"I'm home!" Ten-year-old Shisui called out into his forty-year-old, one-room apartment. Piiko the crow flew from his shoulder to a small perch in the kitchen to drink some water. The excited caws of the rest of Piiko's siblings greeted him, bringing a smile to his face. It was always nice to come home to the crows, even when their parents Sora and Nana were nesting up at the Naka shrine.

He took off his shoes at the genkan and dumped his tanto and weapons hostlers there, too, before heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. He'd spent all morning since before sun up training with Itachi, who had recently turned 7 and was in his first year at Academy.

The crows cawed at him and hopped around, some of them on the perch and others on the counter, all impatient as they watched him down the glass of water.

"I know, I know, you're hungry. Gimme a minute." He said, digging around in his pockets for the scroll he put the berries in. He usually brought them home a snack after training.

"Here you go. Make sure to take some back to your parents at the nest, okay?" he said, unsealing all the berries he'd found and letting them do what they wanted. Pippi and Momo took some of it back to a large perch he'd set up in the corner for them, while Piiko stuck around to eat it on the counter.

He plopped down at the table, exhausted, feeling disgusting, and very much wanting a bath but also feeling very hungry. It was past noon and he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He heard Momo open the window and turned to see her leave with some of the food wrapped up in a napkin in her beak for Sora and Nana at the nesting site.

I can't wait to get an apartment with a shower.

He'd only just made jonin and didn't want to spend his entire life's savings just yet. Buying scrolls from Genma and saving for Hogwarts was expensive enough. His attention was diverted when Piiko pointedly dumped the loaf of bread in front of him.

"Toast? Thanks, Piiko." He replied, opening the package for Piiko and handing him two slices of bread. He sighed as he heard Piiko drop them into the toaster and push the knob down so they'd start cooking.

They had taught themselves how to make him toast because to all the crows in the murder he was their chick. They didn't like seeing how depressed he was when he first moved in two years ago after the Nine Tails attack killed his mom and great grandpa.

Piiko got the bread out of the toaster and dropped it on a plate for him. He would have made himself a snack eventually, but it was a nice gesture and it was comforting that someone wanted to look out for him. He buttered one and put jam on the other and ate it quickly before leaving his apartment to go to the bathhouse for a much-needed shower.

"See you later!"

When he returned, he put some water on the kettle to make ramen for a quick lunch when suddenly there was a great commotion of cawing, beating wings, and hooting behind him. Whirling around, kunai in hand, he saw Piiko, Pippi, and Momo attacking a barn owl with a letter tied to its leg. He relaxed and put away the kunai.

"Stand down! That's probably mine." He ordered. He was about to turn 11 after all, and his mom had told him he would be going to a magic school in England after he turned 11. Lord Third had yet to stray from that original plan, fortunately, despite his being newly added to Kumogakure's bingo book.

If it wasn't for my uncontrollable magic, Kaito wouldn't have died.

He shooed the three crows away and helped the owl up onto the table so he could untie the letter from its leg. He put the letter down and got it to hop on his arm again so he could take it to the large perch tree in the corner.

Looking back at the crows, he signed friendly for them so they'd know not to keep attacking the owl. They knew basic military hand signals.

"Here, rest up. You look like you came a long way." He said, watching it hoot at him wearily before hopping onto one of the perches his crows didn't use much. He got some of the mealworms the crows left from breakfast and got the owl to eat them out of his hand before bringing it some water.

When the owl looked less like it was about to topple over, and much more stable, he checked it over for injuries.

It's not too bad. She's bleeding in some places though. She's got a long journey ahead of her, so I'll probably get the vet to check her out before I send her back.

He left her to rest and went to open his letter. It was closed with a wax seal in the form of a crest with an ornate looking English letter on it.

Oh no I hope it's not in English.

He opened it, and fortunately it wasn't in English, but unfortunately, he really didn't know kanji all that well either. He had graduated early after two years of the Academy at the age of seven instead of nine like normal. He'd been paying a tutor to teach him, but with the war with Kumo going on he just didn't have the free time to learn quickly. He was just lucky he knew enough to read all the foreign words and names written in katakana.

"I guess this Deputy Headmistress lady, Mineruba, will be taking me to Daiagon Alley on July 31st to get my school supplies. We'll be meeting in Lord Third's office at 6pm. I have about a month until then." He got out a pen and notepad and wrote out a quick reply.

Deputy Headmistress, I would be happy to attend your school for my magic lessons. I have a problem though. I don't speak, read, or write English. Sincerely, Uchiha Shisui

He left the letter for later and ate his two bowls of ramen while the owl rested up. He would take her to the vet after lunch and send her back with his reply sometime tomorrow if it all went well. Or before then if he got called away to go on a mission.

