Author's Note: Hello everyone, it's been a very long time since I last wrote anything on here or even any story at all, but I hope you enjoy this new story. Many of you may wonder why I decided to create this story and be honest, I have no idea. I had been just lying in bed reading Basilisk-Born for the third time when I got the idea to Merge these two worlds in a way that made sense and still left me a way to add some classic shenanigans from Ranma 1/2. This story will be a long one. Longer than any of my other stories, most of which have been forcefully deleted, but I plan to revise them eventually. Like many of my stories, this is a TRANSharry story, but I want to actually go in-depth with it this time and not just gloss over issues or make everything your typical reactionary story. No, I want to go further than this, so much so that I hope any of you readers will feel genuinely connected to our favourite green-eyed Magical. These chapters will likely be around 7k to 10k in word length each, so not too big but decent for your average reader. Both Ranma and Harry will be AU, and while they have lived the same events as their Canon characters, their take on them was much different. And in this story, there will be Homophobia, Transphobia, General Bigotry, Angsty teen, and lots of embarrassment for our favourite Redheaded Duo. You will hate me and cry with me at others, but together I hope you enjoy this new reality I bring into creation. Please leave comments and suggestions for the story in the comments; I love to hear your thoughts on events and how I could take the story in the future. If you'd like to DM, please do so but keep in mind that I do have work outside of this, so I may not get to you right away.

My plan for this story is relatively simple. Every Saturday, I will do my absolute best to upload a chapter or two for your enjoyment. I know it won't seem like much, but it's what I can do. I am looking for a beta, so if you're interested, please let me know.

Disclaimer: I do not own nor take any form of payment for Harry Potter or the Ranma 1/2 franchises. If I did, it would have paired Harry with Hermione and Ranma with Ryoga.

As he ran through the dank underground passageways of Little Whinging, shivers rolled down his spine. Each huff he drew into his lungs lingered for but a moment before a puff of air passed through his lips. Yet, it was the memories that stubbornly clung to the recesses of his mind that got to him the most. From his mother's pleading cries as she warded off the Dark Lord to the flash of green that encompasses his entire world, the images and sounds remained at the forefront of his mind. The dying screams as her body crashed into the hard floor beneath her echoed deep within his very soul, and the pain in his forehead flared as the world turned green once more and the room exploded all around him.

Flashes of the underground room, deep underneath Fluffy's den, roared through his mind as fire encompassed the room. The feeling of flesh bubbling under his palms -as if he was melting it with dragon fire- as its stench of charred meat seared itself into his nose for all eternity. His ears felt like they were bleeding under the screams of the man's voice as it rose so high, cracks start to spread across the mirror surface.

The soft echoes of scales grinding across the cold stone and Tom Riddle maniacal laughter as it bounced through the pipes in the bowels of Hogwarts. His stomach was churning at the sound of Fawkes talons ripping the basilisk eyes from their sockets. The icy cold pain flowed through his body as the great serpent's fang pierced his skin, pumping venom into his veins as the warm blood poured down his arm from where he stabbed the Basilisk in the roof of its mouth. And, as his world started to fade into a void of blackness, he could still remember the feeling of warm tears falling upon his wound, making their way through his body to hold the Basilisk venom at bay.

The fear that held his heart as he flipped and spun through the air, his hair matted to his face under torrential rain that fell upon him. Weaving between a horde of Dementors as they swarmed him as he was chasing the Snitch through the dark clouds above the Quidditch pitch. The bile was rising into his mouth as he heard the harsh snapping sound of Professor Lupin's bones and primal howls under the rays of the Full moonlight.

The betrayal struck his heart when Ron turned away from him as his name came out of the Goblet of fire. The hours he spent stressing over each task, trying to find a way just to stay alive. The ache that he still felt in his shoulder from when that Hungarian Horntail's tale spike had impaled him just as he was about to get away with the Golden Egg. The terror as he was forced to swim for over an hour in the Black Lake, the feeling of drowning as the Gillyweed finally started to wear off during his ascension to the surface. And the despair that wracked his soul as he was forced to watch Cedric drop to the earth with a blank stare as his life was snuffed out. Finally, the rage enveloped his mind when Voldemort regained a body and tortured him before those Death Eaters.

