So. He thought. So. Her arrow pierced Sesshoumaru's youkai armor. Another arrow from her bow reversed the transformation of the Tetsusaiga. Kikyou is dead, but it seems that she has reincarnated into this girl's body to trouble me again. I must dispose of her. That will bring Inuyasha real grief. And that would bring me true happiness.
****************************************************
Concealed in the clever guise of a disembodied, all-powerful voice, the Narrator cackled gleefully. With extra glee.
EXCELLENT, the Narrator said wickedly, once again without quotation marks. I HAVE SUCCEEDED IN AMUSING MYSELF! EXCELLENT. HMMM... PERHAPS I SHOULD ARRANGE FOR A CROSSOVER. OOO! BUT FIRST, I THINK THAT I'LL CREATE A CORPOREAL DUPLICATE OF MYSELF, NAMED "JADESPIDER" FOR THE HECK OF IT, WHO CAN SCREW AROUND WITH EVERYONE, TURN FLUFFY INTO A GIRL, AND HAVE WILD, KINKY SEX WITH A FEMALE SESSHOUMARU! NOT THE HARRY POTTER FLUFFY, BUT FLUFFY AS IN SESSHOUMARU, THAT BEING HIS NICKNAME.
**WE DON'T THINK SO!** Came another disembodied voice. Argh. The Narrator's parents. Stupid promises.
WELL, JADESPIDER CAN AT LEAST SCREW AROUND WITH EVERYONE, IF NOT IN AN NC-17, LEMONY SENSE. WHAT A PITY. BUT AFTER I NO LONGER RESIDE IN MY PARENTS' HOME, THE GEIS WILL BE LIFTED. I SHALL AWAIT MY SEVENTEENTH BIRTHDAY WITH EAGERNESS, AND THEN I SHALL FLOOD THE WORLD WITH LEMONY GOODNESS!
****************************************************
Ron, Hermione, and Harry were wondering the halls of Hogwarts late at night, accompanied by Neville because he doesn't have very good luck. They were all under the invisibility cloak, of course. The exact reason for their being out of bed isn't important, as that it has no impact on the story. Let's just say that they were up to no good and leave it at that, ok?
For some reason they happened upon Fred and George, who had been stealing supplies from Snape's office to make their joke-shop supplies. Unfortunately, they didn't see the Troublesome-trio, nor the Negligable-Neville. And thus, they ran into them, and two of the potions that they had dropped, their flasks broke, and as the potions met, they exploded in a large flash of violet light. Ooo, pretty.
****************************************************
Lord Voldemort felt his body contort in pain while Bellatrix and Lucius knelt before him, and then he and his two loyal Death Eaters vanished in a large flash of even prettier violet light.
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Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I neither own Harry Potter nor Inuyasha. The fact that I have Sesshoumaru chained up in my basement does not effect the fact that I do not own him, which is sad. Fluffy is Fluffy. Sesshoumaru belongs to some mortal girl who will meet him in the future and surely woo him, just to be ironic (hopefully not Rin, just because that would be way too creepy, even if he does wait until she is older), Inuyasha belongs to Kagome AND NOT TO KIKYOU, and Harry Potter belongs the the Great Dark Lord Voldemort, who will rip out his heart and petrify it as an eternal testiment to his absolute power! Ahem, I seem to be getting carried away...
Oh, this is the first Inuyasha or HP fanfic that I have written, so beware! Oh, and I should mention that this is in Harry's fifth year. If you haven't read enough of the book to know who is teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, then beware! Actually, just read the whole thing before reading this. Come-on, I've read it twice, ok? And...well, be up to the point where Naraku has his new body, or maybe not quite that far, and you are ok. If you know who Kouga is, you are fine. Oh, and I know that my comment by Prof. McGonogall wasn't in character, and I apologize!!!!! I just couldn't resist. Please forgive me. *Starts beating self in head with tetsusaiga sheath* Bad, BAD DOBBY! BAD, BAD DOBBY!
Oh, and I know that later on I become more humerous and less serious, but please don't sue. Thank you. Please READ AND REVIEW. I LOVE REVIEWS. I apologize for not providing the web with lemony goodness, but I promise, as soon as I no longer live in my parents' home, I will treat the world to delicious lemons and limes, enough to make an NC-17 addict blush! :) For now, please be patient and enjoy.