A month later, he stood in Lord Third's office awaiting the arrival of the Deputy Headmistress. He'd been promised the entire day off for the trip to ensure he would be available, so he went in just his standard Uchiha high collar shirt, black pants, and his jonin vest as was required of him now. He left his kunai and shuriken hostlers tied to his leg mostly because it felt awkward to leave the house without any weapons. He left his backpack and tanto at home and just brought along his wallet, with a decent chunk of his savings inside.

I wonder what the conversion rate is for ryo to pounds? I hope its not too expensive. That vet's visit and the new storage scroll from Genma really cut into my savings.

"Welcome, Shisui. Thank you for coming early, I need to discuss a few things with you before she gets here." Lord Third said, puffing on his pipe at his desk as usual. "Now that you are in Kumogakure's bingo book, you will be a target. I will be placing you on a jonin-level tracking and assassination team built around your body flicker jutsu. I'm still working on putting together your new team, some of my top candidates are currently out of the village."

"Yes, sir." He replied. He knew already that would be where he'd go.

"Now, about this magic school. I will discuss this when they get here in more detail as well, but you are expected to attend magic school as well as do whatever missions come up that I need you for. Same as usual, that will not change. I will speak with the school official to make arrangements for you. As a Tokubetsu jonin you are too valuable to the village. I am aware that magical folk have mastered their own version of time-space ninjutsu, so travel to and from school should not be a problem. You were born there, and if things had gone differently, you would have been raised there. I hope you will be happy and enjoy yourself and make some friends, Shisui. But please, learn as much as you can so that you can continue to better serve the Leaf Village." Said Lord Third, smiling warmly at him.

"Yes, Lord Third. I will, sir." He replied.

Minutes later, an ANBU let in tall, elderly woman with a stern expression. She had black hair with grey streaks tied back in a bun and wore a green dress, a matching cloak, and a pointed black hat.

"Hello." She said, with a strong accent.

Lord Third and he both returned her greeting. "Hello, Deputy Headmistress Mineruba."

She grimaced at the poor pronunciation of her last name. "I will do a spell to translate. For both of you."

She took out a stick, a wand he supposed, and pointed it at them, gave it a swish and a flick, and said, "Transferendum laponica!"

"Is that better?" she asked, and he was surprised to find himself suddenly understanding her.

"Uh, yes, ma'am." He said, haltingly, still processing what had just happened. All it took was two words, a swish and a flick, and he could understand and speak a whole different language? "Is this permanent?"

"No, Mr. Potter, the spell will only last for a full 24 hours." She replied, "You have a few options for semi-permanent and permanent acquisition of the English language. I will go over it with you later when we're done buying your equipment for school."

Oh. Well, that's still really useful.

"Well now, this is interesting. Thank you, Ms. McGonagall." Said Lord Third. "However, I have something I need to discuss with you before you leave regarding Shisui's schooling."

Ms. Minerva, who had looked as if she were about to leave with him, turned back to look at Lord Third. "Yes? Is there a problem?"

"I am aware that ten years ago you were told to expect an eleven-year-old boy barely out of the Academy, still doing chores and errands and odd-jobs for people while learning under a more experienced jonin instructor post-Academy. You were warned that our Academy is a military school. Is that correct, Ms. McGonagall?" said Lord Third.

"Yes, sir, it is. Has he not finished Academy?" Ms. McGonagall asked, looking concerned.

"No, no quite the contrary!" Lord Third replied, laughing. "He has been promoted not just to chunin, but to Special Jonin. We are at war right now and I cannot afford to be without even a single Special Jonin. I will need to call him back to the village regularly for missions that may easily take days or weeks, possibly even months. His job as a ninja must take priority over his magical education. I will require that if I allow him to attend your school that you will provide him with a method of traveling to and from quickly and easily."

"But sir, he's just a boy. Surely there's someone else you can send in his place? He can't just miss several weeks of schooling at a time. It's unprecedented!" Ms. McGonagall exclaimed.

"Well, time to start a precedent, then." Lord Third said, firmly. "I will not give my permission for him to attend Hogwarts unless you can agree to this and provide him with sufficient transportation."

Ms. McGonagall sighed, looking very displeased. "Fine. I will talk with the headmaster, Albus, and see what can be arranged. I will send a letter with an express owl when we get to the post office on Diagon Alley and reach out to Mr. Potter here with his reply."

