Chapter 7 – The Journey from Platform 9 ¾
Key: Thoughts versus Speaking in Japanese
Summer of 2001 passed by rather quickly. Shisui spent most of his time training in the park or people watching in Diagon Alley under a henge. To everyone else, he was just you average, plain looking brown haired, brown-eyed short muggleborn kid studying for his first year at Hogwarts. His true intentions weren't just to study, though, but to gather information. He wanted to observe people's mannerisms and customs and learn the slang they used and, hopefully, get some political information too.
The first important revelation of the summer occurred when Gringotts sent a letter naming him Lord Black. Apparently, Sirius Black was indeed listed as medically incapacitated by his own finance manager, leaving rights as heir to him. The two living Black women were married and had no claim to the Black estate in the rather archaic system of inheritance the Europeans used. Back in Konoha, even surnames after marriage were decided not by the husband's name but by who held the more powerful clan name. That's why Itachi's girlfriend and distant relative, Izumi, had her mother's Uchiha name despite the fact that her father was a civilian blacksmith. Naruto was also an Uzumaki not just for his own safety, but because the Uzumaki name had more presence, strength and history to it than did the Namikaze name and Minato being the Yondaime Hokage didn't change that.
He had resolved to ignore the mansions and cabins and houses he was currently in possession of. The bank had owl'd a massive packet of parchment detailing the contents of his two vaults and all of the possessions now in his name. He had a house elf, as well, from the Black family named Kreacher but he wasn't sure how he felt about enslaving a magical creature, so he had yet to call it to his side to do anything for him. The Potters used to have one too, but it was released from the contract about 12 years ago. I wonder why. Surely not just cause they didn't like having an enslaved creature. He had seen them at the House Elf Placement Agency on Carkitt Market Street. Tiny, bony elf-like creatures wearing no shoes and nothing but found clothing like a pillowcase that had long gone yellow with sweat and dead skin cells.
But one important question still remained. Why did he name me his heir, anyways? Did he not have a son of his own? Or was he friends with my father?
He had looked for old newspapers, but no one in Diagon Alley carried old ones. He had been lucky even just to find last week's Daily Prophet. Hopefully Hogwarts has some, like for writing essays even. I need to figure out why he was incarcerated, and what his relation to me is.
The second revelation came from a book, of all things. My mother and father were killed by some evil rogue wizard that no one will name even in a book. He started a war over blood purity and rights for magical creatures, and waged war on everyone.
It sounded similar to Kirigakure's own internal conflicts between civilians and clans. And somehow, despite me being the only survivor, their spells were able to piece together what happened. The rogue wizard warlord shot an unblockable killing curse at me, the same one he killed my mother with, and it somehow rebounded and killed him instead.
That was the part that really got him, and he'd spent many, many days and nights curled up with books trying to figure out an explanation for it. If its unblockable, its unblockable. But the spells said it was definitely that curse – only five spells were used that night. Three killing curses, a spell that broke the door down, and an anti-apparition ward. Eventually, he concluded that this would be another thing to look for leads in the Hogwarts Library about. That and the Sirius Black case.
His aunt and uncle had spent the last two months ignoring him completely, acting as if he were invisible even at dinner. One time, he levitated the last portion of pot roast onto his plate and no one, not even Dudley, said a word about it. None of the usual yelling and general upheaval at his sudden display of abnormality, or freakishness, as they called it, as if the word magic was a curse word. They had always wanted to stamp it out of him from day one. The silent treatment was a bit depressing after a while, but he didn't mind all that much. They'll get over it.
For the first time in his life, he could reach for the bacon at family weekend breakfasts together without Dudley getting territorial and yelling and trying to hit him to take it. Dudley was terrified of him now that he was going to a school for magic so he could learn how to use his magic even better than he already knew how to use it.
Soon, summer was gone and Dudley was off to Smeltings. Dudley would be living in a dormitory and move in day was a week before term, so Shisui had an entire weekend to himself in the house. It was rather nice, to get to cook whatever he wanted to eat and actually watch the tv for a change. A nice little vacation, really, until Aunt Petunia came home and cried her eyes out about how her little Duddikins was off to school all grown up.
Night of August 31st, and he couldn't sleep. It was normal really, he always had trouble falling asleep. His mind brought back all sorts of buried horrors from shinobi life when the whole house was quiet and there was nothing to do. He'd been awake so long that he got hungry, so he soundlessly walked downstairs to get a snack, carefully avoiding the creaky floorboard or two downstairs in the hall.
