Hello from the author! I don't own either of these franchises.

This is my first fanfic, so don't hate on me completely. The story will follow Ranma as he learns at Hogwarts alongside Harry, and then go through his adventures in Furinkan Town (this is what most fanfic writers call Nerima). Eventual RxA.

Genma has been removed-for now...

I will try to go through all the characters, their points of view and their flaws, but I might not get to everyone. If any flaws are discovered in my work, leave a comment!

Also, this will be rather long. Have fun!

A pair of sapphire eyes opened and looked up at the castle above. Ranma had spent the night at the foot of a castle which was-based on the smoke that rose from the chimneys and the lights from inside-someone's residence, a resort of some kind, or a museum. It was quite picturesque, with a lake at the foot and overarching mountains behind it splitting the clouds as they flitted by.

The martial artist stood up, stretched his sore limbs, and fixed his tousled hair, which had been mussed by sleep. Then beginning his morning run, he shot like a bullet from a...cannon? musket? It didn't matter-he was a martial artist, and if he couldn't block it, he could just dodge it. He was eleven years old, and nothing could stop hi-

SMACK*

Ranma had glanced a tree as he was running passed it, and the tree had...hit him?

His chest puffed out, and he got a cocky grin.

"I had no idea that I was that strong," he laughed, "I can't believe I hit the tree so hard that it swung back and hit m-"

SMACK*

Ranma sat up with a moan, "Okay, that was definitely not me..."

The head of a man appeared from beneath the tree. He was old, with half-moon glasses, and could not be described as anything but positively ancient. He glanced around and saw Ranma sprawled on the ground.

"Oh dear-I thought I heard something...," Ranma heard him say.

The old man pressed a knot on the tree and it stopped just inches from hitting Ranma a third time. He walked hurriedly over to the young Ranma and helped him up.

"Come on, we have to get away before it wakes up."

Ranma couldn't figure out what the strange old man was saying, and was thus rather flustered when he was pushed all the way to the castle, up a set of stairs, and into an office, apparently belonging to the man pushing him. On the way he had seen many people, all wearing the same ridiculous apparel as the elderly stranger who now sat before him, behind a desk. An exotic bird sat on a perch near the desk, a fiery red and beautifully majestic.

The old man said something, and Ranma figured that it was an English language. He didn't know exactly where he was at, since he had followed his pal Ryoga here, but he figured it was somewhere in either England or the USA.

"Soo. . . Do you speak Japanese?"

The old man broke out into a grin, "Ah! So that's what language you speak! I'm a bit of an otaku, so I decided to learn the language. My name is professor Dumbledore. I am the headmaster of the legendary wizarding school of Hogwarts, greatest in all of Europe! Back to the point, though. I was just asking you what you were doing on school grounds, since you don't seem to be a student. Care for a lemon drop?"

Ranma sweatdropped at the headmaster's belief in magic, but took a lemon drop, regardless. "This is a school? Looks like a fortress."

"Well, it was built with the intent to ward off attack," said the professor, "But you, young man, are far more interesting."

Ranma took the hint, and said, "I'm Ranma Saotome. I was trying to find a friend who ran into this forest, but I lost his trail and decided to camp out next to the lake."

"Stay here for a minute. I'll go find him."

Dumbledore stood up to leave, and strode quickly towards the door.

Ranma called out, "No! Hold up a minute!" but the professor was already gone, and Ranma had no idea of where he could possibly find the door.

With a sigh, Ranma sank back into his chair. He glanced up at the bird, and laughed.

"I don't suppose you could help me catch that poor old man!"

Much to Ranma's surprise, the creature opened its beak and gave a musical, lilting call. It flew over to Ranma and landed on his shoulder. As it swept its wings through the air, flames swirled around him and he felt the floor disappear. The tongues of fire faded and he saw that they were gliding next to none other than Dumbledore, who was sitting on a broom, soaring through .

Shocked, Ranma flailed about, causing the phoenix to accidentally let him slip. On instinct, Ranma pushed his ki into the air beneath him and propelled himself upward, knowing that it would only slow him, but hoping that it would keep his guts from being splattered on the ground. He heard Dumbledore shout in surprise, and felt the fiery bird grab hold of him and lift him back up to the same level as Dumbledore.

Dumbledore smiled at him, "I see you've made a friend! His name is Fawkes, and he is a phoenix."

"Yeah, I just asked him to help me catch you, and this happened!"

"Why did I need to be caught?"

"Because Ryoga is probably in Timbuktu by now!"

Meanwhile in Timbuktu*

ACHOO!*

"I swear, Ranma, if you're talking about me right now. . ."

Back in the headmaster's office, Ranma explained Ryoga's affliction.

