Harry Saotome and the Philosopher's Stone
Chapter II
"School Days"
The next morning at breakfast, Akane was glaring at a male Ranma, her new fiancé. Which was all right considering, that he was glaring back at her.
As this staring contest was going on, young Harry was looking down at the table with a constant blush/ this was due to the fact that his own fiancé gave him a very charming smile and wink, when he looked up.
At the head of the table, the families' patriarchs smiled to each other.
"Look at how well our children are getting along Tendo!" exclaimed Genma.
Soun sniffed back a joyful tear. "Yes, Saotome, I do. It's our dreams come true!" He broke down into a full wail.
"There, there father no need for that," Kasumi said as she patted him on the back. "But I wonder how they will all fair at school today?"
Ranma and Harry looked up at the two fathers.
"We're gonna start school today?" asked Ranma in a curious voice.
Akane gave him a disdainful look. "What? You expected to just lounge around here all day, like a freeloader or something?"
He shook his head. "No. I mean this is just kind of fast, don't you think? This sort of thing would take a lot of paperwork."
"I did all the paper work last night, all that's left to do, is deliver it," Nabiki told him. "So don't worry about a thing."
Harry started to say something, but Ranma cut him off.
"What about Harry?" he asked. "None you expected him, so how is he gonna go to school?"
Nabiki looked at her watch and sighed. "Listen, when I say I have everything covered, it's covered." Ranma nodded as she stood. "But I need to drop these papers of, so I'll be leaving."
Before she left the room, she turned around, "Harry, come with me and I'll show you the way."
"Sure," he said. "Thanks for the meal Kasumi, it was very good."
She beamed at him. "Thank you Harry-kun. And I think you'll be needing this." She handed him a light backpack.
"Thanks," was his hasty reply as he followed his fiancé.
Ranma bit his lip for a moment before resuming his meal.
He and Akane left for school a few minutes later. Or more accurately, she left and he ran after her. The entire walk over she stayed in front of him, at a fair distance.
When they neared the gates, she turned towards him.
"You don't know me, she told him, "So don't interfere."
Ranma scratched his head. "Sure, I guess."
She nodded and proceeded through the gates, and to Ranma's amazement a huge mass of boys came from out of nowhere, and rushed the girl.
"I knew I should have done the paperwork myself," he muttered to himself, as his fiancé's battle cry of "Hate! Boys!" rang out.
Harry watched his fiancé leave the elementary school yard. They had just come from the principle's office, where they had a meeting with the man.
It seems that the last student to transfer to Miyamoto Elementary was a street punk in the making, and had caused a lot of trouble. He would have been expelled ages ago, but the boy's parents contributed an obscene amount of money to the school.
Mr. Yamaha, the principle, simply wanted to prevent that sort of thing from happening again. Needless to say, he was quite pleased to lean that Harry was a fully trained martial artist who lived by a strict code of honor.
As Harry mulled over that an unseen, and very wide, shadow fell over his back.
"Well," said a grating voice that put a sweaty palm on Harry's shoulder. "What do we have here? A little freak maybe?"
A number of voices began to agree with the grating voice.
"Yeah! Freak!"
"Maybe he should pay us the usual door fare?"
"Good one Dudley!"
The eyeglass-wearing boy turned around and looked at the gang's leader. He was quite heavy set, had a good half-foot on Harry, and he was also a foreigner, as denoted by his blue eyes and blond hair. But Harry could tell that Dudley had no skill in fighting, so he wasn't afraid.
"Man!" exclaimed one of the fat boy's lackeys. "Look at that ugly birthmark!"
Harry did not bother to cover the lighting bolt-shaped scar that ran down the middle of his forehead.
Dudley smiled. "Alright kid, here's the deal. You give us you're money, and we don't beat you up."
Harry rubbed his chin as he cast the rest of the schoolyard a glance. The other children either had looks of relief, or, were give him a sympathetic look. All of the teachers present had a look of disgust on their faces. Harry was not quite sure weather it was directed at the gang, or at the their own inability to help.
"I'm afraid that I have no money," he told them.