Harry Potter is situated before Christmas in their fifth year. Inuyasha is less specific, but after Sango joined the group, but before Sango stole the Tetsusaiga (that's ok, she's forgiven). I apologize for non-seriousness, my writing style reflects my mood, so I'll probably go back and make the story more favorable later on, depending upon what reviewers want to read.
Harry Potter and the Warring States Era
1
Inuyasha let the waterfall's cool water run through his hair, wiping out the sweat, grime, and dried blood. He wanted to look good. If Kagome happened to like his hair clean, so what? And so what if he had "borrowed" her bottle of the liquid that smelled like her?
"You know, Inuyasha, I believe that you have used enough of Kagome's 'champ -ooh.'" Miroku said, pointing out that the wide stream was carrying bubbles on its surface as far as the eye could see.
"What's it to you, monk?" Inuyasha asked, shaking his hair to let the last of the beautiful-smelling liquid out. "I like it and I'll keep it, thank you very much."
Miroku shook his head at the half-youkai's stubborness, and stood up from where he had been sitting in the stream. He had bubbles on his chest where his chest had met the water, and he needed to rinse it off.
"Don't get too close, Miroku." Inuyasha warned. "If you try and cop a feel at me, you'll wind up with worse than a slap in the face, I can assure you of that. You'll wish that you had a little rosary around your neck that made you 'sit' every time Kagome felt like it. Understand?"
Miroku smirked. "Really, Inuyasha, as lovely as you are, my interests do lie in other areas. Were you female, a demon huntress, and were your name Sango, well . . . I can't say that it wouldn't be worth it then."
"Yeah, well, just stay on your own side of the waterfall. I don't want another 'incedent.'"
"I was asleep, Inuyasha, and I assure you that I was most definitely dreaming about Sango. I cannot be held accountable for my sleeping hand's actions. Besides, your backside is not nearly so soft as Sango's." Miroku looked sadly at his right hand, still with the prayer beads wrapped around it to keep the kazaana closed. The kazaana, the legacy of his family, the curse brought on by the demon Naraku.
For once being sensetive to the emotions of others, Inuyasha remained silent, finished rinsing off under the cool water, and lept onto the bank, so as not to get mud on his feet before he even dried off. Grabbing a towel, he patted himself down, and then slipped on his loincloth. Turning back to Miroku, Inuyasha grimaced. The monk had his eyes shut, and was standing there naked under the waterfall as though there were nothing in the world that mattered.
Well, perhaps it helps him to imagine that. Inuyasha supposed. I wouldn't want to live in a world without important things. I would feel like such a waste.
Inuyasha donned his pants, tied them, and donned his inner and outer kimonos respectively. The pants and the outer kimono were both woven from the hairs of the fire-rat, and granted protection against both blade and flame, though as a half-demon he didn't have as much need for it as he might have had he been a mortal.
Running his fingers through his beautiful silver hair in an attempt to get any more water droplets out, Inuyasha tested the air. He could smell that "champ-ooh" that he had taken from Kagome's bag in the air, and almost nothing else. Well, perhaps he had gone a touch overboard, but really, how was he supposed to know how much was needed? It wasn't like he could just ask her! She would never have let him use it. The bottle was just over half empty, and Inuyasha almost felt guilty. Almost, that is, because as soon as he realized that he was feeling guilty, his overly-macho-complex kicked in, and he suppressed the "weak" emotion. Of course, he didn't exactly have time to ponder, because-
"SIT!" came Kagome's voice from the woods. "Inuyasha, did you use my shampoo!!! Have you any idea as to how much it costs?!" Kagome was fuming, emerging from the woods. "Sango and I could smell it from the hot spring!!! How much did you use?!"
