Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, or Harry Potter. Really...

XXX

Skywalker tilted his head. Tesuya gulped.

"Entertain me, Tetsuya kun"

Tetsuya hopped back a few feet, drawing a wakizashi as he did so. This was a really really bad situation. And to top it off, he had no backup.

Skywalker had yet to move. In fact, Tetsuya was pretty sure the fellow had yet to twitch, blink or even breathe. The spider thing on the other hand was practically a living animal, stretching limbs, and making clicking noises, not to mention the hissing sound that was too close to breathing for him to be comfortable.

In spite of himself, Tetsuya took a moment to appreciate the monstrosity that would no doubt rip him to shreds in short order. It had a demonic visage, a face worthy of a true akuma, something he previously had seen only from a distance, with blades that popped out from inside its unholy maw. The limbs seemed to be made of simple wooden shafts, if one discounted the multiple blades that popped up here and there, which had a vague symmetry to it that he could not immediately discern. The torso looked about 6 feet long and the limbs were all about 5 feet long each. And there was no doubt it was full of nasty surprises just itching to destroy him.

As for himself, Patrol armor would not save him from the bite of steel, no matter how good it was. Tetsuya finally lost his cool and snapped into action. He jumped backward onto a tree branch, even as a brace of shuriken flew at the face and torso of the his expressionless opponent. While he doubted a victory was possible, he definitely had the option of stalling for time, which was what he was trying to achieve. After all, stronger opponents seemed to have the tendency to, as Takeda put it, "play with their prey". Not the most ninja-ish thing to do, but it should work in his favour.

'I hope'

The man on the arachnid casually batted away the dark blue, snowflake shaped projectiles away, using a kodachi, without the slightest worry at all. "troublesome..." was his only comment. And he made it look so damn easy! It was like facing Hayate, only worse, and with a possibility of death.

Retreat was not an option either. The outpost transmitter may not have records of signals broadcast and received, the transmitter itself was a classified design, unique to Hakumei, not to mention, freakishly expensive.

"Why are you doing this, Skywalker san? We have no reason to be fighting. We are not enemies. So why are you fighting me?"

He asked this in English, because, frankly it seemed to be his opponents preferred language. And when he didn't have a snowballs chance in hell of usurping control, it was time to break out the ass kissing, subtly of course.

"Tetsuya kun, did you not make the first move? And here I was hoping you would say a joke. Or maybe was it sing a song?"

Tetsuya was not sure exactly what was going on. On the other hand, Takeda's warning about unhinged personalities was playing over and over in the back of his head...

"Tetsuya kun, if you ever meet him again, flee. It does not matter if he is on the brink of death. Simply flee. I once read that only the truly strong can remain eccentric and still live to fight. And somebody as unsound as him even I would not care to face. For now, we will let him be, as ordered. But if he shows up at Hogwarts, retreat and tell Taka. That's an order."

"Too late for now... Lets see long you can last against Sasori here..."

Sasori. Scorpion. As in insect with huge poisonous stinger at the end of a really long, fast and powerful tail. And the avatar of slicing and stabbing before him already was 6 feet tall. The tail was nowhere in sight. Yet.

Tetsuya turned to the colour of bleached bone. A vampire would been jealous. No doubt the man was going to cut him up into tiny pieces to scatter to the four winds or something. That is assuming he didn't simply poke him with some exotic incurable poison. He really didn't want to die. So he tried to stall.

"Are you going to kill me now?"

It was best to be blunt. Strong people aren't prone to answering annoying gnats who tried to play in a higher league. And he didn't want to talk long enough that the raw fear he had been suppressing would leak out or something.

"Well, I suppose if you do not eliminate my boredom I will have to make my displeasure known..."

That monotone was making him feel like laughing, raging, and losing bowel control. He'd already lost the psychological war. Skywalker had taken control of the situation without batting an eyelid. Well, it was time to die for his clan, his commander and the line of Amaterasu. Well that's what they kept saying when he was still an impressionable youth. He raised his blade, which he knew was totally outmatched against the chainsaw massacre that was Sasori, and charged.

The annoyingly dangerous man had meanwhile jumped off the scorpion and was watching the clash, with the same indifference that had characterized the rest this encounter.

The wakizashi he used was useless against the multiple blades of Sasori. If the spider like thing wasn't playing with him, Tetsuya had no doubt that he would have been ground meat. Really, it was just dancing through his frustrated slashes. And it wasn't even retaliating! The abomination of a spider was destroying him through sheer attrition. And if the thing was animated, as he had no doubt it was, it would keep going a lot longer than he could. In short he was doomed. He had no means to break off on his own.

Harry on the other hand was actually on a tree above the small clearing at the moment, looking somewhat introspective. His puppet was much more effective than he had anticipated. Sure, it was difficult to really control all limbs at once(shadow clones and the splitting of tasks to the rescue!), but it was still awesome. His short battle was not exactly the most amazing display of fighting ability as much as applied human psychology. Killer intent, localised genjutsu and the sight of a lot of pointy objects had been far more effective than complete mastery over taijutsu or kenjutsu could have achieved here.

