Well, my prior attempt at a Harry/Futaba fic cacked out for various reasons. However, after finally finishing her Palace and watching her recovery during my playthrough of the game, I decided to try another tack.
Now, as longtime followers of my stories will know, I sometimes bump the events of the Harry Potter books up a decade, to try and suit being meshed with another franchise. However, for a change, I decided to bump it up two decades. So, instead of Voldemort's resurrection taking place in June 1995, it takes place in June 2015, and this chapter takes place about six months later, in December, with the beginning of the game taking place a little under four months afterwards.
Also, I decided to go with a WBWL fic, but with a twist. Most of my WBWL fics go with the tried-and-true OC sibling of Harry, but for my Tokyo Ghoul crossover Janus, I had Neville Longbottom be the WBWL. I decided to go for a darker variant of the same trope here. Harry has been through a lot, and it shows in the Persona I have chosen for him in this story. For those who want a hint for what that Persona is, it's not only the name of a famous literary character, but has been the Persona of a crossover character in a fic where Persona 5 was crossed over with one of the best anime thriller series of all time.
Futaba will be a little OOC here, but that's because she's been penpals with Harry for at least five years prior to this fic beginning, so while she's still a shut-in with a metric fuckton of issues, she's willing to speak more directly with Harry...albeit via smartphone. She still has a nascent Palace, and stopping it will still be a key part of any story that eventuates from this, but she's also better adjusted. Still needs so many hugs, though...
Anyway, I hope you enjoy...
EDIT: Unfortunately, this take on my fic cacked out. But don't worry, I'm still giving it another shot...
40 THIEVES? I JUST NEED ONE WIZARD (ORIGINAL)
CHAPTER 1:
SCARS
The Daily Prophet, December 18th, 2015
HARRY POTTER ABANDONS BRITAIN!
Pardoned teenager lets loose parting shot as he cowardly leaves the country!
Loyal readers of the Prophet will remember the events which transpired during the past year when the Boy Who Lived, Neville Longbottom, was entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament against his will, and despite every precaution supposedly undertaken by officials. One of those under suspicion was Harry Potter, Longbottom's notorious rival at Hogwarts and godson of fugitive mass-murderer Sirius Black. These suspicions seemed to be borne out when Longbottom and Cedric Diggory vanished at the end of the Third Task, their Portkey sabotaged. Retired Auror Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, then acting as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, revealed Potter to be the saboteur, acting under a dark influence from You Know Who as part of a conspiracy to kill the Boy Who Lived. Said dark influence came from a fragment of You Know Who's soul in his scar.
Potter was promptly incarcerated at Azkaban, where his godfather escaped rightful incarceration two years previously. However, Moody was soon revealed to be none other than Barty Crouch Junior, alive and somewhat well, having been smuggled out of Azkaban by his father some years previously. He revealed, under questioning, that he had fabricated the story, or at least had used Potter as a diversion.
The pardoning of Potter took, as readers know, a considerable length of time, due in no small part to reasonable fear of the soul fragment in Potter's scar. However, Gringotts' cursebreakers claimed to have a special ritual to remove it, and promptly did so. The ritual was highly dangerous, and had not been used on living things before, and yet, the fate of Potter was entrusted to the Goblins, and whatever agenda they had in collaborating with Headmaster Dumbledore.
After removal was allegedly completed, Potter was released, and refused any of our reasonable requests for an interview. However, yesterday, he released a statement, announcing his abandonment of Britain. We dare not repeat the vitriolic expletives he used for outgoing Minister Fudge, Neville Longbottom, his friend Ronald Weasley, and Longbottom's guardian Lady Augusta Longbottom. He also had the gall to denounce we at the Prophet as being libellous liars who delighted in destroying a reputation that we can confidently say he never had, and would never deserve if he did. However, we can provide an extract of his intentions:
"I have had enough of this country. Any good memories I have had have been soured by the *expletive removed* who threw me into Azkaban and threw away the key, just as they did to Sirius, and the number of people I am on good terms with, I can count on my fingers and toes, and have enough to flip the rest of you off. Magical Japan has offered asylum for Sirius Black until the ICW reviews his case. As far as I am concerned, the so-called Boy Who Lived is the hero most of you deserve. God help you all, because nobody else will. To quote a certain song, 'Merry Christmas, you suckers, it might be your last(1)'."
