The Joketsuzoku was definitely a Warrior Village if Harry had ever seen one.

From its tall wooden walls, the watchtowers spread out along the outer wall of the village, the guards standing before the entre doors with blades of all kinds, and he was pretty sure one of them had a mace or even the archers that were stationed upon the upper walkway that right behind the top of the wall. It all screamed that this was not the sort of village you wanted to piss off.

It was all rather basic but efficient in its design.

What really quirked his interest was the minor layer or wards that surround the place.

The only reason why he could probably feel them was that he had lived at his Aunt's for so many years. He'd have to be an idiot not to feel the strange tingling feeling across his skin every time he walked onto the property. Going to Hogwarts had been like being enveloped in a warm hug; it was one of the reasons why he felt so safe there, even after all the crap he'd been put through.

But, either way, the wards around the Village did wonders at lifting the worry that was wiggling its way into his heart. This proved that there was actual magic here, wherever he was. And if there was Magic, then there was a way for him to get home. Someday at least.

Focusing back onto the world around him, Harry noticed that the Guide had moved away from their little group to talk to one of the village guards. For a few minutes, he didn't really take note of them, but after a while, he noticed that every single one of the Village guards was all Female, not a single male insight.

And he couldn't help but find it intriguing.

Back home in the British Magically World, Harry had steadily learned over his four years of Education that Wizards did not see Witches as equals. Sure, they could be top of their year in grades, they can be Prefects or even Head Girl, or even hold Masteries in a Subject after dedicating themselves to studying that specific branch of magic. Witches can even discover new facets of magic or invent items for the public.

And yet, for every action a Witch takes, she needs a Patron to get her anything remotely similar to a chance. The only freebies were Prefect or Head Girl, but the Witch in question required to work at least two times harder than a wizard. It's why there were so few female Prefects during his time there.

To make it worse, even if the Witch could contribute something to the magical world, almost all the credit and even most of the money gained would go back to their Patron. Retributions they called it for putting their neck out to aid the woman in question.

The only exception to these rules where the Heiresses of the Noble Families. They had to flash their status. If their family has enough political clout, they could be taken into whatever career or apprenticeship they desired. Although, they could also do nothing with their status and become trophy wives.

It explained why Hermione worked so hard to get what she had, even though she wasn't even a Prefect yet. And when he got back, he was going to do everything he can to give her the edge she needed, even if he had to adopt the bushy-haired girl into his family.

But back to the present, Harry shook his head to jar it from the dark thoughts about his homeland.

It turned out he was just in time, too, because the Guards started yelling to ones behind the wall. But, none of them had to wait long, as the deep rumbling came from the gate as it creaked open, distracted them until it finally came to an end.

The Guide quickly motioned for them to come with, and none of them really felt like standing there any longer. Especially not Harry, his legs had long since gone to sleep inside Ranma's grip, and his arms were starting to ache from clutching around the Pigtailed teen's neck for just as long. He was sure that Ranma was just as achy.

That and Harry could really use a pair of Pants; he was tired of worrying that someone was going to look up his…Kimono? One thing was for sure for the Aquatransextual Hybrid; he could not wait to find a pair of trousers that would fit him in either form.

The inside of the Village was just as bare as the outside was. Small huts were scattered in a rough square shape about halfway into the Village, with Gardens and farms at the outskirts. At the same time, the interior was nothing but small shops and craft stores. Nothing to elaborate, but it looked quaint to him.

Although, the biggest thing that drew both his, his carrier, and the guide's attention was the large group of Villagers gathered around what looked like a massive log suspended by ropes. And thanks to his current form's good eyesight, he could actually see the two women fighting on top of it.

One was small, almost the size of Ranma to be exact, but with lavender coloured hair and two funny-looking maces in her hands. On the other hand, the other would give Crabbe a run for his money in the bad looks competition. Harry didn't like to judge appearances, but this woman looked like she could bench over 500 pounds without a spotter with one hand and ate a whole cow for breakfast. That and she had a seemingly glazed look in her eyes as if she only knew how to follow orders, fight, and eat.

From Ranma's back, she could see the smaller girl weaving in between, the larger woman's heavy swings, all while leisurely swinging her weapons at her opponent. He could see the bruises forming on her body, the pained look on her face, and yet she still kept getting up.