Tetsuya on the other hand was trying really really hard not to lose to this seeming automaton. True, it had been scarcely 2 minutes, but he was already fully aware just how outmatched he was. Life was so unfair.

And then, with no warning, the spider peeled off, retreating to a tree trunk behind Skywalker.

Tetsuya did not even dare hope.

"Not bad Tetsuya kun...All that remains to be seen is how effective your shinobi arts are against mine..."

And then, in a very casual way, he slid the kodachi from its sheath on is back, a reverse grip that belied the true lethality of the weapon. He then flipped it in the air, catching it in a more traditional grip. After giving a few practice slashes that seemed to highlight the speed at which he could move, the blade was pointed right at the Japanese boy. Then, out of nowhere, his left hand had a kunai in it, a defensive stance.

"Shall we spar, Tetsuya kun?"

The next 3 minutes could be basically summarised as the most embarrassing beating Tetsuya had ever received. He was beaten with basically what amounted to brawler tactics, even if he granted that fellow was stronger and faster than he could personally become in the next few years. The strange magics the guy used was obviously more potent and capable in more ways than he had imagined possible. This man was a formidable foe. And even if he hadn't done anything to him, other than humiliating him with light taps instead of killing blows, this was something else.

Harry was, for once actually in combat. It would not do to simply send shadow clones at everything. Not to mention, he didn't want to rely on genjutsu to ensure that Tetsuya wouldn't catch any clone going 'poof'. So he had faced off one on one against the well trained fellow in front of him. However, Harry was still more skilled. He had spent quite a four years in pursuit of the art of combat, and he was still an excellent taijutsu user. While he doubted his was the way of Maito Guy, he was far more capable of beating people than the average martial artist. Fighting against multiple enemies that could do what he did, only without fear of injury meant that he had to fight the experimental and highly imaginative "super" clones of himself that could and had been turned into everything from berserkers to speed demons. Sure, it gave too much off a headache to even think about using in combat(memories of popped clones that went to one of the various 'super' modes were plain debilitating,even with his inhuman Vernon given tolerance to pain. Something to do with the limits of the jutsu he guessed, even if it was merely a sacrifice of one ability for a better version of another). Stealing moves and watching the spars at various dojos did the rest. Sure, it wasn't Japan, but there were still the ones in and around London, few as they were. At the moment, he was using kendo, just a lot more flashy and stronger and faster. The joys of chakra augmentation...

Harry had consciously chosen to limit his arsenal. What he wanted was a one on one fight if he chose to end it with clones or spiked pits? No this was a spar, at least as far as he was concerned. From the Japanese ninja's fight with the multiple clone controlled Sasori, Harry knew that he could beat the other boy. It was simply a difference of skill. It was highly unlikely that both of them were as fanatic about taijutsu as Harry was after all.

It was infuriating. No matter how much energy and effort he pushed into his arms and legs, he was utterly useless against his opponent, who kept himself just a bit faster, just a bit stronger, just a bit better. And the worst part was, Skywalker was blocking his expert strikes with a tiny kunai and swatting at him with the reverse edge of the kodachi. However, Tetsuya himself retained just enough sanity and rationalized that at least he doesn't seem to want to kill me...'. So much for the great prodigy.

By the end, he was so tired that he simply collapsed and refused to move from his spot. He lay on his back, breathing heavily and wondering what came next. He also had the irrational urge to write a haiku on the futility of life and struggle.

Skywalker bent down over him, looking as unruffled as the start of the encounter. Sasori was now nowhere in sight.

"You are of interest to me Tetsuya kun. I must admit that my curiosity has been satisfied. Perhaps in a few years you will truly be an interesting opponent"

The man walked away, the soundless footfalls not leaving a trace of their passage. As his head fell sidewards, Tetsuya could just make out a chuckle as he left. And with that, the cloaked figure was gone, as if he never was there. Tetsuya still lay on the forest floor, on a bed of leaves, limbs flayed out and notched blade beyond his reach. He fell unconscious, shortly before as his comrades landed beside him, to dispense aid. Till he woke up, all they had were questions.

XXX

Deep in the bowels of castle Hogwarts, a different encounter was taking place, The staff meeting was somewhat irregular in frequency. Partly because there really wasn't that much to talk about that needed every single teacher to attend. Gossip could be done elsewhere and all the real bragging was done at the staff table in the great hall anyway. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster and holder of titles too numerous for use in casual conversation watched as his staff good naturedly bickered over such things as quidditch, their students, and all round gossip.

The headmaster himself was not party to this, because strictly speaking, he was the neutral fellow. Not that anyone minded, even if McGonogall was at his side so he caught more than a fair bit about Gryffindor, his old house.

