Warning(s): alternative universe, language.
Fandom(s): Harry Potter/Naruto
from the effin peanut gallery
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The day started as predictable as the rest of Harry's life – but with extra shattering glasses and ear-deafening screams flavors.
"Salazar's seventh sac," he groaned into his spit-filled pillow, but reluctantly dragged himself up.
The room he rented yesterday was in a pretty shady area, but he wasn't picky about where his ass slept as long as they were willing to accept his money. His shifty bloke-recently liberated money (and Harry's sure he deserved it, with the way he was eyeing him) because he sure as hell not showing his freaking golden Galleons or pounds circa 2005 in whichever backwater place he got landed in.
That will get him strapped on a flaming lumber before he could say 'wizard'.
Harry dragged his feet to the Merlin-awful racket below his discolored window, and leaned heavily on the railing while peering down with sleep-weighted eyes.
"… the heck."
Two weirdos were going at it downstairs, one's in a green monstrosity and the other seems to be aggressively fulfilling his teenage dreams with whacky ninja outfit.
Harry was not awake enough for this shit.
He firmly closed the window, then went and burrowed deeply in his probably bug-filled bed.
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His afternoon(?) stated much better.
Harry got up somewhere around pm, his shower was icy cold with barely-sputtering drops, took off his travel-soiled robes and undersuit then changed into semi-clean pants and shirt he purchased yesterday from a half-blind hag who was clearly aiming to swindle him. No way that frayed set worth five bronze coins – even if he was utterly unfamiliar with the currency, some things are just universal – and besides, they had suspicious brown spots and he wasn't too keen on knowing their source.
After Harry half-heartedly rearranged his bedsheets, he snatched his wand from under the pillow and left the dingy room.
Downstairs was loud.
No, not all the place, just seemingly one annoyingly loud voice that had no business being this freaking loud at – Harry chanced a look at the cracked clock in the hallway – 1:27 pm? Harry blinked, the shock of a new world must have totally whacked him, he normally wakes around perfectly respectable hours, like 10 am.
The bar slash restaurant slash casino he stumbled into yesterday was half-crowded, with most of the people hunched over their drinks, food or money, so no one really paid much attention to the obviously foreign-looking man in their midst.
The barmaid slash landlady was scowling murderously at – and Harry blinked again, he thought he was honest to Merlin dreaming – a green.. man.
A man. Wearing awfully tight green..Thing.
Right.
Harry took a seat and unleashed his best smile at the woman when she whipped her head to look at him, her fingers dangerously caressing a sharply gleaming knife. "Lunch, if you please."
Her eyes lost the crazed edges in them, and another gleam entered. "Yer the foreigner, slept tight, eh?"
His eyes avoided looking at the.. man. "Tight enough."
She bared her teeth in a smile, it wasn't pretty, but she turned to fix something for him, so he was grateful.
"Say, my friend! You do possess rather YOUTHFUL eyes; do you hail from Kusagakure?"
What.
The green man was talking to him, apparently, and that was either a lame pickup line or a secret code.
Youthful. What.
Harry ignored him.
"Say, my friend!"
Harry's sure as hell not anybody's friend here, so he continued to ignore him.
"It's most UNYOUTHFUL to not respond! It Dismays my heart and Soul, I only wish to know of your origins, surely that will not herald a Beautiful friendship?"
He had no words.
Harry usually has a lot of words, profanity-type of words to shut his aggravators up, but now.. he is honest to Merlin shocked into silence.
And as usual, Harry can't ignore his Merlin-damned curiosity, which always lands him in Potter-particular situations.
He turned in his seat to look.
And he stared.
And stared.
"Okay, first of all, what the heck?" Harry didn't mean to let that slip out, but he might as well resume before those shiny teeth blinded him. "Bowel cut and thick eyebrows I might understand as a fashion statement, but that -"
He waved wildly at the greenness.
"- that, why?"
The barmaid-landlady set his plate soundly in front of him. "Don't ye ask 'im, boy. Those folk from Fire, bunch of cuckoos, the lot of 'em."
Harry doesn't know what's special about fires here, but as long as they aren't lighting one for him he's peachy. "Right, thanks."
He dug into his pockets and dropped two coins in her wrinkled hand, before digging in.
The Green man was still talking, but thankfully not to him.
"Now my lady, that's most Unjustful, to label whole people as such! Why, I know my Eternal Rival would say that's not true at all!"
Well, at least he's not denying he's nutters.
Harry ignored the scathing look the woman shot him as he deftly grabbed his plate and went in the corner, squeezing in between shifty and smelly blokes who grumbled at him but quieted and made space for him when he desperately pointed at the Green man, awfully good folks.
He's even willing to ignore the blatantly stolen goods spread on the table for their act of kindness.
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note: was supposed to study for mid but wrote this instead. will probably upload a full fic of this later. probably. after i graduate from uni. like 2 months later. u know me & my promises. so, probably.
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