Crouching Lion, Hidden Serpent

By: Lutris Argutiae

Chapter Four: Enter the Lion

0o0o0o0o0o0

Albus Dumbledore was happy; happier than he had been a long time, especially considering the mix-up of the Potter scion in his plans. Oh yes, Black had proved resilient and rebellious till the end, the cheeky little bugger. He had almost lost custody of Potter, and in fact he had; but his plans won out in the end, insuring control of the boy in the future, when his destiny really would matter.

After all, Bartemius Crouch Senior was now a disgraced man, and too depressed and agonized to mount a suitable defense against him. His son imprisoned, and in turn dead, his wife dead in conjunction to that fact, and his reputation blasted to itsy-bitsy tiny little pieces. When he came back to his senses, he would no doubt care for Harry as his own son, to prevent the descent into darkness of his firstborn occurring in his adopted son. He would drive the rules, predictably verbatim into little Harry's mind, ingraining them into his train of thought.

Which, Albus noted, would not be bad at all, considering the threat of dark magic over the Potter boy. Indeed, the effects of his survival of the Killing Curse was highly unpredictable, as it had never, ever happened before in the history of wizardkind. It mayhap would work in Harry's favor, maybe not, considering the nature of such things.

Albus gave a shiver.

He was playing with the fates, he was. Bartering and dancing with Fate and Death, he was facing the board with his pawns, and his pawn had just started to move towards becoming the queen. But, as in all chess games, the white pawn had to bypass the dangers and perils of the black pieces, and survive the onslaught of dark forces in order to metamorphose into an all powerful and omnipotent queen. Little Harry was a pawn, and he had just taken the first step into transforming into the ultimate weapon against the Dark Lord, when he eventually returned.

His stay with Bartemius would insure his allegiance to the Light and the Ministry; he would respect his elders dearly, and perform well in classes. Barty's psyche was just too proud and orderly to not have his son excel in classes, while being subservient to the ruling system. Perhaps it was better this way; to have Barty adopt and care for Harry. Indeed, his muggle relatives all but hated Lily and her magic, not to mention any and all things the slightest bit 'unnatural'. Being raised in an environment where he would be hated and despised would not be good for the boy, and certainly not good for the future of the Wizarding World. His life would mirror Tom Marvolo Riddle's, and though that would be interesting in itself, wouldn't be worth taking the risk to do so.

For the Potter boy was powerful, too powerful. He was even more powerful than Albus Dumbledore would dare admit. In the far future, he was sure that the brat would far surpass his own powers, but by then, he would be firmly entrenched in his manipulations and plans, so no threat would be posed towards himself. If the boy took to dark magic like Tom Riddle had… no, the world could not dare to risk another Lord Voldemort; it would be much too dangerous.

Albus did not understand Black's choice of adoptive parent; Crouch hardly ever talked to him, except for briefings in Auror missions, or maybe superior/employee discussions. But of course, that may had lead to the choice in his deluded and confused mind in the presence of dementors; his superior officer, one he could trust with his life if he wanted to. Yes, the question was answered, and Albus was content. For now, he would wish the Potter boy luck in his growth at his new destinations spanning the whole globe. Bartemius was being sent as a diplomat to many countries, ending with the Japanese Ministry of Magic, and by necessity, Harry would have to follow.

Harry would grow even more disciplined in that environment; he had heard that the Japanese people were very strict in their ways. Albus sighed. It would force Harry to revere his elders even more. And with the lack of possible Dark influence that being in Britain could put on him… Oh, Albus was looking forward to the Boy Who Lived's future arrival under his care.

The perfect weapon to face down Voldemort.

But Albus Dumbledore had not taken into account some very important factors in Harry's growth.

One, his adoptive father's awareness concerning the prophecy, and Two, the survival of Bartemius Crouch Junior, convicted Death Eater.

It would be fair to say, that Albus Dumbledore wouldn't get what he had expected.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Thirteen Years Later..

"Harry! You better be ready to depart immediately! Packed! NOW!"

The thunderous voice of Bartemius Crouch Senior bellowed out in throughout the small apartment they had been renting for the hectic past three days. Of course, just having arrived from his diplomatic station in Tokyo, Japan, his father had been a little, all right, maybe a small bit more than a little easily irritated. Not about to risk said man's anger upon his person, fourteen-year-old Harry Crouch-Potter roared out in a voice as filled with volume as his adoptive father.

"Yes Father! Just five more minutes to get the rest of my books packed! You know I need to get all the Ancient Runes texts in place!"

