Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any elements belonging the the Harry Potter series. All Harry Potter related content is the sole property of J.K. Rowling. Any OCs and unfamiliar concepts are mine.

For a more extensive explanation of the OC's in this story please read the Author's note at the end. This story will not contain any romance between Harry Potter characters and my original characters. This story will center on friendship/fantasy/adventure.

Chapter One: An Unexpected Encounter

Summer had not been fun for Harry Potter, not that it ever was. Every year, he had to endure life at Number Four Privet Drive with The Dursley's who were the only family he had left. Unfortunately, they weren't very fond of Harry, not even his Aunt Petunia who was his mother's sister.

She was a nosy woman with a horse-like face and a long neck that came in useful for her hobby, spying on the neighbors. Aunt Petunia took pride in three things, her family(excluding her nephew and sister, of course), her home and the fact that she knew more about the neighbors' lives and troubles than was necessarily healthy.

It only stood to reason that the rest of her family were not very pleasant either. Uncle Vernon was a large man, very much like a walrus, strict and with a 'healthy' hatred for all that was magic or required imagination. It was a good thing his son, Dudley, had no imagination whatsoever. Though that wasn't the only thing he lacked in the brain department. He more than made up for it in size though, and Harry still wondered when he would become big enough that they had to widen the doors.

In stark contrast with his so called family, Harry Potter was a scrawny thirteen year-old boy, too small for his age and too thin to wear the massive hand-me-downs from Dudley he received. He was normal enough at first glance, but it was only when you looked closer, something few ever did, that you noticed the brilliant green eyes hidden behind round wire glasses and the peculiar lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, barely visible beneath messy dark hair that stuck out at odd angles. The scar was the only reminder of his past, proof that he was the Boy-Who-Lived, the only known survivor of the killing curse launched by the dark wizard, Voldemort himself.

It was the same curse that had killed his parents when he was only a year old, resulting in him being sent to live with the Dursleys. It wasn't something Harry liked to dwell on. That was why he was happy to find that his friends from Hogwarts, the magical school he attended, had sent him presents for his birthday. They had helped to distract him during the long weeks in Surrey, especially after his Aunt Marge, who wasn't really his aunt, had arrived for a visit.

She was even more unpleasant than the rest of the Dursleys put together. Marge was as large as her brother, loud and rude. She liked nothing better than to spoil Dudley senseless while pointing out Harry's faults, it was like some kind of sick hobby of hers and it drove Harry crazy. It was only the promise of having a permission slip signed that kept him from fighting back. Vernon had agreed to sing the slip allowing him to visit Hogsmeade, the wizarding village near Hogwarts, if he behaved while his sister was staying with them.

Harry felt proud for having put up with Marge for as long as he had. He had ignored her harsh comments about his appearance, uselessness and ungrateful ways for a week, staying strong and determined to not let her get to him. He was only too glad when the last evening of her stay arrived, grateful that he would not have to see her for a long time after.

Unfortunately for Harry, things were never that easy for him.

He had made it through most of dinner, carefully ignoring everything that the large and drunk woman said. Harry would have been fine if it hadn't been for the insults shifting to focus on his parents. There were things that Harry wouldn't stand for, things that made him lose his usually calm demeanor and speaking of his parents the way Marge had was one of those things.

That was how his aunt had ended up blowing up after he lost control of his magic, leading him to leave the Dursley's house. Harry had no idea of where to go or how to get there. He was now alone with a trunk full of magic books and an empty cage with the ministry after him, because he knew they would be searching for him after he had broken the law on underage magic.

Just as Harry was wondering whether he would be kicked out of school, he heard a low sound, like a groan, almost. Warily, he looked around, searching for the origin of the noise, wand drawn. He figured it wouldn't make any difference if he used a bit more magic and he wasn't about to stand there defenseless.

The street was dark and empty, at least from what he could see. He squinted in the night, trying to get a glimpse of whatever was hiding around there. An unexpected breeze made the park swings shift slightly, the chains creaking from old age. Harry was about to give up and go back to where his trunk was, but then he heard it again, and this time he also caught the bushes moving near a tree in the park.

