Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor the Mangekyo Sharingan

Check out my newest fic, a Naruto/Claymore crossover at www. fanfiction. net /s/ 7094463

Mangekyo

Professor Lupin's class was quickly becoming one of his favorites. Harry didn't know if it was because the man seemed to treat everyone, regardless of House, with a kind of geniality that many of the other teachers lacked, or if it was because he was competent, unlike the other two samples.

Unfortunately, Harry wasn't sure that he, too, wasn't possessed. There was a cloud of snapping silver magic surrounding him, jumping all over him. If Harry had to describe it, he would call it feral.

"Today, class, we'll be looking at Boggarts. Who can tell me what a Boggart is? Ms. Granger?"

"A Boggart is a creature that has the ability to show us our worse fears. They are generally found in dark places like closets, and attics, and can be defeated by laughter."

"Five points to Gryffindor, Ms. Granger. Now, step lively!" Lupin said rather energetically, as he threw a trunk open.

A formless mist (coated in magic) poured out of it, and fired strands of sickly yellow magic at them. Harry frowned, snapping the single strand that darted towards him easily.

The others weren't so able. The strands wrapped around people like a turban, and squeezed. What could only be memories and emotions travelled back to the Boggart as if it were drinking from them.

Harry decided that the creature must not be very dangerous if Lupin was exposing them to the Boggart, but he still did not allow the creature's mind-based attack to reach him. His classmates seemed to be oblivious to what was truly occurring.

Suddenly, the previously formless mist took the shape of a huge spider. Harry could see the obvious signs of a magical construct - the edges were blurry, and when he closed his left eye, it was spectral in appearance. Anyone with sufficient depth perception could see that it wasn't really a spider at all.

That didn't keep Ronald Weasley from screaming loudly, and hugging himself, looking very small indeed, on the ground.

Harry shrugged. While Ronald Weasley was the perfect example of what a man wasn't, he supposed that having your greatest fear confront you must be harrowing indeed.

"Now, with the use of the spell Riddikulus while thinking of something funny will result in the boggart assuming such a form."

Harry raised his eyebrows as Hermione jumped forward eager. The coil around her mind tightened, and he watched mildly horrified.

The boggart morphed into him and Daphne. He was on the ground, looking a bit older, without a shirt on, with a fist sized hole in his shoulder, and blood was pouring out of his eyes. Daphne's face was white, and she was glaring at Hermione.

"It's your fault, isn't it! If you'd just trusted him a bit more, if you'd just trust me a bit more, this wouldn't have happened", not-Daphne shouted.

Hermione gave a choked sob and sank to her knees. "I'm s-so sorry Harry", she said, completely oblivious to the fact that the real Harry was no more than three meters away from her.

"Sorry isn't good enough. Now he's-" Daphne turned her stormy eyes down to the figure of not-Harry. "He's-"

Not-Daphne gave a wailing cry. "He's dead." Daphne pulled the not-Crimson Ruby that hadn't existed until she reached for it, and charged at Hermione, whose head was bowed, prepared to meet her death.

"That's quite enough", Harry said, putting himself between the illusion and Hermione, snapping the hundreds of web-like protrusions between Hermione and the boggart, and letting a strand touch his head.

He lowered his Occulmency shields (which Hermione must have also done). Despite their flimsiness, they had been easily keeping the Boggart out.

The boggart morphed into a very familiar little Fae girl.

She smiled rather cruelly at him.

"As to your debt, Harry, for the price of Eternity, you will", she leaned forward conspiratorially, and her voice dropped to a loud, malicious whisper. "You will serve me. Your first order is to kill them both."

Harry's eyes widened, and he narrowed his eyes. Before he could stop himself, he had cloven the boggart in twain with the Crimson Ruby, splitting the creature in half, and snapping the connection it had to him. It became formless mist once again.

He stepped back, scooping Hermione up and carrying her bridal-style, with the back of her head against the crook of his elbow. "That's quite enough excitement for me, Professor. Would you mind if I brought her to the hospital wing?"

"S-sure, Mr. Potter", Lupin said, feeling as if he were intruding on a private moment between two of his students. He steeled himself, regaining the majority of his authority. "Get her to Madame Pomfrey."