That had more guts than Harry ever felt like he would be able to have. Even with all his Adventures, he only did them because he really didn't have any choice. Same with his childhood. But this overly large woman didn't have to keep fighting according to the guide when he asked, but she did anyway. She wanted to win for the increase in social status the competition would give her family, the more liberties they would hold.

It honestly made Harry feel bad for her as she was ceremoniously bashed off the giant log before landing into a hard lump on the ground, not even twitching.

There was a cheer rolling through the crowd, although he could faintly hear the desperate cries of children for their mother to wake up. If it weren't for the fact that he knew she was only unconscious and not dead, he would be more worried. But, after all, it looked like the village healer was taking care of her, even though she had some crazy long hair to go with it.

The moment, however, was utterly ruined by the angry scream a few meters off to their left.

Turning his head, along with Ranma's, Harry watched as the Champion screamed her lungs out at something that was practically inhaling everything but the table itself. The barely visible blur of Black and White told Harry all he needed to know.

It was Ranma's father, and he was eating the champion's food.

"Uh, oh."

It was all he could find to express what Genma was doing. Then, to make matters worse, he felt Ranma tense beneath him. If it wasn't for him pulling his fellow redheads' ear to draw his attention, he feared the teen would go and do something stupid like fight the girl for the food.

Ranma's clear blue eyes locked onto his own emerald ones, and he just shook his head, hoping that his fellow teen understood what he was trying to say. But, instead, he watched as confusion sprouted within the Cursed Boys' eyes before they flickered back to his father and then back to himself.

Harry could see the boy's desire to get his father out of his predicament shining through the Redheaded Girl's eyes, but he would not let up. Genma should have noticed that nobody was eating the food yet, and so he can face the consequences of his actions.

That, however, was enough to stall Ranma's hand. If Harry didn't do something quick, then a misunderstanding was going to turn into something life-altering for all of them, with Ranma and Harry right in the middle of it.

Seeing his…friend…about to charge in, Harry took a glance around the area before his eyes landed on the Elderly Healer that was hopping towards the scene between Genma and the Champion with a heavy frown upon her face.

As a mischievous smirk came to his lips, he pointed in front of Ranma into the direction of the white-haired elder.

Thankfully, Ranma caught on to what he was trying to get him to do and veered slightly to the left, right into the older woman's path.

Today had been going well for Koh Lon. The Musk wasn't stepping foot onto their lands, the Mongolian Magical Government wasn't trying to break the magic of Jusenkyo for the 37th year in a row, what few Magical children that they had were off to Mahoutokoro for another three months since they were all above the age of eleven, and everything had been set up for the yearly tournament of warriors.

Personally, Koh Lon couldn't care less for the tournament; she was well beyond the age limit of participating. However, after watching the same moves being repeated, she found it a complete bore year in and year out.

That is why she took the task of healing the wounded; at least then, she could keep her Healing abilities up to scratch, even if she had long since stopped using a wand and had moved onto a staff.

However, today's plans all changed, although she couldn't tell if it was for the better when a quartet of the oddest assortment made their way into the village square.

The first one she noted was the Jusenkyo Guide. He wasn't the most frequent visitor to their village, but he was around enough that she knew him by sight alone. After all, she had grown up with the mans Great-Great-Great-Great-Great grandfather. And boy had he been a looker in his youth, sadly, his many times' great-grandson didn't take after him in the looks department.

Besides the Guide, she had to quirk her brow at the sight of a Panda walking on its hind legs as if it were human. If that wasn't an obvious tip-off that he was a Jusenkyo Victim, she wasn't a five-hundred-year-old mummy.

But what really interested her were the two girls that walked with the men. Well, one walked, and the walker was carrying the other, but who else was pointing out the obvious. Beyond the devastatingly underfed waif that was plastered to the relatively sizeable chested redhead, what really drew Koh Lon's attention was the magic that was rolling off the pair, especially the sickly one.

Koh Lon had long since been a Fully licensed Healer among Magicals and an archaic healer among the mundane for almost as long, but never in all her years of healing did she sense as much magic pouring off of one so young.