Warily, Harry took a few steps forward, wand pointed and ready to fire whatever spell came to mind.

"Who's there?" Harry called out.

He waited nervously for a response of any kind. When none came, he got closer, still on alert. The past two years had taught him never to let his guard down, especially since very unusual things happened around Harry. He was not disappointed this time.

Laying there in the bushes was a girl, thin and rather pale, though perhaps it just seemed that way because it was so dark. Her hair was cut short, perhaps just brushing her shoulders, and splayed out messily around her face, inky black in color. She was dressed simply in shorts, a dark blue t-shirt, a sort of belt with several little pouches and some sneakers. There really wasn't anything strange about her, apart from the fact that she appeared to be unconscious behind the bushes of a park in Surrey.

Unsure of what to do, but not really believing that he would be attacked, Harry tried to wake her by shaking her shoulder.

"Hey, wake up," he called. "Come on, you can't just stay here."

As safe as the neighborhood was, it was never a good idea to sleep outside at night, especially since there was supposed to be some escaped convict around. At least, that was what Harry had heard on the news. To his relief, the girl shifted and with a groan, she began to open her eyes.

Harry still clutched his wand, though it was now hidden in his pocket. He wouldn't take any chances and the ministry was still after him. He watched as she sat up with some effort, a disoriented look on her face.

"Doko ka...?" she muttered in a daze.

Harry blinked, not having any idea of what the girl had just said. She was looking around the dark playground in confusion. Her eyes finally settled on Harry and she blinked in surprise before standing and taking a couple of shaky steps away from him.

"Dare ka?"

Harry stared blankly, not understanding what the girl had said.

"Er, sorry, I don't understand," he said awkwardly.

Her brow furrowed slightly and a small frown appeared on her face as she seemed to think on what he had just said.

"Who are you?" she asked with a strange accent.

It took Harry by surprise to hear her speaking English, but he was glad they could understand each other, even if it was clear she had trouble with the language. Still, he wasn't so sure he should give his name to someone he had just found lying in a park.

"I'm, er, Harry," he said hesitantly, deciding she might not even know who Harry Potter was. There really wasn't a reason to believe she was from the ministry and why would a witch be around that place?

"Hari," she said, mispronouncing his name due to her accent.

"Where is this?" she asked him.

"Er, Little Whinging, Surrey," he said, uncertainly.

She frowned and shook her head.

"What country?"

Harry stared at her after that question. She didn't even know what country she was in. That certainly explained why she spoke some other language. Now that Harry looked at her closely, she looked to be Asian.

"England," he said.

She blinked, seemingly surprised, her frown deepening. It was clear that Harry hadn't given her any good news. He stepped closer to her, confident she wouldn't attack him. She didn't look to be particularly dangerous.

"Listen, if you're lost or something you could ask-"

Before Harry could finish speaking, he had been pulled by his shirt rather roughly and released abruptly. He stumbled for a bit and then turned to snap at her and ask what the bloody hell she was doing, but stopped when he realized he had once again been wrong. This girl wasn't just a normal girl.

Her right hand was curled slightly and she was holding what could only be described as black fire, or at least, that was what it looked like to Harry. It engulfed her hand and shifted around it, dark wisps dissolving in the wind. She was looking ahead at something on the other side of the street with a wary expression.

Harry couldn't see anything ahead, but then it was dark. He advanced slowly, squinting his eyes to try to see if there was something or someone hiding out there. He hoped there wasn't because he really didn't want to do any more magic, even if the girl behind him was from the magical world. Though a bit more wouldn't hurt now that he was on the run and he wouldn't hesitate to defend himself.

He felt a hand on his arm and glanced to the side and at the girl he had just met. She kept her eyes ahead and was about to say something when he got the prickly feeling on the back of his neck he got when he was being watched. There was very little light on the street and he couldn't make out much, but there was something standing in a narrow alleyway between a garage and fence.