Even the otherwise surly Severus Snape was not above sneering at everyone else and bragging about the best in his house. But then, when it was the Severus Snape who did the bragging, everyone listened. Because unless it was bemoaning about 'that Potter spawn', the man had very little to say at all. He was a Slytherin. And they really weren't supposed to waste their breath on trivialities

Today though, was special. Today was the day that Dumbledore was finally going to ask about two students who were odd in some ways, Harry Potter and Tetsuya Watanabe.

Harry Potter was an enigma. His classmates considered him odd. He was never without either a blank expression or an insane one. It was difficult to say exactly what went on in that mind of his. Not that he was a bad student, in fact he was far from it. But he seemed always distracted, as if he was lost in the contemplation of weighty matters.

And then there was his seeming familiarity with the maze that was Hogwarts. He never got lost. Ever. It was inconceivable for a first year to not get lost even once. It was something he had the portraits and prefects confirm. While It wasn't really possible for the headmaster to know everything that went on in Hogwarts, some people were specially monitored, including Harry.

The boy had managed to shatter a lot of expectations. He was not a Gryffindor, he had yet to be heroic, and he was a textbook Ravenclaw. All he did was read, every single minute of the day Although, Minerva's account had managed to give him a headache, this was even worse. The boy was a figurehead, whether he chose to acknowledge it or not. But he was isolating himself from everyone. He had few friends, even if most of his year were acquaintances. He had yet to even talk with any of the 'declared' families, like the Malfoys or Weasleys. No indication the ministry was getting their hooks on him either. Not that he was expected to. The boy didn't know magic was real until his eleventh birthday. Even he couldn't really make an inroad casually as it was. And with the kind of drama that would arise when Voldemort raised his ugly head again, there was no way to insulate or prepare the boy.

As he was lost in his thoughts, a trinket in one of his pockets began to warm up, telling him that one of his old friends wanted to speak to him. Considering just who it was, there was no doubt that the situation was serious. He excused himself, causing not too little excitement among his staff. As such, he missed the curious gazes of many and the narrowed eyes of one Severus Snape. However, he would not have been surprised to know that the potions masters thought processes revolved around a goldmine of (non magical) curses and the words 'that Potter brat'.

True, he had not managed to learn more about the two different children for now, but whatever it was could not possibly be as important as any news that sent Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody out of retirement.

XXX

His head felt horrible. His limbs were non responsive. The familiar 'feeling' of an ally registered itself before his body began to move. Not that he could at the moment. All his muscles were numb. His carefully honed reflexes numb. Of course, that probably had to do with the liquid filled, black metallic "vat" his body was in. Only his head was visible above it, like a macabre mantelpiece.

It was a Chinese invention, a recent one called 'Dragon Tear Enclosure'. It was basically a medicinal bath of sorts, filled with an infusion draught that was known as 'Dragon Tears'. It was quick, somewhat painless, and very expensive. The body basically floated, but could be restrained, if it was necessary, like in case of a spinal injury or the patient was a prisoner. Head injuries were treated more traditionally. And it was only done for important people, usually anyway.

"How do you feel Tetsuya?"

It was Taka. Trying to get Kenji to talk was like doing an appendectomy on yourself with a rusty spoon. He was more silent assassin of the two. It had something to do with a vow of silence.

"I am unfit for duty."

Short and to the point, with words you couldn't torture out of a Hakumei ninja. There was no greater humiliation than to be an invalid ninja, unable to complete his duty. And now that day had arrived, even if for just a while.

"I see."

A short silence followed. Taka gave a sigh and asked,

"Who?"

"Skywalker"

Taka, third best tracker ninja in the eastern territories groaned in a 'why me?' manner. But he stayed silent, waiting for the words that would follow. The seemingly unflappable stance however, was bringing up unforgettable memories that scared the life out of Tetsuya. The raw fear brought from killing intent was nigh impossible to forget, especially for a rookie like Tetsuya, who knew about the true horrors in the world, but was still too young to actually understand what those horrors meant.

"He said that he was bored, that it was a spar. He also has a combat automaton with him. It looked like some kind of monstrous puppet. I was unable to even touch him or that spider he called "Sasori". He could have killed me at any time. He said I would be an interesting opponent in a few years."

Taka frowned.

"I see..."

Tetsuya however, found one detail that was odd. One thing that really didn't make sense.

"What are my injuries that require me to recuperate in this device?"

"It is not so much that you are on the brink of death as that this is the only method to get you in optimal condition in by the time school begins. You fought above your current limits and under normal circumstances, would have been confined to rest. However since we cannot afford to slip up in the mission, Hayate sama has authorized the use of the 'Dragon Tear Enclosure' for any injury that would otherwise incapacitate you for more than a day. "

Tetsuya gaped. 'this mission...it is more important than I ever imagined. I will not fail again!'