"How interesting! I've never heard of a curse like that in my entire life." Continuing to himself, Dumbledore mumbled, "And I suppose that would explain why you lost his trail. . ."

Ranma, confused, asked, "Why do you think I lost his trail?"

"Magic, my boy! Obviously this school would have magical protection against Muggles! If we didn't, we could hardly practice the Art."

Ranma got excited, thinking that they practiced some form of ki arts in the castle.

'This must be some sort of ancient order of monks which has secluded themselves in order to practice ki arts! I bet that I could mooch some secret techniques off them!', Ranma thought.

Aloud he said, "Err. . .What's a muggle?"

Dumbledore looked at him strangely. "What do you mean, 'What's a muggle?' Why would your parents not tell a fine wizarding chap such as yourself what a muggle is?"

Ranma started snickering. The geezer was obviously delusional if he thought that Ranma Saotome was a wizard!

"What's so funny? Do I have a booger on my nose?" Dumbledore began to inspect himself in the mirror.

"Wizard?!" Ranma started to laugh. "Oh, gosh-hahaha! I'm not a wizard! I'm a martial artist, mr.! Hahahaha!"

"Well of course you're a wizard! If you didn't have a wizard core, you wouldn't even get close to the Hogwarts grounds! Wait-Could it be that your parents were muggles as well?"

Ranma wiped a tear which was brought on by laughing from the corner of his eye, "Geez, back to the muggle thing. What even is that?"

Dumbledore sighed. He had managed to avoid all the explaining with most of the muggle-borns this year, but this young man seemed like he might not attend if he didn't get his questions answered right away. He knew that he would have and aching head and a dry tongue by the time this session was over. He clapped his hands and a small, shriveled creature appeared with a noise akin to that of wood being chopped.

"What can I do for you, Master Dumbledore?"

"Would you go fetch a translation charm and some tea for us?"

The creature nodded and disappeared in the same way it had come. Dumbledore licked his lips, preparing for a long session of QA.

"You see, Ranma. . . "

An hour and several thousand questions later, Ranma finally knew the basics of the modern wizarding world. Apparently there was entirely different currencies, governments, schools, and even fast food chains in the wizards' domain. There was even a dark army, plotting against the forces of good. Of course, most of it Ranma doubted to be true, but he would go along with the old man's delusion-for now, anyways.

After seeing that all Ranma's questions were answered, Dumbledore decided that it was his turn to ask some questions. "So, Ranma, old are you?""Eleven."

The professor smiled. "Since you're only now learning about wizards, may I assume that you have not yet received any letters?"

"Letters? Like challenge letters?"

"Clearly that is the case. What I meant was invitation letters to join one of the wizarding schools of our society."

"Well, Pops and I move-I mean, I move around a lot, so the post office would hardly be able to reach me. . ."

An aging woman walked stiffly into the room, and spoke.

"I'm afraid we don't use the Muggle mailing system, young man. We send all our letters by owl."

Thinking that the woman was cosplaying like the headmaster, Ranma asked, "Who're you supposed to be?"

Dumbledore spoke up, "Let me introduce Professor McGonagall, the professor of transfiguration, head of the Gryffindor house, and deputy headmistress. She will be one of your professors should you choose to attend Hogwarts as a first year, as I was about to ask if you would. Now, what do you say, Ranma? Will you attend Hogwarts, and learn the mysteries of magic?"

Ranma sensed something about the lady that made him feel a little uncomfortable. . .perhaps even. . .Afraid? No, Ranma Saotome wasn't afraid of nothin'. She still made him uncomfortable, though. He concealed his concerns about the deputy headmaster, however, and continued the conversation.

"How much?"

"Excuse me?" Dumbledore responded.

"How much are the school fees?"

"Tuition is free. You only have to pay for school supplies. However, if you can't pay for that, I'm sure we can work something out. . ."

Ranma looked around, embarrassed, "Yeah, that would be helpful. . ."

"Well then, Professor Dumbledore," Ranma looked up; it was professor McGonagall who had spoken. "How about sending this young man to help out Hagrid? He was just asking for help, and this will save the trouble of finding troublesome students to assist him in the Forbidden Forest." To Ranma, she turned and supplied, "Hagrid is our gamekeeper here at Hogwarts."

"Brilliant, Professor McGonagall! Ranma, how would you like to have the honorable duty of preserving the wildlife-magical and mundane-of our school?"

Ranma shrugged. "Seems fine. When do I start?"

After a visit to Hagrid's hut and an introduction to certain brittle biscuits therein, the gamekeeper and his disciple wandered out into the forest. The mid-afternoon sun penetrated the leaves, but the dense woods kept the area chilled with a cold that raised goosebumps on Ranma's arms and sent chills down his back. The looming trees and twisting brambles created dark images in the martial artist's mind of how the forest might appear on a cold winter's night, filled with fog and the whispers of the wind. He decided that the Forbidden Forest was well deserving of its name.