The backstreets of Yongen-Jaya were claustrophobic, pressing down on him as he wandered them, trying to find his destination. The teenager was new to Japan, never mind Tokyo. The passers-by who saw him wondered if he was a tourist who had gotten lost somehow. Yongen-Jaya, after all, was no tourist attraction, not like other parts of Tokyo.
But the teenager had a purpose in coming here. He was hoping to see if he could meet someone he had known for a long time, and yet had never met in person. And maybe he could begin to rebuild his life a little.
Still, he had to admit to being more than a little anxious. What happened to him back home (not that he considered that country home anymore: there was little left for him there now) had left deep scars. Then again, he wasn't alone in that regard. The one he was hoping to see was like that...
Sojiro Sakura saw all types of people walking into Leblanc. True, it wasn't the busiest of cafés, and he did prefer it to be quiet, or at least quiet enough without having any business. Still, when teenagers who clearly weren't school students came in in the middle of the day, he had a right to be worried. Okay, so Christmas was almost upon them, and the teenager who just entered was clearly Caucasian, so the likelihood of this guy causing trouble was low.
He had a bag in his hand. Christmas shopping? It wasn't usual for tourists to come here, though. But the café was otherwise empty, for now, so he gave a welcoming smile for now, and said, in English, "Welcome to Leblanc. Can I take your order?"
"Do you sell tea here?"
"Sure. Our specialty is coffee and curry, but I can serve you a cup of tea. You're English, aren't you?" Sojiro asked, having noted the accent with approval. He preferred dealing with British customers to Americans on the whole.
He noted the boy's appearance. Thin, lanky. His hair was a messy thatch of black. His face was handsome, but haggard, with dark circles under the eyes. And those eyes…emerald in colour, behind thick glasses, but you could tell he had gone through some serious shit. Those eyes reminded him of his daughter. Interestingly, there was what looked like a healing surgical scar on his forehead.
"Yeah. I only just came here to Japan. I'll be staying here for a while," the boy said. "Anyway, can I have the tea with milk and some sugar?"
"I'll leave the packets for you to add the sugar," Sojiro said as he began brewing the tea.
"Thanks. And your English is good. My Japanese is pretty bad at the moment. I have to rely on a…phrasebook."
Sojiro nodded. He'd learned English as part of his previous work for the government, to say nothing of his original education. "And yet, you ended up here, at Leblanc. Why?"
"…I got this place recommended by a friend," the boy said. "She said your coffee and curry were the best. I'm not a coffee fan, but I'd love to try your curry."
"She? Do you have a friend from Japan?"
The boy nodded. Sojiro had to admit to being intrigued, though a little suspicious. There was his daughter to consider. Though something about this English boy nagged at him, and he wasn't sure he knew why.
Sojiro finished getting the tea ready, pouring the teenager a cup. "By the way, I didn't catch your name," Sojiro said. "I'm Sojiro Sakura, the proprietor of this place. A lot of people just call me 'Boss'."
The teenager snorted. "The name's Harry."
Harry…Harry…now, why did that seem familiar? Sojiro knew that the name was a popular one in English-speaking countries, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "Nice to meet you, Harry. Though it's a bit odd that you're here on your own. Are your parents around?"
"…They're dead. They were murdered by a terrorist when I was only a year old," Harry said.
"…Sorry. Relatives, then?"
"My former guardians, I want nothing to do with. I've come to live in Japan with my godfather, who's a distant relative, amongst others. We've both been royally screwed over back home."
Sojiro frowned. While this wasn't exactly a bar, sometimes, a café owner was expected to do something similar to a bartender, and listen to the laments and woes of their customers. "…What do you mean by that?"