"Rest for now. Prepare a report when you are well. I will inform Takeda that you have awakened. If you make contact again, do not engage. Retreat at once. Unfortunately, you are far too inexperienced as of now. You're training will be advanced by Kenji next weekend. If possible, I will attempt to acquire a stealth unit to enter the castle. If the person shadowing you is indeed Skywalker, you might need an escort."

Taka turned and left, leaving the healing ninja behind him.

In another part of the forbidden forest, a different meeting was taking place. Through his idiotic minion Quirrel, Voldemort was now trying to set in motion a plan to steal the holy grail of alchemy, the philosophers stone. Immortality and unending wealth. Both would be his soon.

XXX

The Hogs Head, was generally known as the shadier of the pubs that served the populous of the village of Hogsmeade. Its caretaker was Aberforth Dumbledore, the partially estranged younger brother of Albus. The pub, despite its reputation, was not really a rotten place. But the reputation it possessed, kept both the ones who wished to hide in, and the children who might otherwise be tempted out. It also gave a watering hole to people who might otherwise end up in the company of impressionable children. Consequently, the pub existed at the sufferance of the ministry and the headmaster, the known devil of shady spots, but occasionally used for the same nonetheless.

This was part of the reason that Headmaster Dumbledore and "Mad-Eye" Moody were meeting at an unoccupied table next to the wall in Hogs Head. Not that it really mattered. The headmaster was polyjuiced into a near vagrant of a wizard, exactly the kind of seedy person found in a known to be seedy bar. After the obligatory display of (necessary) paranoia, the serious part began.

"What is the matter my friend? Why a sudden meeting?"

Dumbledore was a changed man. He looked dirty, and a charm ensured that was all that others would really remember, assuming they did not forget he existed.

"Its a very serious matter Albus. We don't know why, but as of two days ago, and I just verified this, a full platoon of ninja are operating in London. The ministry doesn't know, but Amelia may. She's a sharp one. As for the ninja themselves, I don't know for what or for why, but it can't be good."

Now, under normal circumstances to normal British magic users, the word ninja will not mean anything at all. Albus Dumbledore on the other hand was somewhat of a scholar and had heard stories.

He first heard of them in reference to the Russo-Japanese War (1904-1905). While the just concluded, the Sino-Japanese war had been assumed to have an almost zero magical component with only muggles involved. The eastern territories were united, of sorts. The war with Russia however, was a slaughter. There were rumours of a Russian warlock strike team, as they might be called today, that was sent to Japan for some reason. They disappeared. Later on, of the seventy nine warlocks deployed at Port Arthur for one reason or the other, not a single one ever returned to Russia. From what eyewitness reports and divinations gathered, they were all cut down one at a time,in the hour before the Japanese navy attacked. Within months, assassinations on prominent warlocks were almost hourly occurrences in the homeland, focused on Moscow, and St Petersburg, weakening the magical effectiveness of the Russian Royalty. The revolution was said to have succeeded in no small part because much of the magical chain of command had been wiped out and infighting had reduced them to a pathetic shell of the organized force the warlocks were. Even if the magicals on the communist side were communist as such, they were still motivated sufficiently to go for a magical coup alongside the revolution.

After that war, nobody attempted to poke whatever hornets nest there lay in the eastern territories. Even the very word 'ninja' would come out only later. Whatever the world thought of the traditional Priests or Onmyouji, unstoppable assassins was not it. On another note, in WW2, wizards did not even try to get Japan to enter the war. Long memories and the prospects of annihilation were very effective. Quite a few American wizards disappeared in 1946 though, in presumed retaliation for Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The Native shaman communities, however were untouched.

By the time the cold war started, the Magical Russia had begun to open up to the world, even as they disappeared from the minds of muggle Russians themselves. The stories began to grow. Demons. Shadows. Ghosts. Ruthless Killers. Immortal. These were just some of the qualities ascribed to the mythical ninja.

Eastern immigrants were tight lipped, and even truth serums would not loosen their tongues, at least for useful information.

However, there were some who were willing to speak, and what they said was far more frightening. Ninja seemed to be killers, a whole army of magical killers who, from birth to death lived to kill. Humans capable of taking on Chinese War mages one on one, and winning. It was the stuff fear was made of.

And now, years after any tangible news about them, real live ninja were in London of all places. Obviously it was not an assassination that was being plotted. If it was, they wouldn't have set up shop anywhere. The target would simply have been dead and done with.

This was far worse. If the ministry had any inkling of how dangerous these people were...

You wouldn't need a dark lord to destroy the wizarding world.

"Is there any clue about their objective?"

Moody shook his scarred head. The mans face clearly showed what he thought about the whole situation.

"That's not all though."

Albus Dumbledore wearily looked at his long time ally and comrade. He let out a near pitiful groan.

"There's more?"

"There's was a Dragon Boat floating over London."

Albus Dumbledore let forth a most dreadful curse. He whispered a furiously.

"Merlin! Are you telling me that the Chinese are involved now!"

