It wasn't supposed to be like this. He had just finished his fourth year at Hogwarts (seen a classmate die as well) and his family had forced him to go with them on a business trip. For some reason this...Clock Tower...wanted to meet Vernon in a random city in Japan, even though from what Harry understood they were based in England.

Normally this wouldn't be a problem (a quick letter with his magical signature to the goblins solved the few problems he might encounter...like lack of passport or vaccinations...he still hated port keys with a passion though) but as soon as he stepped foot in Fuyuki city he knew there would be trouble.

It wasn't until the middle of the night when he was tired of being kicked by his fat cousin over the double beds that should have easily fit two people (Dudley had immediately claimed both and pushed them together without even thinking twice about his cousin) Harry went out to get some fresh air.

Because of how magically charged the city was, he doubted that any magic would get picked up by the Japanese Ministry if he cast even a lumos. And since he was so far out, it was highly unlikely Dumbledore even had any spies to watch over him like a hawk. The only companion he had was Hedwig, who had barely managed to find him.

He left the hotel room, left a note pinned firmly on the door for his stupid cousin and went out to explore the city.

There wasn't a chance he was going to pass up exploring a new city without having to worry about being the boy-who-lived for a couple of hours.

In hindsight, he really should have known better. His luck absolutely hated him with a passion.

Never before had Harry ever relied on his years of running from Dudley or his Seeker skills to avoid attack. At least, not in this fashion anyway.

The man in blue armor with the lance apparently wasn't supposed to let anyone see him, so he was pursuing Harry with a vengeance. Fortunately, he didn't seem to like the idea of killing Hedwig, who kept attacking him to protect Harry.

When he heard the man's accent, he couldn't help but ask if he was Irish. The guy had laughed, saying he was. Apparently he didn't want to do this, but had to on his Master's orders.

The fact he had picked Harry of all people was just his luck.

Fortunately, it seemed that since he was in a situation where magic was almost expected, he was able to cast shield charms left and right. While he knew the Unforgiveables he just didn't want to kill or otherwise take out the man before him in such a fashion. Something told him if they had met under different circumstances they could have gotten along famously.

Suddenly he crashed into a shed. He hadn't even noticed they had left the edges of the city!

The door fell in...and both fighters paused when they realized what was in there. A woman with bright red hair and earrings almost identical to the man before him was lying in a pool of blood, her left arm severed almost completely.

Harry didn't think twice. Instead of focusing on the man with the lance, he immediately went to her side and started casting serious healing spells. The arm was almost a lost cause...had the spear-man not come to help.

From what Harry could tell he knew the woman and was beyond pissed off at her condition. Between the two of them, the woman would be weak for a while, but she would live.

Hedwig let off a rather strange cry and struck behind the spear-man. A bizarre chain broke off...and a smaller thread became known.

"I don't believe it...that crazy bird of yours severed the connection to that creep!" he said in shock.

"Hedwig, you aren't going to suddenly become a phoenix or anything are you?" asked Harry suspiciously.

Hedwig hooted imperiously from her current perch on a chair that was falling apart.

Harry turned to the spear-man.

"You still going to kill me?"

"Hell no! You're the only thing keeping Bazett alive!"

"Is that her name?"

"She was supposed to be my Master, but someone betrayed her from behind and took control of me before she could stop him. You see the result before you."

Harry blinked.

"Finally, someone with luck as crappy as my own!"

Bazett was very shocked to find herself alive...and that Lancer was right next to her. Even more so when her arm almost felt healed. The boy before her with an owl familiar looked relieved.

"Oh good... I must admit I'm glad those spells stuck. I'm more used to being on the receiving end of them."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Harry. Harry Potter, and this is my owl Hedwig."

"What sort of magus are you?"

"Magus?"

"I don't think he's a Magus. Normal Magi don't bother with sticks anymore," said Lancer.

"I'm a wizard, if that's what your asking," he said dryly.

Bazett normally would grimace at the word wizard...but considering one just saved her life and possibly freed Lancer, she wasn't about to complain.

"Can you move?" he asked.

"A little. Aren't you a little young to be traveling on your own?"

"I would rather be here with a guy who just tried to kill me in cold blood than back in that damn hotel," said Harry flatly, with absolute certainty.

