3
Dinner with Slughorn
If Harry was certain of something, it was that he would never have an uneventful stay at Hogwarts. Even those one day guest lectures in the past were always accompanied by an odd event, though nothing on the magnitude of the exploding disarming charm.
This time around, it was Nat that was the source of his headache. He was now eager to speak to Luna about Nat, and could not stop thinking about that disastrous disarming spell. The force of magic he felt from the boy reverberated throughout his body. He swore if he stayed still enough he could feel a slight warm tremor at the core of his body, as if the remnants of Nat's magical energy was still ricocheting around in his ribcage. The boy was from Japan—was it mere coincidence that the Hidden Continents of Japan were just now contacting them for the first time? Why had Luna brought him all the way to Hogwarts?
The headache the boy gave him was immediately forgotten when two owls arrived shortly after the incident. One was from the Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt and the other from Hermione. Both lay unscrolled on his desk and were slightly crumpled from rereading. Both talked about the same thing: a second letter from the isolated Japanese Continent requesting that the wizards and witches meet them in their land.
Needless to say, this was shocking. Unprecedented as well, though unprecedented things were the theme of the year.
The original plan had been to meet the Hidden Continent Wizards at border of the Ancient Barrier in Japan. It had been implied in the first letter that it would be a bad idea, plainly speaking, for the wizards to step into their land. It seemed that something had happened to change the minds of the Hidden Continent wizards and witches—or shinobi, as they called themselves.
If the ministries on this side of the world were going to visit the Hidden Continents, Harry could only imagine the thrill and anticipation coursing through every department in every ministry all over the world. He was surprised the Prophet hadn't reported on it yet. However, this also meant that less people will be going to the meeting, and the press would not be present either. A total party of 55 people was slated to go, according Shacklebolt, five officials from ten countries, and five multilingual translators. Harry took a moment to wonder how safe it was for ministers from all over the world to go to a place where wizards and witches could not access in case something happened, but he imagined such worries paled in comparison to the sheer opportunity and singularity of this event.
Hermione lamented in her letter that she was cut off the 'five officials' but consoled herself with the fact that both Ron and Harry were able to go. They would expected to report every minute detail to her. The five officials from the British Ministry were Kingsley, two auror guards Harry and Ron, and the Heads of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
"I suppose the Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement would be somewhat useless to have at the meeting," wrote Hermione. Harry could just hear the dejected sigh, "Percy feels quite slighted as the Undersecretary, you know. He's still upset that Ron is going, though he tries to hide it." Harry grinned at the thought of poor Percy.
"I will be in the waiting party in Japan, so will he," Hermione continued, "And I'll be handling the production of the translating neck charms and receiver translation bracelets for the British Ministry. I must say I underestimated the work! Making a charmed necklace that translates ten different languages at ten different frequencies is more difficult than I anticipated. I thought Portuguese was difficult, but Korean was a killer, even with the magical pre-programmed language kit I'm using. Good thing I'm not making the receiver for the other languages, though I admit if I had the time I would love the challenge."
"Thank goodness you don't have the time, Hermione," Harry muttered to himself.
"Ron and I will be joining you on your last day at Hogwarts so we can go to Japan together. We are catching the portkey to Tokyo the next evening from London. From there we're going to floo powder to the meeting place in Kushiro in Hokkaido. I realized recently that this confirms that the Continents are in the Pacific Ocean east of Hokkaido, and not east of Honshu as many speculated. I honestly think the continents might be big enough to span both, but we'll learn soon. We were given coordinates for a location the Japanese wanted to meet behind their barrier and it is in the vicinity of Hokkaido. Now about the barrier itself…"
And she had gone on for two more paragraphs about the barrier and the location of the continent, wandless magic, all of which, she noted were pure speculation by hobbyists and people who believed in the existence of nargles. She complained about how Japanese Ministry was being absolutely useless reigning in some loud and troublesome organizations that opposed the meeting. Harry smiled weakly at the short lesson on the Japanese Hidden continent and its place in the modern Japanese Wizarding Community. He was sure Ron had cut her off before she could write in an entire essay.
"I hope your classes are going well! We'll see you and the kids soon! Ron says Hi!
Love,
Hermione"
Classes are going really well, Harry had thought sarcastically when reading the sentence.
The letter from Shacklebolt was terse in comparison to Hermione's, telling Harry he would be debriefed on the details of the meeting in Tokyo. After digesting the two letters, Harry put them away safely in his bag and left Kelliswath's room for Great Hall for dinner, anticipating the curious looks and questions about the incident with Nat. The boy's energy baffled Harry.
On his way down, he ran into old Slughorn.
"Harry!" Slughorn greeted, "Quite the commotion in your classroom this morning, eh? I must say that boy have a great amount of magic in him from what I hear. A disarming charm?" He let out a hearty chuckle. "He is abysmal in potions class so I never paid special attention to him, not to mention that I have hard time communicating with him. But I wanted to tell you Harry, is the tea I promised. Tomorrow at dinner time good for you?"
Harry nodded, "Sure, professor. Where should we meet?"
"Oh, in my office, Harry, as usual," Said Slughorn, patting Harry's shoulder, "Now, to dinner! You must be hungry after all that happened today, I'm sure." And thus Harry was escorted by Slughorn to dinner.
After dinner, Harry took a plate of treacle tart and headed up to the Hospital Wing to see Nat. He should have known that his children wouldn't let him visit their friend in peace, and so he went up to the Hospital Wing surrounded by a gaggle of Nat's friends and well wishers. Madame Pomfrey was not happy, but Nat, who was sitting in bed with a bowl of some form of steaming noodle soup before him, was positively overjoyed. Harry was surprised to find that he already had a visitor: Luna Lovegood Scamander. She sat in a chair next to the bed, and looked up from behind the latest issue of the Quibbler as the noisy lot rushed in. Her wand was tucked behind her left ear and her silvery-blonde hair was in a loose bun, showing off a set of realistic looking green frog earrings. Harry would not have been surprised to see it start hopping about her ear. She smiled faintly and nodded at Harry.