"Hurry up now, Mr. Potter. We have a lot of shopping to do." She said, beckoning him over and pulling a dirty old shoe out of her cloak.

"Yes, ma'am. Call me Shisui, by the way. I was named Shisui Uchiha upon my adoption." He replied.

Did Lord Third not tell her? And they have their first and last names backwards?

"Yes, Mr. Uchiha, your Hokage here mentioned that. I apologize, you've been Harry Potter to me for the past ten years." She replied, "Here, take the shoe and we'll be off to Diagon Alley. If you're not quick we'll miss the portkey's departure."

He hurried over and grabbed the shoe, still not understanding how a shoe was meant to provide transportation.

What's a portkey?

Suddenly, there was a pulling sensation at his navel, like someone had hooked it and pulled, but without all the blood and pain. It got stronger and the surroundings around him disappeared as felt like he was pulled by his navel down a drain tube faster than even the body flicker technique could take him and spat out in the middle of a random alleyway all the way across the world. Instincts and training enabled him to land on his feet, but he stumbled and everything was spinning and he had to grab onto the wall for support. He felt sick to his stomach as he pulled himself up and leaned against the building's wall, waiting for his head to stop spinning and for his stomach to settle down.

There's gotta be an easier way to do that. Maybe the body flicker?

"Fuck. What was that?" he asked, finally. He had trained for years to master the body flicker technique, but that was much easier than this because he used his own chakra to vitalize his body and move at inhuman speeds. This felt like some messed up fuinjutsu gone wrong.

"Language, Mr. Potter! Ah, Mr. Uchiha." She admonished. "To answer your question, it was a portkey. Your Hokage's office is not connected to the floo network, so portkey was the only option left for international travel."

"I hate porkteys." He moaned, pushing himself off the wall and moving to follow her out of the alleyway and onto the busy street. "Where are we?"

"We're in London, in the United Kingdom, and its currently 9am here. Hopefully, we will be able to get all of your school supply shopping done by noon so you can go home to your parents and be in bed at a decent time." She replied, leading him down a busy sidewalk crowded with parents and children home for the summer.

He decided not to correct her assumption that he had a family to go home to.

So London is 9 hours behind the Leaf Village.

"Sounds good to me." He replied. They passed book shops and hamburger joints and cinemas and music stores, but nothing that looked like it held the odd assortment school supplies he was supposed to be picking up today.

It must be in a hidden area. But where…?

That's when he saw it, a small, grubby looking pub called The Leaky Cauldron about five more stores up. A crowd of people going passed a little pub as if they quite unnaturally didn't see it.

Genjutsu?

His suspicions were confirmed when the crowd reacted equally unnaturally to her opening the door to the pub and leading him in. The civilians' eyes slid from the record shop on one side of the pub straight to the restaurant on the other side as if The Leaky Cauldron just didn't exist. Similarly, they appeared unable to see anyone who approached it but simultaneously never once bumped into them.

Wow, it would take some complicated fuinjutsu or genjutsu to pull this off back home.

He never would have dreamed of trying to cast a genjutsu this complex because of its many intricate layers of deceit and the sheer chakra consumption it would have required.

You'd have to be an Uzumaki to pull it off!

The pub was a dimly lit with torches, chandeliers, and the occasional candelabra. The table and chairs were all mismatched, as if they'd been t secondhand, in addition to the mismatched stools at the bar. In total, only about ten people including the employees were here today, mostly drinking coffee and eating breakfast.

The low buzz of chatter stopped as they walked in and plenty of people turned around to greet Ms. McGonagall with a smile or a wave. They all seemed to know her, as if she were a regular here. And then they were quickly back to talking and not paying him any mind.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall!" Tom the barkeep called over the sound of music and conversation. "I see you got another first year with you? Welcome to the magical world, young man!"

"Yes, welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, Mr. Potter, and welcome back home to the magical world." Ms. McGonagall said, giving him the first smile he'd seen from her all day.

At Ms. McGonagall's words, the entire pub went dead silent. All ten people inside stopped talking to turn and stare at him in disbelief.

"Good lord, is this – can this be…?" the old bartender Tom said, his voice nothing more than a whisper. "Bless my soul, Harry Potter, what an honor. What an honor."

Tom came around the bar and rushed forward to grab his hands, tears in his eyes. "Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back."

Shisui was shocked. Everyone at the pub had stopped what they were doing and gone stock still, as if Lord Third had walked in the room or something. The two old ladies in the corner drinking sherry had stopped talking and one of them had continued to puff on her cigarette, oblivious to the fact it had already gone out. A bald little old man dropped his glass and it shattered to the floor.

