Chapter VI
In Which: Kakashi Learns to Socialize

The wizards, it seemed, applied the same rules to their feasts as Minato-sensei did to ramen. That was to say: as much and as varied a selection as possible in the shortest amount of time. With all this food and the rate at which it was being consumed, Kakashi half-suspected that the students would have to be rolled out of the Hall at the end of the night.

"So, Kakachi, was it?" The Weasley boy from the entrance hall was sitting next to Potter, and he appeared to be addressing Kakashi- or well, attempting to address him through a mouthful of food.

"No," Kakashi said. "It was 'Kakashi'. Or Hatake, if you prefer."

The boy looked perplexed. "'Dat's wha' I shaid, righ'?"

"Honestly, Ronald." This was the girl, the one with bushy brown hair.

Kakashi thought back to the Sorting. The Deputy Headmistress had called her Hermione Granger, if he was remembering correctly.

"You're not pronouncing it correctly," she continued primly. "You need to enunciate each syllable as a separate two- or three- letter sound, consisting of one consonant sound and on vowel: ka-ka-shi. The Japanese have three systems of writing, in which two are syllabic and the last is ideographic..."

Kakashi tuned her out, and it was fairly obvious to him that Ron had stopped listening as well.

The food perplexed him; there were all sorts of odd dishes, and most of them he had never seen before in his life. The utensils at his plate had been replaced with a pair of wooden chopsticks as opposed to the metal spoons and forks the other Gryffindors were eating with. The invisible servants of the castle were rather more thoughtful than its inhabitants, it seemed.

He was on the end of the table. The Granger girl with the bushy hair was next to him, chattering away, and beyond her, the Weasley boy. Across from where he sat, Harry Potter sat with another red-haired student, this one much older.

"Turnip pasty, Kakashi?"

"I don't think I've ever seen anything so revolting in my life," Kakashi said honestly. Even Minato-sensei's more interesting ramen concoctions had stopped short of the complete inedibility of these purplish cakes. Kakashi decided he wouldn't ever eat turnips again- not if he could help it.

Hermione took pity on him and passed him a bowl of brown beef stew. It was odd, but reasonable enough, and he could eat with chopsticks if he was careful.

"Thanks," he said in relief.

"Yeah!" Ron agreed, apparently oblivious. "So, what's it like in- where're you from, again?"

"It's Japan."

Hermione joined in, looking interested. "Are you enrolled at Mahoutokoro, then? I've heard it's very prestigious."

"No, not quite," Kakashi said with a wince.

"I hadn't heard of any other magical schools in Japan," she said curiously.

Kakashi smiled. "Well, my school has an alternate name. Konohagakure no Sato. It literally means 'the village that is hidden amongst the tree leaves.' While it goes by 'Konoha Academy of Magical Discipline' it has always been known as the Hidden Academy." He pointed at his headband. "Hence the leaf symbol."

"'Hwy's 'at ovrin' yeri?"

Kakashi and Hermione both stared at him, uncomprehending.

Ron swallowed. "Why's that- the headband, you know- covering your eye?"

"Ron!" Hermione hissed at him, scandalized at his impropriety.

"I was hit by a stray curse in a hallway duel in my first year," Kakashi replied seriously. "I don't like to talk about it."

"But you're a first year like us, right?" Hermione asked. "I mean, you can't be much older than twelve, so this should be your first year in magical education."

Kakashi smiled politely, inwardly wishing he could just ignore all of them like he would at home. "Well, in Konoha, we typically begin our education at age seven, like Muggles do. We find that a magical core can actually collapse in on itself if it isn't taken care of at a young age."

"Really? But how is it that it doesn't happen here at Hogwarts?"

Kakashi snorted. "It has. Sometime around age eight, your magical core collapsed and nearly extinguished completely. That's why you can only control your energy if you have a wand to amplify it for you. Occasionally when your magic collapses, it actually does go out. Hence, a Squib."

