RuroKen and the Chamber of secrets

Chosha's notes

Waaaaaay! RKatCoS is finally here! Thank you everyone who read RKatPS, but if you haven't, go read it, cause this follows on! but anyway, the moment you all have been waiting for - let's get the show on the road!

Disclaimer: I own neither RK or HP, they belong to Watsuki-sama and JK Rowling-sama.

Chapter One

Owl in the Mountains

The streets of Kyoto were bustling with people in the July sun, enjoying the warm weather they had been experiencing of late. The towering buildings reached up to the skies and shops were all open, selling everything from the latest game console to designer clothing. Just your average day for many people in Japan. It was not a place you would expect anything as extraordinary as magic would be hiding… and you would be right. Despite the amazing technology the Japanese had come up with, There was very little – if any – magic to be found in this city. The real kind, anyway.

Almost overshadowing Kyoto was a large mountain, covered in forest; it looked almost like it was of another world. Birds and animals of all kinds could be seen between the trees and, unlike the urban centre of Kyoto, nothing was rushed or in a hurry. Life was serene, calming, almost enchanting, especially when the sun pierced through the canopy of leaves, scattering beams of light over the ground. Passed the forest was a river, which flowed down the mountain with a cheerful, gurgling sound, harmonising with sweet bird song. It was almost a shame that the ordinary people in Kyoto didn't have the time to just stand and appreciate nature at work. No one, that is, but one lone child.

Twelve-year old Himura Kenshin walked into the sunlight, shielding his eyes from the bright sun. His eyes were one of the startling things about this boy. Even though he was obviously of Japanese decent, his eyes weren't dark in colour, but an intense amethyst that seemed to look into your very soul. But even more startling about his appearance was his hair, which was a startling ruby-red that appeared almost golden-tinted as the sun's rays graced him. He was dressed in a white training gi and pale blue hakama, which masked his slim form in loose cloth. Though he was twelve, Kenshin bore the appearance of someone much younger, perhaps even a ten year old with his youthful features, despite his body having the form of a more toned, older child. Most would say Kenshin had all the luck. By the time he was twenty-eight, he would probably look no older than sixteen. Kenshin would say that it was just one more thing for his Shishou to tease him about. In one hand, Kenshin held a thick, leather-bound book, in the other, a slim form of a sheathed Japanese sword – not something you would expect a normal twelve-year-old to be carrying. But then again, Himura Kenshin wasn't what you would call a normal twelve-year-old.

Kenshin smiled a little as he placed the book and Katana down by a tree and stretched in the warmth like a cat. He enjoyed this type of weather. Somehow, his spirits always seemed to be higher when the sun was out. It wasn't swelteringly hot either, which made it perfect weather for what he had come out here to do.

The boy picked up his sword and slid it into his obi, before drawing the blade expertly. The odd thing about this sword was that the blade was on backwards. Where, on the normal Katana, the sharp edge was on the curved side, the dull edge opposite to it, this blade had the dull edge on the cutting side and the sharp edge on the other. A reverse-blade sword, it was called, a sakabato, designed to go against the nature of a weapon. It was designed not to kill, but to protect others.

Kenshin didn't look at the blade for long as he closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly to centre himself. Without warning, Kenshin dropped into stance and began the dance of death – the kata of the most lethal kenjutsu style known as the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu.

For his small size and innocent features, one would never have guessed that he would be any good at swordsmanship, but anyone who knew him well knew better. Kenshin could fly higher, move swifter and be so much more accurate than even some master kendo teachers – even more so now he had spent the time he had since he returned from his boarding-school training with his master in the secluded mountains again. In fact, the only person who could best him was his shishou – though his shishou was determined never to tell him that.

It took around an hour for Kenshin to complete his kata and he slid the sakabato in one swift movement back into the saya. Brushing his bangs from his face and pushing his long fox-like ponytail off his shoulder, Kenshin threw himself down unceremoniously by the tree to cool off in the shade, placed down his sakabato down next to him respectfully and picked up the large book from the grass.

This was the strangest thing about Himura Kenshin. It wasn't that he learned Kenjutsu of his hermit-like master in the mountains, or the colour of his hair or eyes. The strangest thing was what he was studying now. The book's contents wasn't written on paper, but parchment and written on the parchment, in English, rather than his native language, with a little Latin, were incantations, charms and spells. Himura Kenshin wasn't a normal boy – Himura Kenshin was a wizard.

Kenshin read over the spells in the book with a small frown. He had been given some homework from his teachers back at the large boarding school for witches and wizards, located somewhere in London (or at least, you got there from London) called Hogwarts. Most of it he had done – now all he had to do was finish reading up on charms and he would be finished. At least, normally he would be. Kenshin sweat-dropped. His master, or course, would insist he check it over and re-read everything. Honestly, he could be such a perfectionist at times.