Moody chuckled pitifully.

"Constant Vigilance! Pays of again... Again, I'm none too sure if the ministry knows. But what I am sure is that even if a whole battalion of their War Mages landed in force, those idiots would still think the world revolves around 'em."

Albus blinked.

"How did you find out? Neither the Department of Mysteries nor the DMLE has the resources to track or even detect those ships. Even you have heard of the rumour that the Chinese have managed to travel to the moon on those vessels. Imagine...to travel the great beyond in-"

Moody growled. Those eastern territories were problematic. To them, Voldemort was a spoiled little child. Even the so called great Dark Lord knew that. Not even Voldemort was fool enough to risk the wrath of the immortal emperor. There was a reason why people did not mention the east except in ignorance. An entire part of the planet, with -must-not-be-named notoriety with respect to those in the know. As for the rest of the people, well they were called sheep for a reason.

"It's a dark artefact, a mirror of sorts which can only detect those who intend to remain hidden. It spotted the ship as it flew right over my house."

Dragon Boats were the flying Battleships of the eastern Navies, the largest of which were the 400 feet long behemoths called Zheng-He. They were ships of the line, crewed by Merlin knew how many. There had never been a situation where the east and west had clashed spectacularly enough that these avatars of destruction had cause to ever be used. And now, one was in London.

"I'll need more firewhiskey ."

Albus calmly walked out of the pub with a detached air, his vagrant appearance disturbed by none. He was almost panicking. Even though he knew that an invasion was not likely(mostly because there was little that measly old England could offer them) his head was still wildly generating vague and what would have passed as comedic visions of destruction of wizardry. It was so bad he forgot about his precious lemon drops. At the moment, Voldemort resurrecting was preferable.

XXX

High above Diagon Alley, a few kilometres really, the Spirit Shadow lay motionless, as it simply ignored the powerful winds that buffeted the massive eighty meter or two hundred and sixty foot ship as it floated high above the commercial capital of Magical Britain. It was one of the few ships of the line serving the Kyoto Guard, the armed wing of magical Japan. Of course, the fact that its current mission was similar to that of a muggle AWAC aircraft was not known to anyone below. Not that this would have been reassuring, just that it was merely less violent for a ship of its class.

Unlike its muggle counterpart, magical Japan was not under any of the various treaties and policies that the United States imposed on Japan. World War II really had very little effect on the Eastern Territories. After the turn of the century, none of the western magical governments dared to look east. Grindelwald pushed his hardest against the Russians,confident of his victory over the by then 'quantity over quality' warlocks, but he dared not even approach China.

The magical world in China was not as out of order as the wizarding world. There was no 'hiding in plain sight' as the Wizards practised. Tall underground towers (well if they were overground it would have been a tower) dotted the country in a loose grid pattern. They were the Towers of Ignorance, Enormous anchor points that enshrouded the land in a matrix of mass proportions, one that made it impossible for the ordinary people to notice anything magical. There was no need of obliviators. Why obliviate when you can prevent the memory from happening in the first place? Even the Great Wall had a few, conveniently ignored by the Mongol horde who as fate would have it, did not have access to sorcery of any sorts.

All this meant that Eastern Territory had magically trained armed forces which had existed from long long ago. The navy, which was the Dragon Boats or airships of the land were an integral part of this. After the fiasco with rogue ninja, Japan had commissioned her own navy, with ships supplied by the immortal emperor. And unlike the wooden sail less junks they so resembled, the Dragon Boats were impressive vessels, that were still used more than occasionally in space. Magic was truly wonderful.

XXX

Hermione Granger was a Gryffindor. One of the most dedicated, rational and knowledge oriented individuals in perhaps all of history had been sorted into Gryffindor. Fate truly had a horrific sense of humour at times. The girl had wanted the red and gold, thanks in no part to the documented reputation of Dumbledore, and she had been granted that desire. But after a mere two weeks in class, she was quickly starting to become disillusioned.

When Hermione had first heard of the magical world, she was sceptical. When she was presented proof, she was ecstatic. A whole new world, filled with new things to learn, new things to know, a world away from the current one, which she somewhat despised. True, the books were great, but it had no meaning for her. For Hermione was a creature of pride. She revelled in the knowledge that she knew more than others, that she was better than them. But that was irrelevant when she discovered that her impressive knowledge only served to distance her away from her peers. They mocked her and she did not take it well. She withdrew into a shell. A rose cursed to never bloom.

The cruellest of creatures is the human child. Ignorant of consequences, they destroy lives.

And then the letter came. It was an opportunity. She did not hesitate. Her eleven year old brain had not comprehended the enormity of that decision at the time. Like a mouse, eager to escape her cage, she had pounced on her own escape. Her parents recognized and allowed this, for they wanted their daughter happy after all. But deep down, they knew that she was already lost to them, that they were just two middle class dentists, whose daughter had left them behind...