Actually, the more she focused upon it, the more she noticed that the power that was being expelled seemed to be excess magic. As if her core had been forced to produce a constant stream of energy to keep up with the demands of it, but now, she was disconnected with whatever it was that was eating up all that power.

And to Koh Lon, it was simply fascinating.

She had met many powerful Witches and Wizards in her years, and only a few matched this child in pure power, but none could keep the output for as long as this girl was. How there wasn't a string of Accidental magic in her wake was a mystery in itself.

"Ah, so that's how it's happening. Your friend has an amazing ability to adapt to the magic that is being soaked into her very core, young Mageling. But she will not be able to take it all, you will need something soon to draw all that extra power out of you, or the ICW will be forced to seal your power."

Shouting was what drew her attention off of the redheaded pair. To her utter enjoyment, she had been so wrapped up in her study of the Red Pair that she had missed the last few rounds of the tournament.

Hobbling over to the fallen opponent, she offered a reassuring smile towards the woman's children as she got to work on their downed mother. Unfortunately, although she wasn't beaten too badly, most of her actual injuries were self-induced, forcing her body to work with aggravated past damages, compounding the issue, thus causing her to lose this year's tournament.

Suppose she had simply let those injuries be healed before the tournament. In that case, she probably could have beaten Shampoo in quick order and elevated her family to a higher position in the Village, thus leaving their poverty-ridden life behind. But she hadn't, and now she had to wait another year before getting the chance to do so again.

Hopefully, she would learn from this, but somehow, Koh Lon doubted that she would.

However, that train of thought was easily ruptured when she heard her Great-Granddaughter screaming and arguing with someone about her prize. So, she did what any good elder should do and figure out whatever event it was that had irked the Village youth once more.

Pogoing along with the crowd, Koh Lon could only frown as she got closer to the scene. Besides her magically weak granddaughter, the was something that positively reeked of Jusenkyo magic. And since none of her current villagers was inflicted with a curse, that could only mean that it was that damn Panda man that came with the Guide and the two redheads.

Speaking of which, Koh Lon let her senses broaden until she felt them still standing over on the far side of the tournament platform. Neither seemed intent of moving. Although the bustier one seemed to conflict with that decision still, they didn't move, and instead, they watched.

It's really too bad her grandchild wasn't more like they were, then she wouldn't feel exasperated all the time. Well, that, and she wished that the next three years would go much faster so the child would hurry up and move out of her hut.

Koh Lon needed some peace and quiet without the sound of teenagers running all over the place.

She quickly made her way over towards her increasingly enraged granddaughter, forcing a stern glare upon her brow. How her Grandson had ever spawned such a prideful offspring, she would never be able to figure out.

Their tribe may be prideful in the skills and heritage. Still, they were not pig-headed simpletons that always go looking for a fight like many outsides tend to believe. They may have different forms of 'kisses' that they can bestow upon others. Still, they were rarely used, except the Kiss of Marriage, and even then, each kiss had to be warranted by the Council of Elders. So, even if a Kiss were made, it wouldn't be active until the Elders agreed on such.

Sadly, many of the younger generations were forgetting this ruling and acting upon their own decree.

Unfortunately, depending on who you ask, she was stopped before she reached her goal.

Standing before her, with resolve burning through her eyes, the healthy redhead looked her in the eyes with her feet planted firmly into the soft earth beneath them. And for just one moment, she saw a shadowed figure of a Black-haired Male with eyes of Azural fire baring down upon her like a force of nature.

If she were a younger woman, she would have flinched at the vision that assaulted her psyche but instead, she simply pushed the image to the back of her mind for later.

"Ya can't hurt my Pops; he didn't mean ya any harm. He's just an idiot." Her words were firm, and if Koh Lon didn't know any better, she would think that the girl was a Siren with the subtle stream of magic in her voice, but she didn't have the inherent sharp teeth of the species.

These girls were getting even more interesting the longer she was able to observe them. The healthy girl had to be of Japanese descent, maybe some European blood with hair that red.

Turning her eyes from the Japanese girl and onto the Sickly one, she let her eyes roam over her form.