It was as he was reading this that something fell out of the air on top of him – literally. A grey thing shot down in front of his eyes and collided with his book, causing Kenshin to yelp in surprise.

"Oro!"

On his lap was what Kenshin first assumed was some type of feather duster, except that having a feather duster fall on you in the middle of a deserted mountain was an insane thought. But when Kenshin took a closer look, he found it wasn't a feather duster at all, but a rather old, moulting grey owl. Kenshin prodded it with a finger and sweat-dropped, as it didn't move. A half dead moulting grey owl…

At least it was still alive…sort of.

Carefully, Kenshin picked it up and carried it to the stream, holding it so it had its beak facing the water. That seemed to revive it as it immediately began to gulp at the water with gusto. Kenshin propped up the bird on the riverbank so it could reach at the water, but wouldn't fall in and drown.

Why would an owl like this be all the way out here? He thought idly as he looked it over. There were many types of birds on the mountain, but owls were not very common at all. In fact, the only owl that Kenshin knew of in the six years he had lived there was one rather special barn-owl, which belonged to him. Mika, as he had dubbed her on the day she was bought for him one year ago, was a postal owl, which all wizards used for communication.

That was when he noticed it. Around the owl's leg, almost hidden beneath moulting grey feathers was a small roll of parchment. Kenshin stared at it for a moment, then grinned as he realised what it was. Only one type of person he knew would send him a letter written on parchment and delivered by owl and that was another wizard.

Carefully, he relieved the bird of its burden (though it didn't seem to notice – it had fallen asleep) and unfolded it, wondering who it could be from. He soon found his answer as he looked down at the scrawl written only just legibly and recognised it immediately. It was from Ron Weasley, one of the first friends Kenshin had made in the wizarding world.

Hey mate, (it said)

Long time no see. How are you and how are things in Japan? Hey, it's like having a pen pal. I hope this gets to you okay. Errol is the family owl, he's ancient and it wouldn't be the first time he collapsed on a delivery-

Kenshin raised an eyebrow as he looked down at what looked like a snoring, old feather duster on the ground next to him. Really - No kidding!

-I tried to borrow Percy's owl, Hermes, but Percy was being mean, as usual. Says he needs him. I swear he's acting weird lately. He's been sending loads of letters and he's shutting himself in his room a lot. I mean, there's only so many times you can polish a prefects badge!

Anyway, things have been pretty good here other than that. Hey, you remember when I offered to ask you all over to stay at my place? Well, Mom and Dad say it's all right. In fact, mom was practically begging to have you come over – I dunno what you did, but she adores you already!

Kenshin blushed at that. All he did was thank Mrs Weasley for the homemade jumper and Fudge she had made him for Christmas last year.

Dad also says that your Master can come too. Says he wouldn't want you to lose your practice time, but I think he just wants to bombard him with questions about Muggle-stuff. He's mad on anything Muggle made-

Yes, unlike Kenshin, his shishou, Hiko Seijuro, master of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu, was a Muggle (a non-magic person), but he was also a hermit by nature (why else would Kenshin be living on the mountain side several miles away from civilisation?) He had to wonder how Hiko would react to that.

-I think he might get a shock when he sees him though. He's huge! Anyway, If he doesn't mind, or if he lets you come, send an owl back and we'll sort out the rest!

Hope to hear from you soon, Mate!

Ron

Kenshin picked up the book and his Sakabato, tucking them under his arm, the sword into his obi, before picking up the owl doubtfully. He didn't think Errol would survive the return trip. It would be better if he got Mika to deliver his answer. She had plenty of advantages – she was younger, strong, fast and was well used to long distance flights. Plus she didn't look as if she would drop dead at a moment's notice. Carefully carrying the poor creature, Kenshin set out at a jog to find his shishou.

It wasn't long before Kenshin came upon a clearing in the woodland. In the centre of the clearing was a rather old, but sturdy, shack-like hut, which Kenshin shared with his hermit-like master. Outside was a long, overturned log which was, more often than not, used as a sort of bench, that lay close to the remnants of last night's fire. Kenshin noticed smoke coming from a smaller part attached to the hut. It looked as if Hiko was doing the job that actually got them any money – making pottery. The pottery made by Hiko Seijuro was quite famous in Kyoto and surrounding towns and was worth quite a lot of money. Sometimes Kenshin wondered how his stuff could be worth so much. But, then again, if it weren't, they probably would have starved long ago, the amount Hiko spent on sake.