Feeling tears start to well up in his eyes, Harry forced himself to ignore the memories, even though it was becoming more difficult as the seconds ticked on by.

Rounding a corner, Harry didn't even get to react before a cold, clammy hand wrapped around his throat and practically smashes him into the concrete wall. There was a cracking sound in his ears, and pain blossomed across the back of his head. He could feel something trickling down his neck, matting his shirt to his back, but there wasn't anything he could do about it right now.

With his glasses hanging halfway off his face, all Harry could see was the dark shadowed blur of the Dark Creature before him. Its breath came out as hollow, and for a second, he wondered if Dementors were simply physical manifestations of death or the result of a tortured soul that had been forced into a dead body.

As the creature's head came closer to him, he choked as the fingers tightened even more around his throat, nearly crushing his windpipe. But that was nothing compared to the feeling of something deep inside of him being tugged at by the Shadowed being before him.

Before whatever it was that the Dementor was trying to take was ripped from his body, the entire passageway was enveloped in a bright silver light. There was a screaming sound coming from the Dementor, and the whoosh of displaced air as it flew away was all he heard for a moment after he was dropped unceremoniously to the hard-earthen floor.

His mind was foggy, and his chest felt like someone had been attempting to rip his heart out with a dull spoon, but he was at least coherent enough to notice the sound of someone walking down the passageway that he had come from earlier.

The soft tapping of heels filled his ears, and for a moment, fear fluttered through him. He tried to find his wand with his hands, but after a few failed swipes at the ground around him, he knew he wouldn't find it.

"Be still, child; I'm not going to harm you." A female voice spoke up as the soft clicking of her shoes came to a stop no less than a meter away from him.

Gulping, Harry could only stare blankly at the blurred figure before him. Even without his glasses, he could see that she was female and had what looked like Bloodred hair. He stiffened when she pulled out something the size of a frying pan.

"Are you sure that the only way to save the boy is to use that?" a second voice spoke with clear venom in his voice, making Harry flinch at the sudden appearance of the tall man beside his savor. Harry wondered if the man had been able to teleport through some form of magic right next to the woman silently, or maybe he used some invisibility spell because it was weird to see someone appear out of nowhere like it was nothing.

"Yes…I knew it the moment the Grandmaster accidentally used it on us a decade ago."

Her voice was calm, almost alluring, to his ears, and while he could hear the man grumble in another language, he felt his heart and mind start to settle down from all the turbulent emotions he'd felt since Dudley chased him from the park, not too long ago.

Slow, he watched as the woman knelt before him and placed her hand gently against the side of his face, cupping his jaw ever so softly. His breath hitched, and small trails of tears started to fall from his eyes, but he couldn't find it within himself to say anything, only watch.

Her thumb ran across his cheek, gathering the tears that rolled down his skin before pulling her hand back entirely. Harry almost let his head move forward in an attempt to go with the hand that was caressing him so gently, almost motherly, but forced himself to lean back against the cold, damp concrete.

And he watched.

She watched him as she turned her hand downward, letting the tears that had gathered upon her finger roll down to the tip before letting it drop down upon the surface of the frying pan-shaped object.

And in an instant, like she cast a spell upon its surface, it started to glow in a dazzling teal colour.

Although, when she turned the surface in his direction, his vision cleared for a quick second, letting him get a clear picture of the woman that stood before him.

She was shorter than him by about five centimetres if he ignored the heels that she wore. Her face was oval-shaped, with slightly high cheekbones, thick lashes, and a soft pair of lips that were glistening without a hint of lipstick. But her eyes, they were what drew his attention the most. They weren't overly big but definitely was the main feature that drew her to people's attention. They were green, like his own, but her pupils were slightly vertical like a snake's. And to him, they radiated kindness.

He didn't pay much attention to the rest of her appearance, mostly because it was utterly casual in taste. A simply pair of what looked like knee-high heeled boots, a pair of blue jeans underneath, and a black and silver rocker-type T-shirt. She wasn't even wearing a coat to go over it to ward off the chill that filled the august air.

She smiled at him; it was warm but also slightly pained.

"It's time, child."

Those were the last words he heard before his entire world was enveloped in a flash of blinding teal light.