"Harry," she said in greeting, "Nat and I were just talking about you."
"Harry Potter! Minna—ano—everyone! Look look!" Nat waved his arms as if he wouldn't be able to get Harry's attention otherwise, and pointed at the bowl of soup he had in front of him with the widest, brightest smile he could muster. His eyes were sparkling. "Luna bring me! Ramen! Chashu miso ramen!"
"With extra pork, bamboo and the little cute naruto things," Luna added.
"You remember!" Nat looked at Luna with eyes glowing with admiration and love.
Luna beamed at the boy. "How could I forget? You ate it almost everyday. I bought this straight from Japan."
"Ano sa, ano sa," Nat shouted excitedly. If he wasn't sitting in bed with a bowl of hot noodle soup, Harry reckoned he would have jumped out of bed. Instead, he just waved his hands about as if he was still trying to get Harry's attention. "She also bring cup ramen!" Indeed, in a bag on the floor was packages of instant noodle soups. Harry had seen them before in muggle shops. It was known to be notoriously convenient and unhealthy. Harry gave Luna a questioning look, but she only smiled.
Nat's friends, Harry's children, nieces and nephews included, surrounded Nat and poked and prodded and teased him. It was, as expected, chaotic and noisy; at some point pieces of the ramen noodles were being flung around while Nat had everyone taste the soup and then seemed upset that so much of his treasured food was gone.
Madame Pomfrey gritted her teeth and bore the disruption. It was only when Hugo accidentally tipped the bowl over and spilled the (thankfully lukewarm) soup all over Nat and the hospital floor that Madame Pomfrey kicked everyone out, Harry and Luna included. The students left groaning and moaning about how unfair it was while Nat was left alone, looking at his spilled ramen in horror and dejection.
"Ahhhh," Nat yelled, throwing himself back onto his pillow, "Huuugooo!"
The Weasley in question heard his name echoing all the way down to the Great Hall. He shivered in fear.
"I'm glad he's made so many friends," said Luna, as they left the Hospital Wing together. She was gazing fondly at the students running off before them.
"He's very popular, isn't he?" Harry observed, "Very energetic too."
"Energetic is an understatement, I'm afraid," said Luna, with a vague smile.
"You brought him ramen?"
"When I found him in Japan, it was the one thing that really opened him up," said Luna. "Miso ramen with extra chashu pork, with those little narutos and bamboo. Extra egg. He was very specific about it. He couldn't remember his name, but he knew exactly what type of ramen he liked."
"What happened to him, exactly?"
"It's a bit of story, Harry. I have a meeting with the Headmaster tonight. About Nat. You should join us."
He remembered the Headmaster mentioning this. "I'll be there. I have questions too," said Harry.
Luna nodded. She looked like she wanted to add something, but only said, "I'm going to put my things away in my room. I'll meet you at Professor Veralong's at nine tonight."
Harry arrived at the Headmaster's office at nine to find Professor Veralong and Luna waiting for him. Tea was already being served, and the Headmaster poured him a cup as he took his seat next to Luna.
"I should let you know," said Professor Veralong, "That Nat has been released from the Hospital Wing and is back in the Gryffindor Dormitory. I daresay, if he stayed any longer, Madame Pomfrey might have resigned. I heard the entire Gryffindor quidditch team snuck into the Wing and played a game of table quidditch with Nat. I'm afraid your son has had his detention extended."
Harry smiled, outwardly apologetic for his son's troublemaking, and inwardly with amusement.
"The children are very fond of him," was all he could say, thinking back to the chaotic ramen flinging scene in the hospital wing.
Professor Veralong chuckled and Luna smiled.
"Now," said Veralong, his tone turning serious, "Luna, before we proceed, let's fill Harry in on the matter, shall we?"
Luna turned to Harry. "As you know, I was the one who found him and brought him here."
Harry nodded.
"The thing is, I didn't find him. Not exactly. He was brought to me by the kitsunes of the Hokkaido's Largest kitsune den."
The last few words were totally alien to Harry.
"Kitsunes are like our centaurs, Harry," Veralong explained, "An ancient and powerful race of magical foxes endemic to East Asia. They have the ability to shapeshift and are known to cause all sorts of calamities."
"They're very…let's say…wary of wizards and witches," Luna added, "And the wizarding community in Japan are very wary of them. They have had quite a tempestuous history with each other. The kitsune have their own brand of magic, their own histories and their own culture. But, very little is known about them except the things we hear in stories. We know they are rather fond of muggles and dislike wizards and witches. Most likely because muggles are more susceptible to their mischief."
Harry nodded. "So, why did these kitsunes bring him to you? How did he end up with them in the first place?"
"Did you notice the marks on Nat's face?" Luna asked.
Harry nodded.
"It is said that a person who had been or are being possessed by a kitsune will bear some form of mark. Commonly kitsunes can't hide their tails. Rarely mentioned are the whisker marks on the cheeks."
"So, it's a sign of possession?" Harry asked, surprised, "Was the boy possessed?"
"The Hokkaido kitsune den swears that he had not been possessed," said Luna, looking pensive, "But the marks do say otherwise. They did tell me that the boy is connected to kitsunes. That he has an aura about him that is kitsune, whatever that means. But the nature of the connection…well, either they did not want to tell me or they had no idea themselves."
"What does all of that mean?"
Luna smiled, shrugged, and answered, "I have no idea."
"Do they know what happened to him at all?"
"No. They found him battered and unconscious on the shores in Hokkaido. They nursed him back to health and brought me to him. In exchange for taking care of him, they allowed me access to the den."
"This, you must understand, Harry, is an unheard of event," Veralong added, "Nothing on the magnitude of the Hidden Continent letters, but still a rare event. Kitsunes are notoriously reclusive. Not many wizards or witches has gone into a den uninvited and those who do so, return without their wits, if they return at all. "
"That's a lot of singular events coming from Japan lately," observed Harry. He wasn't sure if there was connection between the two events. Nat had been found more than eight months before the first letter arrived. "But why you, Luna? Why not someone from the Japanese community? Wouldn't it be better for Nat to remain in Japanese custody?"