"I doubt you'd have heard of it here in Japan, but my godfather was falsely accused of mass murder, as well as betraying the whereabouts of my parents to that terrorist. And I was only recently pardoned, not exonerated, of being falsely accused of being an accessory to kidnap and murder. I had few friends left in Britain, and nothing else. The Japanese authorities offered my godfather asylum while his own charges were being reviewed, and I decided to follow."
Sojiro was wary upon hearing that. Even if the teenager was telling the truth, it still seemed like a mess he didn't want to get into. Deciding to change the subject, he said, "And this friend of yours? The one you wanted to see?"
"Well…it's a long story," Harry said. "I was living with my aunt and uncle, and my cousin. They…weren't good people."
Sojiro winced, remembering how his daughter fared with her actual blood relatives when her mother died. Especially that fat bastard Youji. Sojiro hoped he'd never see that monster ever again.
"Anyway, we were in separate classes, but my cousin's class got roped into doing some sort of penpal thing with the school we were twinned with in Japan," Harry said. "That lazy pig I call a cousin made me do it instead…and I got to exchange letters with a Japanese student. She's a little younger than me, but she's devastatingly intelligent. It got to the point where we began exchanging emails. When I realised I had quite a bit of money, despite what my relatives claimed, I actually went and got an iPhone to stay in touch with her. I started going to a rather exclusive school about four years ago in Scotland, and it was harder to stay in touch with her. And then, when I was falsely accused of those crimes I mentioned, they took my phone off me."
"As evidence?" Sojiro asked. There was something about this that seemed awfully familiar, but he wasn't sure why that was.
Harry scoffed. "They destroyed it right in front of me, just to spite me. And, well, due to what happened, I couldn't remember the password to my email. So…I wanted to come and talk to her about it in person, if I could, and apologise for keeping her in the dark. I didn't mean to do that."
"…Why are you telling me this?" Sojiro asked, dreading the answer.
It was then that Harry looked up, and met his gaze. He opened his mouth to say something, only for Sojiro's phone to trill. Sojiro winced. There was one person this was likely to be. "Sorry, I'll have to take this," he said apologetically, before answering. "Moshi moshi?"
"Sojiro, put me on Facetime, right now!"
Sojiro blinked at the sound of his daughter's voice. "Sorry, what? What's wrong?"
"No time to explain! Forward screens on, Helmsman Sakura! Make it so!"
"But I've never used Facetime. I…fine…" Sojiro fumbled with the phone, looking at it. He guessed at how to activate it, before the screen lit up to show his daughter's face. She looked anxious…but also excited. He didn't see her that often, save for the few times she emerged from her room to be with him. But there was also a glistening about her eyes, and tear tracks, as if she had just been crying.
"Quick, quick, quick…hand the phone over to him!" she said.
"Hold on a moment, okay? I…"
"Please, Sojiro." The urgency in her tone got through to him. He hadn't heard her speak in such a tone even as she plead for books and electronic stuff and collectibles. "Just…let me talk to him."
Eventually, Sojiro acquiesced, handing his phone over to Harry. In English, he heard his daughter say, "Is that really you, Harry?"
"Yeah, it's me, Futaba," Harry said.
And now, it clicked in Sojiro's mind. He remembered, back when Futaba's mother was still alive, Wakaba mentioning that Futaba had a penpal in England. At first, they used old-fashioned mail, but Futaba eventually pestered him into getting email. This was before Wakaba died.
Futaba didn't speak much of this penpal. Then again, she didn't discuss much of her social life (or lack thereof) even before her mother's death. Futaba had already been reclusive before that occurred, but Wakaba's death turned her into a full-time hikikomori, a shut-in.
Still, Sojiro found his paternal instincts aroused. A strange boy had been speaking with the girl who was his daughter in all but blood without his knowing. What's more, Futaba hadn't heard from him in a while. True, if Harry was telling the truth, there was a reason for it, but still…Sojiro found himself tensing a bit.
"…Where have you been?" Futaba asked. "I mean, you were saying you were in prison or something, but…"
"Sorry, hang on, how do you know?" Harry asked, blinking in surprise. "I was only telling Sojiro here."