As Ranma was letting his eyes and thoughts wander, Hagrid was going on about the duties of a Hogwarts gamekeeper.

"Y'see Ranma, the game doesn't often need protections from poachers-they're pretty capable of taking care of themselves. It's relationships between the critters that needs the protectin'! The centaurs aren't all too friendly with the spiders, an' the spiders tend to eat everthin' else, so sometimes they need what professor Dumbledore calls an ar-bi-tra-'or. That's what we do. We go out four times a day an' check for fights or any critter that's got 'emselves wounded."

As he spoke, Ranma heard a shuffling off to his right. Fang, Hagrid's dog, heard it as well, and he looked off in the direction of the noise, sniffing and growling. Glancing up, Hagrid readied his crossbow. Ranma prepared to fight, his eyes shifting from tree to tree. Ranma tensed, and then leaped to one side with unnatural speed, before running up the length of a nearby tree, grabbing something, and landing back where he started.

Hagrid clapped. "Why, that was incredible! With that sor' o' magic, you'll be th' star o' th' firs'-years, even with 'arry Potter bein' in your grade!"

Ranma smirked. "I don't use magic." He finally looked down at what he had caught and shrieked. It was a tall, elegant cat, with a puff of fur at the end of its tail, and oversized ears that somehow suited it perfectly.

Ranma, however, was too busy screaming and hiding behind Hagrid to notice. The cat cocked its head curiously. Fang was too shocked by Ranma's reaction to chase it. "IT'S A CAT! IT'S A CAT!", the confident martial artist screamed over and over.

Hagrid looked at it closely. "Why, tha's no' a cat! Tha's a kneazle!" The kneazle walked over to Ranma, who had calmed down considerably when he heard that it wasn't a cat, and purred as it rubbed against his leg. Ranma, by this time, was comatose.

"An' it seems to 'ave taken a lik'in to ya! Lucky you!" Hagrid continued to drone on about kneazles, and how he had always wanted one, and what they could do, while dragging the mostly unconscious Ranma along to continue their circuit. The kneazle followed happily behind.

As they neared the end of their rout, Ranma regained control of his bodily functions. He remembered something that Hagrid had said earlier, something about...

"Say, who's this Harry Potter guy?"

"Y'don' know abou' th Boy Who Lived?" Ranma shook his head no. "Well, I'll tell ya'."

So Hagrid gave him the story (a/n: very tragic story) of Harry Potter's encounter with the Dark Lord, intermixed with a large amount of crying and seemingly endless repetitions of "th' poor lil' tyke!".

By the time Hagrid was finished with the long, rambling tale, they were back at the gamekeeper's cabin. Hagrid invited Ranma in for a cup of tea, and Ranma, feeling that it would be rude to refuse, followed him in. Inside, it was warm and cozy, filled with oversized furniture that seemed like they would fit the large gamekeeper perfectly. There were biscuits cooking above a bed of coals in the fireplace, and a pot of water boiling beside it. Hagrid pulled out a chair for Ranma and placed a tall mug in front of him. As Ranma sat down, the kneazle leapt up onto his lap, having followed him in. Sitting down across from Ranma, Hagrid put down a basket of biscuits in the centre of the table and a cup for himself. Ranma sensed that he was about to be challenged in some way. Unconsciously, his hands began to pet the kneazle. He prepared himself. But Hagrid said nothing. The large man simply placed a teabag in each cup, poured the boiling water, and allowed the tea to steep. The feeling of a challenge grew stronger. Hagrid took a sip. Ranma realised that this was the nature of the challenge, and drank deeply. The tea scalded his tongue, but he dared not show any pain. He and Hagrid each took a biscuit. Hagrid took a large bite, and there was a loud crunch. Not to be outdone, Ranma placed the biscuit halfway in his mouth, only to find that it was hard as a rock. With renewed determination, Ranma set his jaw to work, and bit through the biscuit with his considerable strength.

Hagrid smiled. "Hahaha! I like ya, kid!" Ranma glanced up in surprise. "Yer the firs' one ta 'andle my tea an' biscuits so easy since the ol' gamekeeper!"

Ranma laughed along with him. "I thought you were challenging me! I guess I was right!"

"S'pose so. Say, Ranma, what house are you planning on try in' for?"

"Whad'ya mean?" Ranma had not yet been told about the sorting.

"Well, thar's Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. The four houses o' 'Ogwarts! It's who yer gonna live with for the nex' seven years!"

"So is any of them better than the others? Does being in any of them mean anything?"