"I think the kitsunes predicted that no one would want him, which is why they turned him over to Rolf and me. We were just conveniently non-Japanese, I suppose," said Luna, "And no one wanted him. I tried, Harry, to leave him with someone in Japan. No school, no organization, no one, wanted him after hearing his story and seeing the marks on his face. It was ridiculous! Everyone was being—" She cut off suddenly, realizing that her words were becoming faster and impassioned. Her usually languid eyes flashed with frustration. She took in a short breath, let it go and continued, "Being nursed by kitsunes. Possessing those marks on his cheeks. People said that he would invite disaster in their lives if they allowed him to stay with them. What was worse was this group called the Brotherhood of the Sage. They kept telling everyone that Nat was possessed and should not be invited into the community, yet they kept trying to get custody of him. The kitsunes were not happy about that. They really did not like the Brotherhood. I couldn't trust the Brotherhood either after how terrible they were to him."
Harry frowned. No community of was free of prejudices, he supposed.
"The boy is so very sweet," Luna said, with a sigh, "He didn't deserve any of that. There, he understood everything everyone said about him. But he smiled through it all. I can't imagine how terrible it was for him, to wake up knowing nothing, not even his own name, and be discriminated against immediately. I couldn't just leave him behind like that. So I brought him to the only place I could think of."
Harry nodded. "Hogwarts."
"I've been paying for part of his tuition and fees," said Luna.
"That's generous of you."
Luna shook her head. "Not so much. He's the reason I was able to access the Hokkaido Den when more distinguished Japanese magizoologist were denied. It's an amazing opportunity. We owe him a lot."
"Hogwarts has a fund for orphans," said Veralong, nodding, "We can keep him here. And he's a great help to Hagrid."
"But have you noticed that…" Harry started, brows knitted with concern, "Nat doesn't look Japanese. He looks—"
"Caucasian," said Luna, nodding, "Yes. But he speaks native Japanese and not a single word of any western language."
"It is baffling," Veralong added.
"He could not have been raised in the west—it had to be Japan," said Luna, "But no orphanages knew of him. I would think a blond boy with blue eyes would be memorable in an orphanage there."
"That is odd," Harry admitted, "Luna, did Nat show any sign of strange, instinctive magic?"
Luna shook his head. "We only knew he was magical because the kitsunes told us. And because he could see thestrals." She paused, thinking. "He runs very fast. He was hopping about tree branches one time, too, very effortlessly. But he's also very energetic and athletic, so I never thought too much about it."
"He was standing on water," Harry said, "You must have heard? About the incident in Defense class?"
Luna grinned. "How could I not? Nat told me all about it. He re-enacted the entire thing with the proper sound effects when I visited him in the hospital wing. He's very good at that."
Harry could not suppress a chuckle. "I don't doubt that."
"But he also did not get a single scratch on him," Veralong added, "Which I am grateful for, truly. Nonetheless, it does pose many questions."
"Is it something we should be worried about?" Luna asked Harry.
Harry released a soft sigh. He was definitely curious about the boy, but with the impending course of history changing event ahead of him, he had little energy left to spare for this mystery. He wasn't going to let go of the Japanese connection, but for now the boy was the farthest thing away from a threat of any kind. He trusted the Headmaster and Luna would do the best for the boy.
"I am not sure," said Harry, "It doesn't hurt to be cautious. Unless his spells keep backfiring as violently as they do. Perhaps you should keep him from practicing wand magic with the other students, just in until he can work out his magic control issues. Perhaps Flitwick has some ideas. Other than that, I am afraid I can't be of much help."
"I will take your recommendation, Harry," said the Headmaster.
"Harry," said Luna, "I came here to discuss with the Headmaster if Rolf and I should take partial custody of him or if he should be a full ward of Hogwarts." She paused, peering at Harry expectantly: "What do you think?"
Harry was surprised that Luna would want his opinion. He'd only known the boy for two days. Sensing his hesitation, Veralong added, "From one orphan to another."
Harry smiled, humorlessly. "Well, when I was here, I never wanted to go back to the Dursleys. But the boy doesn't even have that to go back to, does he?"
"He's welcomed at our house," said Luna, "The boys adore him. I am thinking about taking him with us on our research trip this summer. We may go back to Hokkaido. But to do that, it would be safer and more legally sound if we had some authority until he comes of age."
"That would have thrilled me as a teenager," said Harry, laughing softly. He remembered that short period of absolute happiness when he thought Sirius would finally be able to take him away from the Dursleys. "You should do it. It'll give him a sense of family. And belonging."
"That's what I was thinking too," agreed Luna, beaming at Harry.
"I'll have the papers drawn up for the partial custody with Hogwarts," said Veralong, beaming at the both of them.
"Thank you, professor," said Luna, getting up, "I should be going now. I'll see you both tomorrow morning. You're still teaching, right, Harry?"
"So far," Harry muttered, with a soft laugh. As long as nothing else disastrous happens, he thought to himself.
The next morning, the school was buzzing with the news that the new kid Nat had messed up his disarming spell, nearly knocked out Harry Potter, and fell into the lake from Hogwarts. However, what made the biggest news was seeing Nat himself running around Great Hall and the Hogwarts ground the next day as if nothing had happened.
Al was surprised to say the least, and even more surprised when his father told his siblings, cousins and him that it was due to 'instinctive magic'. Could people survive falls like that with instinctual magic? Al was no expert in magic, but didn't Nat's case seem a bit more odd than just 'instinctive magic'?
Al liked the boy a lot. He was all smiles and energy, so much so Al felt exhausted just watching him. He was glad they were not in the same house or that sense of exhaustion would never end. Take, for example, after all that happened, Nat still had the energy to go out to the quidditch pitch to fool around with the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teams while they were practicing. Gerry was right—if things went they way they did, Nat would be a shoe-in for the Beater position next year.