"…Umm…I uhh…"
Sojiro sighed. "Futaba asked me to install a couple of bugs here. She's worried about me. She doesn't always listen in."
"…Okay," Harry said quietly, before returning his gaze to the screen. "Yeah, it's a long story. Futaba, I…I know you were worried about me, but I'm trying to make up for it. I kept quite a few secrets from you, but I want to tell you everything. Though I've brought you something as part of my apology, and as a Christmas present." He pulled something out of the bag.
Sojiro couldn't see Futaba's expression from this angle, but her eyes had lit up with surprise and even joy, given her awed tone. He could understand why, though. He wasn't into the show, but he recognised the colourful helmet. "…Is that a Phoenix Rangers Featherman R prop helmet?"
"Signed by the cast. It was actually in Forbidden Planet in London. I bought it before I left. Sentai shows aren't as popular in the West, Power Rangers aside, so it was probably cheaper there than it would've been over here."
Sojiro thought it was time to step in. It sounded like this kid was trying to buy his way into Futaba's good graces, or at least try and butter her up. "That's as maybe, Harry, but it's still a pretty expensive gift. So, why did you buy it?"
"…Because I thought she'd like it, and it'd go some way into helping my apology? I'm not trying to do anything untoward, Sojiro, we haven't even met properly. At best, we sent emails to each other." Harry sighed. "Besides…I need to tell her something personal and private, something that could get me and her into quite a bit of trouble otherwise."
"…Harry, whatever you want to say, unless it's pretty personal, I think Sojiro will be able to handle it," Futaba said. "Besides, he used to work for the government in hush-hush stuff with my mom."
Harry blinked, before looking at Sojiro. "Can I trust you with that?"
"Harry, I left that work because there were too many secrets. Here…" Sojiro went to the door, and put up a sign with Back in 30 Mins on it. "Okay, hopefully, nobody will barge in on us."
Harry seemed to gather himself, before he said, "Well, Futaba knows this, but my full name is Harry Potter. What she doesn't know, and what I'm risking a lot of trouble from certain corners by revealing, is that I'm a wizard…"
CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:
Well, that just happened.
Now, usually, when I do WBWL fics, it's often with a second child of James and Lily. But for my Tokyo Ghoul crossover Janus, I chose Neville Longbottom. There, Neville was a more timid and humble WBWL. Here, not so much. His grandmother and his fame have been a bad influence. Not to the point where he is evil by any means: he'll fight Voldemort. Ron is also not quite evil, just a selfish hanger-on. And there won't be Dumbledore-bashing here. He's a flawed man. And Hermione is definitely one of Harry's friends here.
But Augusta Longbottom? Oh, fuck yeah, I'm gonna be bashing the ever-loving shit out of her. Seriously, what she did or allowed to happen to Neville in canon is pretty nasty.
Harry is pretty bitter, but keep in mind, he's been banged up in Azkaban for months, he has only a few friends, he was vilified by the Ministry and the Prophet…and yet, despite all that, he does intend to help fight Voldemort in his own way. I'll reveal more later…
Also, if Futaba seems a little OOC in speaking with Harry, keep in mind, they've corresponded for the past five or six years. Harry supported her when Wakaba committed suicide, and while Futaba is still a highly-traumatised hikikomori with fairly severe Asperger's Syndrome and who probably wouldn't want Harry in her room (yet), she still wants to connect with one of the few actual friends she knows the name of. Everyone else, she's friends with online, and without knowing a real name. True, he cut off contact with her to her annoyance, but due to Hogwarts, correspondence was sparse anyway, even after Harry and Hermione figured out how to make an iPhone work at Hogwarts, and she heard what he claimed.
1. This line actually comes from the Paddy Roberts song Merry Christmas, You Suckers, sometimes known in America as And a Happy New Year. Obviously, I don't own the lyrics. This actually comes from the last verse…
But stick to it suckers, go swallow a pill,
For this is the season of peace and goodwill,
While we wait patiently for that nuclear blast,
Merry Christmas, you suckers, it may be your last…