Sitting upon the small cluster of rocks outside of the Jusenkyo Guide's little hut, Ranma couldn't help but glare out at the rising sun as it finally broke beyond the horizon that was formed by the Cursed Springs. With the sun's rays hitting the water, the vapor in the air formed dozens of little rainbows, giving the area an image of peace, but he knew it was a lie.

Jusenkyo would never be a place of peace for him.

Not after he fell into that stupid Spring of Drowned Girl.

The only upside was that his Old Man fell into a spring of his own. Ranma couldn't have picked a more appropriate spring for the Idiot to fall into either. After all, the man was already very similar to a Panda when in human form.

Huffing to himself, Ranma pulled at his pigtail. It was a small tick that he'd picked up after he accidentally ate that especially curry about a month ago. Luckily for him, the man had a spare Dragon Whisker, and his daughter had been willing to show him how to put his now long hair into a pigtail, or he'd be utterly bald by now.

He still remembered to anger in his father's eyes when Ranma's hair started to grow before their eyes rapidly. Still, the younger martial artist could easily ignore the man's barbs at his 'girly' looks due to having his hair in that style.

Although it really didn't have anything on the barbs, the man would be throwing at him now. The hair was one thing, but now, thanks to that damn curse, he actually had a girl's body to boot. The only upside that he could think of was that the Old Man couldn't make him marry another guy while in that form.

He wouldn't put it past him to try though; it just wouldn't work because most countries still outlawed homosexual marriage. So dating was sort of a grey area, but the actual marriage was illegal, not that he was attracted to men in that way; it was just something that the Guide had mentioned to him after Ranma finally calmed down the day before.

Shaking his head, Ranma let his mind wander back to the present.

Later today, the pair were supposed to be leaving to this Amazon Village in hopes of finding a cure for their curses. But for now, he was thankfully being left to himself while his father waited for some water to boil to return to his human form. He truly was thankful that the guide let him change back first or who knew how long he would be stuck in his female form, especially when his father tended to hit him with cold water all the time. With the curse, he could only hope that the Old Man would realize that it wasn't a good idea to do that anymore.

Time seemed to tick by for him as he sat there on that rock and watched the skyline.

Seconds into minutes.

Minutes into hours.

And when the sun had finally lifted far enough into the sky where it could actually be called morning, Ranma saw something that would unknowingly change his life for the better.

Far into the Pools of Sorrow, a bright flash of blue coloured light filled the sky only to be broken by the body of someone falling towards the pools below.

Ranma didn't even stop to think about what he was doing. All he saw was somebody falling towards the earth, who might be hurt, and about to be cursed. So, he did the only thing that a Martial Artist could do.

He ran after them.

Toes digging into the soft earth, he leaped from spring to spring, trying to get to the person before the inevitable happened. And as he grew closer, he could hear the person screaming. It was sort of low but still high enough to be confusing, unlike his own voice. But it really didn't matter to him, this kid needed his help, and that was all that mattered.

Seeing that he wasn't going to make it, Ranma dived for the falling kid.

There was a rush of air around him for a small second before he collided with the other kid. His arms reached around their skinny torso, clutching them so that Ranma would take the brunt of the fall. Absently, he noted that blood was running down the kid's back, but his attention to that detail was ruined when his own back smashed into the cold, unforgiving waters of a cursed spring.

Ranma's only thought as they were dragged under the water's surface was fear that somehow, this spring wouldn't be worse than his girl curse.

And before he noticed, his body morphed into its much smaller, although also larger in the hips and bust, form.

What was happening within the cursed spring was a phenomenon of never-before-seen circumstances to the world around them.

This Spring itself was cursed with the form of a Lamia, a half-human/half-snake, made from the death of a child of the age of seven that had accidentally wandered off from their mother and sadly lost her life in the middle of winter when she fell through the ice that had covered to previously uncursed spring.

This in itself was bad enough due to the slightly different Biology between Humans that had entered it and the Lamia that had died there. However, on this day, the curse was forever changed to something slightly different.

With the inclusion of Ranma, the magics of Jusenkyo took the influence of his human female form and added it to the human aspects of the young Lamia, unknowingly changing their forms to half-snake to that of someone with only minor serpent aesthetics.

That, however, wasn't the end of the twisted magic that occurred deep within the springs.

Although he was unconscious at the time, Harry Potter's magic reacted by using his own blood, and with the aid of Jusenkyo's own natural magic as a conduit, it too warped the magic even more than it already was.