In the evening, when the air had cooled, Al stole away from the castle to take a solitary stroll around the grounds and the edge of the forest. He usually liked to visit Hagrid, although he usually did so with family or a friend. When Nat came they often kept him company, taught him more English and sometimes helped him finish his chores.
Al remembered very vividly the first time he met Nat. It was at the start of the school year in September last year, when Hagrid introduced to them a blond teenager who, at that time, could barely speak English. The English he did know was a hilarious imitation of Hagrid's accent and vernacular, and coupled with the Japanese accent, became the center of jokes for awhile. Even then, Al noticed right away Nat's intoxicating cheerfulness, his sunny grins and the aura of ease and friendliness about him. It was hard to dislike him, especially after finding out about his condition. Even when they brooded over his unfortunate situation, Nat would turn the conversation about the good things that happened anyway despite it all. He was sure Nat's cheerfulness was genuine, but he was also convinced there was something more going on beneath those smiles. Sometimes Al felt sad just thinking about all the things Nat would have to feel sad about. It made him sadder knowing Nat tried his hardest to not let it all get him down.
"Hey, Potter."
Al looked up at the familiar voice, and his lips broke into a playful smirk as replied with a "Malfoy."
Scorpius Malfoy was along standing with a few of Slytherin housemates by the lake, and they seemed to be having a stone skipping competition. Not exactly the muggle kind, as they kept using magic to keep the stone skipping longer than it should have been.
"Out for a walk, are you?" said Scorpius, his wand still up and controlling his stone, which not only hopped around but attempted to knock other stones out of the air and into the water.
"Visiting Hagrid," answered Al with a shrug, "I can see you're having fun."
"Oi, Malfoy…" The brunette Slytherin, Dorian Zabini, threw Scorpius an irritated glare when his rock was knocked down. He glanced at Al and greeted him with a cursory nod and muttered, 'Potter'. The other two Slytherins greeted him as well in varying degrees of friendliness.
Al and Scorpius were friends, best friends, in fact, despite all the whispers and family history. Uncle Ron was quite vocal about the Malfoys, and his dad had not disagreed, but Al liked Malfoy—whatever his father was, Scorpius was not. He was the opposite; he was sure Scorpius' optimism and bright attitude was only second to Nat's in his eyes. That was only because Nat was so bright and charismatic that he was almost a caricature of himself.
"Hang on," said Scorpius, ending the charm on his rock, "I'll join you."
"This means you forfeit, Scorp," teased Gregory Greengrass, "Owe us butterbeer next Hogsmeade trip…"
Scorpius rolled his eyes at his cousin, muttered a "Yeah yeah…" and waved them goodbye.
"You're going to see Nat?" asked Scorpius when they left the group.
"Yeah, I suppose," muttered Al, "He seemed okay enough this morning but with all the attention I haven't been able to talk to him. Crazy what happened, right?"
"It was mad," agreed Scorpius, a small grin on his face, "Gave your father quite the scare, didn't he?"
"Instinctive magic, according to dad," said Al with a shrug, "Can you believe that?"
"If Head of the Aurors say so, then it must be," Scorpius stated wisely, "Who are you to doubt, little Potter?"
The two of them set off in the general direction towards Hagrid's hut, sharing the week's notable incidences amongst the four houses, exchanging information about work and professors, and lamenting that last week's Hogsmeade trip was disappointing because Honeydukes ran out of sugar quills needed to survive long hours in History of Magic. They threw around some ridiculous theories about the Japanese Hidden continents and joked that maybe Nat was from there. Scorpius shared a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean — Gourmand Edition — with Al. Instead of dirt and boogers, they were hit with instances of escargot in butter, fried goat liver, fresh durian, saukerkraut, salmon sashimi, and other particular food flavors.
"I kinda miss the dirt," Al said at once point. He had just forced himself to swallow what the box claimed was pickled pork intestines.
They were some way to Hagrid's hut when, on the edge of the forest, they spotted Nat, doing something they could not quite figure out.
When they got closer they noticed he was holding a bag with pieces of raw meat in his hands, and he was talking to someone, although Scorpius and Al didn't see anyone.
"You sure he came off completely unscathed?" asked Scorpius with light sarcasm, "Perhaps hit his head harder than we thought."
"Or there's an actual explanation to it," said Al as they started walking towards the blond.
"Like what?"
"Let's ask—hey Nat!"
The blond boy turned at his name, spotted them and waved.
"What are you up to, mate?" asked Scorpius amiably, looking at the bag of meat, "Dinner?"
"Feeding," Nat replied, nodding. Al suppressed a small snort at Nat's misunderstanding of Scorpius's jab. Nat pointed at an empty spot, "Hungry. Hagrid said work is good to distract." Scorpius' brows rose, but he said nothing.
"Harsh," said Al, enjoying Scorpius' confusion. "Making you work after all you've been through?"
Nat shrugged, "I'm feel very very good, so I work."
"Very diligent, admirable," said Scorpius with an approving nod, trying his hardest to not look completely stupid, "So, uh, what are you feeding?"
Nat had just thrown a piece of meat just as Scorpius asked. The meat looked was caught in mid air and disappeared.
"Whoa…" Scorpius muttered, "What just happened?"
"Thestrals," said Nat, casually, "Can't see?"
Scorpius's face dawned with realization and he shook his head. He looked at Al, who gave him an knowing look.
"You can see," Scorpius stated quietly, "That means…"
Nat nodded tersely. The boys were used to his exuberance, his energetic efforts at English, and his love for running headlong into anything he deemed looked fun. Al many time had regretted letting his brother loose on Nat, who swooped him up in his many pranks and schemes. He had to admit their extraversion complimented each other well. So now, Al found it odd and worrisome to see Nat so muted.
The boys watched him for several moments as he continued feeding the invisible thestrals in silence.