Like her carrier, her hair was red but similar to blood rather than a crayon-like her companions. And her eyes, oh her eyes; she had seen eyes like those in her youth, back before the serpent-based magical creatures were hunted to extinction. The Dragons survived the purge, and Basilisk breeding had long since been illegal worldwide. Still, the Lamia, the Draken, and the Gorgons had been whipped from the world. Only the stories of old kept the legends of those ferocious creatures alive.

But this girl, her eyes, spoke of a long-lost heritage, one that appears to be attempting to resurface in the world. So it only took the right couple to create a child and bring back a species after all.

To Koh Lon's knowledge, the only Human in recent history to have Serpent-like eyes was that Egomaniac Dark Lord that a mere Babe had defeated not six years ago. And while it was possible that this girl could be related, with her being white and all, but somehow Koh Lon didn't think so.

Shaking her head, she pushed her mind back on track.

Taking in the girls before her, with a glance towards the Guide, to see his opinion plastered across his face. She knew from experience that the guide tended to wait only a day after an individual is cursed before bringing them to her village, so he would at least be able to form a basic opinion of those he encountered.

And what she saw was both pleasing and upsetting.

When his eyes would land on the girls before her, his eyes would glimmer with worry, especially for the sickly young girl. Still, there was also a tiny hint of respect for them. She doubted they would talk too much over the last day, even less if there were a language barrier between them as she suspected. Still, if the Guide even showed that much of his thoughts on the pair, then she knew she would have to be careful with what she says to them.

But for the other man -and it did not delude her that the Panda was in fact a Male- she could practically feel the distaste the Guide held for him. And this was coming from a man that could still have a somewhat casual conversation with the Musk when they stopped by Jusenkyo. So, she knew that the man would be dishonourable at the slightest and Vile at the worst. And yet, as she stared at the girls before her, feeling the power radiating off of one and absorbed by the other, she already knew what she was going to do. So, with a long-suffering sigh, she made up her mind.

"Fine, Child, I will keep the village from killing the dishonourable panda, but he must leave the village and not return until I can bring your friend back up to decent health." Her words were spoken in Japanese so that at least the healthy girl would understand what she said. And seeing as there was evident confusion in the European Girl's eyes, she knew that she didn't understand Japanese in the slightest.

But she would give the child some lessons. At the same time, she was under her care, if only so she would adjust easier when she was admitted to Mahoutokoro when the next year began. Both would be massively behind, of that she had no doubt, but this way they could at least work together to improve themselves. It's too bad that they would have to start with the younger years and not those of their own age. But with magic, it was better to start at the beginning and not in the middle. She would definitely have to send them off to the magical districts in at least Japan, seeing as she didn't think that the European girl would be able to go anywhere on her own for a while.

Motioning for the pair to follow behind her, she pogoed her way towards her increasingly enraged Granddaughter. Thankfully, as she neared the crowd, the villagers parted to allow her to pass. And as she did, she took in what they thought of the show her charge was putting on for them.

Some were amused at what she was threatening to do to the Cursed Male, while others were frowning at her rather Juvenile display. She could tell those of the last sort were losing some respect for her Grandchild, as was she. A warrior did not act like she was. Yet, she was just an adolescent, and they all knew that teenagers were rather horrid at maintaining a stable hold on their emotional reactions. So, there was some leeway but not much.

Reaching the raging teen, Koh Lon let a slight smirk come upon her lips as she cleared her throat rather loudly right behind the lavender-haired girl. To her trained eyes, it always amused her when teenagers were stopped in the middle of their rage or when they were caught doing something that they knew they weren't supposed to be doing. The tensing of their backs, the small quivers in their arms, and even the slight paleness that comes to their skin as tendrils of fear worm their way into their mind. Those were some of the memories she took the most joy in and would use these days to cast the Patronus charm, not that she'd ever tell anyone.

"Cease and desist this unbecoming display child, or you'll dishonour yourself more than you already have." She kept her voice stern, although she knew that the slight crackly to it made her sound angry even when she wasn't.

And as her Granddaughter forced herself to bow deeply to her in apology, she turned her eyes upon the Cursed Man that had taken to standing behind the table with a confident air about him. From his stance, she knew that he at least practised Martial Arts, and if the skills that she could see trapped within the petite redhead were any clue, he was at least good enough to train his daughter to be on par with Shampoo.