Dudley gave him a sinister grin.
"That's alright, I just get a new punching bag. That's all."
The gang members advanced on Harry. He gave them a knowing smirk.
"Now, ganging up on a single person doesn't seem very honorable," he told them. "So don't expect me to hold back. At all."
The crowd, which was prepared to help to poor boy after he had been beaten up, watched in total amazement as he proceeded to beat the snot out of Dudley's gang; all five of them, excluding Dudley.
"My name is Harry Saotome, practitioner of the Saotome school of anything goes martial arts," he told Dudley as he walked by him.
The boy, who was on his knees at the time, fell flat on his face out cold.
Harry ignored the cheering crowd, and walked through the front doors.
Ranma hopped down from the school wall and surveyed the damage.
He spotted over fifty broken makeshift weapons; these were mostly comprised of baseball bats, hockey sticks, and golf clubs. Also found, were nearly eighty boys between the ages of fourteen and seventeen, all of which were unconscious.
At the center of the carnage was a well of infinite anger in the form of a certain dark haired girl. Ranma grinned at her as he stepped closer to her.
"Hey! That was pretty good, Akane," he told her with a smile.
Akane blinked and the look of ultimate anger left her face. "Really, you think so?"
Ranma nodded. "Yeah, you're pretty good, but with a little-"
He cut himself off as he grabbed a thrown object from the air. Upon further inspection, he found it to be a rose.
"Who the hell is throwing this at you?" he asked rhetorically.
Suddenly, an older dark haired boy in a deep blue kimono appeared from nowhere. He smiled at Akane but when he noticed Ranma holding his rose, his smile turned into a scowl.
"Who dares come between my love and I?" the boy asked in a raised voice as he advanced on Ranma.
The pigtailed youth gave the older boy a questioning look.
"You mean you're in love with this tomboy?" he asked, pointing his thumb at the angry, once more, girl behind him.
The older boy began seething. "How dare you insult the flower of Takewaki Kuno's heart!" he yelled out as he pulled a Bokken from nowhere. "Have at thee!"
Kuno leaped high into the air with his weapon raised over his head. He descended as gracefully as a heron flies through the endless sky. The swing of the blow was sure, swift, and full of vigor.
But when he landed, he found that his opponent was not there.
"What is this trickery?" he exclaimed to the open air.
Ranma snorted right behind his back. "This ain't no trick."
The kendoist whirled towards Ranma's voice. A look of distain crossed his face.
"You fight without restraint, Kuno," Ranma told the other boy. "You could have hurt some innocent without knowing."
"You will refer to me as upperclassmen," Kuno ordered him, as if he had said nothing.
"I didn't really want to do anything like this on my first day, but I can make an exception. I might as well have some fun while I'm at it. So I'll go easy on you."
"Enough!" yelled Kuno. "I will end your insufferable blathering!"
He swung at Ranma's midsection, but the pigtailed boy dodged and made a sweep at his legs. Kuno leapt over the attack, and brought down a crushing blow as he landed. Ranma dodged to the left and struck at the Kendoist's right side. Kuno hopped back, out of the attack's path.
As the fight drug on, Akane became angrier. 'How dare he! How could he do this to me! After all this time, he was holding back!' she thought to herself.
She stomped towards the two. The fact that neither acknowledged her presence only added fuel to the fire.
With a vain to the eye, she pulled a large mallet from nowhere and knocked the pair into the air.
After putting her mallet back from wherever it came from she walked into the front door, and completely ignored the cry of "Pigtailed Goddess!" from the pool.
Many hours later, halfway around the world.
Two men sat on either side of a large oak desk. The first man, sitting with his back to the door, was short, portly, and wore a bowler. He had perplexed look on his face.
The second man, who faced the door therefore marking him as the owner of the desk, was quite old. His gray eyes spoke of wisdom, courage, and sacrifice, but they had also seen much pain and suffering. His beard was very long and as snow white as his hair. On his head was a mouse colored hat that had seen better days. He had a warm smile on his lips.
