All right, here's another chapter for all of you, and I hope you like it as much as you did the Prologue.

Important Info: There is seven years and seven months time difference between Harry's world, and Bunny's world.

Summery: They expected so much from him, that no one ever thought the Boy Who Lived, would ever fail. Now he's given a second chance to save his world by none other, than the Sailor Senshi.

Warnings: Rated PG-13 for some mature situations. Character death. Character OOC (Out of Character). Brief nudity, (not in this chapter mind you). Profanity sometime... In the future. And I think that's it for now.

Thanks: LiLSeReNiTiE, Flame Ivy Moon, pumpunita, datajana, Usagi Asia Maxwell, Fiona X.

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Chapter one:

Center of Tokyo, Japan

Early December, 2004

I'm alive, he wondered with amazement. But how?

Harry opened his eyes carefully, and found that he was unable to focus on the ceiling above him. Where am I?

Groaning, he felt the aches in his body swamp his senses, but at least he could understand them. Being hit with a Crucio several times wasn't a pleasant feeling, and he expected to feel the aches for some time.

But the fact that he could feel, was startling. I should be dead, he thought morbidly to himself. Not that he was complaining. He didn't have a death wish like most believed, but he had been hit by the killing curse. He knew it and yet he found himself alive, and in a whole lot of pain.

"If you can feel, then that means you're going to be all right," a voice at his right told him. Turning his head in that direction, Harry regarded the blurred figure.

"Here, I fixed them for you," came the reply, just before his glasses were slipped back onto his face. "You were a mess when I brought you in, but I fixed you right up."

Harry stared at the child who sat next to the bed he was lying in. In fact, he came to realize he was in a rather well done up room, with plenty of free space. The bed he was in wasn't hard, and yet it wasn't overly soft either. Quite to his liking, in fact.

Turning his attention back to the child, he studied her rounded face. She couldn't have been much older than nine or ten years old. And yet her eyes, hauntingly reminding him of the pair he stared into every morning upon waking.

Black orbs stared at him curiously, their depth lacking the childish nature they should have held. "Who are you," he managed to croak. His throat was rather dry and crackly.

"You may call me Hotaru," she replied softly. "Setsuna mama told me you are Harry Potter?" she asked sounding unsure of herself.

Harry nodded in confirmation, and found that he had brought a smile to the girl's face. "Well Harry Potter," she began, her small hands lifting to touch his middle. "I'm nearly finished, so if you'll just relax I'll make you as good as new."

His brows knitted together, his lips pursing together. Just how was she going to make him feel better, he wondered. And it was then he felt the warmth. Lowering his gaze from her face, he stared at her hands, which hovered hardly an inch above the gash that had been caused by his foolishness.

Voldemort had managed to strike first with an Expelleramus, and had knocked him across the battlefield, in which he had landed badly on either a sharp piece of metal or broken shard of glass. Not a very good way to start a battle he had soon come to realize.

Lifting his eyes to the girl face, he noted the look of concentration as she stared at where her hands were. The warmth slowly began to spread, and quickly devoured the gash.

Bloody hell, he groaned, his eyes screwing shut against the heat. She was going to burn him alive. Forcing his eyes open, Harry looked at where her hands were. A soft violet glow surrounded the empty space between her fingertips and his stomach.

Drawing in a shuddered breath, he felt the heat crawl along his body, consuming his insides, till everything burned. He let out a whimper, his eyes closing against the pain, a feeling he thought he should be used to by now. Instead of fighting against the pain, and with the lack of energy he had to begin with, he fainted.

His body was just too exhausted to last any longer.

----

When Harry woke again, he felt exceedingly better. "What the hell happened Setsuna!" a voice from somewhere below him roared, which was quickly followed by the slamming of a door.

Setsuna? he wondered, the name sounding familiar, and yet not entirely. Rolling over onto his side, Harry threw off the blankets that had been covering him.