After a few a while, Scorpius asked, "Nat…who…uh…was it that died?" He glimpsed Al giving him an odd glance from the corner of his eyes. Tactless, Al communicated with his eyes.
"He has amnesia, remember?" said Al before Nat could reply.
"So you can see thestrals even without knowing you saw someone die?" said Scorpius, looking amazed, "I thought it took actual knowledge of the death."
"Guess not," said Al, stealing a glance at Nat, who seemed slightly uncomfortable, but was hiding it by focusing on his task.
"Perhaps that's an incentive not to regain your memories…" said Scorpius thoughtfully.
Nat looked up, looking alarmed. There was a glint of longing in his blue eyes, a forlornness Al had always suspected, which was immediately pushed back when a large, sunny grin replaced the expression of surprise.
"What are you talking about, Scorp… I'm sure Nat wants his memory back…right?"
"Yeah!" Nat agreed excitedly, "I want to know a lot of things. I want to know real name, name mum gave me. I want to know my family, and if I have brothers and sisters and friends! And…" He trailed off.
"And?" prompted Scorpius.
"If they look for me?" said Nat rather uncertainly, "But…scary, a little…"
Al frowned, "Why?"
"I think I see thestrals because…they…all…" Nat didn't need to continue, Al and Scorpius understood. Nat looked mournfully thoughtful as he threw the last of the meat into the air and something invisible caught it. He looked at Al and Scorpius and smiled sadly.
"I…I want to know," he said, sounding more confident than before, "I think better, right? To remember than not remember, even if it's bad."
"Yeah," Al muttered quietly, not know what else to say.
"You know there are ways to try to extract your memories," said Scorpius.
Nat shrugged, looking rather unenthusiastic, "Hagrid say better natural than with magic."
"I do agree with that," muttered Scorpius, nodding, "You never know what could go wrong when trying to extract memories."
Nat only smiled and continued in a heavy voice, "I feel memory, my memories are not good. I like here at Hogwarts, with Hagrid so maybe better I don't remember... I don't know…"
He crumpled up the plastic bag and pocketed, and extended his hands to pet an invisible thestral. Al and Scorpius watched on in uncomfortable silence, not quite knowing how to respond to or comfort Nat anymore. It was odd not to see him like he was perpetually under the influence cheering charms.
"Sometimes I have dream…" he muttered.
"'Bout what?" Al asked.
"Giant frogs. And fox. Giant fox. With tails. Many tails."
"That is strange…" Scorpius returned somewhat awkwardly, "But dreams are just strange. Just the other day I had a dream about being chase by giant chocolate flavored cauldron cake. It spewed melted chocolate at me."
Nat's reaction was muted. Scorpius' odd dream failed to dispel any awkwardness, so he offered Nat Bertie Bott's every flavor jellybeans.
Nat made a face. "James gave me, I eat — soap bean. Ugh."
"Oi, that sounds so much better than pork intestines," Al muttered.
They were interrupted when Hagrid arrived on the scene to check on Nat. The giant happily greeted Al and Scorpius, and ushered the both of them back to Hogwarts for dinner.
"An' you, boy," he said to Nat. Al noticed Hagrid's voice was gentle, even careful, "C'mon, wash up and get dinner too. Veralong wants to see you afterwards."
"Pixie Poppycock."
Nat waited, hoping that he had remembered the password correctly.
Moments later the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office sprung aside, startling him. This wasn't the first time he's ever visited the office, but it never failed to surprise him when the lifeless statue moved so smoothly and suddenly. He climbed up the stairwell as it appeared, and stepped into the entrance corridor, coming face to face with double polished oak doors. He walked to the door, hesitating just so slightly before turning the doorknob, the memory of the last exchange with the Headmaster creeping into his mind. Not the meeting in the hospital after his fall in the lake, but an awkward and unnerving meeting about his memory "problem".
The headmaster's approach had been a little different from Hagrid's and the others. He had cast a translation spell on him, made lists of pros and cons about using certain magical means to flush out suppressed memories and had pushed Nat to try one of the magical methods. If Hagrid, Rose and Al didn't tell him constantly how it could seriously affect him, he would have agreed to use one of the methods already.
After taking in a deep breath, he opened the door and entered into the office to find it empty, at least as far as he could see. Relieved, he stared around for a few seconds before he decided he was bored, and started to walk around the room to explore the trinkets, scrolls, books and portraits of sleeping past Headmasters. The room was spacious, and the decorations consisted of many posters of both muggle and magical musical bands, gleaming instruments on golden stands, books upon books on subjects Nat didn't understand, strangely familiar odd instruments, odd mirrors, and other general eccentric items he didn't know how to describe.
He came to a small, metal table with intricate curly cues in its leg design, and peered curiously into the bowl of what looked like little toad-shaped candy. Taking a furtive glance to his side, he took one toad and popped it into his mouth. The candy was cool and minty, and after deciding he liked it, he popped several more in his mouth, wondering why these people liked making candies shaped like toads and frogs. Well, at least these didn't try to escape, he thought. These were safe and non magical—at least they were until, some seconds later, he felt something move in his stomach. He looked down at his stomach, eyebrows knitted in confusion. The movement wasn't just churning of his stomach juices or loud digestion; something had moved and hit his stomach wall.
Was it the candy? He felt it again, but this time he felt several jump, and he thought he heard a ribbit. It was definitely the candy. He looked into the bowl of the candy suspiciously, and jumped himself when he felt more jumping from inside. Clutching his belly, he swore loudly in Japanese.
"Peppermint toads," a smooth voice said, sounding amused, "I must say that was my reaction to it when I first had them. Although my language was probably not as vivid as yours." Nat looked up and around wildly, trying to find the speaker. His eyes finally fell on a grand portrait of a man with an epic, long white beard and half moon spectacles. The portrait smiled at him and continued, "And people wonder why I liked muggle sweets."
Nat recognized the portrait. "Dumberdoor!"