The room was large and spacious and had high windows that showed the setting sun. The floor was of gleaming marble tiles. On the right side of the room was a long table that held a number of odd devises that made strange musical sounds that intermixed to form a symphony that delighted the ear.
Next to the desk was a large iron-wrought bird-stand, which bore a large flaming red bird of prey that was unlike any other avian in the world.
The only other note of interest was that the walls were covered in portraits of aged men and women. All of which seemed to be watching the older man.
"Albus," began the first man. "I don't understand why you had me come so suddenly. I am a busy man, being the Minister of Magic and all"
"I am aware of that, Cornelius," said Albus. "But I have great news."
Cornelius rubbed his chin. "What could be so great Albus?"
Albus' eyes seemed to twinkle with mirth. "We have found him."
"Found who?" asked Cornelius.
"The boy who lived, and was lost."
The shorter man shot up in his seat. "What? This is great news Albus!" he exclaimed. "But where has he been?"
Albus cleared his throat. "Well as you already know, we have been monitoring all of the muggle schools in the world in hopes that he would be found. I had almost called of the search, when the report came in this morning."
He pulled out a piece of parchment, and read from it. " 'This morning at exactly midnight, London time, a boy by the name of Harry Saotome was enrolled in Miyamoto elementary, of the Nerima District of Tokyo. He is lean, average height, has green eyes, midnight-black hair, and has a lighting bolt shaped scar that runs down the middle of his forehead.'"
A moment's silence filled the room. But Cornelius soon broke it.
"I presume the potions master is preparing a linguistics brew, as we speak?"
Albus nodded.
Cornelius smiled as he stood up. "I will make an announcement, immediately." He shook Albus' hand and was soon out the door.
"The old man stayed in his chair and watched the moon rise. The light made his beard seem to be made of silver.
"James, I'm sorry," the old man said to himself. "I was a terrible decision I that day. But I have a feeling it turned out for the best."
The fiery bird began singing under the moonlight, and it filled the Scottish castle with a haunting melody.
Written by Baladar. Send all comments to Tasslehoff_11@yahoo.com
Rumiko Takahashi owns Ranma½.
J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.
Chapter II
"School Days"
The next morning at breakfast, Akane was glaring at a male Ranma, her new fiancé. Which was all right considering, that he was glaring back at her.
As this staring contest was going on, young Harry was looking down at the table with a constant blush/ this was due to the fact that his own fiancé gave him a very charming smile and wink, when he looked up.
At the head of the table, the families' patriarchs smiled to each other.
"Look at how well our children are getting along Tendo!" exclaimed Genma.
Soun sniffed back a joyful tear. "Yes, Saotome, I do. It's our dreams come true!" He broke down into a full wail.
"There, there father no need for that," Kasumi said as she patted him on the back. "But I wonder how they will all fair at school today?"
Ranma and Harry looked up at the two fathers.
"We're gonna start school today?" asked Ranma in a curious voice.
Akane gave him a disdainful look. "What? You expected to just lounge around here all day, like a freeloader or something?"
He shook his head. "No. I mean this is just kind of fast, don't you think? This sort of thing would take a lot of paperwork."
"I did all the paper work last night, all that's left to do, is deliver it," Nabiki told him. "So don't worry about a thing."
Harry started to say something, but Ranma cut him off.
"What about Harry?" he asked. "None you expected him, so how is he gonna go to school?"
Nabiki looked at her watch and sighed. "Listen, when I say I have everything covered, it's covered." Ranma nodded as she stood. "But I need to drop these papers of, so I'll be leaving."
Before she left the room, she turned around, "Harry, come with me and I'll show you the way."
"Sure," he said. "Thanks for the meal Kasumi, it was very good."
She beamed at him. "Thank you Harry-kun. And I think you'll be needing this." She handed him a light backpack.
"Thanks," was his hasty reply as he followed his fiancé.
Ranma bit his lip for a moment before resuming his meal.
He and Akane left for school a few minutes later. Or more accurately, she left and he ran after her. The entire walk over she stayed in front of him, at a fair distance.
When they neared the gates, she turned towards him.
"You don't know me, she told him, "So don't interfere."