He got to his feet without needing any help. His brows lifted as he stood there, strange how there were no more aches. His knees didn't buckle under his weight, and his vision was as clear as they could be without his glasses.

Reaching for the pair on the nightstand next to the bed, he slipped them on. He blinked to clear his vision, his eyes focusing on the bedroom before him.

Remembering the last time he had woken in this room, he turned his eyes to the empty chair pulled up next to the bed he had been sleeping in. Quite peacefully in fact. No nightmares, no haunting memories, he thought to himself. A good night's sleep, something he hadn't had for two years now.

Harry lifted his hand to touch the scar on his forehead. It didn't burn, didn't even itch. Everyone must be worried, he thought, taking an unconscious step towards the door.

I should be dead, he suddenly realized. He remembered the green light, the killing curse hitting him. ...And then nothing.

Harry stumbled back, his eyes filling up with more tears. "I should be dead," he repeated hoarsely. He fell back onto the bed, sitting there with his head in his hands.

"I failed at defeating him," he added, his voice strained by the thick emotions storming inside him. Above him the light flickered, and then flickered again when a sob escaped through his pursed lips.

"What the hell was that?" someone asked, sounding close.

"The Boy-Who-Lived," he mocked, his eyes blurred by his tears, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm the Boy-Who-Failed."

"Not yet," someone answered. The voice sounded so familiar, that Harry lifted his head towards the doorway. Sometime during his spiel, someone had walked into the room. "Who are you," he moaned, his eyes looking tormented as he stared at the two women.

"I'm Setsuna," the taller woman greeted, and bowed slightly. "You're not a failure Harry Potter, you're only sixteen years old."

Harry shrugged, his should lifting and falling in a defeated manner. "But I was supposed to defeat Voldemort, and I failed. Who will, now that I couldn't?" he replied. He was mildly surprised to see that neither women shuddered at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "It's in the Prophecy," he added, trying to convey that his life was written out in stone. It was either kill or be killed.

The woman named Setsuna shook her head sadly. "You're a sixteen year old child who was never given the chance to live, Harry," she said, her voice sounding sad.

Harry wiped at his eyes, ridding himself of the weakness he had let get a hold of him. Blinking rapidly, he cleared his vision, and focused his gaze on the two women, who stood before him.

Staring transfixed, Harry was startled at the sight of two beautiful women. Not even Cho could hold up to these women's beauty. Where the hell am I? he wondered looking around. "Just as Hotaru has never been given the chance to live," the older woman continued.

Hotaru?

That little girl, he thought, remembering the child with short dark hair and dark eyes. Glowing hands.

"Are those his?" the second woman asked, her finger jabbing in the direction of the dirty towels. Reddish orange splotches stained the once pure white cloths.

Blood, that's my blood, he wondered. Funny, how he didn't feel like he had lost that much blood. Looking down at himself, his eyes scanned his robes. They were just as bloody. Torn in all the places they should be. Tugging at one rather large gash in his clothes, he stared at the bare skin underneath. Flawless skin greeted him.

Not even a scar, he marveled. Not a single scratch.

"Hotaru had managed to get you in time, but you had sustained quite a few injuries," Setsuna said carefully.

"How long have I been here," he asked, looking back at them. "Three days," came the quick reply.

Not even Madam Pomfry's could heal someone that quick. Harry remembered staying in the Hospital wing for over a week, after that time he had been hit by a bludger and knocked off his broom during their last Quidditch game. And all he had had was a broken leg and a few bruised ribs.

But after what he had been through with Voldemort, how could he be healed, and so quickly? As if sensing his questions, Setsuna took a tentative step towards him.

"You're world has great magic Harry, but in our world, ours is even greater," she explained carefully. "Michiru, bring her in."

Looking up again, Harry jumped to his feet, to find a third woman enter the room. Only this one carried a baby in her arms.

"I'm Setsuna, and these are my friends, Haruka," she introduce, pointing to each woman in turn. Haruka had been the one to enter with Setsuna. "Michiru, her partner, and you've already met Hotaru."