Although, as she observed him, she was shocked to feel only a tiny trickle of magic flowing through his body, barely enough to keep him alive, just like all Non-magical. To think that this magicless man could spawn a child that was practically soaking up the magic that was being forced from the other Teens body was unbelievable.

But Magic was Magic, and she'd take it with a grain of salt. Besides, she had other things to do, such as kicking this Idiotic male from her village for the foreseeable future.

Watching his father be carried from the Amazon Village while still stuck in his panda form was strange for Ranma. Yet, he didn't feel worried about the man being able to break back in. He didn't understand it all too well, not as much as Hari seemed to be able to. Still, apparently, with the use of magic, they were able to keep his father from coming back until they decided it was time to leave.

And he did mean they, not just himself.

He didn't know why he felt like he had to include the other cursed boy in his decisions, but it felt right for him to do so. That and the emaciated teen really was going to need someone in the next few weeks.

The healer that had promised them sanctuary until his…friend…was healed, having only been able to do a basic scan of the redhead while the Village guards took their time to restrain his father. Still, from the deep frown on the older woman's face, he knew it was terrible.

She had spoken to Hari in English for a few short moments before nodding and then having him be carried off towards the Elders own hut so she would be available to him at all times. Ranma wasn't too sure how he felt to have Hari away from him; he had gotten used to the skinny redhead being by his side on the last day. And wasn't that a tad worrying to the teenaged martial artist. He had lived with only his father for so long that he attached himself to them without a second thought at the first sign of friendly contact. He didn't even know Hari all that well, just that he was from Europe, knew of magic, and was extremely underweight.

Shaking his head, he watched as the sun started to set beyond the walls of the Amazon Village, and a smile came to him before turning on the balls of his feet.

Navigating through the village wasn't hard for him. However, he did notice a few curious looks from the villagers towards his rather ratty-looking Training Gi; all he had to do was follow the tugging sensation in his chest. He didn't know what it was, but it grew steadily more potent as he travelled through the village.

When the feeling felt more like the banging of a drum in the back of his mind, he stopped before a decently sized hut with bright blue tiled roofing. He could hear the sound of voices through the walls but couldn't make out what they were saying since it sounded like English and he wasn't too good at speaking it. Finally, however, their talking was interrupted by the sound of a loud and boyish yelp.

Shaking his head, he decided to just go for it and walked inside. He found it wasn't what he was expecting, although he should have known it to happen in the back of his mind.

Over in the far corner of the one-room hut was the old healer, the girl that was yelling at his father not even an hour ago, and someone that he could only assume was his fellow Aquatransexual.

The first thing that Ranma noticed about his…friend…was that he was soaking wet, and his face was a bright red colour that would have matched the Martial Artist's current hair colour. Hari didn't look all that different in his male form than he did in his cursed form, not with the skeletal appearance he still held, the short but wild raven coloured hair, and the Kimono that he was still wearing. His eyes were still wider than he thought was normal for a male, but that could be from the malnutrition he was suffering from, and his skin was still pasty white.

It was his eyes, though, that had changed the most to Ranma, along with his hands. No longer was his pupils slitted like a snake, nor were his nails blackened or scales resting between his fingers. Admittedly, hee looked human if sickly and a little strange for being dressed in a woman's kimono, but he wouldn't hold that against the cursed European boy; he didn't have any clothing to wear besides what was given to him, so he had to wear it.

Seeing the boy start to become more flustered under his stare, Ranma turned his eyes away from his companion and turned it onto the Healer. She looked grim as she continued to stare into the air above Hari, her eyes twitching every so often but never indeed leaving that spot.

Ranma really didn't know what she was doing, but by the slight ripple of power in the air, he figured it had something to do with magic.

She didn't take much longer before cancelling her…spell…and hobbled over towards a tall wardrobe on the other side of the hut. When she pulled the doors open, Ranma felt his eyes nearly pop out of his head at the sight of hundreds of little flasks, each containing different coloured liquid and goops that made his stomach roll in on itself at the mere thought of having to take one.

