A more modern Inuyasha tale, where there is no travel between present and past involved.

For as long as she could remember, she had dreams. Dreams that helped to keep her sanity while living with the Dursleys and the way the students couldn't make their minds up about her. As she raced through the Department of Mysteries, she couldn't help but feel the familiar pull that reminded her of the dreams.

She found herself separated from the others, in a room with discarded or forgotten artifacts.

It was full of interesting things, but her eyes were only on the two objects in the corner.

One looked like an old sword, with a ragged hilt and ancient looking sheathe. The wrappings were faded and worn, and the gold was partially tarnished.

The other was a large, white furry pelt that she gravitated towards without a second thought. She knew that pelt.

Her hand reached out to touch it, and felt a strange hum in her magic warning her that it was not happy. She smiled, without knowing why.

With the practiced ease of doing it a thousand times before, she gently stroked the fur pelt. The angry hum in her mind started to bleed into surprise and confusion. She hummed a nameless tune she only remembered from her dreams, and to her amusement, the fur pelt seemed to come alive in a way.

Carefully, lovingly, she picked it up and cuddled with it. The pelt seemed to bristle for a moment, before it settled down around her and half-heartedly tried to wiggle in her clothes. Like it wanted to be closer to her skin, but didn't have the energy to pull it off.

She pulled her shirt out of her skirt, and wrapped the pelt around her waist before putting her shirt back under her skirt. It wriggled contentedly against her bare skin causing some rather interesting friction.

She turned her attention to the sword, which had a different hum. It was more curious than angry, and the second she picked it up it sang in welcome. Almost like someone she knew very well was saying "Welcome home!" with great enthusiasm. It gave her a more friendly, happy hug than the pelt had.

She heard sounds of combat, and the sword rang eagerly in it's desire to help her deal with the problem she was currently facing.

It had a weight to it that most wouldn't be able to handle, but it was light enough for her to pick up.

In the death chamber, she knew what she had to do. The pelt wrapped itself around her chest like a makeshift armor...it was incredibly awkward but she ignored it. The sword begged to be drawn, to taste the blood of the fools who challenged her.

Sakura didn't know what was guiding her...whether it was her internal instincts or her half-forgotten memories of a past life. Either way she was more than happy to oblige the sword's request.

"Everyone, you might want to duck," she said calmly.

The teens who had followed her didn't even think twice. The barrage of magically charged metal slammed into the fools who had been holding them had they not dropped to the floor in response to her words.

The formerly worn katana was now a massive sword, in the shape of a fang. It's hilt was covered in a whitish fur and it was all too happy to bring destruction on some much needed victims.

Sakura's smile was vicious. The fang sang with it's desire to do some damage to the building, and to be honest she was still pissed about the dementors.

"Wind Scar!"

The roar of wind ripped through the wards like a hot knife through butter. Several projects and rooms were destroyed, and the Death Eaters were quickly re-evaluating who the actual threat was. Potter was entirely too liberal with the use of that sword's powers and she clearly had no qualms about aiming it in their direction. One look at the damage that one swing caused was enough to tell them of it's lethality.

As the others scrambled out of her way, the Order had to stare at how calm Potter was with causing so much damage.

After the battle...

Dumbledore, predictably, wanted her to hand over the sword. Sakura, knowing what she did about legilmency, avoided proper eye contact and did her best to focus on the death of Sirius as she lied through her teeth about dropping it while running to chase after Bellatrix.

Technically she wasn't lying. She had dropped it...into her expandable bag which was keyed only to her. Like hell was she handing over that sword to anyone who wasn't it's proper owner. After all, she wasn't daft enough to run with a sword in hand...it was practically asking that she be tripped or something! Never mind how awkward it would have been running with the fang in it's true form down those narrow corridors.

Dumbledore was not happy about the fact she had zero issues with the deaths she caused. To be fair, it wasn't like she knew them personally and they had been trying to actively kill her.

She went back to the Dursleys begrudgingly, though at least she had the fur pelt and the sword to take her mind off things. In her past incarnation she was a healer, but this time she wanted to be a warrior.

Golden eyes looked up from the almost never ending paperwork. He had dismissed the feeling originally, but now he was sure of it. Someone had the mokomoko in their possession again... a female from the signals he was getting from his pelt. A young female at that.

At least it wasn't that foul toad again... it was only his iron restraint that kept him from audibly growling. That damn toad had stolen his mokomoko and the Tessaiga, unaware of their significance. If it weren't for the fact that he had to maintain a neutrality to placate the Japanese ministry, he would have killed the English delegation on the spot to find out who had broken into the room.

He had managed to give the hag nightmares to the point she handed it over to someone else. After two years it was discarded and never touched again... he believed, though he couldn't confirm, that they had placed his pelt with the Tessaiga as he kept getting weak signals from it.

On the plus side, he had been able to get a general idea of where the female was...or rather where she would be in a few months.

A female who was magically powerful for him to get signals this far away, but not at magical maturity? There was no doubt in his mind she was a student of their precious school, however ridiculous the name was.