When he came back up, though, he heard talking coming from Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's bedroom at the end of the hall. He walked slowly, cautiously, to their door and crouched outside to listen, making to not block the sliver of light coming in under the door.
"Was it really worth it, Pet? Taking the boy in." Uncle Vernon said, disgruntled. "You couldn't make him like us in the end. He was never one of us."
"I know, Vernon. I know." Petunia snapped. "I think I always knew. I just didn't want to believe it. I couldn't just abandon him, he was my sister's son, and after everything we lost…after my parents were murdered by that madman…I couldn't lose Harry, too. Besides, what sort of person would I be if I said no to my own flesh and blood?"
Madman? Did He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named kill my grandparents, too? Why? Were they trying to find me and my parents? But why us?
"Yes, and that's the only reason I let you keep him, Pet. You said that the blood wards would protect us from his followers until they all could be arrested and put in prison."
Blood wards? What are blood wards? I assume his followers would have gone after me to kill me for being the reason their leader died.
"Let me? Vernon you didn't give a damn if I kept him or not. You just wanted nothing to do with him." Petunia replied, incredulously. "I couldn't live in fear anymore, Vernon. You don't know what that's like, cause you idn't understand, you still don't understand. The absolute horror it is, every minute, expecting those – those freaks who followed that madman to break in and kill us all to try to find Lily and James."
A moment of silence, then she continued, her voice shaking with grief and tears. "Did you know, Vernon? The only reason we were spared was because Severus told them that we had a falling out. That's why my parents and my grandparents were killed instead of us, Vernon. Because no one thought she would seek shelter with me." Then, she broke down crying, and Vernon consoled her, and the conversation was over.
He went back to his room with a heavy heart. So that's how they died. I always thought she was leaving out details, but never something that big. I wonder what blood wards are? Given the context, they sound like some kind of protective barrier fuinjutsu.
To say the least, he didn't sleep well that night.
It was the morning of Saturday, September 1st. He had gotten up just before dawn as usual, got dressed for training and headed out with his weapons hostlers on his leg, holding a bag of apples he'd duplicated. Crows will eat nearly anything but with not a single penny to his name, this was all he had to give them.
It didn't take him long to get to his familiar clearing in the grove of trees by the park. As usual, the crows were waiting in the trees around the clearing for him. He scattered the diced pieces of apples around the clearing for them to eat, as payment for the work he was about to make them do, and an incentive to continue to work for him. This was the flock of crows he'd chakra bonded with as first-generation summon animals, like Itachi's had been.
"Lets work hard, hm?" He said, sitting down on the grass and speaking in his native tongue to them, watching them eat. "We almost have the substitution technique down perfect." They had mastered the basic crow substitution technique, and he was working with them on pecking at the attacker, too.
Shisui made the horse sign with his hands. "Shadow clone jutsu!" He had spent years running laps around the neighborhood and building up his chakra reserves so he could do this jutsu, finally.
A clone of himself popped into existence beside him. "Hey, boss! Crow body replacement technique again?"
He nodded. "Yep! Let's do this. You know what to do." He pushed chakra to his eyes and activated his two-tomoe sharingan.
His shadow clone leapt up into the trees and hid himself. He waited, looking and listening, for the attack.
Then, with barely a rustle of leaves, his shadow clone launched itself from the bushes behind him, hurling a volley of shuriken at him, which he blocked easily with a kunai. His shadow clone came in behind the shuriken, fist up and ready to hit him.
He bit his thumb so it bled, activated the summoning seal so it glowed between his hands, and sped through the hand signs. Tiger, boar, ox, dog, snake. "Substitution technique!"
His clone's fist landed itself square in the jaw for but a moment, an illusion caused by a visual delay really, before his body turned into dozens of crows, cawing, angry. "Attack!" He ordered, from his new spot in a tree nearby. To his relief, they remembered and flocked around his clone, pecking at it mercilessly. It shielded its face with tis arms, trying to protect it from the worst of the damage. It dispelled in seconds.
He clicked his tongue to mark the behavior, hopped down, and pulled out some nuts he'd found. "Good job."
Using his magic, he duplicated them and cracked them for the crows, throwing them on the ground where his shadow clone was moments crows ate up and then dispersed back to the trees to watch him train. Well, some of them did. Others flew off.