And now, Hermione wondered if it was not the old world but her that was at fault. She had not realized that the same thought processes that drove her into isolation in primary school would repeat its terrible history here also. And now, she was paying. Many a night were spent crying to sleep, a sorrow that only the truth could produce, that she was not liked. At all.

It was not like she was friendless from the very beginning. But when seawater is harder than your friend's spine, it quickly became meaningless.

It was at times like these that she prayed that someone would rescue her from the rut, that somebody out there would save her from this unseen hell, with flaming mockery and brimstone words. So what if she was a lot more grown up than the average eleven year old? She was allowed her share of the not too uncommon romantic fantasies. Sure, her physiology did not allow for the formation of...in depth dreams, but the whole story tale comes true type daydream had a certain charm to it. And given the fact that she had read those kind of books so very long ago, she literally dreamed about it.

But alas, her very imaginative scenarios about rescue, rescuer and love (of which she had no real clue about either) were doomed to die a tragic, tragic death, from starvation. Logic had asserted itself and two weeks after school had begun, she had closed up, again.

That is not to say that she and her careless tormentors ignored each other. No, she had hidden away her emotions and her dreams. She had turned into a machine, one which continued to be mocked. And it was the fact that it was her "family" as McGonogall had so offhandedly mentioned house mates as being, that were doing this that rankled. It was one thing when known bigots crushed her spirit. But when the "light" acted like the "dark", sad things happen.

Of course, what had been done against the poor girl were less than that she had suffered from primary school. But the stress and the pain, the dreams and crumbled expectations, they all gathered together and began to chip away at the normality of Hermione's psyche.

If she had any real distraction, or a sympathetic ear, if not a friend, she might have left this downward spiral of depressing logic that made sense to her and actually survived with her sanity somewhat intact. Alas, for in this world, she found that without some great and wondrous figure around to occupy the wasted time of the populace, a person to torment is quite the handy catch. And so they did it, all those shiny examples of pride and courage, a whole battalion of red and gold wearing demons who sought entertainment through the misery of others. Or at least her.

After a certain indeterminate point, when the realization that she was going to be forever alone finally sunk in, Hermione finally snapped. Dual personality syndrome doesn't just pop out of thin air after all. Especially not when the original personality committed seppuku.

In any case, this new Hermione found some very interesting things about herself. She was stronger, faster, more agile, or rather she was closer to using her bodies true ability. She was like the Hermione Jane Granger, only better. The Mr Hyde to the cremated Dr Jekyll. She was also more free to indulge, having lost most of her inhibitions, and all of her morals. Of course, born as she was from the near listless yet negativity seeped subconscious of Hermione, this personality had the urge to destroy. The idea of revenge, or at the extreme end, the vendetta was incredible. Schadenfreude was the name of the game. And following the pattern of all insanity, in the first moments after creation, she was already going through her mental list of targets...er..tormentors, the ones that were marked. True, she was not betrayed in any manner, but even the slightest of mental shifts can exaggerate the perceived slight to near cataclysmic proportions. And at eleven, that level of hatred can be spawned from something as simple and yet so terrible as bullying.

As the individual in question was a walking insanity plea, it is a good thing her first words were never heard or recorded. Gryffindor was going to be an interesting place to live in. Unless of course, your name happened to be Ronald Billius Weasley. Because, he was first on the cull without killing list. But just not yet. Even the insane take time to plot.

Of course, Hermione quickly mellowed out a bit. She was still quite rational, and did not really want to be mad. So she managed to restore her personality somewhat. Visible madness was just poor planning. So she reigned herself in, negating most of the insanity she had suffered, toning down her urges, her desires, her purpose. And from her third week she spent her time in between wandering the castle and the library. Both to occupy herself, and to gain data.

A week later, she hit the jackpot. She found a house elf, an average example of the species, Tiggy her name was, who Hermione began to keep company. A part of her railed against the injustice, the slavery, the inhumanity, but it was silenced before it started. In this world, there was her, and there was them. And Tiggy was not her.

In two days of random conversations, she practically had a minion. The elf was one of the innumerable servants of the castle. She was among the smaller ones there and was not allowed to work as much. It was a stain on her pride and honour. A house elf not allowed to work to her hearts content. Death was preferable to her humiliation.

Hermione suggested the elf worked for her. She needed help in her crusade, and the if the elf was it, she could save the creature without having to compromise her new world views. By the end of said third week, it was done. Dumbledore was positively delighted to free the elf. He had a very tiny idea that the elf was unhappy, and was glad to free her on the understanding that she was going to a place where her work would be appreciated. If one more creature was happier, so was he.

The fourth week of school was the clincher. The come and go room, the masterpiece of magical masonry. It was a treasure trove. It was a sanctuary. It was hers. Tiggy had even helped her to design a 'happy place' a natural setting that was designed to let her relax.