Well, I'm definitely missing something. I know my birth parents were war heroes, but what's going on here?

There was a great scraping of chairs and suddenly Shisui was surrounded by and shaking hands with everyone inside The Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter. I can't believe I'm finally meeting you at last." Said one of the old ladies from the corner who had been sipping on sherry. "Thank you so much, Mr. Potter."

"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud."

"I've always wanted to shake your hand – I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you. Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

At some point during the chaos, someone had ran out and told everyone else, so more people crowded into the tiny pub, including a reporter who was now obnoxiously taking pictures.

Shisui shook everyone's hand, sometimes more than once as Mrs. Crockford kept coming back for just one more handshake, making sure to smile and be pleasant to everyone, no matter how much he didn't like the situation.

Just then, someone ran right up to the roaring fireplace. It was a teenage girl a few years older than him, and she looked very excited and eager to tell her friends all about what just happened. She threw some powder into the fireplace that made the flames turn green and ran right into the fire. It was a very disturbing sight.

"Hey, no, stop!" he yelled.

But instead of burning and screaming and having flesh and muscle melted off her bones, the teenage girl just calmly, clearly called out a name and disappeared. It was actually somewhat like what they had done with the portkey and what he had accidentally done with Kaito.

Huh?

"That's floo transportation, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall explained, seeing the look on his ghostly pale face.

They teleport to someplace else by walking into a roaring fire? Of course. You know, I don't think I like magical transportation at all.

He wasn't quite over feeling shaken up when yet another person came over to greet him. A pale young man possibly in his mid-20's made his way forward, looking very nervous. One of his eyes was twitching. He thought he looked a bit too nervous just to be meeting someone as famous as he apparently was.

Is he afraid of me? Why's he afraid of me? He doesn't even know I'm called Shisui of the Body Flicker in Kumo now.

"Hello, Quirinius. Are you feeling any better since you've been back?" Professor McGonagall said. He thought she asked moreso to be polite than because she really wanted all the details.

People came in from the fireplace via some sort of time/space spell involving green fire to meet him. It was chaotic keeping up with Professor McGonagall and Quirinius as well as all the people who wanted to say hello and shake his hand.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter!"

"Y-y-yes, Minerva. V-very much, thank you." Quirinus replied, stuttering nervously. Whatever he'd started off like, this didn't actually seem better.

"I'm delighted, Mr. Potter. Can't believe I got to meet you."

"Mr. Potter - I apologize, Mr. Uchiha - this is Professor Quirrell. He will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year." Ms. McGonagall said.

"Hello, Mr. Potter, welcome back! This is my daughter, Molly, she's so excited to meet you."

"Mom, its Harry! The Harry Potter!" And so he awkwardly shook hands with the most starstruck seven-year-old little blonde girl he had ever met.

"Hello, Professor Quirrell, I'm pleased to meet you." He said, sticking out his hand to shake because apparently that was the normal greeting here.

"P-P-Potter." Stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping his hand, "C-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you. Y-you'll be g-g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've got to pick up a new b-book on v-v-vampires, myself."

He looks terrified.

"Mum, is that really Harry Potter? I thought he was just a baby!" A little boy around Itachi's age exclaimed, pointing at him rudely, when they got out of the fireplace.

"Well, he was, sweetums." Came his mom's reply. "He's all grown up now and starting Hogwarts, just like your big sister!"

The mother and son pair came to greet him and shake his hand next.

"Hi, Harry! Your name's Harry, just like me! Do you really have a scar that looks like a lightning bolt? Can I see it?" asked the little boy as he tentatively shook his hand. It seemed like the boy hadn't ever shaken anyone's hand before.

"Harold, don't be rude!" admonished his mother. "I apologize, Mr. Potter. Welcome back to the magical world!"

A family of four came through the fireplace followed by an elderly couple and two middle-aged women, all wanting to crowd around him and say hello and shake his hand. Professor Quirrell was pushed to the side and eventually left the room entirely, presumably to buy that book. It was starting to feel suffocating, to be honest, and he still had no idea what he did to make everyone hero worship him like this.

What gives? I'm not Lord Fourth! It can't be just because I'm a ninja. Do they even know anything about ninja? I know nothing about wizards.

Professor McGonagall started trying to part the crowd. "I apologize, everyone but we must be on our way. First year, lots to buy."

When almost no one heard or cared, Professor McGonagall used a spell to make herself heard over the din. "Everyone, let us through. Mr. Potter needs to buy his equipment for Hogwarts."

The crowd parted for them, reluctantly, with many onlookers seeking a final handshake before bidding him goodbye.