Not minding that he had a good dozen pecking wounds on his arms now, he grabbed the targets laying against his taijutsu training tree and levitated them to random spots around the clearing so he could practice his throwing. Its not as good as the training forest back home, but it'll do.
As usual, he hit all nine. He did several rounds of this, in varying levels of difficulty, using his one-hand seal kunai duplication technique he'd shown Itachi way back when to multiply the kunai before he threw them. It made his weapons last longer. After that, he practiced taijutsu at a tree for a while. He'd gotten the idea from his old teammate during the war with Kiri, Hyuuga Hiroki. Its how the Hyuuga trained for their gentle fist style on their own time.
Hours passed, and soon the sun was up and joggers were starting to appear. Time to go home. He wouldn't get in his running today, because he would be at school, but this was good enough. He went home to get changed into his school uniform and eat breakfast before they had to leave. He'd come in to eat after his usual morning training session, dressed in the white button up and black trousers of his Hogwarts uniform with his weapons hostlers tied to his right leg, to see his uncle eating a bowl of some kind of chocolate flavored cereal at the table over the morning paper.
"Good morning, Uncle Vernon." he said, to try to keep things friendly and polite. "I'm supposed to go to Kings Cross Station today to board the train to school. Will you be taking me?"
Vernon grunted and deigned to look up at him. "Of course not. You're your aunt's problem, not mine. Go ask her." Vernon scoffed and returned his gaze to the headlines.
Turning on his heels, he went to his Aunt Petunia in the living room. She was on the couch watching a program on tv. "Aunt Petunia, can you take me to Kings Cross? So I can catch the train to school."
She looked at him, scornfully, but there wasn't as much heat there as there used to be. She gave up on me. "May as well. They'll be sending someone to get you personally if I don't, I'm sure."
She didn't ask him if he had everything, or any specific items, like Mikoto would have, but that would have been awkward to tell the truth. He put on his school uniform shoes, grabbed his trunk and followed her to the car, and they we off. No one spoke the entire ride there, and they arrived at half past ten. She pulled up in front of Kings Cross and dropped him off there, and within seconds she was gone and he was all alone in front of the building.
He'd never been to a train station before, even back home. Some people were giving him looks as he put his school trunk on a trolly and wheeled it inside all on his own. He followed the signs and the people, trying to see if there was a sign anywhere. Maybe they've got a hidden platform sign, like the Leaky Cauldron?
When nothing showed up, and he was left sitting on a random bench between platforms 9 and 10 just waiting awkwardly, watching everyone and feeling anxious at being surrounded by so many unknowns. Too many people to keep an eye on all at once in preparation for an attack. No that he needed to, just old habits die hard. Maybe they've got it hidden like the entrance to Diagon Alley.
It was hard to find potential witches or wizards to watch, though, when so many people were dressed in similar school uniforms. Hogwarts students would certainly blend in well, for being such a medieval society.
Finally, after a good ten minutes of people watching, he found a suspicious looking stone pillar between the platforms. In a very unnatural way, much like a genjutsu, one was paying any attention to it. No one looked at it and people who walked within a meter or two of it suddenly seemed to remember something and take off in another direction. And the oddest part about it? No one noticed how suddenly everyone remembered something to attend to or something they forgot or such, either.
He sat back and watched as several families sent their children through the platform, all pushing traditional old trunks and owl cages and cat crates on trollies just like he was. Finally, he got up and went in himself, running at the wall pushing the trolly and trying not to instinctually brace for impact.
On the other side of the platform was a sleek, shiny black and red train with the words Hogwarts Express on the side. He stepped aside to let others through and saw that, sure enough, the sign above the platform read 'Platform 9 ¾'.
It was just as crowded and noisy in here as it was outside. People were talking and yelling and screaming in delight at seeing close friends again. Over by the pet carriage, an attendant was loading cages and crates onto the train. Owls were hooting in indignance at being jostled and cats were hissing at each other, and the owls, in a mixture of fear and anger.
Families were crowding around children in varying degrees of dressed in uniform and not dressed in uniform. You could tell who was from what background by what the non-uniformed kids wore. The muggleborn kids came in all alone dressed in familiar clothes, while children from wizarding families teleported in wearing mostly fancy or aged century-or-two old clothing styles. I doubt a magic-raised kid would even be able to dress themselves in modern clothes.