Hermione caught the hidden implication and gagged on her food. "You can do wandless magic!"

"To be specific, I can only do wandless magic."

"Wha' happensh when 'ou ' use a wan'?"

Four days prior…

"Kakashi, if you're going to use the planned façade and pretend to be a student, you will need to have a wand. It would look odd if a supposedly magical student didn't have the most basic of wizard tools." Dumbledore looked positively delighted at the prospect. "Hence, I have invited Mr. Ollivander here to try and find you a wand."

Ollivander, a stick-thin man with bulbous eyes and uncombed gray-white hair, inspected Kakashi closely.

It was rather an uncomfortable situation. Kakashi had seen a lot of ugly people in his life, but none of them were quite so unnerving. The man put him in mind of a grasshopper, with his too-long limbs and wide, staring eyes.

"Ah, Mr. Hatake," said Ollivander. "A shinobi. I have never had to find a wand for a shinobi before, but I can see in your face that it will be a difficult task indeed."

"Why?"

"Well, Mr. Hatake, a wand tends to choose the wizard- or, in this case, the shinobi- that it feels it is most compatible with. In other words, a wand will not work if it feels that you are unworthy of it or if you try to take it by force."

"That's completely ridiculous," Kakashi argued.

"Oh?" Dumbledore seemed almost amused. "Why do you say that, Mr. Hatake?"

"A tool is a tool," Kakashi said plainly, wondering why he had to explain something so obvious. "Any good tool can be used as the owner feels necessary.. My kunai wouldn't argue with me if I decided to kill you now, or if I decided to cut some bread. My sword does what it is meant to do. My chakra obeys. Why should a piece of wood be any different?"

"And that is precisely the mindset that is making this task so much harder than it needs to be," Ollivander said sharply. " No wand will take to you that way."

Several Hours Later...

"Damn it! Why do they keep exploding?"

"I'm almost full out! What are you doing to them, my boy? I've never had damage to the wand itself, only damage to the surrounding areas. They're supposed to be resilient. It's as though they aren't simply rejecting you, they're just exploding because..."

Because...?

But that was the problem, wasn't it? Things didn't explode for no reason; it had to be a combustible material ignited by some force, or a difference in pressure, or a sudden outpouring of chakra.

Pressure. That was it. Kakashi wished his Sharingan was like the Byakugan- able to see chakra pathways and tenketsu clearly, instead of just in a muddled haze. It would be so convenient at times like these.

"It's the pressure," he said at last. "Your magic sort of trickles out through your fingers, I think, and then it's absorbed into the wand and amplified. But I'm used to forcibly mixing celestial energy and physical energy and shoving it out through my hands in an extremely pressurized state."

As an example, he formed the half-ram seal with his left hand and held chakra in it as it glowed a light blue-white. "The condensed chakra is so powerful that it fills the wand entirely. When the wand does what it's supposed to and tries to amplify the chakra, the chakra builds up pressure until the fragile wand can't take the extreme pressure. At the point where magic, which is more fluid, would be released from the tip, chakra is rolled into a steadily expanding mass of volatile energy."

Ollivander stared. "You know... I think that may be it!"

"Of course that's it. They don't call me a genius for nothing."

"However, as that is the case, it would seem that you are unable of performing spells with a wand. I cannot help you further."

"So? What happens when you use a wand, Kakashi?"

He pulled his mind out of memories and smiled to hide his impatience. "When I use a wand, the energy builds up inside the wand until it has spontaneously combusted and is disintegrated into microscopic ash particles."

"That's impossible." Ron had swallowed and was looking rather pale.

"No, really." Kakashi's grin widened. "Do you want me to demonstrate with your wand?"

"No! I-I mean, no, I'm fine thanks, mate."

"Are you sure?" Kakashi's fingers twitched ominously, and Ron gripped his wand where it was hidden in his robes.

"P-positive."