"Is Professor Quirrell always that nervous?" he asked, sighing in relief as she led him out back to a small, walled courtyard. It was empty save for a single garbage bin and a few weeds poking up through the cobblestone.

"He was a fine student, yes, if not a bit quiet and awkward." She replied, withdrawing her wand from her cloak. "He always loved Defense Against the Dark Arts. He wants to study vampires and their culture and write a book about them, so took a year off to get firsthand experience in Albania. Word is that he got into a bit of trouble with a vampire and a hag, and he just hasn't been the same since."

He gave a thoughtful hum. "So trauma, then? I guess that makes sense."

He'd had to work with civilians traumatized mid-mission by bandit attacks more than a handful of times.

Still, Professor Quirrell seemed scared of his own shadow now, his own life's work even. Was it normal to be that scared of everything? Should he be suspicious, or is this just how normal civilians reacted around here? He didn't remember ever being afraid of the world like that. Then again, the people here were so much more relaxed than at home. Civilians both within and outside of the Leaf Village were much more cautious than these London folk were, magical or not. With wars always going on, it wasn't safe to travel without a genin or chunin escort back home, yet these people didn't think anything of it.

"Mr. Po - excuse me, Mr. Uchiha, pay attention! I will only show you this once. Watch carefully now." Professor McGonagall said.

She waited until he was watching her carefully, sharingan momentarily activated, before she started counting the bricks up from the center of the garbage bin's lid. "All you do is take your wand, count up three bricks, then two across, and tap it three times. If you forget the pattern just go back inside and ask for Tom the bartender."

To his astonishment, the red brick quivered and wriggled and all of them began to fold back on one another, creating a stone archway for them to pass through and into a busy street full of unfamiliar shops. A cobblestone path led down the shopping district, ending at large, imposing white building at the end called Gringotts.

Another time-space spell? Wow.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Mr. Uchiha." She said, smiling at his amazement as the stone archway folded itself back to normal.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside Potage's Cauldron Shop on the immediate left, making him instinctually flinch and go for a kunai at the light reflected on metal. He relaxed and read the sign in front of the display, still amazed magic enabled him to speak an entirely different language.

Collapsible or self-stirring…copper, pewter, brass, or silver…wonder what the difference is? What class are they for?

"We'll buy your cauldron later, Mr. Potter. Sorry, Mr. Uchiha. First we have to get your money from the Gringotts bank over there." Said Professor McGonagall, pointing to the Gringotts.

"Professor McGonagall, I don't have an account there. I brought money from home, though." He replied, fetching his wallet from his back pocket.

"Your adoptive parents sent you with money? Albus didn't tell them then, did he." She clicked her tongue in displeasure. "Your birth parents left you with a trust fund to pay for your education and everything you might need in the event of their deaths. Until you get your inheritance at 17, of course."

"I have an inheritance? A trust fund? Wait, I'm rich?" he echoed incredulously, putting his wallet away.

Where was this money when he was moving into his own apartment for the first time? He was barely making ends meet back then as a newly promoted chunin after he paid the exorbitantly expensive key money and furnished it.

"Yes, Mr. Uchiha, you are rich. But this is family money, so don't you go wasting it on broomsticks and cards! You have to spend it wisely and make sure it lasts." She said sternly.

"Yes, ma'am. I will." He replied.

She led him up the street slowly, smiling as he took it all in, trying to look at everything and everyone. It appeared that without his name being uttered, most people didn't recognize him. Yet.

I bet I'll be on the front page tomorrow with how they were acting.

He wanted to memorize the layout, sure, but he was also really curious and kind of excited. It was just one street but it had all sorts of interesting peddlers and vendors on the road side between the shops selling things like flowers, roasted chestnuts, roasted marshmallows, and handmade jewelry.

Maybe on the way back I'll grab one for a snack.

The street seemed pretty typical for a shopping district, but everything was busy so it was very crowded and loud. The store fronts were brightly colored with additional rooms or floors added on top that jutted out so far that it couldn't possibly be structurally sound.

I guess that's what magic is for? Maybe they're family-owned stores.

She walked slowly, letting him look at everything and smiling proudly. There was the cauldron shop, an apothecary, a joke shop, a pet store, two different clothing stores and bookshops, a pet store, a junk shop, a tea room, an ice cream parlor, a sweets shop, a newspaper company called The Daily Prophet, and a high-end, expensive clothing store called Twilfitt and Tattings.

They walked up to a tall, imposing, snow-white building guarded by two men in vibrant red suits. The guards bowed at them as they walked up and into the building, so he bowed back, but apparently that was the wrong thing to do because both Professor McGonagall and the guards gave him a look.