Shisui found an empty compartment and put his trunk up on the top rack, mildly surprising himself when it shrunk itself to fit with plenty of room left for two other trunks. Wow. All the uses for magic they think of, its surprising. But useful.
He was alone for just a few moments before a boy with red hair as bright as an Uzumaki's opened the compartment door. "Hullo. Anyone else sitting here?" He was tall, thin, and had big hands and feet and freckles. "Everywhere else is full." They had waited until the last moment to get on the train.
He shook his head. "No, come on in." he replied, gesturing to the bench across from him.
"Thanks." The boy replied, hauling his own heavy trunk onto the rack above. "I'm Ron Weasley."
"My name's Harry Potter."
The boy's expression went from bored and apprehensive to shocked in seconds. "Blimey. Are you really Harry Potter? And have you really got the – uh, you know –" he didn't finish, and pointed to his forehead.
He nodded and, obliging, he pushed his spiky black hair out of the way, revealing the strange lightning shaped scar. He was used to gawkers asking rude questions back in Konoha.
"So that's where You Know Who….?" Ron asked.
"Uh-huh." He replied. "Supposedly. No one really knows exactly what happened. I don't remember it."
"Nothing?" Ron said eagerly.
"Well, I remember a flash of green light, but that's it." He obliged. Civilians didn't need the messy details, like the murderer laughing as his mother screamed and a flash of green light filled his vision. As a child, he'd hated the color green. He remembered his Aunt Petunia saying that as a toddler he was terrified of it.
"Wow." Ron breathed, in awe, staring for a long moment before he realized what he was doing and quickly looked out the window.
The two boys sat in silence for a moment, with Shisui trying to think of something to ask that wouldn't risk showing how good he was with magic already. It was one thing he noticed in Diagon Alley – not a single child used magic on their own. They always asked a parent – or, in the case of a rare few, a house elf or a servant - accompanying them to do things for them.
"So, is your family magical or muggle?" he finally settled on the most mundane question he could think of.
"Er, yes I think so." Ron replied. "Mum's got a second cousin, a squib who's an accountant, but we never talk about him. I've got my mum and dad, a little sister, and five older brothers."
Shisui laughed. "Wow, five? I've never known anyone with that many siblings." Most Konoha shinobi parents didn't live long enough to have that many kids, in his generation. He shared a bit, to try to earn the boy's trust. "I was raised by my mum's sister, Aunt Petunia, and her husband my Uncle Vernon, and their son, my cousin Dudley. They're all muggle, so seeing magic everywhere is still pretty amazing to me."
It sounded like Ron was from a magical family that, regardless of who they supported during the war, seemed to hold some small amount of prejudice. I wonder if squibs being rejected and abandoned causes muggleborns…
The boys talked for a while, sharing family stories and talking about growing up, and eventually Ron started talking about his siblings and their accomplishments. "Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, its no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five older brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."
Ron reached inside his cloak's interior pocket and pulled out a sleeping fat grey rat. It didn't even wake up at being jostled and handled, it was sleeping so deeply. Huh, interesting. Why's a house pet missing a middle claw?
"His name's Scabbers and he's useless. He hardly ever wakes up." He could understand if it was several claws, an outer claw, or even the entire paw. "He's a boring pet. Doesn't do any tricks or have any magical quirk anything."
Must be a pretty old rat, if it was his older brother's. Prefects are supposed to be older students.
"Percy got an owl from dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff-I mean, I got Scabbers instead." It was painfully obvious that Ron's parents simply couldn't afford to buy both boys an owl, and he saw nothing wrong with it.
"There's nothing wrong with not having any money. I didn't have any until two months ago either, when I found out my parents left me money. No one told me." He replied. "I grew up wearing Dudley's old hand me downs and sleeping with his old bedding sets and mattresses. I never got anything new, and I never got presents either. They were saving up to put Dudley in a private boarding school."
"Oh! You mean like Beauxbatons and Durmstrang?" Ron asked. They were the wizards' equivalent of private boarding schools, since they had expensive tuition whereas Hogwarts was free. Apparently Beauxbaton's student school supply aid Gringotts account was funded exclusively by one man named Nicholas Flamel.
He nodded. "Yeah, like them."
The boys talked some more, and then a plump old witch in a uniform popped the compartment door open. "Anything from the trolly, dears?" She was pushing a trolly full of all sorts of candy.
Ron looked at the cart longingly for a moment, before appearing resigned as he pulled out what appeared to be two crushed sandwiches wrapped in large napkins secured with what was no doubt a sticking charm. "No thanks, I'm all set."