Harry expected to see the solemn child come in next, but she never did. Drawing his brows together, he hesitantly looked at the baby in Michiru arms. Dark tuffs of hair surrounded a pale face, while a pair of sad dark eyes stared out towards him.

A memory of seeing the child in Peter Pettigrew's arms came to mind. Voldemort reborn. Taking an unconscious step back, he shuddered at that memory. The first time he had come close to losing his life.

"Hotaru has the gift to heal," Setsuna continued. "But to use it, weakens her greatly."

Harry thought about the injuries Voldemort had given him, all the spells he had been unable to avoid. Crusio, Expellaramus, Stupify, and many others. So many others. Each one had done a number on him, and each one weakened him greatly. And then finally the Killing Curse.

Lowering his eyes back to the baby, he felt his heart clench tightly in his chest. His mind focused on the child who had been there when he had first awaken. The glowing light that had entered his body, heating his blood.

"She healed me," he said aloud, his voice echoing in the silent room.

"Yes," came the unexpected reply. Harry looked at the smaller woman, her face set with an expression of deep sorrow. "But of her own free will, and in the end her heart failed her."

Holding the child out to him, Michiru sent him a small smile. "Hotaru has the gift to heal, but the curse of rebirth." Harry found himself taking Hotaru from the older woman. Clutching the infant to his chest, he stared down at a familiar rounded face.

Deep dark sorrowful eyes stared up at him.

"Hotaru gave you a second chance, Harry," Setsuna began to explain, drawing his attention away from the silent child. "The Prophecy has told you, that to truly live, either you or Voldemort must die.

"We have just the person to help you prepare for your last battle with Voldemort."

Harry let the older woman lead him out of the room and into a hallway. "My friends and I are guardians of this Planet Earth, one similar to the one you exist on," she continued. "Magic here is very small, a select few able to wield such powers.

"And we may not be plagued by the legend of Lord Voldemort as yours is, but we have our own set enemies we fight against."

"We'll need to enter him into the school here," Michiru slipped in casually. "The Princess must decide whether he is worthy."

Harry frowned, his eyes darting from one to the other. What kind of place was this? If he was a muggle still, he wouldn't have believed a word these women had told him. But since he was a wizard, it wasn't a big surprise how weird and strange things could actually get.

"There's a Princess?" he asked, addressing Setsuna. The woman only smiled in turn. "I know you wish to see your friends and loved ones, and they do miss you," she said instead of answering his question. "But most importantly, you must remain here, and work hard to become a better wizard.

"Only then will you be able to defeat Voldemort. You are your world's only hope."

A sound drew Harry's attention down. His eyes took in the genuine smile on the baby's face. I wont fail this time, he vowed silently. If this child had truly given him a second chance, then he wasn't going to screw up.

"All right, I'm ready," he answered aloud.

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Well, what do you think? I told you there was going to be Character death in this story. Sad I know, but Hotaru will make a later appearance. Time goes much faster in SM world, than in HP.

Reviews:

Pumpunita: aw ty!!! You made my day, thank you for reviewing!

Usagi Asia Maxwell: Well I decided to change the rating until further chapters. This story I hope will be full of action, and hopefully good action. Lots of death, I hate to admit, but this is war. But I wont over do it, I promise!

Fiona X: it will have both. You'll see what I mean in the next chapter.

Snip bit of the next chapter: "Stupify," he shouted, sending out a red spark from the end of his wand. The figure wielded a shield deflecting the spell off easily. Bloody hell, why'd I have to get a smart ass Death Eater to chase me, he grounded out.

Why couldn't it have been someone like Goyle, or Crabbe, he wondered despite the critical situation he was in.

After Harry had died, Hogwarts had been split in half, students joining the Order, and other students joining the Death Eaters. Hard to believe he knew most of the people who hunted Witches and Wizards like himself, down.