Hermione, however, wasn't put off by Kakashi's posturing. "So, how does this wandless magic thing work?"

Might as well tell the truth. Or at least, the abridged version of the truth.

He shrugged, hoping to give off a carefree air, but got the feeling that he had failed. Miserably. "Well, before completing any wandless magic you have to have your celestial energy balanced with your physical energy. Most wizards are born with a set amount of celestial energy, but in Konoha, we train our bodies to become strong in physical energies as well."

"So you're all really fit, right?"

"That's the general idea, yes. It's also part of the reason why people here will likely never be capable of wandless magic at all. They rely entirely on their magical core and the wand necessary to harness that magic. In duels at home, such a distinct reliance would get you killed."

Hermione looked at him in shock, and he realized that he'd said too much. It was easy to talk to her- she was on the same level as him when it came to intelligence- and he hadn't been thinking about what he was saying.

"I don't mean killed. Like, as in, dead," he said, lying through his teeth. "I just mean, you know; what's the word? Defeated." In other words, dead.

"Oh." Hermione's voice was faint, but she perked back up almost instantly. "So people were into dueling at your school? How did the duels work?"

And so Kakashi launched into a cheerful (and extremely abridged) explanation of 'dueling' at his 'academy'. In an effort to avoid any more, awkward questions, he followed up with several anecdotes (most of which were completely made up), and one rather interesting 'duel' (which was mostly true, much to his embarrassment) involving Genma, Kurenai, ramen, senbon, spandex, twenty seven headbands belonging to high-ranking jounin across Konoha, and a platter of fish.

He was just beginning to tell her about Gai, a 'classmate' who liked to challenge Kakashi to meaningless duels, and sickly Hayate, when there was a startled cry from Ron and Potter.

A translucent ghost in a ridiculous outfit appeared to be demonstrating something. He supposed that the students must have been frightened. The ghost had torn his head so that it was attached by the barest strip of flesh. With the air of one who is embarrassed and trying not to show it, he flipped his head back so that it was upright again.

The ghost coughed slightly, and then, no doubt in an attempt to change the subject, said, "Well, so we have an interesting crop of new Gryffindors this year, don't we?"

He was looking at Kakashi out of the corner of his eye as he said this, and it was clear that it was he who was being referenced. Oh. A diversion technique.

Damn ghosts. Ron immediately perked up. "Hey, Harry! Meet Kakashi! He's been training in magic since he was seven and he can do magic without a wand!"

Harry looked slightly confused. "Is that... normal?"

"Bloody hell, Harry, it's brilliant! You have to be a really powerful wizard, like Dumbledore- part of the reason Merlin was so famous was that he was really, really good at wandless magic! Kakashi's like, a genius!"

Kakashi winced. He hadn't meant to draw attention to himself.

Harry looked at Kakashi, respect radiating from him. Well, at least one of the brats knew where he stood. "Wow. It's, uh, nice to meet you, Kakashi."

Kakashi stuck his hand out awkwardly. "Pleasure."

Rather suddenly, all of the food disappeared. Ron, who was in the middle of eating a large slice of pork, objected loudly.

However, moments later, all the rich, filling food was replaced by even more rich, filling food, and in even more copious amounts than before. There seemed to be an unlimited amount of deserts covering every dish.

Kakashi vaguely wondered where all of the uneaten food went. It couldn't just go to waste, but he couldn't picture wizards eating leftovers, either. Not to mention that there were enough leftovers from the feast to last a month. It was a mystery. Wasting it would be foolish, but so would keeping it, and selling it would be impossibility in this world of finicky individuals.

He politely declined whatever ridiculous dessert Hermione was offering him, and answered Harry's questions vaguely, while Ron just sat and stared at him in awe. It was an irritating arrangement, but it helped him to keep his mind fairly on the present moment.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus, the Irish boy. "Me dad's a Muggle. Me mum's a witch. She didn't tell him until they were married though. That was a surprise." There was laughter all around the table, and Kakashi's interest piqued.