He heard some snickering from the other portraits, and the portrait Dumbledore smiled serenely. Nat didn't know what was so amusing.
"Why hello Nat, is it?" said Dumbledore kindly, "I've heard quite a lot about you, although I suppose most of Hogwarts have."
Nat eyed the portrait suspiciously, "You watching me?"
"Well," Dumbledore began, blue eyes beaming, "Sometimes, as a former Headmaster, I do my part watching over the school."
Nat hiccupped a little when he felt stomach gave one big final jump and become motionless. He glanced at his stomach and then edged away from the candy bowl.
"So you're the boy from Japan," a new voice joined the conversation. The voice sounded cold, low and surly. Nat searched the room for the portrait and found a rather disagreeable one with a skinny sallow man with a hooked nose and hair that was too shiny to be healthy. Nat made a face at him—he didn't like his tone—a condescending tone, a voice without warmth—it cut into his consciousness and a wave of feelings that were both strange and painfully familiar gushed out of the mental rip. He forced in a breath to get rid of the anxiety that was building in his stomach, shook his head and looked up at the portrait again.
"Who you?" he asked.
The portrait of the man just look down with him with cold eyes, blinked and then said, "Severus Snape. Headmaster, former."
"Have no place here if you ask me," a deep man's voice boomed out from nowhere, and then a flitter of agreement and disagreement. The portrait Snape looked merely annoyed.
Just then the door swung open and Veralong stepped in. The portrait all hushed, and Dumbledore smiled and nodded at Veralong. The latter returned the gesture.
"Nat," said Veralong, beaming at the boy, "Sorry I'm late. Terribly sorry. I hope the former Headmasters and Headmistresses kept you reasonably entertained."
Nat shrugged.
"Sit, sit," said Veralong as he took his own seat, "I have much to talk about with you."
Nat took the visitor seat, his face blank. He glanced up at the Dumbledore portrait, then quickly back at Veralong.
"Candy?" Veralong offered, summoning the bowl of peppermint toads into the hand. Nat made a face and shook his head.
"Well, you certainly had quite an eventful week, haven't you?" said Veralong, setting the bowl aside, "You nearly gave the head of the Aurors quite a fright."
Nat smiled guiltily at this.
"I am still baffled by what happened Nat," said Veralong, smiling serenely at him, "When you messed up the reducto spell a couple of weeks ago, you hardly made a dent in the wall. Why would a spell that requires less explosive magic mess up to such a degree?"
Nat looked confused. "Uh…say slower?"
"Ah, right, let's get rid of the handicap, shall we…" said Veralong, pointing the wand at Nat, "Interpretari Anglicus." Nat felt the familiar wave of cold that went down his spine.
"Are we good?" asked Veralong, and Nat nodded when he understood what the headmaster had said without the usual lag time of mentally translating known English to Japanese.
"Good," Veralong nodded, "As I was saying, why a spell that requires less explosive magic would mess up to such a degree?"
Nat shrugged, "I don't know. Accident?"
"Is it?" the Headmaster muttered, "Perform the spell on me."
"What?" Nat exclaimed, looking at the headmaster in disbelief.
"Perform the spell on me."
Nat eyed the headmaster suspiciously, and said slowly, "But I might hurt you…"
"Oh, I'm much tougher than I look, Nat," said Veralong, "Believe me. Go ahead; you did get your wand back, didn't you?"
Nat nodded as he fished out his wand, which had been found floating in the middle of the lake after the incident. He looked at the headmaster again and gave him a 'you sure?' expression. When the only answer from Veralong was a cryptic smile, he slowly raised his wand, and said the spell as best he could. By the way his wand jerked and he felt a sting in his hand, he knew he had messed up the spell again, yet the wand in Veralong's only gave a little shake.
"Very interesting," murmured Veralong, his gray eyes sparkling with excitement, "Nothing happened. Yet, I can bet you my job Nat, that if you even try to perform a cheering charm on Harry Potter, you would probably end up either breaking his back or make him unbearably happy for days on end with just one charm, providing you did it right, of course."
Nat blinked. "What? I don't understand…"
"Your magic reacts oddly to Harry Potter, Nat."
He frowned, "Why? Potter-sensei…?"
"Because Harry Potter's soul has been touched by death," answered Veralong with most amused grin, "He has died once. And you, Nat, have a unique…special…magic that reacted to that fact."
Nat's frown grew deeper. "What are you talking about? Potter-sensei died once? Special magic? Don't understand."
"Neither do I," agreed Veralong promptly, "Not as much as I would like. Nat, have you been still having your dreams?"
Nat, unhappy with the change in conversation, merely nodded.
"More dying people? More foxes? More toads?"
He nodded.
"Those dying people, Nat, are they always the same people?"
A grim nod.
"Who were they, Nat?"
"I don't know," Nat growled angrily, "I told you before…I…don't…" The images flashed into his head—people he recognized because he had seen them so many times in his dreams—no, he did not want think about it.
"Don't you want to know?"
"No…" But yes, he did want to know. He wanted to know if he had friends, brothers or sisters that were looking for him. He wanted to know if he was loved, and hoped the fleeting feeling of fear and loneliness, of the achingly old and familiar pains, was just a product of his amnesia.
"But you do."
He looked up, incensed, but before he could say anything, Veralong had taken out a small flask from his robe pockets and placed it on the table. The liquid in the flask was a silver color, and it shone beautifully in the fire light. Nat looked up at Dumbledore, who had the same encouraging smile.
"A Memory Potion," said Veralong, "Safest method. It is supposed to help you weaken mental blocks in your memory…slowly…it doesn't force anything."
"But…" Nat began, "Magic is not…"
"It is not magic, really," Veralong said patiently. The boy looked unconvinced.
"You did a job on Harry Potter, Nat, and he is an experienced, excellent Auror. Imagine if the same thing happened with a student. Don't you think it would be beneficial to everyone if you remembered your past?"