"Fine! FIVE more minutes! Then we are taking the Portkey to the Platform, you hear me!"

Harry called down his affirmation. "Yes, sir."

He looked at the books in question, stacked in a corner of his impromptu desk that they, or rather his father, had constructed with transfigured materials. He strode to the desk, taking only two strides, and stepping over the large trunk lying on the floor, grasped the numerous tomes, and set them down on the floor. He pulled a key out of his enchanted wallet, (good for storing anything small, or so the shop-keeper had said) and stuck it into the lock on the lid, and turned it so that it clicked four times.

The aforementioned trunk swung open, revealing a four by three foot wooden bookshelf on the interior of it, and had someone else been there, they would have noticed that all of the necessary texts to aspire for a Ministry job, a perfect OWL and NEWTS grade, or any other respectable titles would have been found there; at least all the most notable and most revered ones. Harry picked up the Ancient Runes textbook and resources, and moving his arm to a shelf marked Textbooks, cleared a space and placed them in their respective places amongst the other subject/ alphabetical order sorted course books.

He swept his gaze over the entire room, small as it was, and noted that nothing that shouldn't have been left was there, and nothing was out of place. He had packed all of his clothing in the third compartment of the trunk; all of his robes, cloaks, muggle clothing, and spare uniforms were kept in there, and there was nary an article of attire left lying in the room.

Clothing, check.

Course materials were in Compartment Two, including the crystal phials for Potions, the phial rack, cauldrons, basic ingredients all students were required to keep stock of, spare quills, parchment, ink, inkwells… no, nothing was missing. All of his personal affects were either in the first compartment or were on his person somehow, and so merited no concern.

With a resigned sigh, Harry closed the lid of the trunk, turned the key back to the assumed 'locked' position, and picked up the handle, suddenly very grateful for the lightening charms pre-placed on the object. He pulled it out of his room, squeezing through the doorway with some difficulty, but managing to get out without scratching anything across anything else. He made his way towards the small lobby two doors down, and called out to his father, who was standing in front of the closed door, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Father, I've got everything packed now."

"Five minutes and twelve seconds, Harry. You promised just five minutes." His father said harshly, peering into the small brass watch dangling from the chain on his neck.

Harry responded in a formal tone. "I am sorry, Father. It won't happen again."

His father gave a small nod in affirmation. "See to it that it doesn't, son. For now, let us depart."

With an uncharacteristic grin, Bartemius Crouch produced a small glass bottle from its resting spot on the floor near the shoebox, and tapped it with his wand. Motioning for Harry to come to his spot, he shrunk the trunk behind him and pocketed it, holding the bottle out to his son.

"And now, Harry, let me present to you Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters."

0o0o0o0o0o0

For all the talk and rumours of the fabled train station, it wasn't all what it was cut out to be, was Harry's first thought upon arriving into the designated Portkey entry-point of said station. Indeed, it was impressive, with the proud crimson train and bustling families seeing their children off to school.

But, it was exactly what all of the Ministry handbooks and his father's descriptions had told him it would be like, and the fact that it could be described in its fullest sense in words made it all the more dull.

Sensing his father's unusual eagerness to show him to the train, Harry wondered if the… joy, would be the only word, of seeing his son about to depart to Hogwarts might have made him slightly overenthusiastic and forget certain things.

For one, his dislike of Dumbledore, and two, that he was only attending the school because of the new work his father had been assigned, thereby leaving him no time to care for his son. It did not add up, until Harry had considered the possibility that his father actually was proud of his son finally gracing the halls of Hogwarts, just like himself. Of course, Harry thought, after all, honor and tradition came first in the Crouch family's sense of morals, didn't it?

"I shall see you soon, at Hogwarts, my son. Make some worthwhile allies at the institution, Harry. They could prove useful in the future. And although I am sure you will be diligent, do not slip up around the old coot's gaze; practice your meditation nightly. For now, get on that train, and find a compartment to rest in; the ride is long and tiresome. I shall see you soon."

"Yes Father." Harry knew better than to question his father. "I am aware of the situation with Headmaster Dumbledore, and will do my best as to not disturb your work, Father."

"Very well. Now, go on Harry."

With a slight affirmative nod, Harry turned around, receiving his shrunken trunk from his father, and slipping it into the breast-pocket of his uniform shirt. He walked over to the nearest train car, and gave a small wave to his father, who returned it with a barely noticeable smile gracing his lips; obviously, caring for a son had changed him over the years.