"Be respectful, Mr. Uchiha." Professor McGonagall admonished.

But I was?

They entered into a vast marble hall, with at least several dozen employees sitting on high stools behind a counter on either side of the room with offices behind them. Some were talking with clients and others were examining gemstones or weighing coins.

Professor McGonagall led him over to an unoccupied employee named Johnathan.

"Good morning, sir. We've come to take some money out of Mr. Potter's vault." She said, taking a coin purse out of her cloak pocket, taking a gold key out of it, and handing it to Johnathan.

"Yes, Vault Number 687 belonging to the Potter family. This is the key, and it's in good condition. Yes, everything appears to be in order. Will that be all for today?" said Johnathan.

"I'm also here on Hogwarts business for Headmaster Albus Dumbledore." Professor McGonagall added, handing over a letter and sparing him a glance that she held for too long to be accidental. "I am here to retrieve the contents of Vault 713 and take it to Hogwarts."

"Hmm. Yes, I see. One moment, please, I'll get you the Potter's account manager." Johnathan replied, reading over the letter, before turning and yelling to the small offices behind the counter. "Steven!"

A middle-aged man in black slacks, a button up white shirt, and tie walked out of one of the offices labelled Account Manager, around the counter, and over to them.

"Steven, take Ms. McGonagall and Mr. Potter to Vault 687 and Vault 713." Said Johnathan.

"Of course. Hello, Ms. McGonagall. It's been a long time, Mr. Potter. Last time I saw you, you were just a toddler. Albus Dumbledore himself brought you in. I'm Steven Mullpepper, Account Manager for the Potter family and many others." Said Steven.

Steven led them through a set of large bronze doors at the end of the room, which opened up to a surprisingly narrow stone passageway. Train tracks sloped steeply downward and snaked away in multiple directions out of sight. Steven whistled for a cart and they climbed in and then they were off, at top speed, down through the maze of vaults. Shisui grinned as the wind whipped through his hair, reminded of tree hopping back home, but a glance at Professor McGonagall made him somewhat concerned. She was very green in the face and looked sick to her stomach.

"Steven, can you slow the cart down? She doesn't look well." He asked.

"Sorry, one speed only!" Steven replied, yelling over the sound of the wind as the cart took them further and further down, passed an underground lake with stalagmites and stalactites all around.

Within minutes, the cart came to a screeching halt in front of Vault 687. He hopped out easily, but Professor McGonagall stumbled a bit and had to lean against the wall to get her bearings and settle her stomach.

"You alright?" he asked, going over to her instead of following Steven up to the vault.

"I'll be fine, Mr. Potter. I'm just too old for this, that's all." She replied, handing him the coin purse she'd pulled out earlier. "This is for you. Go get your money. Make sure you pull out enough to last until you come back next summer."

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

He walked over to Steven and peered inside his vault, gasping in shock when he saw how much was in it. Piles of gold, silver, and bronze coins filled a vault big enough for an Inuzuka ninken and her litter to comfortably nest in.

"Wow! This is all mine?" he exclaimed.

"How much do I withdraw?" he asked. "I don't know what's what."

"400 galleons is plenty, Mr. Potter. They're the gold ones." Professor McGonagall replied.

They got back in the cart and went to Vault 713. Steven opened it up and Professor McGonagall withdrew a single, small red stone from within. The vault was completely empty now.

Huh. What's a school want to do with a stone? Are they removing it to study for a class?

It didn't escape his notice that Professor McGonagall held his gaze a bit too long as she placed th stone in a pocket in her cloak.

"Alright, we're all done here, Mr. Potter. Let's go to the post office and then we'll get your school equipment."

Once Professor McGonagall was done mailing her letter to Headmaster Dumbledore, they started his school supply purchased the school trunk first so he had something to put it all in, and that was 20 galleons for a nice one with a feather-light charm and wheels on it. Next they went to get his wand, because apparently it was tradition to get your wand on your 11th birthday.

Ollivanders' was a small, cramped little store with narrow boxes piled into shelves all the way up the ceiling, around the shop, and across several narrow aisles. According to the sign out front, it that had been in the family for well over 1500 years.

A row of chairs were situated at the front of the store against the window display, but otherwise the shop was completely devoid of furniture except for the sales counter. Professor McGonagall sat down and it was only then that an old man came over from the back of the shop to help them.

"Good afternoon, young man. Off to Hogwarts? My name is Garrick Ollivander. What might your name be?" he said.

"Shisui Uchiha, Mr. Ollivander, but you might know me as Harry Potter." He replied.