Pulling himself up from the ground gingerly, Inuyasha looked up at Kagome apologetically. "Sorry, I got a little . . . er . . . carried away. There's still, um, almost half left." Inuyasha said weakly, holding up the bottle and bowing his head submissively. He had no idea why he wasn't yelling right back at her, but it definitely wasn't that he was afraid of more 'sits.' Actually, though he would never admit it, there were times when he sortof . . . liked the 'sits.' Perhaps it was just that it put Kagome on a more even footing to him, but-
"Why in the name of the seven hells is he behaving?" Sango asked, stepping up behind Kagome. She had dressed, too, but she had taken longer, because her muscles still ached from the last battle. "It is so unlike him." She turned to Kagome. "Perhaps we should have Miroku excorcise him? He might be possessed."
ACTUALLY, came a booming voice that didn't even bother to use quotation marks, IT IS I, THE NARRATOR, WHO HAS CAUSED THIS MADNESS. I FIND THAT I CANNOT TOLERATE INUYASHA'S STUBBORNESS AND OVERLY-PRIDEFUL PERSONALITY, AND SINCE I AM THE ABSOLUTE AUTHORITY ON THIS FANFIC, I AM FROM NOW ON MAKING INUYASHA NOT ACT LIKE A FORSAKEN JERK. UNDERSTOOD?
Kagome and Sango nodded, and then returned to what they had been discussing.
"So," Kagome continued. "I suppose that I can forgive you this time, Inuyasha, but next time, please just ask. I would love to do your hair."
Before the dog-demon could respond, Sango gasped. "Ooo, look!" She pointed to the waterfall, where Miroku still stood, unaware of the visitors thanks to the roaring rush of the water. She and Kagome could both appreciate how the water slid down his body, strong but not too built to detract from his slimness.
Kagome and Sango caught themselves, and turned away, blushing. Meanwhile, Inuyasha had leapt to stand between Kagome and Miroku, and he kept his position despite the fact that Kagome had already turned her head.
Finally, Miroku noticed that the girls were present. Inuyasha might have expected him to try and parade and make a show of himself, as he obviously expected every female around to do for him, but instead he blushed, turning his back to the group and hastily edging away from the falls themselves, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist before he came over to get his clothes.
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"Mr. Potter, would you please be so kind as to stand up and show your potion to the class so that they can learn from your idiotic mistake?" Snape asked, grinning, his eyes shining with malice.
Harry Potter stood up, and picked up his cauldron carefully, and tilted it so that the brew did not spill, but so that everyone could see the dull, thick grey sludge that filled his cauldron. Hermione, of course, had hers a shining emerald green. Harry was relieved to see that no one but Hermione had managed to get their potion perfect, though his was one of the worst. Only one of. Neville Longbottom's cauldron had emptied itself with a puff of smoke, its legs had started moving, and it had dashed out the door halfway through the lesson. Ron Weasley's was a thin, runny blue that reminded Harry of very runny mucus.
"So, Harry, I see that you added six spider-leg hairs, instead of five!" Snape sneared. "Did I not say three equal deosil stirs with the spoon, and then four equal widdershins stirs with the spoon? And I seem to recall saying forty-six grains of sugar, not forty-seven 'for good measure!'" Snape was quite flustered. "You will clean up your cauldron, and you will not receive any marks for today."
Harry sat back down grumpily next to ron, while Hermione walked over and said "Evascendo!" and Harry's cauldron was suddenly empty.
"That is funny, Miss Granger." Snape's venomous voice came from the desk once again. "I don't seem to recall saying for Harry to rely on his mildly-competent classmate. And I do use the singular, for the Griffindor portion of the class. You may be able to follow simple instructions, Miss Granger, but do not think that it gives you the authority to do whatever you please in my class. Five points from Griffindor. Oh," He paused, smiling wickedly. "And since you feel that it is alright for other people to 'help' with eachother's clean-up . . ." Snape pointed is wand at Hermione's cauldron. "Evascendo!"
Hermione's potion vanished, and Snape grinned. "I see that you have no more results for the day than Potter. No marks today for you either."
Hermione sat down, slowly and silently. In her first or second year, she would have been on the point of tears. She was, however, used to Snape's treatment of her. She didn't exactly have a lot going for her in his book. She wasn't in Slytherin House, she was muggle-born, she was in Griffindor House, and she was close friends with Harry Potter. She might as well have not bothered in Potions, except that somehow the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, always managed to prevent Snape from failing them, so long as he believed that they had done their best despite Snape's obvious grudge. They never did wonderfully, but they still passed, which was good.
