DISCLAIMER: I do not own Naruto or Harry Potter. They are owned by Masashi Kishimoto and J. K. Rowling respectively
It was a rainy afternoon at number 4 Privet Drive. Grey clouds filled an already gloomy looking sky as thick sheets of water drenched Surrey. It had continued almost non-stop for the past several hours and the yards all had large pools of standing water. Petunia Dursley's flower bed was flooded, so that only the tops of the flowers could be seen, as it had been dug down lower than the rest of the back yard.
Inside the quaint two story house, which looked just like all the other quaint two story houses on the block, activity was at a minimum. Vernon Dursley, a rather large man, sat in the living room in his favorite chair. He was reading the days newspaper and nibbling on one of the cookies his wife Petunia had given him.
Petunia, a thin horse-faced woman, was in the kitchen, using the quiet of the afternoon to get some cleaning done while starting the beginnings of dinner for the evening. She had a roast slow roasting in the crock pot, and was mentally deciding whether or not to make her famous au gratin potatoes.
The other two residents of the house were a pair of boys. The older one was incredibly large for his size with blonde hair, while the younger was wiry thin with an uncontrollable mop of black hair. He also had a lightning bolt scar running across his forehead, which was currently hidden behind his bangs. The boys were cousins, but not exactly friendly with each other. The older, Dudley Dursley, was always doted upon by his parents, and had ended up spoiled and fat. The small boy was one Harry Potter, orphaned when he was a baby and raised by his mother's sister, if you could call his meager possessions, hand me down clothes, and undernourishment "raised". He was regularly used as a punching bag by his cousin, and had several scars and wrongly-fused bones to prove it.
Today, however, Dudley had been given strict instructions to be nice to Harry, if only because it was required to keep the peace and quiet the adults were enjoying in the house. Dudley complied as best he could, and the two were currently watching a movie in Dudley's second bedroom. As it was "as best he could" it meant that Dudley was sitting in a very beat up recliner (that had been new when he got it last year) munching on a fresh bowl of popcorn his mother had delivered, while Harry was forced to sit in the wardrobe and watch the movie through the opening, to ensure that as little of him as possible was in his cousins vision.
The movie had been going on for about an hour, and Harry was completely enthralled. He wasn't quite old enough, at just over 6 years old, to understand the plot, but he did know what kind of people were on the screen: Ninjas. The fighters on screen were destroying their opponents with flashy moves and cheesy voice dubbing, but still the young man loved it. He wanted so badly to mimic the actions on screen, but the one time he did, Dudley had heard the commotion from the closet, punched him, and leaned on the door for a while to ensure that he couldn't see. It had taken a few minutes before Dudley once again retreated to the softness that was his chair, allowing Harry to watch again.
Unable to resist any longer, he began to QUIETLY mimic the moves again, moving slowly to ensure that he didn't make too much noise. Unfortunately for him, his coordination was hindered by the coats and shirts, and he fell out the semi-open door. Dudley, much like the previous time, punched Harry with all of his might, kicked him back into the closet, and, using a ruler that was sitting on the desk nearby, shoved it inside the handles to ensure that it couldn't be opened again.
Harry sat in darkness, wondering when his cousin would let him out. He tried to beg forgiveness, but it was met with Dudley punching the door. So he curled up into a ball in the corner, as far from the opening as he could, and thought. He wanted to know why he had to live this way, with no friends, family that barely tolerated his existence most days, and having to watch day in and day out as his rotund cousin was given anything he wanted so long as he whined and begged enough first. The single time Harry had tried to get things like Dudley, it had earned him a lashing with his uncle's belt and he had spent a week in the cupboard under the stairs with a small amount of food given to him each evening before his aunt went to bed, leftovers from dinner that night.
As he sat there, he began to think about the movie he was missing. He remembered how the ninjas had never had to ask for anything. They took what they needed and hurt anyone who stood in their way. They didn't have to do the majority of chores in the house, or watch as others got spoiled rotten while they were neglected. They were powerful and in charge. I wish I was a ninja. I wish I was a ninja. I wish I was a ninja. Harry repeated this mantra over and over in his head, until suddenly a great pressure covered his body.
Dudley, who was enjoying the last of his movie, spilled his popcorn when there was a loud CRACK from the wardrobe. His father came running upstairs, red in the face, and demanded to know what that bloody noise was. Dudley just looked at the cupboard he had locked Harry into. Vernon removed the ruler and peered inside. There, on the floor of the wardrobe, was nothing but an old pair of shoes that had been pushed aside for the comfort of the one who HAD been sitting in there.
A/N With the way I write, it will be a bit before the next chapter is up. However, don't fret, as chapter 1 is almost done already and sitting at just over 7000 words. Chapter 2, however, will take some time.