"Ah, Mr. Potter! I wondered when I might be seeing you." He replied, before turning to Professor McGonagall. "Hello again, Minerva. Would you like a cup of tea? I have a fresh pot in the back."

"No thank you, Garrick."

"I always say, the wand choses the wizard, Mr. Potter. Every Ollivander's wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hairs, dragon heartstrings, and phoenix feathers. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns are the same, and nor are two people the same. Its important to always use your wand, don't lend it to someone else or hand it down because you will never get such good results with another person's wand. Understand?"

He nodded. "Yes, sir."

This must be his standard sales pitch he gives to every new customer.

"Now, what to try first? Your mother matched with a willow wand, 10.25 inches, good for charm work, while your father matched with a mahogany wand, 11 inches exactly, well suited for transfiguration. Ah! I know just the thing. One moment, Mr. Potter"

With his good memory, he'd be a dangerous enemy. It'd be dangerous if anyone captured him and interrogated him, too.

Mr. Ollivander retreated into one of the aisles full of wands and came back with a narrow box. He opened it for him and held the wand out for him.

"Try this one." Mr. Ollivander said, handing him a wand with a rather ornate handle. "Acacia and dragon heartstring. Ten and three quarters inches, nice and flexible. Just give it a wave."

Feeling awkward, he did as asked but nothing happened so Mr. Ollivander quickly snatched the wand out of his hand. They tried wand after wand and the pile of rejected wands grew impossibly larger. If anything it just seemed to delight Mr. Ollivander to have a challenging customer, even as he added an Alder and unicorn hair wand to the stack of rejected wands.

"How about this one, Mr. Potter." Said Mr. Ollivander, handing him another wand. "Cypress and dragon heartstring, 11 inches, nice and supple."

He gave it a wave, and almost as soon as he'd waved it the wand was snatched out of his hands.

"No, no not quite. Don't you worry! We will find you your perfect match here somewhere. Let's see now…" then, a thought seemed to occur to him, because he went still and suddenly fixed his pale grey eyes right on his forehead protector. It was strange, though, because he didn't seem to be focused on the Leaf symbol engraved there.

"I wonder, now…yes, why not. One moment, Mr. Potter." Mr. Ollivander said, looking somewhat disturbed as he disappeared into the far back of his shop.

He returned holding another narrow box containing a wand. "Mr. Potter, I remember every wand I've ever sold, and every customer that's ever walked through those doors. It just so happens that I sold the wand that gave you that lightning bolt scar fifty-three years ago. Yew and phoenix feather, thirteen and a half inches. It also just so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather resides in the yew wand gave just one other feather."

Mr. Ollivander opened the box carefully and gently handed him the wand. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

He gave it a wave, just like all the others, but still nothing happened. Mr. Ollivander seemed very disappointed.

"Well, it was worth a try." Mr. Ollivander put the wand back in its box and added it to the ever growing reject pile. "I wonder if I have perhaps misjudged you. Here, try this one. Ebony and unicorn hair, 11 inches, nice and supple."

He waved the wand and suddenly a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end of it like fireworks.

"Oh, bravo! Very good, Mr. Potter! Fascinating." Mr. Ollivander cheered, genuinely smiling. "I was so sure you would match with the holly wand, when its brother gave you that scar. Curious, curious…will you be putting the wand in your trunk, or would you like a bag, Mr. Potter?"

"I'll put it in my trunk, thanks." He said, taking the wand in its box and setting it in his otherwise empty trunk.

His cauldron was 15 galleons, books were 15 galleons for the lot, the gloves were 3 galleons, the brass scales were 3 galleons, the set of glass phials were also 3 galleons, and the telescope was 5 galleons. His robes, purchased brand new with some room to grow added at the hems were 80 galleons for the set of 3 plus the hat, and his winter robe was 40 galleons brand new. A couple of galleons were spent stocking up on parchment, quills, and ink.

"Would you like a pet, Mr. Potter? Uchiha, sorry." Professor McGonagall asked. "I wouldn't recommend getting a toad, but cats make good companions and owls are very useful for sending letters home."

"No, I'm good. I have my crows back home, I'll just take one of them to Hogwarts. Probably Piiko." He replied, smiling in amusement when he saw her shiver at the word toads.

Someone's afraid of toads.

"Alright, Mr. Uchiha. That will be fine. It's nearly noon, so let's go have lunch. How about Rosa Lee Teabag's Tea Room?" Professor McGonagall suggested.

He nodded, not really caring eitherway. "Sure, sounds good."