In her sanctuary, Hermione told the elf about her life, her past, her present and her plans for the future. And Tiggy was fully convinced that hers was the worthy mistress. She swore a magical oath to serve her mistress unquestionably till death. And Hermione swore her own oath to do right by her elf.

XXX

On the very Saturday that Harry and Tetsuya were doing their "spar", Hermione found something that would change her life. She had asked the elf to gather everything muggle in the room. And then she found 'it'. The thing did not react to the elf, but it did for her.

It was in the come and go room, specifically in the room of that which was hidden. The item in question was a revolver. Well, it certainly looked like a revolver. it might also have something to do with the fact that Hermione was thinking back to her collection of romantic westerns at the time. Except, this revolver was really just a very powerful artifact. A trinket left behind by a bored creature. A creature who in its native plain might as well have been an avatar of violence.

As soon as she touched it, she found herself in a void. A raspy voice asked her,

"What do you seek?"

Hermione, this Hermione responded without hesitation. But she also noted that her answers were far simpler and far more honest than she would have given...

"Vengeance"

"Who do you seek vengeance upon?"

"Them!"

The images of her tormentors flashed before her eyes. She knew she was being judged.

"Will you sacrifice?"

"Yes"

She felt odd. Something was happening. The idea wormed free that this was not exactly the best of ideas. A chant began to ring in her ears. It was a command and an invocation. She felt her body bend and buckle, but no scream rose from her throat yet. And then she was engulfed by light. Outside wherever her mistresses mind was, Tiggy saw a flash of light before she saw that her mistress had changed. Indeed, she was still her mistress, but she was not human, for whatever this was, it was not remotely human.

XXX

Harry Potter in the meantime was doing just about fine. He was not in pain. He did not have any overpowered S class, long tongued, cursed hickey giving shinobi out to get him and he was perfectly happy with the current progress on his too many bladed spider analogue named Sasori. True, he was totally stumped on how you were supposed to create a summoning contract, and for that matter what exactly he could summon(unicorns and faeries? Assuming he could find one of course...). But it was the thought that he wasn't completely wasting his time that counted.

The Monday after the Saturday melee, Harry had been pleasantly surprised to see his outmatched opponent walking around as if normal. True, there wasn't any evidence to suggest otherwise, but he had a feeling that the Japanese assassin would have been a little more sore than his current behavior seemed to suggest. Maybe magical healing was even more advanced than he had previously thought.

Overall, he was satisfied with his performance. True, he had stuck with basic kenjutsu, but he was reasonably skilled. Now he had to stick with his training and all would be well. Well that was the plan. Anyway, since his spar with Tetsuya was now officially dead and done with, he could go on to his main reason for spending time in the forbidden forest.

Acromantula were essentially giant spiders. However, whatever they started off as, magic had made them stronger, faster and as mentioned, bigger. Their venom was deadly mostly due to the magical aspects, but its neurotoxic component was pure evolution and chemistry. Acromantula silk was exceptionally tough and often used as in light duelling robes. The silk was also capable of being drawn to exceptionally strong and thin wires that showed the extremely incredible physical properties of the strongest normal spider silk, only here this property is seen at the macroscopic scale. With luck, he could finally have ninja wire of the quality he needed without having to delve into enchanting.

XXX

The next potions class provided a change from the dull monotony of daily magical education. Indeed, Hufflepuff was in special form, having no less than seven spectacular explosions in one double hour. The chaos was glorious. Harry could even understand Deidara for a moment.

Of course, magnificent art of destruction aside, Snape stated, almost spontaneously that "Potter, you have detention at six." No reason was given. Considering that by now he had an honor guard of about 5 clones now, he didn't let too much caution show in his behavior. So he did show up at six, with invisible escort crawling along the walls, all with a hand on blade.

Considering the dark and brooding man that was Severus Snape, his office matched him to a tee. Not surprisingly, there were plenty of potions ingredients. However, the lack of any cauldrons told harry that this man preferred his brewing in private. So he was a professional.

Snape was seated at his desk and looking at him with beady little eyes, somehow managing to convey disgust, annoyance and apathy all with that one look. This guy just had to be the real live version of Ibiki! Such indifferent malevolence! Harry wondered what dark and mysterious life had driven this man to achieve this command of body language.

On the other hand, what Snape, and Harry's somewhat focused clones saw was an eleven year old boy staring dreamily at Snape's rather expressive mug and giggling maniacally. Snape wondered what dark and mysterious life Dumbledore had arranged for the son of his nemesis that turned the boy into a mad prodigy. He was really beginning to wish that Potters were born to destroy him. The father, his life and the son, his...sanity.

"Potter! Do you know why you're here?"

Snape sneered at the boy, hoping to merlin that he would snap out of it. Indeed, with one last giggle, the boy had totally transformed, turning into the somewhat reclusive bookworm the rest of the world knew him as. But that knowing grin was quite literally spine chilling.

"No professor. I do not."

Snape looked at him and asked clearly,

"Were you in the forbidden forest this Saturday?"