As she gathered a variety of the nauseating-looking jars and brought them all over towards his companion, he watched as she would explain what each one was before taking a spoon and forced Hari to swallow. Some he was forced to take multiple spoonfuls while others were barely even half of one.

But all of them made Hari look like he would be sick if he were forced to take any more of them.

He was glad that he wasn't in Hari's position right now.

As the boy gulped down the last of the vile concoctions, Ranma watched as his eyes appeared to get heavy before he fell into a restful sleep. Worry peaked in his mind, but from the slow breathing of his cursed friend, he knew that he at least hadn't been poisoned.

"He will live, young one. I simply put him to sleep for the time being so that his body can rest. How he managed to stay awake, let alone live, with his soul as damaged as it was, I don't know."

Ranma wasn't even sure how to take the old healers' words. He had grown up hearing that only martial artists of the highest calibre could affect their soul, and even then, it was only to increase their abilities to heal their own bodies. But, to damage it…he couldn't stop the shudder that rolled down his spine at the mere thought.

"How long until he gets better?" his words were tinged with worry, not enough that it would seem like he was heartbroken over the other male but enough to show he at least cared for him.

She didn't respond for a moment, simply stared from her perch at the sickly European boy from the top of her staff. He didn't know the woman, not even her name, but he knew she at least knew what she was doing. She had to if she was good enough to tell when someone had managed to damage their soul.

"If he continues to take the potions that I just gave him, he will be completely healed, at least physically, within the next year." Her voice turned hard as stone as she continued, "But he must have balanced meals every day. He'll have to start with small meals at first until his stomach can handle more food. Then, when you leave, ill send him off with an extended pouch that he can use to hold his meals for the rest of the trip back to your home country. He will tire easily, and if he is overly stressed, his magic may lash out for the next two to three months as his body adjusts and reforms its connection to his magical core, stopping his power from leaking out of his body in the process."

Ranma didn't have the most formal education, but even he could understand that if his friend wasn't well taken care of for the next few months, then those around him could be hurt. And now it was his duty to protect both his companion and those around him from being damaged.

It was a Martial Artists duty, after all, to protect those that cannot protect themselves.

Gulping, Ranma just hoped he didn't fail his similarly cursed companion and that his Idiot of a father didn't try something that could end up with one or all of them in critical danger.

"Who am I kidding, Pops is going to do something stupid, and I or me and Hari are going to have to deal with the consequences."

Every day for the next two weeks, Hari was bored and excited, but mostly, he was beyond joy.

He hadn't meant for it to happen, but on that first day under Elder Koh Lon's care, she had figured out who he actually was and didn't that scare the hell out of him. But, to his utter horror, whatever that redheaded woman had done to him in the Surrey underpass, had ended up sending him just over a decade into the past and to China of all places.

So, he was at least still in the same world he was born into, just on the other side of it.

It terrified him that he would somehow affect the timeline. Still, with a few short words with Elder Koh Lon, he had calmed down enough to realize that there was no way he could affect the time stream since he was halfway across the world. And even if he somehow did affect it, then it was meant to happen because those events would lead to him being sent back to the past.

It hurt his head just thinking about it, but he would just have to go with it until he could figure out how to return to his proper time. But beyond all the time-travel issues, his biggest worries were what the Healer was saying about the state of his body.

According to the Healer, his body showered long-time exposure to a very powerful glamour that had been broken when he was sent back into the past. There were traces of it still scattered across his body, or at least there was when he first came to the Joketsuzoku. Still, the Elder said the magic was fading too fast for her to be able to get a proper scan of just who had put it on him. It didn't make him feel all that much better, but he decided to put it as something he'd never find the truth of.

Beyond the Glamour, there was the truth of what actually happened to him as he grew up with the Dursleys. The bite-sized portions of food or lack of said food and the outcome of it. He always felt weak during the school year, even though he knew he was eating every meal possible. It explained why the clothes he wore always felt larger than they should have felt against his skin, even though they looked normal when he glanced in the mirror.

His bones were weak, as were many of his internal organs and muscular system. Thankfully, his magic was strong, but that was only because it was apparently forcing itself to become strong to meet up with all the demands on it, such as wards at his relative's house and keeping the glamour active.