Ron was looking furiously at Snape. Snape noticed, unfortunately, and walked over slowly to the desk that he was at.
"I don't seem to recall giving you any Glaring Goop, Mister Weasley." Snape said, his voice dangerously quiet. "So I advise that you stop it, or I will be forced to start dosing you with random potions to see which is the antidote to whatever nasty thing it is that you swallowed." Ron's face paled and slackened with terror, but his ears remained pink with anger. Fortunately, Snape did not notice. "Ten points from Griffindor." He glanced at Ron's goop. "No marks for today. I suggest that you deal with your own mistakes, Weasley!"
The short remainder of the lesson was spent in silence, unless you counted Neville's cauldron limping slowly back into the classroom and over to Neville, followed by a very stern-looking Professor McGonogall. ("This . . . cauldron ran right into my transfiguration classroom and tried to attack the rats that I was turning into diamonds with my sixth years. It had best behave from now on, or Potions will find itself visited by some very large rats with diamond teeth.")
In the hallway afterwards, Harry patted Hermione on the arm. "It's alright, Hermione. He just hates you is all. It isn't your fault for trying to help."
Hermione nodded silently with a small smile playing across her lips, cheered up a bit.
"Lousy git," Ron muttered from the other side of Harry. "I'd like to turn him into something. You don't suppose that Professor McGonagoll would-"
"Oh, yes, Weasley," came a familiar drawl from behind them. "Run to McGonagoll with your problems." Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.
The three friends whirled to see Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Large, ogrish, and extremely stupid, they contrasted Malfoy. Nasty as he was, Malfoy was slim and fairly intelligent, even if it would never be put to good use.
"Of course," Malfoy continued to Crabbe and Goyle. "I don't suppose that he can run to that muggle-loving scum of a father that he's got. Though his mother's plump enough to carry the weight in the family, that's for sure."
Harry and Hermione had, just as a precaution, already taken hold of Ron's robes, but they were finding it hard to restrain him.
"Diffindo!" came a voice from behind Malfoy, and there was a loud rip sound, and Malfoy's eyes widened in shock. He placed his hands on his backside, and he, Crabbe, and Goyle rushed off towards the Slytherin dormitories, deep in the dungeons, his robes and all underlying clothing split cleanly around his bottom.
"It is a fairly nice bottom, you have to admit," Hermione muttered to herself, her eyes on the retreating annoyance. "A bit pale, but nice and-"
"Hermione!" Ron whispered loudly in shock, and Hermione nearly jumped.
"What?" Hermione gasped innocently. "He's still the scum of the Earth, but he isn't bad looking." She soon fell silent over the odd looks that Harry and Ron were giving her.
"Didn't think that mum would like it much if you got in trouble for fighting at school, Ron." Said Fred as he and his twin, George, approached. George was the one with his wand out, however.
"Yeah," said George. "Lousy little git doesn't deserve the effort, and he isn't worth the trouble that you'd get in. Especially with that Umbridge woman around here. And I use the term loosely, of course."
"Well, we should go." Said Fred merrily. "Lee Jordan . . . well, you'll find out soon enough. Let's just say that our little joke shop should be having something new available very soon."
"Oh, dear." Hermione said. She sighed. "Oh well, at least they are trying hard at something."
Silently nodding in agreement so that Ron wouldn't see, the three of them made their way to the Griffindor Common Room.
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"Jakken, if you don't choose to move faster, I shall be forced to kill you." Lord Sesshoumaru said, not letting his irritation alter his cool, calm, collected voice. His silver hair flowed gently in the breeze as he walked through the woods to stand on a cliff and observe. He found himself doing so more often of late. He had avoided the politics of other youkai. He had all but ignored the hanyou, his half-breed brother. He felt almost consumed with . . . something. It was as though he were searching for something, but couldn't find it.
"Of course, master!" came Jakken's irritatingly obnoxious voice from behind him. The toad-like imp practically waddled up to him, using the Staff of Heads as a walking stick. "I am sorry!" Sometimes Jakken was more than pathetic in his submissive manner. There were times when Sesshoumaru wondered why he kept the imp around, but he supposed that he had his uses. Even if he was foolish and obnoxious.