She gave Lancer a look, but he wasn't about to explain.

"If you can move, we should really get you to a hospital."

"I don't think..."

"Those spells that keep your shoulder together won't last forever. At the very least you'll need surgery to reattach the arm properly."

She grimaced.

"I can't exactly afford something that expensive. I had to pay my way just to get here..."

"If it's the expense that's the problem, then you are going. I can pay if you can't afford it. Not like I have anything better to do with the cash my father left me. Besides, escorting you to a hospital sounds a damn sight better than going back to the hotel."

"And how are you planning to get her there? The nearest hospital is five miles away, and no offense but I doubt you could carry her there."

"Who said I was going to carry her? If she can hold on long enough, I can fly her there on my broom and make it look like I carried her. Not like the ER doctors are going to look too closely at the fact I could when she's near death door," said Harry sensibly.

"And what about me? I don't exactly fit in, in case you haven't noticed. And I am not leaving her behind again!"

Harry rolled his eyes, and brought out a silvery cloak. He put it around his neck and once he placed the hood on his head he vanished.

"Any other stupid questions?"

Bazett was flown straight to the hospital, where Harry claimed her as an older sister. Fortunately the doctors didn't question it, preferring to use their time constructively. Seven hours later, she was awake again and feeling a damn sight better than before.

Her arm felt like it normally did...though she had been banned from any heavy lifting for the next three months. They didn't want to strain the muscles, which they had barely salvaged. To her relief, the magic circuits were active again...as was the connection to Lancer.

Said Servant was in the room, under the cloak. Harry was on the chair by the window, with his owl flying out to hunt.

"I have to ask...why did you save me? Most people would run away from the sight of so much blood."

Harry laughed tiredly.

"Tell that to someone who has seen far too much of their own...all because their family hates magic. Anyway I would much rather be here than back there...and it was the right thing to do."

Bazett stared. It was the first time in a long time she had seen such a selfless act of kindness, all because 'it was the right thing to do'. She lay back in the bed and decided that perhaps she could trust this Harry.

At least he wouldn't have his memories wiped. Magi were exempt from the memory wipes of seeing actual magic.

Vernon was not happy. His morning had started out rather well, with the fact that his 'nephew' had opted to leave the hotel and had yet to return. As far as he was concerned, the brat could buy his own way back to England!

Then he found out the real reason Clock Tower had given them an all expenses paid trip to Japan.

They wanted the very brat who had left the hotel while decent folks were asleep! Without Harry, the man from the prestigious organization wanted nothing to do with his family.

As a result, they were forced to pack their bags and leave. The hotel concierge had been rather chipper to inform the family that the room was no longer paid for, and if they wanted to stay they would have to pay for it themselves.

Vernon and his family packed their bags and left Japan, not caring if Harry made it back on his own or not.

Harry woke up to Lancer shaking him.

"What time is it?" he yawned.

"A little after six. We need to leave. I can sense someone with a Servant closing in, and Bazett still needs to rest."

"And you need someone to play the role of your master."

Lancer grimaced, but didn't deny it. What he didn't count on was Bazett being awake.

"I can transfer my commands to you for a while. Since I can't keep Lancer stabilized like I am now, I can share the responsibility with you," she said.

"How does that work?"

"Essentially you'll be supporting him like I do, kinda like a magical battery."

"Huh. Why not?" said Harry.

Lancer keep close eye on the Servant. They were close, but not close enough to tell why he was there. Once the command mantra was given to Harry, he could feel the change. The kid only had one command on him, but the sheer amount of power in his magic circuits made up for it. Bazett kept the other two just in case. Luckily they were covered by the bandages.

Harry left the window open so Hedwig could cover for them. She was as good as a guard dog that way.

Lancer and Harry left the hospital room before the Servant could find Bazett.

With the potions he left her, it would take at least a week for her to heal properly. Her arm would still be in a cast though.

Harry and Lancer seemed to match strides rather well. Harry had the most endurance of his entire team, despite being the youngest member. It was rather simple really.