Harry's left eyebrow rose to his hairline. It looked quite ridiculous on an eleven year old, but was a powerful expression none the less.

"No sir. Why do you ask sir?"

Well it was not that he had a reason, but that boy Lucius had brought in from the east was quite twitchy as he had mentioned his encounter with "semi hostile aggressive individual". And Snape had automatically blamed Potter so instinctively that he had felt the need to bring him in and question him without distraction.

However, while Potter had actually said no, the impression he got was a 'yes'. But that couldn't be it, could it? His instincts were telling him that Potter was in the forest on Saturday and that he had an excellent idea exactly why he was asking. Snape was a master of emotional control, and the feeling he got from the boy was quite disturbing, especially now that he had spent five minutes staring at the boy. Never had anyone felt so intimidating before. Dumbledore looked like a squib at the moment. He was half tempted to bow down to his lord. It almost made him believe that the rumours that the dark lord had possessed his last, attempted victims body. But no, this boy was more than anything that fool could have been. He was in the presence of greatness, one that he had taken a lot of pain to irritate. And even that gaze that held such madness...

The boy had spent the whole time staring at him, with an impassivity to match his own. It was unnerving, and told him the boy did not fear him. It was not that Snape was a particularly not scary person. There was no doubt that his death eater past was already a hushed whisper among the first years, his dark arts knowledge known to all. He was the most fearsome person in Hogwarts. But the boy did not care. What the boy possessed was the quite calm of knowing that nothing the other person could do would be a problem in any way. Absolute control. Just like the Dark Lord. Even if he suddenly tried to Avada Kedavra the Potter, he doubted that he would get a raised eyebrow, if that. That is, before Severus Snape became a disembowelled, dismembered and stain on the floor. And in that moment, Snape realized that Harry James Potter was a monster.

"It's nothing you have to worry about. I had to make sure that you weren't making trouble, just like your father! Now get out. Your detention is over!"

And with that, he was gone, bellowing cloak and all. Five minute later, he was safely ensconced in his private lab, nursing firewhiskey and contemplating his bitter lot in life. He did not hate Harry Potter. He feared him. That Potter boy obviously had something to do with the Lucius's pet ninja. And that fool had no idea what he was playing with either. This was all one big mess. And if Harry Potter ever found out that he was the one responsible for his getting orphaned... He took another long gulp. Nursing a drink was for sissies anyway

XXX

Harry Potter did not know what had just happened, but he was sure that the professor had made one conclusion or the other. It could not be helped. Only time would tell what this would lead to, but it was troublesome none the less. At least he had gotten one peace of useful information. Snape hated his father, and probably by proxy, him. At least he hadn't reached death threats or assassination attempts, so there was still hope.

What was interesting was how the whole thing had ended. Snape was somewhat flustered. Either an unexpected magical communication, perhaps an alarm or so, or an unpleasant epiphany. If it was the latter, this could complicate things. Harry let loose a tired groan. He slipped into his adopted language and mumbled.

"Mendokuse..."

XXX

A/N: Hello again!

Even more back story, but its my ties into my explanation of why nothing of the sort is seen in canon.

Basically, China and Japan are seen as the big bad and are carefully avoided. The only reason they appear is because some old lady made a prophesy. Go figure.

Don't know how I did the fight scene, but I've tried my best. I'm not going to bother with extremely complicated word choreography because 1. I suck at it, and 2. Reading which body part strikes which is not going to advance my story at all. I apologise if I disappointed any true believers.

The fight with the puppet is a case of one against many. Harry basically used many clones to offset the advantage of actual ninja training for the first field trial of his weapon. Later he will get better. And Harry himself is slightly better because all he did was train to fight. Tetsuya would have trained to be many many things, and would have had to learn languages, customs, and a whole lot of crap Harry cannot possibly imagine.

Dumbles is gonna get skittish. All that stress cannot be good for him. Mad eye is plain paranoid, except its real this time. If anybody had the equipment to detect advanced magical cloaking, its him.

I wanted to show the existance of a magical community that didn't sit on its butt for the last 500-1000 years. So I made one up. In here, china is the superpower. They've gone to space. They have flying batlleships, cloaking devices(well magic) and a whole bunch of toys the western world has never seen. Not going to affect the plot tooo much.

Oh yeah. Crazy Hermione. Because there's not enough crazy in this world. Hermione is not a love interest. Frankly, it amazes me how so many people can imagine that eleven is a perfectly acceptable age for romancing and going all mushy. Seriously! Eleven? What's next, babies having candle light dinners?

So to reiterate: no mushies, not anytime soon anyway. I'm not too big on slash either, so no Harry/Tetsuya either.

There are no real good or evil sides here, except for voldie, who is the 'just plain evil' stereotype, and then the crazies. All of these people are trying to protect and advance their own interests in various ways. And their alliances and hostilities will shift with time, depending on the situation.