"Ah, Lord Sesshoumaru," came a dark and sinister voice from around him. "As I said that I might, I have come to call upon you again. This time, for information. Information concerning the human companion of the despised, one, Inuyasha."
Not letting the mention of his brother's name, or of the mortal girl phase him, Sesshoumaru did not even turn or stir, though the imbecile Jakken was turning his head this way and that, tryind desperately to find the source of the voice. The fool. If Naraku didn't want to be seen, he wouldn't be. At least it made Sesshoumaru look more calm and composed, complementing his manner.
"Ah, Naraku," Sesshoumaru said slowly. "You don't have another arm for me, do you? If you do, no thank you. The last time that I aided you, I did it because it was supposed to land me with the Tetsusaiga. I don't see any benefit in telling you about my half-brother's pet." Not that I know much about the mortal myself, he had to admit to himself.
"Fool," came Naraku's voice. "You would have had your brother's corpse had it not been for that baka ningen."
"Perhaps," Sesshoumaru said, not letting his affront make its way into his voice. That stupid human may have aided Inuyasha, and reversed the Tetsusaiga's transformation once, but surely it had been the demon in Inuyasha, not the human, that had allowed him to . . .
"Regardless," Naraku's voice came again. "It will strike quite a blow in your dear brother's heart if something happens to her. Just tell me what you know, and I will make it happen . . ."
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"Avery," came his abnormally high, sinister voice from the shadows. "I have been misinformed. You shall be punished most severely." The Dark Lord Voldemort pushed the feeling that he had had in his mind only a moment before, the feeling that somehow that Potter boy was aware of him, which was surely impossible, aside.
"My Lord, please!" Begged Avery, almost in hysterics on the floor. Some might have said that he had already paid enough for his mistakes, simply out of the terror at what might happen to him as punishment. The Dark Lord had surprised even himself with his lenience. Perhaps it was that he was so glad to have supporters again after fourteen years without his loyal Death Eaters to keep him company. Or perhaps it was that he knew that he did not have as many followers as he once had, even counting those still in Azkaban, and he could not truly afford to waste even one. And, though not perfectly reliable, Avery was a valuable resource nonetheless. And it would be one less person to smell the sweet aroma of terror rise off of in waves, if he were killed.
"Crucio!" Voldemort said, pointing his wand at the cowering Death Eater on the floor. Instantly, his body began to shake and jerk, and screams began to emit from his mouth. He writhed, twitching in agony, for less than a minute before the Dark Lord relented, but from the fear smell that entered Lord Voldemort's nostril slits, he would have wagered that it had felt like ages.
"Now," Voldemort said coldy. "Leave me. I should have killed you. And send for Lucius. Lucius and Bellatrix."
Grovelling and snivelling nearly as badly as Wormtail, Avery crawled out. "Thank you for your mercy, Dark Lord." Avery said in a hoarse whisper. Voldemort was pleased to detect that Avery truly was grateful.
It was mere moments before Lucius and Bellatrix entered. They both stood, while the Dark Lord remained in his tall chair in the shadows. Fitting, truly, that the two of them should stand in the light of the fire without fear, while the Dark Lord waited in the shadows, commanding them. Soon, he would reveal himself. But first, he would let the Ministry continue to make things harder for . . .
Was it hard even to think of his name? Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore. Nothing more than a transfiguration teacher. One who later became Headmaster. Dippet was Headmaster once, and he was also a fool.
Silently, letting them wait, Lord Voldemort let them sit in silence. It often caught people off guard. There was no real reason with these two, but it pleased him greatly to make others uncomfortable.
Bellatrix was hopelessly loyal, which was good. She was also very skilled at dueling, not incompetent like some of his followers.
Lucius was skilled, as well. Not so much as Bellatrix, but skilled enough to be a Death Eater. Skilled enough to deal with the fools who the Ministry let call themselves Aurors.