He enjoyed exploring the castle whenever he could, and he liked to run for the simple pleasure of running. All the others relied on their skills on a broom instead of their actual muscles. He had always been the fastest on a broom, and with his Seeker skills he was the most agile on the ground.

It was simply a logical step for him to take up free running and parkour in his spare time.

"You're not bad, for a runt. I noticed it the first time, but you're a natural sprinter aren't you?" asked Lancer.

"Spent most of my childhood running from my cousin. His favorite game was Harry Hunting, and running was my only option to avoid getting my ass kicked like a cheap drum."

"Hold up, why would you cousin beat you up? Don't parents normally try to avoid behavior like that?"

Harry snorted, holding his Firebolt for balance as they cleared another building. It was an interesting use for his broom's magic, one he learned quite by accident when he tried to clear the staircase while it moved with it in hand. Simply putting his foot on the wood allowed him to clear it with only one hand on the railing.

Needless to say he practiced that whenever he had the chance.

"You're talking to someone who never got the 'all human life is precious' speech. If we come up against the bastard who tried to screw you and Bazett over, don't expect me to hold you back from killing him painfully."

Lancer's grin spoke volumes. It was positively predatory...and frankly it reminded him far too much of the twins when they were planning a revenge prank for his taste.

It turned out the Servant that Lancer had sensed was the one that belonged to the man who had betrayed his true master.

"YOU!" growled Lancer.

"Hoho! This explains a few things. Though how you got a new master and broke the command spell he had I have no idea. We'll just have to drag it out of ya, won't we?" said the blond.

"Who the hell is this?"

"This is the Servant to the bastard who controlled me until that owl of yours broke it!"

"Well, you know what that means don't you? I see no reason for you to hold back."

Lancer grinned fiercely. He held his lance in his hand, eager to kill the blond bastard.

The blond Servant smirked, and summoned his weapons. Harry blinked, but otherwise didn't react. His right hand itched, not from the command spells, but from the sensation that he lacked a sword.

One he had only used once in his life...the Sword of Gryffindor.

The clash of Gae Bolg and the blond Servant's innumerable swords was heard in the silent night. Lancer was surprised at how much magic Harry had in him, because he kept getting some really nasty blows that healed in an instant.

Suddenly the blond dealt a particularly nasty blow to Lancer, and Harry could feel the drain trying to heal it. He had enough of standing on the side lines.

While he observed the blond, he noted that the man attacked with his left hand and blocked with his right. Too bad he didn't have a sword...or did he?

That itch had only grown stronger the longer he watched the blond fight. In fact it was less of an itch and more of a tug. On a whim, Harry tugged back with his magic.

The result was instant. Where his hands had been empty there was now a familiar gaudy looking sword, strengthened by the venom of the basilisk he had slain. He looked at the sword in his hands. While it was a familiar feel in his hand, the thing was too unwieldy to be of any real use. Out of boredom and curiosity he had practiced with some swords in a room that was full of the things.

The only one that suited his lithe frame was a Japanese sword, which upon further research he learned was called a uchigatana. It was longer than the tachi, and quite a bit longer than the standard katana.

Suddenly the weight shifted in his hands. The sword, which had been beyond tacky for his tastes, had molded itself to his hands into the more familiar shape of his preferred sword.

He gripped his hands experimentally. The sword fit neatly in his hands. Neither Servant paid him any mind...until he nearly cut the blond's head off with the sword. Lancer blinked, but then fell in step with Harry's attacks. Suddenly the mystery Servant was put on the defensive.

"Che. You win this round brat. But when I find that woman, she is dead," said the servant coldly.

"Only if you can handle basilisk venom being shot into your eye," Harry said back.

Lancer gave him an odd look, but said nothing.

Lancer gave his pseudo master a look (Harry was infinitely better than that fake priest!) as he asked what Harry meant by basilisk venom.

"I was bit by a basilisk, a full grown one at that, when I was twelve. A phoenix healed me, but according to the goblins my blood will forever have basilisk venom in it. The phoenix tears in my blood are the only reason my body adapted to the venom."

"Damn...a full grown basilisk at twelve? What the hell made you go up against one of those?" asked Lancer impressed.

"Damsel in Distress, and her brothers would never let me hear the end of it since I knew where the thing was."

"Ah. Say no more."