"I s'pose that most great witches an' wizards come from Gryffindor. And a lot of dark wizards are from Slytherin. But that don't mean the same's true for all of 'em, in either house. Gryffindors are always brave, Ravenclaw's got the smarts, Hufflepuff is kind, an' Slytherin's crafty. That's all they really mean. Oh! An' they're all based off the four founders o' 'Ogwarts!"

"Sounds complicated. How do we choose?"

"Well, there's a whole ceremony, but I'll keep that secret for now." An owl flew through Hagrid's window and dropped a letter on the man's lap. "Ah! Looks like it's time t' get yer things! Yer school supplies, ah mean."

Hagrid handed him the letter and put on his coat. A dingy pink umbrella was slipped underneath. "We also need ta' pick up 'arry—the 'arry Potter I mentioned before." Hagrid looked outside. The sky was almost completely void of light by this time, and the fire pit provided most of the room's brightness. "But I s'pose all that can wait till mornin'. I'll take yer to Dumbledore so's he can show yer to yer room."

After seeing the route twice, Ranma had the path memorized. They set a brisk pace in heading up the stairs, and arrived in Dumbledore's office quite quickly. The headmaster glanced up over his half-moon glasses as they entered the room, and set down the paper that he had been reading.

"I suppose you will be ready to turn in for the night."

Hagrid spoke for him. "We need to go get 'arry in the mornin', so I'm havin' him turn in early."

"Would you like to have dinner in your room, or do you want to eat with the other students, Ranma?"

Ranma decided that it would be nice to have some company closer to his own age, and asked accordingly. He was taken down to the great hall, and was amazed by what he saw. A perfect image of the night sky was painted on the ceiling hundreds of feet above him, and the room was lit by thousands of candles that floated randomly on invisible holders which caught the wax.

Ranma finally let his gaze drop from above and saw four tables, each backed by a beautiful banner emblazoned with the emblem and name of one of the houses. Remembering that Gryffindor was the house of the courageous students, he walked over to the table backed by red and gold and sat across from two students who looked to be identical twins. Ranma, though he didn't say it, thought it funny that their orange hair matched the house's colours.

[A/N: I know that the Weasley twins went home during the breaks, but for the sake of the plot line, they went to Hogwarts a few days early and had Mrs. Weasley bring them their school supplies.]

"Hi. I'm Ranma Saotome. Mind if I sit here?" He asked.

The twins looked up and smiled.

"Sure, go ahead." They said in unison. They introduced each other as Fred and George, and let Ranma eat for a little while from the platters in the middle of the table. A bowl of milk appeared for the kneazle.

"So what house are you in?" asked Fred.

"I'm not in any house, yet. I'm just joining this year."

"Ahhh." they responded. "That explains why we didn't recognise you. Hoping for Gryffindor, eh? It's the best house."

One of them spoke again. "Care for a candy?" The other elbowed the first. "George, we don't want to scare him off! I thought we agreed to wait till after the sorting!"

George sighed. "I s'pose we did."

Ranma learned that the two made, distributed, and sold magical pranking products, and often enjoyed giving them to unsuspecting first-years. Ranma laughed with them, exchanged a few more pleasantries, and then found Dumbledore to ask him to be led to his quarters. The two walked off into the castle.

Dumbledore spoke up. "I took the liberty of bringing your things inside; they should be in your room."

Unfortunately, the two could not find the room that had been spoken of. They crossed the length of a hallway three times before Ranma noticed a certain door and pointed it out. They looked inside and saw that it was full of beds of all different types. The headmaster and Ranma agreed that this would be a perfectly appropriate place for Ranma to spend the night. Dumbledore apologized, explaining that there would be a more permanent room for him to sleep in the next night, since tomorrow would be the sorting. A few minutes later, all Ranma's worldly possessions were magically transported to his room, and he got dressed for bed.

He looked at the kneazle, which was now resting beside him. "I suppose we'll have to find a name for you, huh?"

The cat-like creature looked at him. She was a sable creature with streaks of blue in her fur and striking blue eyes that seemed to betray a high level of intelligence. Her eyes glimmered in the candle light.

"Everything about you seems to glimmer," he said, more to himself than to the feline. And it was true—its fur coat sheened, her claws shined, and even the air around it seemed to glow.

"I think I'll call you Glimmer." The kneazle looked up, and, seeming to understand, gave a short purr.

Ranma hugged Glimmer and leaned back in his bed. He pulled out a photo of his dad and set it in a nightstand. Ranma thought about Genma, and wondered if he would ever see his old man again. Sure, his pop did some pretty messed up stuff, but his pop was his pop. He sighed. The strange event that had happened back then was in the past, and he had already resolved to not think about it anymore, and to move on with his life. With that sentiment in mind, he leaned back and drifted off to sleep.