"But you said it was because Harry Potter died once…so maybe…"
"Ah, it was just a conjecture. I might be wrong and I probably am. But we won't know until you know. And until you know, you are putting your friend's lives in danger. Are you willing to risk the lives of friends in this way?"
Nat shook his head, looking a little pale. "But…"
"Because, if I deem you dangerous, I can expel you."
Nat nearly jumped out of his seat, and his heart pounded nervously in his chest: "No! You can't do that!" This man wasn't threatening to take everything and everyone he knew in the world away from him was he? No…no Veralong wasn't this cold, because Professor Veralong would understand that Nat had no one, nothing but Hogwarts, no one but Hagrid, no friends, nothing without this place. Veralong understand this, he was sure, would never do this.
Veralong's eyes twinkled, "Oh but I can. I am headmaster. My job requires me to protect the students—if you are a danger to them, Nat, I can and will expel you. You destroyed a classroom, and injured Harry Potter while disrupting the entire school; I need a guarantee something like that won't happen again."
Nat's stomach turned cold, and he started perspiring. Vera-sensei really was going to kick him out…really going kick him out and make him homeless, alone…lost, no name again. "But…it didn't happen before I learned that spell from Harry Potter?"
"No, but that doesn't mean it won't happen again. Who knows when you'll send James or Al flying through the walls, or even Hagrid?"
"But…I don't want to hurt…"
"And there is only one way to make sure you don't, Nat, and you know what it is."
Nat's blue eyes fell on the bottle. He swallowed, his throat hot, and lowered his head. The Headmaster on the wall—Dumberdoor—had told him not to let anything pressure him. Nat understood this now, but he also understood Professor Veralong too. What if he had hurt someone? What if things with Potter-sensei had gone wrong and he seriously injured the famous wizard and father of his friends? They would hate him. Everyone would hate him. Even Luna would look at him with cold eyes.
"There is another thing," said Veralong, "Luna asked to get partial custody of you."
Nat perked up at Luna's name. A bright smile bounced back onto his face. "Really?"
"Yes, but I accepted on the condition we do something about your memory."
Nat's smile crumpled. "Hey, Professor…why are you so interested in me getting my memories back?"
Veralong's brows knitted together. His eyes took on a melancholy shadow. "I am afraid, Nat, that if you don't get your memories back, Hogwarts will be in trouble. And people, the people you love, your friends, Hagrid, everyone, will be in danger."
Harry stared at Veralong in disbelief. "But why?"
"Something is coming for all us, Nat. Something bad, and only you can stop it."
"I don't understand! Why me? What did I ever do?"
"I don't know everything either. All I can see is that if you remain Nat, and do not find yourself again, everything will become obsolete. You must remember who you are. Remember your convictions and stop running away."
Nat frowned. "I don't get it!"
"I'm sorry, that's all I know at this point."
"You don't make any sense, Professor!"
"Perhaps. Which is why I will leave you to decide your own fate," was the last thing Veralong said before dismissing him.
For Harry Potter, the day after the event paralleled Nat's with inquiries from curious students and nosy teachers. He was able to go through his class smoothly, with only a few questions about Nat, requests to learn the disarming spell (and promises of not messing it up as badly as Nat), and more about the Japanese Hidden Continents.
When eight o' clock came around in the evening, he found himself in Slughorn's office for dinner. He was glad to find an excuse to not to eat in the Great Hall. The other professors were still trying to pry more information about of him about the Hidden Continents. They were as bad as the students.
Whatever Slughorn wanted to show or tell him didn't come up during the course of the dinner. The professor made small talk about the fate of the graduated members of the Slug Club, about Ginny and her column, Hermione and her job in the ministry, Ron and the joke shop, and state of the Auror Department. Around dessert time, just as Harry started digging into a warm treacle tart, Slughorn finally decided to turn the conversation to the Japanese Hidden Continents. Harry wanted to groan and rub his eyes, but only shoved a spoonful of pie into his mouth.
"You know, in my youth, I had a short fascination with the subject," Slughorn admitted with a sentimental smile, "The thought of an entire country of all witches and wizards—with the revelation of controlled wandless magic, well…that was exciting…I had read up on all the theories, even the ridiculous one. I quite remember The Quibbler had an interesting column back in the days about the search for the elusive Continent, but dropped around the time of You-Know—er…Voldemort's—first reign."
Harry could imagine the Quibbler taking an interesting in the subject, and smiled at the thought of Hermione describing those who were interested as "hobbyists and people who believed in the existence of nargles." Harry never took Slughorn to be an enthusiast of that sort.
"Yes," Slughorn went on with a nostalgic sigh, "I was interested in many things of course, and this was just one of those elusive, exciting subjects. In my travels I did stop by Japan several times hoping to know more. Since then…I had been busy. This recent affair has…brought my interest back, Harry."
"You and the rest of the world, professor," Harry replied with a small laugh.
"I'm sure you know all mystery and myths and such surrounding the Continents," Slughorn said, looking at Harry expectantly.
"A little bit," Harry answered, grinning, "Especially with Hermione around."
"Which one exactly, if you don't mind me asking," Slughorn asked, eyes gleaming with curious excitement, "There are hundreds of theories abound…of course…"
"Well, I don't know about theories," said Harry slowly, "But, the Continents have been isolated for thousands of years, though we supposedly did have one contact 100 years ago."
"There are a lot of arguments on this, but there are always arguments…but yes…why did they isolate themselves at all? That is the main question for all who are interested in the Continent. Can you think of a reason why, Harry?"
"No sir, not really…" said Harry, shaking his head. He was not interested so much in theorizing.
"Hm, well I'll tell you what I think, Harry. I think they isolated themselves to protect us."
Harry only stared at Slughorn, not quite understanding what he meant. Slughorn seemed satisfied by his confusion. The man went on, "Odd isn't it? We always thought because they were paranoid and xenophobic, but applying the historical attitude of later generation of the Japanese during the 19th century to them is a flawed association."
"Protect us from what, exactly?"