They were talking about bloodlines, then. He wondered if there were any bloodline limits in the wizarding world. Probably not, but there was always the possibility...

The chubby boy, Neville told an interesting story in which his family tried aggressively forcing him to use magic. The Hyuga had done that for a while, putting young children in life-or-death situations to see if they could uncover their Byakugan. It worked- for some. For the others, there was an untimely and very gruesome death.

Fortunately, it seemed that this Neville was a success story, and that his magic had been revealed after all.

Ron seemed to be from a very large but relatively disconnected clan of wizards, whose only revealed bloodline limit was the ability to stun an opponent with that bright red hair. Five brothers and a sister. Ron had said it glumly, but it was clear he valued family highly.

Harry was not questioned, and Kakashi, who had heard the story of Harry's parents' demise from Dumbledore, had a good idea of why.

"So, what's your family like, Kakashi?"

Kakashi turned slowly and looked straight into Ron's eyes, his throat tightening painfully. You're a shinobi. You have no emotions. He should have known this question was coming; he should have known and prepared for it. Visions: of his mother, her smooth skin ravaged by illness; of his father, curled on the floor, blood staining the wood in a dark pool.

The red-haired boy appeared to regret the question immediately, sensing a taboo subject, but Kakashi answered in a flat voice. There was no time to come up with a realistic background story.

"My- my parents are dead."

Hermione caught the word and turned sharply. "Oh, no! Kakashi, I'm so sorry!"

He smiled blandly, and the tension relaxed by a few degrees. "It's fine. I live with my teacher, Minato Namikaze, and his wife. He's been sort of like a second father to me, and I get by."

Ron still looked mortified, but Hermione ventured to ask in a timid voice, "How- if you don't mind me asking- how did it happen?"

Pain. It was like a red-hot stake applied to his stomach, and bile rose to his throat. He flinched slightly, and hoped his mask hid it well enough. My mother died of a respiratory disease when I was four. My father was disgraced by the village and committed suicide in his bedroom when I was eight, and there was so much blood…

Instead of recounting the gruesome events, he smiled a forced smile and said, fixedly, "There was a car crash."

Harry knew, instinctively, that Kakashi was lying. How many times had Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon responded to his questions with that very same answer: "There was a car crash. Your parent died in a car crash, you stupid boy! No, there isn't anything more to it! They died in a car crash, driving drunk, no doubt."

Even Kakashi's tone smacked of a secret.

But why? Perhaps the answer was complicated, and painful to recount. In any case, he thought that the only part that was true was the part about his teacher. There was a glow in his eyes as he talked about this 'Minato Namikaze'. It was lucky, Harry thought, that there was someone who could be there for him. It looked like he needed it.

Harry's first impression of the white-haired boy was that he was hiding something. For one thing, his eyes flickered in recognition at Harry's name, but he didn't react like everyone else, with the now-familiar upwards eye-flick towards his scar. Instead, Kakashi had studied him thoroughly, like he was memorizing his face, and hadn't looked at him since.

He didn't seem quite straightforward. For all of Ron's praise and excited questions, Kakashi still seemed distant to the first years, older than them somehow.

Perhaps it was that he was away from his Academy. After all, if he was so close to his teacher, it would be a bitter separation, to leave for a foreign school for six months. And it would hurt, to have to come out and say that his entire family was dead.

Harry just wished that he knew what had really happened.

The conversation was just picking back up, sans Kakashi, when Dumbledore stood from his seat in the middle of the staff table on the dais. He spread out his hands in a welcoming gesture. The desserts disappeared like the food had, and again Kakashi wondered what on earth they planned to do with thirteen hundred leftover cupcakes.

The Headmaster began to speak, and for the most part, the students fell silent.

"Ahem. Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered, thank you."

He surveyed them all, eyes seeming to twinkle (or maybe that was just the lighting).