Lucious, however, could not be said to be hopelessly loyal. After the Potter boy defeated him fourteen years before, Voldemort had been unable to contact his loyal Death Eaters, and everything had fallen apart. While Lucius had claimed to have been acting under the Imperius curse, coming clean and pretending to work to aid the ministry, Bellatrix had had other goals.
She, and a group of other Death Eaters, including Bartemius, Crouch's own son, who were still free had gone to the home of two of the most despised Aurors of the Ministry. The Longbottoms. And there, they had tortured them. Tortured them until they were driven completely insane. According to Lucius, they were currently in Mundungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It served them right. Perhaps, once he had dealt with the fool Dumbledore and with the bumbling imbeciles in the Ministry, he would pay the Longbottoms a little visit himself. Perhaps he would even restore their sanity. Just for them to know true despair before he gave them pain that they had never known before, returning them to their state of insanity. It would be amusing to watch them in that form.
"Lucius," Voldemort let his tongue caress the name that belonged to one that was his. His Death Eaters were his family, and they were all his. "You say that Fudge has been pushing legislation to grant this Umbridge woman more authority, is that correct?"
"Yes, Dark Lord," said Lucius Malfoy. "She is making things exceptionally difficult for Dumbledore."
"Excellent. Now, listen to what I have to tell you . . ." So many plans, so little time. But, just as he had for fourteen years, the Dark Lord Voldemort would continue to bide his time. He truly was a serpent, and when the time was ripe, he would strike. And the venom in his fangs would be slow, but infinitely deadly.
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The youkai Naraku sat alone on the mountaintop, letting the wind carry his long, thick hair. He grinned. So. He thought. So. Her arrow pierced Sesshoumaru's youkai armor. Another arrow from her bow reversed the transformation of the Tetsusaiga. Kikyou is dead, but it seems that she has reincarnated into this girl's body to trouble me again. I must dispose of her. That will bring Inuyasha real grief. And that would bring me true happiness.
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Concealed in the clever guise of a disembodied, all-powerful voice, the Narrator cackled gleefully. With extra glee.
EXCELLENT, the Narrator said wickedly, once again without quotation marks. I HAVE SUCCEEDED IN AMUSING MYSELF! EXCELLENT. HMMM... PERHAPS I SHOULD ARRANGE FOR A CROSSOVER. OOO! BUT FIRST, I THINK THAT I'LL CREATE A CORPOREAL DUPLICATE OF MYSELF, NAMED "JADESPIDER" FOR THE HECK OF IT, WHO CAN SCREW AROUND WITH EVERYONE, TURN FLUFFY INTO A GIRL, AND HAVE WILD, KINKY SEX WITH A FEMALE SESSHOUMARU! NOT THE HARRY POTTER FLUFFY, BUT FLUFFY AS IN SESSHOUMARU, THAT BEING HIS NICKNAME.
**WE DON'T THINK SO!** Came another disembodied voice. Argh. The Narrator's parents. Stupid promises.
WELL, JADESPIDER CAN AT LEAST SCREW AROUND WITH EVERYONE, IF NOT IN AN NC-17, LEMONY SENSE. WHAT A PITY. BUT AFTER I NO LONGER RESIDE IN MY PARENTS' HOME, THE GEIS WILL BE LIFTED. I SHALL AWAIT MY SEVENTEENTH BIRTHDAY WITH EAGERNESS, AND THEN I SHALL FLOOD THE WORLD WITH LEMONY GOODNESS!
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Ron, Hermione, and Harry were wondering the halls of Hogwarts late at night, accompanied by Neville because he doesn't have very good luck. They were all under the invisibility cloak, of course. The exact reason for their being out of bed isn't important, as that it has no impact on the story. Let's just say that they were up to no good and leave it at that, ok?
For some reason they happened upon Fred and George, who had been stealing supplies from Snape's office to make their joke-shop supplies. Unfortunately, they didn't see the Troublesome-trio, nor the Negligable-Neville. And thus, they ran into them, and two of the potions that they had dropped, their flasks broke, and as the potions met, they exploded in a large flash of violet light. Ooo, pretty.
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Lord Voldemort felt his body contort in pain while Bellatrix and Lucius knelt before him, and then he and his two loyal Death Eaters vanished in a large flash of even prettier violet light.
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