Harry prowled down the corridor, and found an empty compartment in the second car he had entered. He opened the door, and stepped inside, taking in the view. He promptly sat down, pulled out a book, and started reading it. Hid (very much secret) elder brother had recommended the spells in it, and he was indulging in the privacy of the Express. He had read for a few minutes, but started to feel drowsy, and before he even noticed it, dozed off.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Misato nudged him from behind. "Hey Harry. How's the day coming for you?"

Harry, with a slightly younger voice, answered her. "Oh, just wonderful. You know that Murakami Sensei just assigned me extra homework for his class? It just got worse. Now Mizushima Sensei is dumping more work on me too. Isn't that just fabulous?"

Misato just ignored his blatant sarcasm. "That doesn't give an excuse for not showing up at the Physicals last night. You missed the first lesson."

"Pish. I'll make it up. I always do."

"I'll hold you to your word Harry. But hey, what's life without a few challenges, right?"

Harry smirked at his first crush, although she was unaware of it. True, he had missed the Physical Education class of the previous evening, but his father had made him attend seminars for those since he was four years old, and he doubted that they would learn anything he already didn't know about.

He put his arm around her, and feeling no apprehension, nuzzled in her shoulder. "You better get to class Misato. You have Advanced Sealing Techniques next right? Kanzaki's going to throw a tantrum if you're late to his class again."

She gave a small laugh, and shrugged herself free from his hold. She paused, as if remembering something, and said, "Before I forget, the others and I are meeting up in muggle Shibuya after school. Show up, would you? See you later Harry!". Amazingly, she did so in one breath, then shot off towards the east wing of the training compound, where her next class was taking place.

Harry watched her form dash towards her classroom, a warm fuzz in his heart. He shook his head forcibly, making the feelings retreat to the back of his mind. For now, he had Highly Advanced Magical Combat to attend.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Daphne stood in the hallways of the Hogwarts Express, panting heavily. It wasn't enough that she had woken up late and had forgotten to pack. No, she had taken the wrong exit in the Floo, and had landed in Madam Malkin's, of all places. Then she had to be taken by an Auror to the Platform, by way of Apparation, before she could miss the train.

If the kind law enforcer hadn't shrunken her trunk for her, she would have missed it. Ergo, resulting in her being late for term.

Of course, she had made it in time, but only just before the whistle had sounded. So now she needed a seat for the long and arduous ride to Hogwarts. Sighing, she straightened her back, and flipped her blond hair over her shoulder. She would have to search out an empty compartment, or at least as empty a compartment could get after the departure of the Express.

She made her way down the corridor, and eventually came to a compartment which seemed to be devoid of any chattering students' voices. She came to a halt in front of the door, and after knocking (it never hurt to be courteous), she slid it open.

There was a boy sitting by the window, apparently fast asleep, with a smile gracing his lips. Not recognizing him, she took in his features. He looked about her age, maybe a fourth year or fifth year. She shifted her gaze to his head, where a black mess of hair could be seen, looking more like a crow's nest than anything.

Here, the boy's eyes suddenly fluttered open, as if sensing her presence, and his sleepy gaze moved itself to meet her own.

"Who're you?" Considering his slurred speech, he did not seem to be fully awake.

"Er…, I'm Daphne Greengrass… Slytherin fourth year. And you?"

The boy shook his head with a small amount of force, presumably to wake himself up. "Right. The name's Harry. Harry Crouch. Pleasure."

Daphne nodded, and went to sit down on the seat opposite him. "You don't mind me sitting here, do you?"

"No, it's bound to be a long ride anyway. Any company is good company, I say. Besides, I need to start making friends sometime right?" Harry responded, albeit with a formal expression. Daphne didn't notice him shoving a small book in his back pocket, and asked the question that had bugged her

"So, said your name was Crouch. Any relation to Bartemius Crouch?"

"I'm his son. Adopted."

"Alright then. Just wondering, is all. Thought I'd ask." Daphne said.

"And so I figure you're the Greengrass heiress?" Harry queried.

"I am she. And proud to be it."

"I see."

After that, the topics in conversation shifted from various topics, including various heated arguments about international Quidditch teams, about the Sorting Ceremony at Hogwarts, life, death, and the usual teenage perspectives on various things. Before they had hardly noticed, day had turned into night, the trolley-lady had gone by for the umpteenth time, and they were fast approaching arrival at Hogsmeade Station.