With the Basilisk Venom still trapped within the Wizard's blood, his magic used it as a base to rewrite the genetics of the common non-magical snake that was a part of the Young Lamia's DNA. And with the Phoenix tears, it stabilized the new Lamia breed so that its genetics wouldn't break down and incidentally kill its new holders.

But that wasn't the only change that Harry's magic had been able to enact.

Unknown to most Wizards and Witches, the only people who can become Animagi are those who have the trait passed down from their ancestors. For those that don't have any magical heritage, it's simply a gift from Magic itself, in hopes of reigniting the ability in its other descendants. Also, to reunite its holders with nature.

Magic wasn't a Right to Wizards and Witches.

It is a Gift.

But it had the ability to decide if a Human child would carry on its gift.

And with the Animagus ability reignited in Harry's blood due to his father, it used him as a conduit to change this one spring's curse. From originally being forced into their other form by applying warm and cold water to the cursed individual having to make the conscious choice of shifting from one to another.

But this wouldn't be an instant change in the Jusenkyo Curse; the host's body would have to adapt to the Curse, and then, it would eventually become a conscious ability to shift between forms. It is similar, yet different, to how a Wizard or Witch would have to continue contacting the Inner Animal to gain its form eventually.

And maybe, just maybe, if they were lucky, their forms might merge into one simple form but with small aspects of each. However, neither Magic nor Jusenkyo planned for such a thing to happen anywhere in the distant future.

With one last flash of multicoloured light, the revamped Lamia spring settled down just as a slightly tanned hand burst through the surface and dug its fingers into the earth before proceeding to drag its owner to the surface.

Pulling himself and his unconscious companion up onto the shore, Ranma fell to his hands and knees as he sputtered and coughed up what felt like a litre of water out of his lungs. It hurt like hell, and his face was probably as red as his hair at the moment, but he didn't care.

Gasping for air, he found himself looking over at the kid he had been able to save.

Beyond the overly-large clothes that covered them and the slowly rising chest as they took in air, Ranma noted that they had red hair just like him. Although he was a bright red that looked like a neon sign, this person's hair was nearly bloodred with a few wisps of a light copper highlighted throughout it. It was also amazingly short for a girl, or at least it was for all the girls that he had met in his life, which wasn't that many, but it was enough. It fell in soft little waves, but it barely even went past their ears.

Shuffling over on his knees, he took time to examine his charge physically.

Their body was skinny, unhealthily so, to the point where Ranma could actually see the edges of their bones, even underneath their shirt. From running his fingers along their ribs, he could tell that thankfully none of their ribs had been broken, but they were bound to be fragile either way.

Running his hands down their arm, he worried over how pasty their skin was, almost like chalk. He could see most of their veins through their skin, and there was almost no muscle or even fat on them. However, there was a rough and jagged scar along the inside of their forearm. He couldn't keep himself from wincing at the sight, but he just filed it away for when they woke up.

When he reached their hands, he had to stare in wonder at what he saw.

On an average person, they had regular-looking nails, and this person didn't have such things. In fact, their nails were glossy pitch black and felt unnaturally smooth. But what really amazed him was the small patches of Forest Green scales in the greaves between each of their fingers.

It was when he was spreading his charges fingers that he noted something about his own hands.

Where they once were normal-looking hands, they were now bearing a similar appearance to his charges. However, while their nails were a similar black colour, the greaves between his fingers were the same shade as a clear blue sky. But, he had to admit, they were kind of neat, and as long as he kept them from his Old Man, then he wouldn't get any flack for it.

Speaking of his Old Man, it was strange that he hadn't come looking for him yet. He had to have changed back by now, at least.

Those thoughts, however, were pushed out of his mind when his redheaded charge groaned.

It was slow going, especially at first, as the redhead seemed only just to be coming to wakefulness, but as the second ticked by, Ranma watched as their body started to stir truly. And before he knew it, he found himself looking into a pair of tired slitted green eyes.

For a second, neither of them did anything. That is until Ranma had to ask what was on his mind.

"What's ya name?"

Pain.

The pain was all Harry could feel.

From the tips of his toes all the way to the back of his head. Even his eyes hurt, and he hadn't even opened them yet. His chest still hurt from whatever the dementor did to him.