They sat down at a somewhat dated looking tea parlor frequented mostly by the older crowd. He ordered a quiche and some tea, as did Professor McGonagall, and the food came out quickly enough.

"So, Professor, why am I famous?" he asked. "I mean, I know Lily and James were war heroes, but why does everyone see me as some hero, too? I would've just been a baby back then. That wand salesman even knew about my scar, and I've got it covered up."

"You don't know? I assumed you had just never been back to the magical world." Professor McGonagall exclaimed.

"I don't know what, Professor?" he asked.

"Your mum and dad weren't just war heroes, Harry. Shisui, Shisui I apologize. They weren't the ones who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and made him disappear for the past ten years, Shisui. It was you. That's why you have the lightning bolt scar on your forehead that everyone knows you for. It's from the killing curse that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named fired at you in your crib. You're the first one to survive it. It's unblockable. He broke in and killed your mum and dad with it, but it just bounced off you and backfired on him, killing him. That's why your famous, Shisui. No one knows why it backfired, but I'm sure Albus has some ideas."

He chewed slowly, contemplatively.

The way the story had been told to him by his mom and great grandpa, with their limited information, he had assumed that they had died in combat but apparently, they just had their house broken into. It was somewhat disturbing, hearing that his birth parents had died so differently to what he had been told.

How does a baby counter a spell that's supposedly unblockable? And how'd they even know it was the killing curse? Why do they not use the warlord's name? Does the killing curse always leave a lightning bolt scar and I just happened to survive somehow?

"Are you alright, Mr. Uchiha?" Professor McGonagall asked gently.

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just confused, that's all. Why don't you call the enemy by his name?" he asked.

"We were at war with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named for an entire decade, Shisui. He put a taboo on his name, it's a type of curse." She replied. "Saying his name out loud triggered the taboo, and anyone who dared say his name was surrounded immediately and killed for it. Even his followers did not say his name, they called him the Dark Lord."

"Okay. That makes sense." He replied, taking a few more bites of the quiche. He would gather intel now and process it later. "So he broke in, killed my mum and dad, and tried to kill me but I lived so it backfired, and nobody knows why. How do they know it was the killing curse? Does it always leave a lightning bolt scar?"

Maybe I'm not the only one with such a distinctive scar running around here. At least my forehead protector covers it.

"No, Mr. Potter, it has never left a lighting bolt scar before you." Professor McGongall replied, finishing her tea and stopping the waitress to ask for more. "But to answer your question, they performed investigative spells at the scene to see what spells were used in the past 24 hours in order. Its standard auror procedure. They're like the police for our folk."

So much for that. I'm the only person in the world with a lighting bolt scar.

"Got it. Albus is the headmaster right? Can I ask him about theories sometime?" he asked.

"Certainly, Mr. Potter. Now, enough questions. I need to discuss the arrangements for your speaking English. There are two options, neither of which Hogwarts' Board of Directors has agreed to pay for so you will be footing the bill on your own. The first option is to buy a language enchanted earring made with ancient runes from a shop in Knockturn Alley. It costs 200 galleons for a simple one, so it's much more affordable because they're relatively easy to produce, but they're also vulnerable to wear and tear over time and if you lose it you will have to replace it. The second, the most expensive and only permanent option is to get a language potion from the apothecary down the road. It costs 1000 galleons and you'll have a splitting headache for a week, but you won't have to worry about losing an earring. Which one would you like?"

He thought for a moment, absently flicking the fork around in his hand. The 200 galleons he had spent today hadn't put a dent in his fortune, and he assumed his schooling would always be about that much. Maybe a bit more sometimes. He didn't expect to stay in the magical world, much less live to see 20, so maybe he'd go for the potion.

Planning for the future is for people who have a future. I'm an assassin in the making.

Everyone back home knew he was a shoe-in for the ANBU someday, he just wasn't old enough yet.

"I'll take the potion then, Professor McGonagall." He replied, finishing the last of his food.

So they went back to the bank and he got to go down on his own this time. Then they went and bought the potion, took it, and he was back home in about thirty minutes. This time, he used the body flicker to vitalize his body just before the portkey activated, along with his sharingan, and it made it much easier to bear.


Author's Note: I hit a bit of a roadblock with the last one, so I just rewrote it save for chapter 1. Again. For what's got to be the fifth time now. My biggest issue is getting through the set up and planning missions for him to go on, to be honest. I can't wait for him to get to Hogwarts but I also have no clue what house I should put him in. Also, the wands from Ollivander's were some of the wand woods I wanted to decide between and I'm still not sure I picked the right one. I figure he can't get the holly wand cause he's not just Harry at this point.