"Lumos," Harry muttered, and a light shone brightly at the tip of his wand. In an instant, Harry knew he had not done the smart thing.

The girl made a panicked sound and stumbled back and away from his wand, the strange thing in her hand dispersing in a messy mist as she fell. He heard a growl on the other side of the street and, with the light from his wand, was able to make out a large shape with great glowing eyes, stalking towards them.

Harry took a step back and tripped over the girl's foot and his wand slipped from his hand, as he quickly moved his arm to break his fall.

There was a loud BANG and suddenly, Harry had to raise his arms to avoid being blinded by the bright lights that had appeared out of nowhere. He felt himself being pulled back onto the pavement just in time to avoid the huge, triple-decker bus. It was a bright purple color with gold lettering on the windshield spelling out The Knight Bus. From it stepped out a tall boy, about eighteen or nineteen years old with large ears and quite a few pimples. He began to recite a sort of introduction, something about the bus being for stranded witches and wizards.

Harry didn't pay much attention, still wondering what that thing lurking in the alley had been. The girl had already stood and was pulling him to his feet, something that must have been rather hard for her since she was so short and thin. Once on his feet, Harry looked back at the now empty space where something had been standing, watching.

"'Choo looking at?" said Stan Shunpike, the conductor.

Harry wondered if he should tell him about the dog-like thing he had seen, but the girl spoke first.

"This bus go anywhere?" she asked curiously.

"Yep," Stan answered with pride, "anywhere you like, long's it's on land. Can't do nuffink under water. 'Ere," he said, and Harry could tell he was suspicious of them, "you did flag us down, dincha? Stuck out your wand 'and, dincha?"

"Yes," Harry answered immediately, thanking the heavens for the very convenient appearance of the bus.

"How much to go to London?"

"Eleven sickles," Stan answered.

Harry was already digging in his trunk for his money bag as Stan told him about the other offers including things like hot cocoa. He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked at the girl he had found.

"How far London?" she asked.

Harry blinked, not sure why she would want to know that. Then it hit him; she hadn't known what country she was in, and hadn't recognized the bus. How likely would it be for her to have money for the Knight Bus if she didn't even know about it?

"Why?" he asked her.

"No money, so I walk," she said simply, and Harry wondered why she didn't seem worried at all about the fact that it was late at night and she barely even spoke the language.

Harry pulled out some gold coins and shoved them into Stan's hands.

"You can come with me if you're going to London," Harry told her, not wanting to leave her behind when there was something lurking nearby. Besides, whatever it was she had done earlier proved that she wasn't a regular person and he was curious. Years later, Harry would look back on that night and admit that it had been his 'hero complex', as his friends called it, that led him to let the girl tag along.

She looked reluctant to accept his help, but in the end followed after him and Stan with Hedwig's cage while the other two lifted the trunk into the bus.

Strangely, there were no seats on the bus, only beds and both Harry and the girl looked around curiously. They were given beds near the driver's seat and introduced to the driver, Ernie Prang. When asked for his name, Harry used the first to pop into his head; Neville Longbottom. He ignored the funny look the girl on the next bed gave him. It was only when Stan asked for her name that Harry realized he didn't know it either.

"Mira Miyake," she said easily. "It nice meeting you."

She still needed to work on her English. Soon enough, they were on their way with another BANG and the new passengers were thrown back onto their beds as the bus lurched forward violently. Stan helped the few other passengers off and then immersed himself in a copy of the daily prophet, giving Harry a chance to question the girl currently holding onto the bed's railing in an attempt to remain sitting.

"So, where are you going to go once you get to London?" Harry asked, not really sure about where to start with his questioning.

She looked at him for a moment before answering.

"I visit, uh, friends. I know people in London, but not know where."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the answer.

"You don't know where they live?"

She shook her head. "Never gone," she answered.

Harry frowned, trying to make sense of that.

"Where are you from?"

"Japan, Tokyo. Not knowing how came here," she admitted, a thoughtful look on her face.

"Do you remember what you were doing before?"