To make it even worse, he felt as weak as a baby kitten. And he was cold, like he had taken a bath in the Black Lake but forgot to get out.

Then there was the feeling of fingers roaming along his ribs. It felt weird, especially when he felt them dip inward as if he was super skinny. Of course, it was years ago, but Harry did remember when he was obscenely skinny as a child, but he remembered getting better eventually.

Harry let out abated breath when the fingers finally left his ribs and trailed their way down his arm. But it quickly hitched in his throat again when those fingers trailed up and down the scar on his inner arm. As the fingers trailed it, again and again, Harry could feel his stomach starting to twist in on itself.

Thankfully, before he got sick all over himself, the stranger moved down to his hand.

It felt weird to Harry to have someone spend so much time, just turning his hand back and forth or just looking over his fingers. But they must have had a reason for doing so, or they wouldn't have been doing it.

At one point during the inspection of his fingers, he felt his…companion…tense for only a moment before relaxing as it had never happened. It made Harry want to blink if he could work up the energy even to open them in the first place.

Finally, having enough of the weird inspection, Harry forced a groan out of himself. It sounded painful, even to his own ears, but he did his best to ignore it and did his best to try and open his eyes. Unconsciously, he felt his body shift, especially his shoulders and what he was pretty sure was his torso. But eventually, he did manage to get his eyes open.

And what he saw was not what he expected.

It was a girl, with hair similar to the woman that had been in the Passageway with that Tall grouchy man, but it was a hundred times brighter. She was rather pretty with innocent-looking sky-blue eyes, but the slitted pupils made him think of Voldemort. Not in an evil way, just similar.

She was dressed in a simply dirty white training outfit that Martial Artists wear, but it looked like it was way too big on her, like it was her older brothers or something. And with her leaning forward like that, Harry couldn't help but notice that her breasts were definitely on the large side and only a second from falling out of her top.

If Professor McGonagall, or even Hermione, had seen this girl, they would have a conniption at her lack of feminine modesty.

Making his eyes go back up to her slitted blue eyes, he could only blink when she started to talk.

"Name wa nanidesu ka?"

He opened his mouth as if to talk, but he could only let it close again with nothing but empty air coming out.

The girl frowned at him for a minute before suddenly, a smile came to her lips. Harry didn't even get to give the girl a questioning look before she got closer to him and simply scooped him up like he weighs nothing before she started walking off.

All Harry could do is cling to the short redheaded girl's arm as she carried him away, although he noticed how she paid special attention to avoid the springs around them. Why he didn't know, maybe she was afraid of water?

It took a minute, but eventually, they did come upon a small hut with an outcrop of rocks that someone could casually sit on. Actually, someone was sitting on them.

Well…more like something.

It was a Panda.

A Panda was also wearing a Martial arts Outfit and a pair of glasses. Unfortunately, it was also glaring at them rather heavily.

Wherever he was, he didn't think it was normal, not at all.

"Damare, Baka Panda!" the redhead pretty much hissed at the thing.

And to Harry's continued displeasure, the Panda kept glared at them before pulling out a freaking wooden sign that said something in what was definitely not English. The girl must not have thought much of whatever it said because she simply huffed before strolling on past it and forced her way inside the Hut.

At first, Harry thought that the Girl and her family owned the hut, but the man inside was busy at work cooking what looked like rice and pork. So, it must have been his.

Thankfully there was a small cot in the far corner, and the girl was nice enough to put him down on it, instead of just standing there with him practically snuggled into her arms and chest. Of course, she didn't tuck him in or anything, but she did say something to the Older Man that had been cooking.

The two went back and forth for a minute before the man nodded his head reluctantly, and the girl walked back outside with a cherry red complexion.

There was a slight shuffling that caught his attention, and when he turned his attention back towards the Old Man, Harry noted that he had what looked like bandages and disinfectant cradled in his arms. It didn't take him long to figure out what those were for, and he felt a touch of dread. He absolutely hated disinfectant with a smouldering passion.

Mostly because when he was younger, his Aunt Petunia would practically pour an entire bottle on him whenever he got nicked weeding her garden, if he was cut by one of Dudley's friends, or even when his Uncle would whip his back with that spiked belt so badly that he'd rip into his flesh.

His magic would heal most of the damage, but he still carried many of the spiderwebbed scars across his back.