"To begin with, first-year students," his twinkling blue eyes flashed to Kakashi for a moment, "should know that the Forbidden Forest is completely forbidden to all pupils. Also, Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you that magic in the corridors is also against the rules."

So Dumbledore had found out about his little escapade in the Forest, had he?

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Several students laughed, including Harry Potter, his charge. Well. He hoped that Potter didn't take such a carefree attitude when it came to real danger, or he would have a difficult time keeping him alive. And certainly, keeping the students away from that corridor would be nearly impossible now that Dumbledore had announced it as out-of-bounds.

"And now! Before bed, let us all sing the school song." Dumbledore flicked his wand, and illusory ribbons flew out the end, forming into words- were they lyrics?

"Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!"

It was cacophony. Ron was singing it to the tune of a children's song, and Hermione was singing something soft and sweet. Harry seemed slightly unsure of what was expected of him, and sang a tune that he probably made up on the spot. Kakashi didn't sing, and no one and nothing would make him.

When, finally, everyone was finished except for two redheaded Weasleys singing an uncannily good rendition of a funeral dirge, Dumbledore dismissed the lot of them. It wasn't organized, as it might have been in Konoha. Rather, there were a lot of confused students going any which way, and one or two desperate older students attempting to regain order.

The Gryffindor first years followed yet another redheaded Weasley through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. The students seemed exhausted and sleepy from overeating.

Kakashi shot death glares at many of the portraits who whispered and pointed as they passed, some pointing at the Potter kid and some pointing at him.

It did seem that the students were used to the hidden passages, since twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. All of these passageways seemed fairly innocuous; there weren't many traps or violent animals that Kakashi would have to look out for. They seemed to be merely shortcuts.

The first-years climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Kakashi was wondering how many of them would collapse before they got there, when the authoritative Percy Weasley pulled up short. There was a bundle of small, carved, walking sticks.

They were hanging in midair.

Percy began speaking to Peeves (Kakashi had been unlucky enough to come into contact with the poltergeist several times before, and they weren't on good terms).

The poltergeist popped into view and stuck out his tongue at the prefect. "Oooh, Ickle Firsties! What fun!" He swooped down suddenly and the first years, with the exception of Kakashi, scattered.

Peeves, apparently seeing Kakashi for the first time, laughed wickedly. "Oh, there you are! You're the nasty little boy with that awful mask! Is the nasty boy pretending to be a student?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Kakashi, a heavy sensation in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh! Does the nasty boy not have his nasty knives?" Peeves surveyed him from where he was perched upside-down in the air. "No nasty knives no more?"

Kakashi narrowed his visible eye and let out as much of his killing intent as was possible without scaring the students. "Get lost, Peeves."

To the astonishment of all, Peeves scurried away, pausing only to drop the sticks on Neville's head.

"What was that?"

"That was bloody awesome!"

"I've never seen Peeves take orders from a student before!"

"Amazing, mate!"

Kakashi was besieged in the Common Room, and it was all he could do to shy away from questions and get upstairs. "I need to unpack! Look, I don't know why he listened, he just did. I'm tired!"

To the disappointment of many, he trudged up the stairs and lay down in his four-poster bed.

The room was slightly moonlit from the open window. It all looked very spooky and dramatic. No doubt Obito would have been in awe.

Obito. His bag of ninja tools was carefully hidden, but on a whim, Kakashi pulled it out of its hiding place and opened it. Obito's goggles, still dirty from the event in the Forbidden Forest, glowed in the half-light. He held them for a moment, then put them and Rin's silver locket on his bedside table. Two mementos of two friends.

As an afterthought, he untied his headband. A memento of Minato-sensei as well, to complete the little shrine of home.

Exhausted from nearly a week with little to no rest, Kakashi collapsed on his bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

This chapter has not been edited; as a result, the quality of the writing is likely not up to current standards. I'm working on rectifying this problem and hope to post a better version soon.

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