The simple question seemed to take her a while to answer. It was like she didn't know how to answer him, but she did in the end.

"Yes," she said thoughtfully, and then, something seemed to have occurred to her and she frowned.

"What year it being?"

Harry was startled at the question, but answered nonetheless. "1993," he said.

She just sat there for a while, her face paling considerably and her blue eyes, rather strange for a person of Asian descent, Harry thought, widening.

"Why does that matter?" Harry asked her.

She looked at him and shook her head.

"Can't say," she explained. "Not sure what happen."

Harry wasn't sure what she meant, but there was something else he was curious about.

"So, you're a witch then?"

Immediately, she turned to glare at him, something Harry found rather strange.

"Not witch," she snapped.

"Er, sorry, it's just what you did back there, er, what was that?"

She looked at him suspiciously, clearly having been offended at being called a witch.

"Can't tell," she told him, irritation still evident in her voice. "That," she pointed at his pocket where he had stuck his wand, " what it being?"

Harry suddenly didn't feel like telling her, not when she didn't tell him about herself.

"Can't tell," he said, amused at the way she glared at him, "but I'll tell you if you answer my questions."

For a moment, she looked torn between trusting Harry and telling him to bug off. With a sigh, she nodded.

"I tell, but not here," she glanced at Stan, who was still reading the paper.

Harry agreed and the rest was spent with her trying to see what they were driving past and Harry talking to Stan. He had found out that the convict that had appeared on the news was a wizard. He had escaped from the prison, Azkaban, where he had been held for twelve years for murdering thirteen people in broad daylight.

On the bed next to him, Mira was listening intently. Harry could tell because her eyes would turn their way every now and then, most likely when something caught her interest. After a while, talk of the convict, Sirius Black, died down and Harry was left to lay on his bed, wondering what he would do now. He couldn't go back to Hogwarts, not after he had blown up his aunt, so where would he go. He thought he would lay low for a while, get some gold from Gringotts and then leave, though he wasn't really sure why.

Maybe he would help Mira find her friends in London. He really didn't have anything better to do and it would be nice to travel with someone else instead of by himself. Besides, he was still curious about her and she had said she would answer his questions later.

Soon, they had reached their destination, The Leaky Cauldron, entrance to Diagon Alley. Mira and Stan helped him get his things out, the girl deciding to stick with Harry for a while. He supposed it was to be expected since she didn't know anyone else or where she was, even. He thanked Stan, but he wasn't paying attention, instead staring at something behind Harry.

"There you are Harry," said a voice, and Harry couldn't help but panic at the thought of having been found. It seemed that his great escape had been cut rather short.

Hello there and thank you for reading this story. I hope it was to your liking and now that you're done with the first chapter, let me explain more about the concept and characters.

Mira is a character from one of my original stories that I decided to cross over into the Harry Potter world just to satisfy my curiosity as to what would happen. Because of this, she has her own world and story though it is heavily AU from my original story, this was done to make it easier to understand for readers and because I don't want to give away any of the plot for my story.

As to her troubles speaking, she's from Japan, and alternate world Japan, but still Japan. She knows English because she has studied it a bit, but not enough to have proper sentence structure and know the finer points of grammar. Don't worry, she will get better and there will be no mixing of English with Japan words. She will speak Japanese, but that will be in italics.

At the moment, the story is based heavily on the original Harry Potter plot line, but it will deviate as it moves along. The plan with this is to take it through all the books from the third onward, each moving away from the HP story a bit more. I have already written enough for a few chapters and have some excerpts from the fourth book done just to cement my ideas.

For all readers I recommend looking at this as just an HP story with original characters thrown in. Please do not Review telling me Mira is a Mary Sue or whatever, she's my character and if she seems like the main character type, it's because she is a main character of her own story. Regardless of that, most of this story, at least for the third book, will be looked at from Harry's point of view, occasionally switching to another character's point of view.

Please review and tell me what you think about it. I'm writing this mainly to put the idea to rest since it's been bugging me and I can't write anything else until it's out. Thank you for checking it out and I hope you stick around.