Gulping, he forced down his fear as the man sat down in a chair before him.

"No worry, Young Customer, I have Daughter, she gets hurts lots and lots when little. I fix you super quick."

Before Harry could ask the man why it would matter that his daughter used to get hurt, the man simply reached forward and ripped his Shirt all the way down, making a yelp escape him.

That, however, was not what really caught his attention.

There…resting upon his chest was what looked like a small pair of breasts. Not all that, definitely smaller than that redheaded girls, for sure.

Blushing heavily, all he could do was stare at the wall as the Old Man nonchalantly rubbed the disinfectant into the back of his skull before wrapping a bandage around his head. He was so wrapped up in his shock at seeing a pair of breasts on his chest that he even managed to ignore the disinfectant.

"W-What happened to me!" Even his voice sounded a little shrill to his own ears, but at the moment, he didn't care. He had more important things to deal with, like why he had breasts all of a sudden and why he looked like a skeleton.

"Hmm…Miss Customer really Mister Customer. You second person fall in Nyannichuan… Spring of Drown Girl, like Big Boobed Mister Customer."

There was an odd humour to the man's voice, something Harry really didn't like the sound off. But as his words registered in his mind, Harry felt the blood run out of his body.

"H-He said 'second person,' so…so that would mean that girl was actually…a boy?!"

His mind just froze as those words echoed through his skull and all the implications of it. If that girl were actually a boy but cursed to look like a girl, that would mean that he was just like that boy. He must have fallen into one of those springs and turned into a girl as they did.

But what did that mean for him? What about all of his friends back at Hogwarts? What would they think of him when they found out about his…curse?

"Is there a cure?"

His words were quiet, even to his own ears, but he had to get that thought out of his mind, or he'd go insane. And even if there isn't a cure known to this man or anyone else, that didn't mean that they couldn't create one someday.

So, there was hope, at least in his mind.

"No cure known. Hot water Reverse Curse but Coldwater change back."

And even if his way of speaking was strange, Harry still understood the gist of what he was saying. He could return to his Birth form with a splash of warm water, but the cold would instantly turn him back into a girl.

And while he may be stubborn, he wasn't stupid. Less 5% of the planet's water was warm while the rest was cold, even if you count Hot drinks like teas and such. So, it was bound to be more common for a cursed individual to be forced into their Cursed form rather than staying in their Birth forms.

Even with Magic, he only knew one spell to keep water from affecting something, and it only worked on inanimate objects, like clothing. So, even if he cast a spell on all of his clothing, it would do nothing against him getting wet and changing into a girl. But, maybe he could find a Magically shopping district like Diagon Alley, and they would have something?

Shaking his head, Harry focused back on what the man was saying.

"You very unhealthy, Sickly Customer. If you no get treatment soon, you no grow up like Big Boobed Mister Customer; you stay small like a little girl. Very bad for the young customer." He paused for a moment to what sounded like wrangling out a rag with water before putting it against his skin, making Harry shiver at the feeling of cold-water trailing down his back, "Warriors of Joketsuzoku be very good at healing Mister Customer. They make skin beautiful again, no horrible scars unless wanted."

As the man talked, Harry was really starting to wish that he had a wand to curse the man with for the title he'd given to the other cursed boy…or for criticizing him for what he looked like now. It wasn't his fault that he was so skinny suddenly or that his current form was such bad condition compared to the redhead. He actually growled when he mentioned the scars upon Harry's back. He knew they weren't pleasing to look at, he'd been looking at them for years now, but that didn't mean that the man had to point them out.

"Oh-oh, I mean no harm, just say Joketsuzoku may well help."

Harry could almost picture the man waving his arms in apology as he talked, but the feeling of the rag on his skin told him otherwise. So he didn't say anything, although he did stop growling at the man.

Time seemed to move slowly from there. Over and over, the man would refill the water bowl and whip more blood away from his back before repeating his actions once more. Not once did the redhead comes back in, nor did the panda, who he thought might be the redhead's father. So, they must have been trying to be polite for 'her' as she was getting taken care of.

Not that he really cared that much, although it did ease his mind that they weren't going to see his scars. After all, not even his friends, the Quidditch team, nor the Medi-witch knew of his…blemishes.

"I go find you a shirt, old one no fixing."