Daphne looked at the youth before her once more; he truly was an enjoyable character. But a little uptight in some aspects too… But that was expectable, seeing that he was Bartemius Crouch's son. The strict rules that must have been enforced in that household, she could not imagine. But then she remembered something from his mumblings before he first woke up. Something about Misato.

"Harry," She started. "Who's Misato?"

The raven-haired boy jumped. "Who told you about her!" He snapped vehemently.

"Whoa, easy there hotshot. Just wanted to know. You were mumbling something about ceilings and Misato or something or other. You know. Me and my curiosity." Daphne mumbled back.

"Just a friend. When I was living in Japan with my father. Us two and some others would generally hang out at places like Harajuku and Shibuya in central Tokyo."

"Oh, I see. Dare I venture a guess? Big crush? Girlfriend?" Daphne persistently teased.

"No, nothing like that! Just friends. Just friends." Harry responded, a little too hurriedly. Daphne did not notice the pained expression crossing his face.

"If you say so then, Harry."

After that, the two adolescents' moods were considerably dampened, and conversion declined. A mere five gloomy minutes later, the conductor announced that their arrival at Hogsmeade would be in ten minutes, and Harry let Daphne change first, courtesy of etiquette lessons from his father.

So, after the two were dressed in their robes (Harry's were unmarked with a House crest), and the Hogwarts Express ground to a halt at the station, they departed their compartment, and went their separate ways; Harry for the boats crossing the lake, and Daphne to the horse-less carriages leading up to the castle.

0o0o0o0o0o0

The Welcoming Feast was about to start, and Albus Dumbledore could barely contain his excitement at having to finally meet the Potter boy. His expectations for him were very high, and he was sure that he would not be disappointed by the boy's performance.

He had heard from his contacts in the Japanese Ministry, and so far had only received positive news in regards to Harry Potter. Very disciplined, obedient, with a strict sense of morals… in short, the perfect pawn. If he was at all anything of the likes of what he had imagined him to be, then he would be by far the most valuable piece in the game, and set to becoming his proverbial queen on the chessboard against the Dark.

Oh yes, did he have plans for the prophecy bound champion and bastion of the Light, oh yes indeed.

But, he would have to take it one step at a time, and the Sorting Ceremony was but the first of the many milestones set in the road to victory. Naturally, he had instructed the Hat to place him in Gryffindor, where he would grow in the presence of the Weasleys, one of the more prominent pureblood families who were completely sworn to the Light. From there, Harry's development into the perfect warrior would blossom, and Voldemort's second defeat would come swiftly. The use of Harry as a political figurehead and puppet within the Ministry would be utterly final and set in stone, placing him, Albus Dumbledore, at the prime seat of power in the shadows.

Albus put on a slightly barmy smile on his face as to conceal his dark grin, and plucked a lemon-drop from the satchel that was hooked on his waist. He popped it into his mouth, and sucked on it for a while, relishing its taste. Minerva had just gone to retrieve the First Years, and it was only a few more moments until their Sortings were to take place.

Indeed, a mere half a minute later, dozens of little boys and girls came bustling up the main aisle between the House tables, led by the Transfigurations Professor, Minerva McGonnagle. She announced their task, and he absentmindedly nodded each of their ways when the Hat announced its decision. He was too anxious to meet Potter to take care of any other matters.

Finally, it appeared all of the aspiring students were all Sorted, and it came to be the time for announcements. Albus stood, and casting a minute and wandless sonorous charm upon his voice, he spoke.

"I would like to announce a few things before the Feast is commenced." He started.

"Now, as I am sure all returning students are well aware of the fact that the Forbidden Forest is just that; forbidden, and that you First Years will keep that in mind. Curfews are the same as last year, at seven thirty. And, I was asked by our Caretaker, Mr.Filch, to remind you that the forbidden items list has been extended to include disastrous discus's, Instant icecubes, biting books, and ever-lasting dungbombs. The complete list may be seen outside his office, to be perused at will. And, now to the good news. First, all Quidditch matches this year have been canceled."

As expected, this drew out an uproar from the vast majority of the students in the Hall, and Albus had to wait several moments for the noise to clear.

"Yes, yes, you heard me right. And no, I am not going barmy, as you put it, Mr.Weasley."

The redhead boy seated at the Gryffindor Table muttered inaudibly.

"But there is a perfectly good reason for that! So do not fret, do not fret, another event is occurring this year, which is an apt replacement enough for Quidditch!"