Ranma scratched his head. "Sure, I guess."
She nodded and proceeded through the gates, and to Ranma's amazement a huge mass of boys came from out of nowhere, and rushed the girl.
"I knew I should have done the paperwork myself," he muttered to himself, as his fiancé's battle cry of "Hate! Boys!" rang out.
Harry watched his fiancé leave the elementary school yard. They had just come from the principle's office, where they had a meeting with the man.
It seems that the last student to transfer to Miyamoto Elementary was a street punk in the making, and had caused a lot of trouble. He would have been expelled ages ago, but the boy's parents contributed an obscene amount of money to the school.
Mr. Yamaha, the principle, simply wanted to prevent that sort of thing from happening again. Needless to say, he was quite pleased to lean that Harry was a fully trained martial artist who lived by a strict code of honor.
As Harry mulled over that an unseen, and very wide, shadow fell over his back.
"Well," said a grating voice that put a sweaty palm on Harry's shoulder. "What do we have here? A little freak maybe?"
A number of voices began to agree with the grating voice.
"Yeah! Freak!"
"Maybe he should pay us the usual door fare?"
"Good one Dudley!"
The eyeglass-wearing boy turned around and looked at the gang's leader. He was quite heavy set, had a good half-foot on Harry, and he was also a foreigner, as denoted by his blue eyes and blond hair. But Harry could tell that Dudley had no skill in fighting, so he wasn't afraid.
"Man!" exclaimed one of the fat boy's lackeys. "Look at that ugly birthmark!"
Harry did not bother to cover the lighting bolt-shaped scar that ran down the middle of his forehead.
Dudley smiled. "Alright kid, here's the deal. You give us you're money, and we don't beat you up."
Harry rubbed his chin as he cast the rest of the schoolyard a glance. The other children either had looks of relief, or, were give him a sympathetic look. All of the teachers present had a look of disgust on their faces. Harry was not quite sure weather it was directed at the gang, or at the their own inability to help.
"I'm afraid that I have no money," he told them.
Dudley gave him a sinister grin.
"That's alright, I just get a new punching bag. That's all."
The gang members advanced on Harry. He gave them a knowing smirk.
"Now, ganging up on a single person doesn't seem very honorable," he told them. "So don't expect me to hold back. At all."
The crowd, which was prepared to help to poor boy after he had been beaten up, watched in total amazement as he proceeded to beat the snot out of Dudley's gang; all five of them, excluding Dudley.
"My name is Harry Saotome, practitioner of the Saotome school of anything goes martial arts," he told Dudley as he walked by him.
The boy, who was on his knees at the time, fell flat on his face out cold.
Harry ignored the cheering crowd, and walked through the front doors.
Ranma hopped down from the school wall and surveyed the damage.
He spotted over fifty broken makeshift weapons; these were mostly comprised of baseball bats, hockey sticks, and golf clubs. Also found, were nearly eighty boys between the ages of fourteen and seventeen, all of which were unconscious.
At the center of the carnage was a well of infinite anger in the form of a certain dark haired girl. Ranma grinned at her as he stepped closer to her.
"Hey! That was pretty good, Akane," he told her with a smile.
Akane blinked and the look of ultimate anger left her face. "Really, you think so?"
Ranma nodded. "Yeah, you're pretty good, but with a little-"
He cut himself off as he grabbed a thrown object from the air. Upon further inspection, he found it to be a rose.
"Who the hell is throwing this at you?" he asked rhetorically.
Suddenly, an older dark haired boy in a deep blue kimono appeared from nowhere. He smiled at Akane but when he noticed Ranma holding his rose, his smile turned into a scowl.
"Who dares come between my love and I?" the boy asked in a raised voice as he advanced on Ranma.
The pigtailed youth gave the older boy a questioning look.
"You mean you're in love with this tomboy?" he asked, pointing his thumb at the angry, once more, girl behind him.
The older boy began seething. "How dare you insult the flower of Takewaki Kuno's heart!" he yelled out as he pulled a Bokken from nowhere. "Have at thee!"