"As we have our Merlin, they have someone…called…the Sage, Harry. Now, there are disputes among scholars and enthusiasts about what he was actually called, but I like to go with the Sage, or Sage of the Six Paths. In Japanese, the Rikudo Sennin. We don't know his real name, and some even doubt that he was real, and there have been suggestions made that he is a combination of many different people condensed into one legend. I believe he was quite real. There are records within Chinese historical sources that claimed that the Sage at once point visited the Japanese Archipelago, way before it was even Japan, of course. It is believed that he was the one who cast the barrier spell so powerful no one, on our side or theirs, can easily penetrate it. Doesn't mean there haven't been instances or attempts…with disastrous results…
"From the early writings, it seems in Ancient Japan, both magical and muggle Japanese were embroiled in war and violence with people of Hidden Continent. There was description of something else quite interesting—that of a destructive force so powerful hundreds of acres of land were leveled within in minutes. This level of violence is much more than what muggle weaponry at the time was capably of, so it was decided that this destructive force had a magical source, which we have no clue about at all. The ancient Chinese called it the Land of the God Tree. Curious name, don't you think? Certainly alludes to a divinely powerful force. "
"A weapon?" said Harry, concerned, "A destructive magical weapon?" He thought of the Elder Wand.
Slughorn looked far too happy at this point: "A mass of magical energy. With identity and a will."
"That would make it living," Harry murmured, frowning, "A creature?"
"A demon, Harry. And nothing like the demons we are used to. Grindylows, as you know Harry, annoying little things, are considered demons by us. However, the demon I am talking about is on a different level. It is unique, powerful and unheard of in our world, which if why some wizards deny its existence and claim the theory as false. We do have a hard time accepting what we can't comprehend."
"And this demon is what they wanted to protect us from?"
"Yes. And they did. It seems they couldn't destroy the demon, for how can you destroy energy? It goes against nature. But you can transform it, you can contain it, and that it what this Sage have been claimed to do. He trapped the demon, though we are not sure where or exactly how. Details become scarce around this part. He wanted his people to take part in guarding the powers of this demon, and thus he closed off the continent from the world."
"So you're saying the whole point of this continent, its people, and the isolation was to keep this demon forever trapped and not wreaking havoc on the world." Harry paused to let this sink in. It was an interesting notion, he had to admit, but of all the things they knew of the Continent—like the fact that they were in constant warfare, that they had countries that never seemed to get along—didn't quite match up. Wouldn't having constant inner conflict between people who were supposed to guard the demon be potentially dangerous? What if someone decided to release the demon? What were the wars about in the first place? Why and how did they contact the outside world when there was an impenetrable barrier?
"This is all pure speculation based on a few artifacts, historical records and legends…so take this all with a grain of salt, Harry."
Harry nodded, and asked, "What do you know of the contact 100 years ago, professor?"
"Well, what do you know about it Harry? Let's start with that."
Harry sighed, trying collect his thoughts, and said, "I know that there were three people: two men and a woman. They were all injured, one of them gravely so to the point of death. It seems they were in a battle of some sorts. They grabbed the dying man somehow went back through the barrier. We learned very little in the encounter, but at the time interest in the Continent surged."
"It was less than 100 years Harry, if you would allow me to nitpick. My father was there, you see…and that's what I wanted to show you…"
Harry looked puzzled and curious when the professor got out of his seat and walked over a small, gilded trunk that sat on the shelf behind his desk. Harry saw he took out something rectangular with a silver silk wrap, and roll of crisp looking scroll. Slughorn held the wrapped object delicately in his hands as he set them gently on the table. Without saying anything, he started to unwrap the object, revealing a red-silver, rectangular metal object. It was heavily oxidized and discolored, but through the red rust and gray-bluish patina, Harry guessed it was once a gleaming silver color. It was worn and heavily scratched, and there was several deep gashes on its surface. What interested Harry the most was the insignia carved in to the middle of the rectangle: a perfectly circular swirl with a triangle on one end, and a small line on the other end. If Harry squinted, he thought it looked like a stylized drawing of a leaf.
"And this is…?"
"My father was one of the healers that took care of the dying man, Harry, and this was taken from his forehead. He wore it as some sort of headband."
"The scroll?"
"Some notes made by him of the encounter…"
Harry frowned, deep in thought. He looked up at Slughorn and said, "Professor, I was thinking…you know that they were in constant warfare, right? Doesn't that defeat the purpose of being the guardians of the great demon? Why would they be fighting amongst themselves?"
"Well use your imagination Harry! They may be guardians, but they are humans after all, and you know what humans are capable of."
Harry nodded. He could accept that.
"Take them, Harry," said Slughorn, "It will be useful to the ministry. I've kept it as part of my personal collection. Only the most enthusiastic scholars have examined them. However, the main reason I called you here was to tell you this: be careful."
Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"
"If they contacted the outside world, there are probably two reasons why: One, something is wrong in their world, something to do with that demon. If that is the case, this world is in grave danger. Two, if that isn't the case, then there is something suspicious going on, Harry. Remember, the Sage closed off the Continent for a good reason, and to reopen it would need an even greater reason, or perhaps, a malicious one."
Updated Commentary:
1) Even the love of Naruto's life, Ramen-chan, can't make him remember anything. (*Passive aggressive rant* Because obviously, Naruto can't tell the difference between loving food and loving a person, right? Right? If he can't tell the difference, the true love his life is definitely Ramen-chan, not Hinata. NaruRamen 4eva! Ramen-chan has been there since the beginning, even before Iruka-sensei!)
2) In the original plan, this story existed in a crossover universe that had Luna more in the know about the Continent to explain why she had gone to Japan just in time to find Naruto. I had written this short little thing on Luna accidentally meeting the Rikudo Sennin while she is studying the kitsune in Japan, but I'm not going to do that anymore. This story is fully self-contained. No more universe expansion. This means Luna is just as clueless as everyone else now and fully intends to adopt Nat/Naruto because she is awesome sauce.