He paused for a moment, for dramatic impact (and to further awe the students. Oh how he loved his job) "For the Triwizard Tournament is being held at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the first time in over a century! Delegations from the French school of Beauxbatons and the German school of Durmstrang shall arrive later in the year, and I would like for you to extend a warm welcome to them all. But! More of that when the time comes. For now, I would like to introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor: Professor Alastor Moody!"

A person could have heard a pin drop, considering the silence in the room. The students were shocked into silence, and in the lack of sound, a small clunk, clunk could be heard. After a few long seconds, the battle-worn and scarred form of 'Mad-Eye' Moody made itself seen at the staff table, and he bowed to the stunned hall, his electric blue eyeball whizzing around wildly. Finally, he sat down, and a collective breath was exhaled from the students. After all, it wasn't everyday a young wizard could lay his eyes on one of the most famous Aurors in recent history.

"Yes, yes, but Professor Moody is not the only addition Hogwarts shall see tonight. I would like to welcome Mr. Harry Crouch-Potter to the Fourth Year curriculum! Mr. Potter, if you would?"

The doors to the Great Hall groaned open, and the giant form of Rubeus Hagrid could be seen leading a smaller figure up to the staff table, to where the Sorting Hat lay on its stool. The students were raptly staring at this boy, the boy they all took for their savior and grew up hearing stories about.

The Boy Who Lived.

Harry reached the stool, and promptly bowed to him, the Headmaster. He began in a polite tone, "Good evening, Headmaster Dumbledore."

"Now now, my boy, no need to be so formal. How was the Express, Mr. Potter?"

Albus replied.

"As well as could be possibly expected sir. I encountered a few interesting characters."

"Ah, that is good to hear, my dear boy. Now, put on the Sorting Hat, and be welcomed to Hogwarts!" Albus enthusiastically cheered him on.

Harry bowed again, turned around, then walked back to the stool. He picked the Sorting Hat off the seat, plopped himself down on it, and pulled the Hat on.

The whole Hall broke out in whispers, speculating which house the celebrity would get in to. Most guessed Gryffindor, indeed all did, and no one could conceal their surprise, although slight in most of them, when the Hat opened its brim after about a minute of silence.

"RAVENCLAW!"

0o0o0o0o0o0

Thirty minutes ago…

Harry thought that the lake really was rather fascinating, as he had been made to study the history of Hogwarts rather thoroughly. Preparing for his destiny, according to his father, had included learning pointless facts in history.

Although, he couldn't doubt his father about the beauty of the school anymore. Indeed, the night-time view of the castle from the lake was rather breathtaking, and the flickering candle-lit lanterns on the boats only added to the atmosphere. Sighing, he thought about what was to come. He and his father had agreed that Dumbledore would probably try to force him into Gryffindor House, where he would most likely be approached by the numerous 'Light' believers entrenched in Dumbledore's service. He would probably be able to survive that, but, as his father had said, it would be considerably easier to just avoid all of the hassle created by that, and just enter another House.

His father had recommended Ravenclaw House, his own house, as a good place to be Sorted into. So, Ravenclaw it was, as his father's word was final, and he could tell a dismissal when he heard one.

Hagrid had announced the arrival of the boats to the shore, and had instructed all of the students to disembark towards the Great Hall, which could be seen in the distance. Harry was pulled aside by the large man before he could start to walk down, and the groundskeeper looked into his eyes.

"Dumbledore told me you'd be comin' this year, 'Arry. The name's ''Agrid, Rubeus Hagrid. I'm supposed to be guidin' ya down to the Hall fer yer Sortin', so I'm takin' ya there now."

Harry nodded politely, and still silent, had followed the half-giant to the doors. They arrived when the First Year students were called in to be Sorted, and Harry went over his mental list of caution. His robes were straightened out, tie pulled on perpendicular to his waist, hair as neat as he could get it, glasses not crooked, and his shoelaces were expertly tied. Dumbledore would be looking for a prim and proper student; the model of a perfect and orderly pawn. So, appearance came first, as that determined the first impression. His speech came next, and that would be nice and polite; greeting, light banter, and after dismissal, do the requested task.

He had barely finished going over the list when Hagrid motioned to Harry, and pushed the great doors open to reveal the Hall to him. He could hear Dumbledore giving his final words of his welcoming speech, and, walked through the expected silence in a dignified manner befitting his celebrity status.

He reached the Headmaster, and greeted him cordially, opening with a bow.

"Good evening, Headmaster Dumbledore."