Kuno leaped high into the air with his weapon raised over his head. He descended as gracefully as a heron flies through the endless sky. The swing of the blow was sure, swift, and full of vigor.
But when he landed, he found that his opponent was not there.
"What is this trickery?" he exclaimed to the open air.
Ranma snorted right behind his back. "This ain't no trick."
The kendoist whirled towards Ranma's voice. A look of distain crossed his face.
"You fight without restraint, Kuno," Ranma told the other boy. "You could have hurt some innocent without knowing."
"You will refer to me as upperclassmen," Kuno ordered him, as if he had said nothing.
"I didn't really want to do anything like this on my first day, but I can make an exception. I might as well have some fun while I'm at it. So I'll go easy on you."
"Enough!" yelled Kuno. "I will end your insufferable blathering!"
He swung at Ranma's midsection, but the pigtailed boy dodged and made a sweep at his legs. Kuno leapt over the attack, and brought down a crushing blow as he landed. Ranma dodged to the left and struck at the Kendoist's right side. Kuno hopped back, out of the attack's path.
As the fight drug on, Akane became angrier. 'How dare he! How could he do this to me! After all this time, he was holding back!' she thought to herself.
She stomped towards the two. The fact that neither acknowledged her presence only added fuel to the fire.
With a vain to the eye, she pulled a large mallet from nowhere and knocked the pair into the air.
After putting her mallet back from wherever it came from she walked into the front door, and completely ignored the cry of "Pigtailed Goddess!" from the pool.
Many hours later, halfway around the world.
Two men sat on either side of a large oak desk. The first man, sitting with his back to the door, was short, portly, and wore a bowler. He had perplexed look on his face.
The second man, who faced the door therefore marking him as the owner of the desk, was quite old. His gray eyes spoke of wisdom, courage, and sacrifice, but they had also seen much pain and suffering. His beard was very long and as snow white as his hair. On his head was a mouse colored hat that had seen better days. He had a warm smile on his lips.
The room was large and spacious and had high windows that showed the setting sun. The floor was of gleaming marble tiles. On the right side of the room was a long table that held a number of odd devises that made strange musical sounds that intermixed to form a symphony that delighted the ear.
Next to the desk was a large iron-wrought bird-stand, which bore a large flaming red bird of prey that was unlike any other avian in the world.
The only other note of interest was that the walls were covered in portraits of aged men and women. All of which seemed to be watching the older man.
"Albus," began the first man. "I don't understand why you had me come so suddenly. I am a busy man, being the Minister of Magic and all"
"I am aware of that, Cornelius," said Albus. "But I have great news."
Cornelius rubbed his chin. "What could be so great Albus?"
Albus' eyes seemed to twinkle with mirth. "We have found him."
"Found who?" asked Cornelius.
"The boy who lived, and was lost."
The shorter man shot up in his seat. "What? This is great news Albus!" he exclaimed. "But where has he been?"
Albus cleared his throat. "Well as you already know, we have been monitoring all of the muggle schools in the world in hopes that he would be found. I had almost called of the search, when the report came in this morning."
He pulled out a piece of parchment, and read from it. " 'This morning at exactly midnight, London time, a boy by the name of Harry Saotome was enrolled in Miyamoto elementary, of the Nerima District of Tokyo. He is lean, average height, has green eyes, midnight-black hair, and has a lighting bolt shaped scar that runs down the middle of his forehead.'"
A moment's silence filled the room. But Cornelius soon broke it.
"I presume the potions master is preparing a linguistics brew, as we speak?"
Albus nodded.
Cornelius smiled as he stood up. "I will make an announcement, immediately." He shook Albus' hand and was soon out the door.
"The old man stayed in his chair and watched the moon rise. The light made his beard seem to be made of silver.
"James, I'm sorry," the old man said to himself. "I was a terrible decision I that day. But I have a feeling it turned out for the best."
The fiery bird began singing under the moonlight, and it filled the Scottish castle with a haunting melody.
Written by Baladar. Send all comments to Tasslehoff_11@yahoo.com
Rumiko Takahashi owns Ranma½.
J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.