He waved the trolly lady away. "No thanks, I brought my own."
He reached up to get his trunk out, set it on his bench, and pulled out his bento before putting the trunk back on the rack. His aunt had been buying him cheap sandwich stuff and crisps and fruit to have at home for lunch over the summer, so he packed some of it for lunch today. He'd been doing it all summer on his outings to Diagon Alley.
They had barely finished their lunch when the compartment door opened again and a girl with bushy brown hair and bucked teeth opened the door and poked her head in. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost his." She was already wearing the full school uniform.
Ron shook his head. "No, sorry. Harry?" the boy sent him a questioning look.
The girl's face lit up at the name. "Harry? Harry Potter?"
"Yep. The one and only." He said calmly.
"Are you really? I know all about you, of course. I picked up some books for a bit of background reading, because nobody in my family has magic at all. I'm the first. Did you know? You're in three different books. 'Modern Magical History' and 'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts' and 'Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century'."
Shisui's first impression of the girl was that she was trying too hard to fit in, and that she was a bit of a know it all. On a genin team, she'd be well meaning but inadvertently cause fights. "Yeah, I read those. I read a lot over the summer. Didn't wanna be behind before I even get there." Not much else to do, anyways.
Hermione's face lit up. "You like to read too? Oh, I'm so glad! Did you read "Hogwarts: A History'?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I got that one too."
"What house do you think you two will be in?" She asked, looking between the both of them this time. "I've been asking around, and I think I want to be in Gryffindor. It sounds like the best, and I heard our Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore himself was in Gryffindor. He's a hero, you know? He defeated Dark Lord Grindelwald. He could be the Minister if he wanted, they even offered him the position, but he turned it down. Such a humble man, don't you think?"
Ron was looking at Hermione, dazed. "Yeah, humble. Right." He paused to mentally catch up for a moment. "I don't know. My mum and dad and brothers all got sorted into Gryffindor. I don't know what they'll say if I don't get in. I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad…but imagine if they put me in Slytherin?" The redhead boy made a face to emphasize his point.
"I hear you. That'd be bad, between the rivalry and it being You Know Who's house." he replied. "I don't know what house I'll be in. I don't even know what house my mother and father were in."
Ron sat up at this. "No one told you?" he said, a little incredulously. "Your mum and dad were both Gryffindors. They were friends with my mum and her brothers, and Neville's parents."
"Really? Maybe I'll be in Gryffindor then." He smiled, happy to hear more about them. Gryffindor. So they were Gryffindors. Suits them, I think. They died bravely, selflessly.
"I hope you are too, Harry." Hermione replied. "Its getting late. I expect we'll be arriving soon, so you two had better change into your robes." With that, she stood and left, presumably to go find more new friends.
Ron gave him a look when she left. "Whatever house I'm in, I hope its not the same one as her."
He shrugged, not really wanting to comment one way or another. "I'm gonna get my robes on."
Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. I got stuck, writing two Shisui-centric Harry Potter crossovers. And I also realized something mid-way through writing this…I completely forgot if I intended to make Shisui a horcrux in this. See this is why I delay so long…I get stuck with some random small detail like the characterization of his future housemates, and then get stuck even more cause I forgot my original plans and they're buried in some spiral somewhere.
A few important points!
So for this, no he's not a horcrux. I hate horcrux Harry cause my headcanon is that making one requires a special ritual, or else surely more people would have horcruxes. Maybe that's why I changed his wand? Probably. Yeah he's still got the scar, though, as you'll see. Its got a purpose, too.
I wasn't sure what to do with Itachi's crow jutsu. Chakra through can create genjutsu, not life, and Itachi's girlfriend's death was notable because genjutsu killed and that was supposed to be some impossible thing. So, can genjutsu cause injury or the illusion of injury? I wasn't sure. But given that Itachi implanted Shisui's sharingan into a crow, I decided that they're probably real crows.
No, just cause I introduced Ron and Hermione doesn't mean he's gonna be in Gryffindor. I haven't completely decided which house I want him in yet tbh. Even if I do know where I'm leaning. Which would you rather see? Gryffindor or Slytherin? Those are really the only options, there's very few canon characters in Hufflepuff and Slytherin.
Yes, Shisui still doesn't know Lord Voldemort's name or that he's still alive. No one's told him yet.