He wasn't happy about it, but he was getting better, at least with the Healers Aid. And even though she said it would take him a year to get back to what he was supposed to be, he wasn't too upset with the time frame.

Sighing to himself, Harry forced himself to sit up to look out through the sole window in Koh Lon's hut and take in the sights of Joketsuzoku. It was still early morning right now, but he could see a few Villagers roaming the inner pathways that lead from the huts and shops into the village centre.

He didn't get to leave the hut all that much in the last fortnight but what he saw brought a smile upon his lips. His absolutely favourite part so far has been the daily baths in a local hot spring that had been turned into a Rustic bathhouse. He couldn't stop the flush that came to his cheeks as he thought of all the times Ranma washed his back for him while he did his best in cleaning up his front. But thankfully, he was starting to learn to control his embarrassment from showing during those times. But, of course, it wouldn't surprise him if Ranma noticed it. Still, he hoped that the Martial Artist would simply think it was from his culture being more body shy than their own and not something else entirely.

His greatest relief was when they were all dried off and laying back in their cots, his head laying gently against his pillow.

An explosion of a snore jarred him from his thoughts and pulled his attention towards the cot beside his own. He couldn't help but laugh to himself at sight before him.

There, sound asleep on his gifted cot was his Raven-haired companion with his arms wrapped around his pillow as if he was spooning some lucky girl and nuzzling his face along the top. Harry couldn't stop the smile from forming on his lips as the small tendril of drool was rubbed into the boy's pillow.

Gross but still bemusing.

Pushing himself out of bed, Harry walked on unsteady legs towards the bucket that Elder Koh Lon kept in the corner for them if they ever desired to change into their curse form. Ranma hadn't been too happy with the old healer when she suggested that they spend some time in their curse forms to adapt, and he tended to fight tooth and nail against the change, but Harry didn't mind all that much. It was just another form of magic. While he didn't like that he couldn't choose his form, he did admit that it was fascinating to see and feel the differences between his two forms.

And with the weight that he was slowly putting on, he could really tell the difference between his forms. Although, of course, he was still skinny in both forms, he had expected that after the first night in the Village, he was just happy that he was regaining his health.

Although, as he thought about his Health Issues, he couldn't help but wonder why Madam Pomphrey had never noticed that he was under that stupid glamour. The Elder had noticed almost immediately that there had been one hanging onto his body. While it was broken, the magic was still apparent to her. It was evident to even him now that he was free of it; his magic no longer felt trapped just beyond his skin and was now pushing anything magical away from his body that wasn't his own.

Picking up the small ladle, he quickly dipped it into the slightly chilled water before pouring it over his head. He shivered at the feeling of the cool water against his warm skin, but it passed quickly.

The shift between Male and Female was strange to Harry.

First was the slight clenching of his magic and the light tingle all along his body, both internally and externally, and then the feeling of his bones shifting and fat moving to places he wasn't entirely used to just yet. That wasn't even close to the pure oddness of a rapid shrinkage of his male bits before they started to extend inside his pelvic area. She was sure that if she documented the processes and turned it into the Transfiguration Monthly, she'd make at least some money in Royalties towards advancing Human Transfiguration. But she'd have to wait a few years until she was legally able to.

Putting the small Ladle back into the bucket, just in case, Ranma decided to beat the curse to the punch and activate the Curse willingly, although she very much doubted it.

Grabbing the small walking staff that Koh Lon had spent the last two weeks helping her create, Harry made her way out of the Elders hut. Then, he started making her way towards the Village Pavilion for some breakfast. It didn't take her all that long to get there, seeing as the old Healers home was very close to the centre of the village.

As she walked or stumbled, depending on who you ask, she let her mind wander even more.

She didn't know what her future was going to be like now. Technically, while this was the past from her original perspective, it was now the present from her current one. So, she would have to make something of a life for herself at least until she could get back to August 2nd of 1995, but one thought kept plaguing her sleep for the last two weeks.

"Will I even want to take my life back when that time comes?"

It was a hollow thought, one that made her heart feel like it was pierced by something dull and rusted, but it was a realistic one.