There was a scooting sound of the man's chair rubbing against the wooden floor, followed by the sound of his heavy feet falling upon the hard surface. He couldn't have been gone all too long, or he had set the clothes out for the redhead, but the…boy?... must have turned them down.

On the other hand, Harry had grown up in circus tent-sized clothing, so clothing was just clothing to him.

"I hope clothes fit; they were daughters when she young. I go now" He didn't even get to thank the Old Man before the front door slammed shut behind him as he fled the room.

"Such a strange man. Must have thought I would…."

The Cursed Wizard couldn't even finish his thought as his eye took in what the man had given him. It looked kind of like a robe, not a wizard's robe but one that his Aunt would wear in the early mornings. There were some differences, though. This one was solid dark green with silver-colored lining and what looked like a long black belt. He didn't know the proper names for everything, but he wasn't going to fight it too much, not when he couldn't afford to.

Although he couldn't help but laugh at the Slytherin colours in the back of his mind and what his friends would think if they ever saw him in them.

So, taking a slow shaking breath, Harry forcing himself out of the cot and into a standing position upon the hardwood floor. His legs shook slightly, and his eyesight blurred over for a minute, but eventually, they passed, and he was able to stand without the risk of falling over.

The first thing he did was get the worst part over and done with first. Then, with twitching fingers, he unclasped the button on his trousers, and within a second, they had fallen to the floor, along with his pants. Looking downward, all he could do was gulp around the air lodged in his throat.

Once was most definitely a set of Twigs and Berry's, he assumed a fanny looked like. He really wasn't too sure what they actually looked like in reality; he was only 15 after all and had more important things on his mind than girls the last few years. He didn't even look in those magazines of True Morgana that his Dormmates kept trying to shove down his throat last year, which had gotten him more than his fair share of ribbing and more than one dodgy glance in the washroom.

Deciding he would put it to the side, for now, Harry quickly wrapped himself in the robe, making sure to take caution of the bandage wrapped around his head while pinning everything in place as best as he could before finishing it off by tying the belt around himself into the best bow he could while tucking what extra fabric he could into it. He may not know everything's name, but some of it was kind of obvious in what he was supposed to do. Although, it sucked that the old man didn't have any pants for him to wear in the meantime.

A few wiggles and minor adjustments, he thought he did a Bloody good job putting it all on. It almost made him wish he had a mirror to see what he looked like, but he felt like that might be just a tad too much like a girl than he was comfortable with.

Blinking, Harry finally noticed his toes, absently noting that he didn't even have his trainers and socks anymore.

One was regular, if masculine, toes, a set of toes looked like they had been painted with Nail polish. Each of his little toenails had a glossy black top, if slightly longer and sharper than he ever had them before, and right between each of his toes were what looked like dark green scales, vaguely comparing the shade to the colour of his outfit.

Feeling his mind starting to lag, he turned his eyes onto his hands, only to find them in a very similar circumstance as his toes.

Already, he could feel his mouth starting to dry out.

This was not a good thing, especially if whatever world he was in was bigoted to Magical creatures and other Hybrids. And that was probably what he was now, or at least that was what this form was.

"Come on, Potter, pull yourself together. You've been through stranger things than this, so just push through the weird stuff until you adapt and go from there." Even in his own mind, it sounded a tad forced, but he just kept thinking it as he made his way outside.

As he opened the door, it was almost as if the world outside had paused for a second. The wind seemingly stopped blowing, the birds stopped chirping, the Old man stops trying to push the Panda bear away from the redheaded teen, the Panda stop trying to swing its sign at the teen, and the redhead stops glaring at the panda.

And all of them turned their attention onto him.

Grumbling to himself, Ranma could only glare at his father.

Ever since he had come out of the Guide's Hut, the stupid Panda had been trying to force him to tell him what was his deal with the sickly-looking redheaded girl. And yet, when he actually told the stupid Panda that he had found her in one of the pools, his Pops had to be a jerk about it. From ridiculing the girl for being too weak to keep herself in good health like he did, saying they should leave her here, and all the way to suggesting that they sell her to some brothel during their travels back to Japan.

It was immoral.

It was revolting.

It was positively everything that was Saotome Genma.

In all of his years with his father on the road, he had never wanted to leave the man to his own devices as much as he did right now.