"Now now, my boy, no need to be so formal. How was the Express, Mr. Potter?"

The Professor replied.

"As well as could be possibly expected sir. I encountered a few interesting characters." Harry gave a polite anwer.

"Ah, that is good to hear, my dear boy. Now, put on the Sorting Hat, and be welcomed to Hogwarts!" Though Harry could see it as an act, the Headmaster enthusiastically cheered him on.

Harry bowed again, turned around, then walked back to the stool. He picked the Sorting Hat off the seat, plopped himself down on it, and pulled the Hat on.

-Ahh, so Mr. Potter has finally come to Hogwarts eh?-The croaking voice that was the Hat's spoke.

-Yes, Hat. May I humbly ask for council as to my Sorting?-

-Hmm? Speak up, I haven't got all night you know.- The Hat said.

-Where has the Headmaster asked you to place me? Gryffindor, I presume?-

-Ahh. An intelligent one we have here… yes, he has asked me to place you in Godric's House, as to link you with your birth-parents… but you wish to be sorted where your surrogate father went, do you not?-

-Yes, sir. I may need to avoid Headmaster Dumbledore's manipulations as well. I am vital to his plans, and I wish to escape detection as much as can be possible- Harry explained.

-A sly one, aren't you? But no matter; you do not have the ambition as much as would befit a Slytherin,though you have it in vast quantities. You are hard working, but only to the extent of studies and preparing for your… destiny? Ahh, then the House of the brave is not for you. It shall be RAVENCLAW for you, young Potter. Off you go. Good luck in your quest for knowledge..-

Harry needed no prompting, and he pulled the Hat off of his head, stood up, and set the aged garment back down on the stool. Amidst the avid cheering erupting from the Ravenclaws, he could see that the Ravenclaw table was situated next to the Slytherin table, and saw Daphne sitting there, with her jaw hanging slightly open. He made his way over to the table, and sat in a seat closest as he could manage to Daphne.

"Good evening, Daphne. Surprise, surprise eh?"

The blond just closed her mouth, turned back to her housemates, and started chatting to a girl with black hair and icy blue eyes.

Harry blinked at the sudden rebuttal, and shrugged, facing his new friends-to-be in Hogwarts.

A boy with light brown hair and pale complexion was sitting to his left, and shook his hand with gusto.

"Hello, the name's Kevin Entwhistle. I guess I'll be one of your dorm-mates from now on. That guy over there who's just fidgeting to start eating, that's Terry Boot. Another one who's in our dorm."

Harry gave yet another formal nod, and thanked him. He scanned the whole length of the table. The whole experience seemed oddly different from what he was used to, but it would have to do. He would miss his friends from the Academy at Tokyo, and Daphne was no Misato, but friends were friends, and he would enjoy these new friendships for the night. For once, he indulged in the feeling of relaxation, and laughed amongst his fellow students, pulling down his public mask

0o0o0o0o0o0

Author's Notes:

I thought writing his whole childhood would take a bit too long and probably annoy some of the readers here at It was also eerily reminiscent of some stories already posted at various fanfiction sites. And I really don't like the 'shopping-list' notation some people seem to enjoy using, so I decided to jump right on in to the school year, and have Harry have flashbacks of his time in Japan, amongst other places. Well, I think it worked rather well, considering the fact that this was a rather hastily pasted together idea. You'll see more of Misato in the future, and some of his friends from Tokyo. And yes, before all of you swamp me in reviews, (you guys know you want to) this is going to be a Harry/Daphne, although very lightly. Don't ask an inexperienced 14-year old to try to write fluffy stuff that he has absolutely close to zero knowledge about. So pish-posh to all of you fluff fans. You'll see some of his (Harry's) abilities revealed in the next chapters, and some character development is in order. Also, we'll see some more stuff in Daddy Crouch's point of view, and a look into Harry's life before, during, and after Academy life at Tokyo. Harry won't remember much outside of Japan anyway, so any flashbacks you're gonna get from him aren't going to explain much, at least relevant to the other locations he has lived in.

So, to get you stagnant readers who probably won't drop a message by, (no offense to anybody), feel free to flame me. That's right. First flame I get gets printed on high-quality paper and a frame hanging on the wall of my room. Preferably signed. Make that the first non-anonymous flame.

I might have neglected to mention this last chapter, but the original concept sprung out of a thread at Darklordpotter .net, suggested by ip82, who goes by IP82 on this site.

Drop a message, and hope to see you again next chapter.

Regards,

Lutris