Harry walked slowly through the empty corridors, carrying the relatively light girl.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I don't mean to be a burden and-"

"Shhh. You're not a burden, Hermione. If you're quiet, you can hear the sound of my devotion to you." Harry smiled sheepishly.

Hermione shifted slightly, a happy smile on her face.

Mangekyo

"There's nothing wrong with her, is there?" Daphne wondered.

"Not that Madame Pomfrey can see, but she's still going to be in the hospital wing for a day."

"I've begun the task of steeping the cut up Gurdyroot in a tincture. It'll be ready within three months. Then we can begin the distillation process."

"Do you think we can speed it up by adding heat?"

"No. I actually tried it, and it became rather acidic. It's a real shame." Daphne took a breath, and pushed her hair out of her eyes. "How's your shoulder?"

"Not much better", Harry said gruffly.

"I'll get some painkillers for you from Madame Pomfrey", Daphne said, giving him a hug, which was more of a grope than anything, and a kiss on the cheek. Harry felt his face heat up despite himself. She walked out of the room quickly, quite embarrassed herself.

Harry stared at the hilt of the Crimson Ruby when he suddenly heard a voice behind him.

"I'm not here to collect yet, but I'm supposed to warn you three times before I do so. So here's the first warning."

Harry didn't even turn around. "Hello. How are you doing? My three months have been quite uneventful. I've read more in-depth stuff about early Magical British History, and learned about the exploits of the Black family. The trust is there if I want to heal my arm, but the power isn't."

"Would you like me to heal your arm?"

"What would the price be?" Harry asked, finally looking into the Fae girl's eyes. They were, as the Healer said, old eyes. Old did not begin to cover how much experience, benevolence and malice were hidden in the depths of the violet orbs.

"Your soul, of course", she replied, giggling softly.

"You have my soul already", Harry said, without a trace of humor.

"That's not entirely true. I can't compel you to do something that you really shouldn't, like kill your Daphne, or your Hermione. Unless you want me to heal your shoulder?" she asked.

Harry shook his head again. "What are you here to warn me about?"

"Oh, the nature of your debt. In a year and a day from when I gave you the Eyes of Eternity, I will come to collect."

"Is that all of the warning?"

"Oh yes. The next warning will be a bit more specific, and the third one will be equivalent to what you call a briefing."

"Why don't you brief me now?" Harry asked, feeling rather nonplussed.

"Oh, but what's the fun in that?" the Fae girl said, leaping gently into Harry's lap, and looking up in his eyes. She ran her hand over the right side of his face. "You're so brave..."

Harry narrowed his eyes on principle, though he didn't feel threatened in the slightest. That wasn't good - it meant he was possibly in a lot of danger.

"You would make a good human lover, wouldn't you?" the Fae girl continued.

Harry's eyes widened in alarm, and he blinked rapidly.

"Now, I won't use the debt for that, even though I can, of course. I can have you stay with me forever, but..." the Fae girl sighed, "there's more than one prophecy about you. You should feel honored. You're really, really special."

Of course, Harry knew that he was special, but he wasn't aware of the other things. "What prophecies?"

"Oh, there's one major one, and two or three very minor ones. They're not actually world-splitting, ocean-roiling, or even that important. They're very vague, meaning they might not happen at all. But there are strands of gold in the weave, meaning that anyone who interferes too much will come to a sticky end."

"But what do they say?" Harry wondered.

"I could tell you for a price", she said, smirking slightly.

"No thank you", Harry responded rather immediately.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay with me for all of eternity after you're done fulfilling whatever needs to be done?" the Fae girl said. "I can show you beauty that no mortals have ever encountered. I can give you power beyond your wildest imagination. I can give you pleasure", her voice dropped to a whisper, "pleasure that no one should ever experience, for the fear of going mad."

Harry shivered, his mouth dry in fright or something else. "I-I don't know whether that's a good idea-"

"No matter. I didn't expect you to agree so easy anyway. That would make you dumb. And I don't like dumb toys."

The Faerie disappeared, and crushing weight of the world came back.

"Powerful..." he whispered.

"What did you say?" Daphne asked, wandering back into the room with a small vial of what must have been a weak painkiller.

"Nothing", Harry said distractedly, as he downed the painkiller and went back to reading about Britain in Five hundred A.D.