Would she be willing to return to the life of Fifteen-year-old Harry Potter when she would be twenty-five by then? Would she even remember why she needed to return when the time came? It clawed at her mind every time she had a moment to herself, but all she could do was ignore it and move on with her life. Today was Today and Tomorrow was Tomorrow. She'd figure something out in time, even if she had to have help from the friends she makes in the next decade. If they believe her, that is.

Sitting down upon an open seat along the bench, Harry offered easy greetings to those around her, and some even were polite enough to return it to her. It made her flush with a tiny hint of pride that she slowly learned how to speak Mandarin. Of course, she wasn't what you would call gifted at languages, but she was learning, albeit slowly, and that was what counted.

It was a silly goal but one she hoped to accomplish within the next couple of years. She really wanted to hold a full conversation with Elder Koh Lon and her friend Ranma without stumbling. And while she knew it would be beyond difficult, significantly when you added the multiple writing systems that each of them had, she still felt that she could do it.

Breakfast was like warm butter on the tip of her tongue, and with each bite, she felt herself falling in love with Oriental-style cuisine. It wasn't heavy in her stomach like the Full English meals that she had been forced to cook for her relatives, nor was it overly greasy and bland like the traditional British meals served at Hogwarts all year long.

It was simply filling and rejuvenating to her taste buds. Many of the spices used in each dish were foreign to her, but she made sure to make a list of the flavours to ask someone who had experience cooking these types of dishes.

Feeling the bench groan under the sudden weight beside her, she turned her head to find a rather lethargic-looking Ranma as he reached forwards to gather up his morning meal.

She wasn't sure why she did it, but she slowly stopped eating her own food and watched as he ate his own. She had never been the best at reading body language, except for her relatives. Still, from this close, she could see the hesitation in the boy's motions as he ate.

And she knew the reason why.

It hadn't taken Harry long to realise that Ranma was what you would call a Gobbler. What would take an average person at least five minutes to eat would only take him about three seconds. He didn't make a mess when he ate; he just would sound and look like a pig as he did it. Grunting with every bite and never truly closing his mouth.

It had startled her at first, seeing food seemingly disappear right before her eyes but over the last two weeks. More than one smack on the boy's hands from the staves of the Joketsuzoku Elders; he was being conditioned out of that grievous habit. The Elders had demanded why he would eat with such poor etiquette, and Ranma had been as stubborn as a mule at first, forcing himself to eat even faster to avoid their swats but one day, Harry had seen enough of the food battle and pulled the older boy off to the side and had gotten the story of why he did it.

His father would steal his food while growing up, telling him that it was for training and that if he couldn't eat his own food before the Panda stole it or steal the man's own meal, he would get no food.

It sickened Harry the first time she heard it, literally. Sometimes when she thought of it, she would feel her mouth fill with bile before having to expel it somewhere no one would ever find it.

After that little talk with her friend, she explained that she had been forced to eat only scraps, if she was even that lucky, on average of once a day. She had learned that eating as neatly as possible had a better chance of getting her more food and didn't get her disgusted looks like Ron still got by the end of their fourth year at Hogwarts.

Ranma hadn't understood why she said this at first. Still, over the course of the last week, the Villagers were starting to be more friendly towards the Martial Artist, and the variety of dishes available were increasing. So, he forced himself to eat slower and with better manners.

Harry wasn't sure she expected it to last when they were back on the road with Genma. Still, hopefully, she could curb it once they get to wherever they were heading after the Village.

The light thunking of jars upon the table forced her attention away from her companion and onto the potions that were set before her. She really wanted to sigh at their site, but she knew that it would get her nowhere fast.

Taking the small serving spoon attached to each lid, she quickly scooped up the amount that Healer Koh Lon demanded she takes and forced herself to swallow the vile concoction. It was slimy against her tongue and fell to her stomach like a stone, but thankfully her body worked relatively fast in digesting it; she could already feel it taking effect.

One by one, she took fourteen other potions, and each one was as bad as the first, but when she was finished, she took no time to gulp down a glass of water to get the gross taste out of her mouth.

The raspy chuckle to her right told her all she needed to know about why her potions were placed before her. After that, the Elder seemed to kick out, making her take them every time, probably because she always showed disgust on her face as she gulped the spoonful down.

The woman was a miracle worker, but she could be an evil old bitty when she wanted to be.