They were supposed to be Martial Artists—defenders of those that can't defend themselves. Being honourable was the number one rule according to his father, and yet, he wasn't following it in the slightest. In fact, Ranma didn't remember a single time that his father had been Honourable without going back on his word within the next few hours, not once in the last ten years of their journey.

And yet, as much as he hated it, he had no choice but to follow his father. He didn't have any grandparents, and he was pretty sure his mother wasn't alive or around anymore, so he couldn't escape the Pandafied Conman that taught him almost everything that he knew about Martial Arts.

It just wasn't fair.

To him or his fellow redhead.

Especially so when the Jusenkyo Guide told them that the redhead was actually a boy like him. It made the horrors of doing what his Pops wanted even worse in his eyes, not that doing that to a girl was right in the first place. But leaving someone that was obviously not Japanese or Chinese alone with a gender-changing curse and no idea what was going on just didn't sit right with him.

If only secretly, that made him not feel like such a freak since he wasn't the only Aquatransextual. If he could get the other teen back up to health, maybe they would be interested in Martial Arts, and he could have a sparring partner.

But all the fighting came to a standstill when the sound of the Guide's Hut opened, and their eyes fell upon the figure standing in its doorframe.

Ranma could feel his mind turn a little fuzzy at the sight of his fellow Aqua-TS standing there in the Dark green, silver, and Black Battle Kimono. Her, admittedly, short red hair and green eyes that sparkled like gemstones seemed like it was almost made for her. The only reason he could tell it wasn't was because of how louse it was on her skeletal appearance.

And yet, even with her rather unhealthy appearance, he still thought it looked good on her. Not that he would say any of that out loud. After all, he knew that the girl he was looking for was only their curse form, just like he was.

Shaking his head, Ranma walked away from his pops and the guide before coming to a stop in front of his fellow Redhead. He flashed them what he thought was a friendly smile before pointing at himself.

"Saotome Ranma"

He made sure to say it slow, just in case she couldn't understand him properly.

"Sah-oh-toh-meh Ran-ma?"

Her pronunciation was rather ruff and broken, but she definitely did better than some other people he had met on the road, especially in China. He smiled anyway before pointing back to her, and thankfully she understood what he wanted.

"Harry Potter"

Well, it definitely wasn't Japanese, that was for sure. Pursing his lips, Ranma gave it his best shot.

"Hari Poh-Tih?"

Even as he said it, Ranma felt like an idiot and made matters worse; his fellow redhead started laughing at his attempt. Mumbling under his breath, Ranma could only grumble as she kept on laughing.

It just wasn't his day.

But at least it was better than yesterday.

It definitely wasn't the nicest thing for him to do, but to hear the other cursed boy try and say his last name was utterly hilarious.

It was close, and if spoken fast enough, he probably wouldn't have noticed the mispronunciation right away, but because Sao-toh-meh had said it so slowly, he had heard the mess up.

Still pretty funny, though, and he was positive it would fuel his Patronus for quite a while.

Anyway, Harry or Hari, as Ranma called him, pulled himself back together with great effort upon himself. Every once in a while, a small snicker would escape him, but Ranma took it good-naturedly. But, beyond that, Harry spent the next half hour getting to know Pigtailed Martial Artist.

From what he could smudge together from Ranma's fundamental understanding of English and the slightly better understanding of the Old man, Ranma and his father were traveling athletes or nomads of sorts. They had spent the last ten years traveling all over Japan and China, stopping at numerous temples and other Dojos along the way.

Ranma even got up at one point in…his…explanation to demonstrate some of what he had learned. And Harry had to admit that the teen was outstanding, especially to his untrained eye. It was almost like a dance to his eyes. He didn't say much about his father, though, nothing beyond pointing to the Panda and shrugging.

That got a reaction out of the Furry man. Mostly in the form of him flashing his sign at Ranma before swinging it when the teen didn't outright react.

And that said more to Harry about Ranma's father than words probably ever would, although he was sure he would get a better image once the man finally returned to his human form.

But to Ranma's greatest pleasure, after the introductions were finished, the quartet were soon finding their way towards the Joketsuzoku.

And Harry was hoping that there would be someone there that could heal him, even if only a little bit. But, unfortunately, he wasn't the biggest fan of being carried by his fellow Cursed teen.