His eyes narrowed. He would have to be very sneaky if he wanted to retrieve the stolen items without alerting that damn hag he was in the same country as her. He had little doubt that Umbridge would either scarper off or hide someplace where it would be an incredible annoyance to deliver her overdue punishment for the theft.

Sesshomaru, Lord of the West, had some letters to write. Fortunately the Japanese Ministry was very embarrassed and apologetic about the whole matter, so they wouldn't attempt to dissuade him from doing any damage. Besides, the witch brought this on herself with her dishonorable actions.

And wouldn't you know it, there was a ridiculously easy way for Sesshomaru to enter the school. He just had to apply as the next Defense teacher for a year. It meant having to put up with teenagers, but honestly teaching them to duel would be simple. He just had them do most of the work, while silently searching for his missing pelt.

The only snag was the fact he wasn't the least bit human, but unless they had a keen sense of smell they weren't likely to figure out his true nature. A glamour and some tolerable cologne would mask what he was nicely.

With that in mind (and desperate to undo the damage caused by the English) Sesshomaru set about making a fake identity and applying for the job. Unsurprisingly, it was accepted immediately as was the defense book he planned to use. Considering they went through teachers every year, it was almost guaranteed he'd get the position. It wasn't like he planned to stay long enough for the so-called curse to affect him anyway.

A few months later, Sesshomaru boarded the private plane to England. Like hell was he going to suffer through mass transit, and air port security would have given him grief over his swords anyway.

The moment he stepped foot in London (mostly to acclimate himself) he reached out his senses and was pleased that his connection to the pelt was as strong as ever. However it wasn't quite strong enough that he could pin the location down just yet. It was possible the female was behind heavy warding.

Annoyed, Sesshomaru, or rather "Yasha Maru" as his paperwork claimed walked into a hotel. He would have to travel via the train as he had no idea where Hogwarts was and he detested portkeys. Also, he had heard things about their Knight Bus and wanted no part of that nonsense.

He was still kicking his brother when he got back, because Inuyasha had been the one to pick the fake name and insisted on being a brat. Honestly, this was partly his fault to begin with...if he hadn't agreed to leave behind his pelt with the Tessaiga as a compromise then neither would have been taken by that hag. Inuyasha's hotheaded temper was the indirect cause of this mess, though his brother had at least been properly angry over the theft and just as eager to murder the hag who did it.

Sesshomaru checked his disguise. The ministry had applied the glamour and showed him how to switch between this human disguise and his true form as the Lord of the West. A simple necklace held the glamour that hid his true nature. It was tasteful enough that no one would comment on him wearing it constantly.

He wasn't happy about having to ride the smelly, cramped train, but he put up with it. He found a suitable compartment far away from the loo and locked it firmly with both spell and by jamming it shut. He closed the curtains for good measure, and took a long nap.

Once the train stopped, he was the first to leave and calmly went to the agreed meeting spot. The woman sent to retrieve him showed him a faster route into the castle that would allow him to avoid all the children. After all, he would need a moment to smarten himself up before taking his place at the table.

Sakura felt a strange sense of anticipation when they entered the castle. The second she found a spot at the table, her eyes were

drawn to the teachers. Most she dismissed, but it had become a bit of a game to guess who the new defense teacher was this year.

The moment her eyes fell on him, her heart skipped several beats. She wasn't the only one staring...she was fairly certain most of the girls were silently drooling at the literal eye candy that was the unfamiliar face at the table.

Hair dark as night, eyes like liquid gold, skin as pale as alabaster, and a quite confidence that spoke of power and authority. He wore his robes in a professional manner but there was no mistaking the fact he'd look damn good in anything he wore. There was an exotic beauty to him that none of the males in the castle could match. His bespoke robes did little to hide the fact that this man was very strong and likely even better when he took the bulky clothing off.

Hermione noticed him, but more importantly she noticed the way her best female friend was looking at him. Internally she cackled, because it obvious that unless the new teacher was a complete and irredeemable ass, Sakura was almost guaranteed to develop a crush on him. Hell, she was developing a light crush and he had barely been here for less than two hours!

Needless to say the only thing the girls could talk about for the next week was the eye candy that was Professor Maru. The man was damn hot and the boys were not-so-quietly sulking about the fact he outclassed them without even trying.

He had damn near every girl eating out of the palm of his hands by the end of the first week. Best of all, he wasn't as incompetent as Umbitch and actively encouraged them to practice their spell casting!

Sesshomaru had figured out very quickly who had his pelt. The girl was, for reasons he couldn't fathom, wearing it around under her clothing during her first class with him.

The most baffling thing was that his mokomoko was highly reluctant to answer his call if it meant separating from her. As it was an extension of his will, that meant that subconsciously he was attracted to the 16 year old witch.

Which was baffling as he had never met her before this class and unlike the other females, she had clearly been blooded. Considering some of the stories he'd heard from the other teachers about her 'adventures', it was blatantly obvious she was a natural born warrior, though she lacked the proper training.

He could fix that, and in the process figure out why his pelt was acting so strangely.