Carefully, Kenshin slipped off his Zori-like sandals and slid open the fushuma, stepping inside. The hut consisted of one main room, a room they used for storing things mostly concerned with Kenjutsu and the opening of Hiko's small kiln. In the corner of the main room were two folded futons and blankets, while a large fireplace sat opposite, unlit at the moment. Also inside, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor was the largest Asian you had ever seen. Almost seven foot tall in height when standing up, he towered over Kenshin's four foot seven, making Kenshin feel tiny most of the time, though Hiko would always say it was his fault for being so small. He was wearing Gi and Hakama and, across his broad shoulders was an elaborate white cloak that Kenshin had never seen him without. Thick, jet-black hair was tied back into a low ponytail, though some of it framed his face. Though the man must be close to forty, he still held the face and form of a twenty-five year old. Lying by him, well within arms reach was his katana, though his hands worked on clay. Kenshin watched with mild interest as his hands turned it from a wet blob into the form of an elegant piece of art.

As Kenshin slid the fushuma closed behind him, his master glanced up from what he was doing. He glanced at Kenshin, at the bundle of feathers in his arms, then back at Kenshin again. His face fell into its customary smirk.

"What did we say about bringing back stray animals, Baka Deshi?"

Kenshin sighed. Still, after all this time, Hiko still called him his idiot apprentice, even though Kenshin had proved he was nothing of the sort. He still called him it, though, said the name had stuck.

"It's not a stray, Shishou," Kenshin pointed out. "It's a postal owl from my friend Ron from Hogwarts"

Hiko gave it a hard look. "Funny looking owl. Thing looks half dead."

"Shishou!" Kenshin yelped, though secretly he agreed. Errol couldn't take much more of this. Of course, he wasn't going to give Hiko an excuse to blow out of proportion his already blown own of proportioned ego.

"So, seeing as your friend's owl is here and not in England, I'm guessing you had a letter. And seeing as you didn't come back just to interrupt me so you could show me how much it looks like a mouldy feather duster (though I wouldn't put it passed you), I'm guessing you have something in that letter you want to tell me."

Sometimes Kenshin really had to wonder whether the guy really was a Muggle or not. Really, sometimes he was so apt at reading him it bordered on scary.

Kenshin passed the letter to Hiko, who wiped his hands of clay, took it and read it speedily (after all, it as Hiko who taught Kenshin English in the first place) while Kenshin waited for the verdict…and waited…and waited…

"Well Shishou?" Asked Kenshin, impatience finally getting the better of him.

"Well what, Baka Deshi?"

Kenshin gritted his teeth, but tried to sound pleasant. "Can I go then?"

Hiko rubbed his chin as if thinking. Kami, that man could drive the most patient of people up the wall!

"Well, we will need to get to London at some point and, since it takes you weeks to get over Jet-lag, It might do you some good, otherwise you'd fall asleep during your lessons." Kenshin almost whooped, until he saw Hiko's smirk and that glint in his eyes. Uh oh… "Of course, that will mean I will have to come with you to make sure you aren't slacking off like you did last year."

"Shishou!" Kenshin yelped indignantly. Slacking off! Sure, so fighting off mountain trolls, and people possessed by one of the most dark wizards of all time wasn't training at all… Still, Hiko had said he could go! He had never gone to a wizard's house before. The Weasleys were purebloods – everyone in the family was magic. He was sure the whole place would be filled with magic.

"I hope you weren't going to send a reply with that," Hiko said, pointing at Errol, "Or they'll never get it"

"Iie, I was going to send Mika when she gets back from hunting."

Hiko smirked. "Guess you aren't that stupid after all, Baka deshi."

Kenshin chose to ignore that. Instead, he made his way to the storeroom and opened a large trunk that sat in one corner, which was almost half the size of Kenshin. Written on it, in typical western fashion was the name 'Kenshin Himura' in fancy gold lettering. Throwing open the lid, he began to sort through the jumble of leather bound books and school uniform (Jet-black robes with the crest for Gryffindor, the house Kenshin was in at Hogwarts – a Golden, rampant lion on a red background.) to find a quill, ink and parchment to write his reply. Flattening out the roll, he arranged himself in a more comfortable position on the floor, dipped his quill into the ink and began to write.

Dear Ron,

Things have been fine here – when Hiko isn't pestering me too much to spar. I think he thinks beating me to jelly will help. Perhaps it will – at least I'll know to get out the way of the attack. Its good to hear from you, I haven't heard much about what's going on in the magic world. Have you heard from the others? Sanosuke and Kaoru sent a letter – she had to borrow Mr Sagara's owl.

Thank you for the invitation to your house. I asked Hiko if he didn't mind me coming. He said yes, but he would like to come too, to make sure I don't get rusty. I hope it's not a bother.

"What are you doing, Baka Deshi, writing an essay?" Kenshin heard from the other room. "Your owl's back."

"Hai Shishou. I'll be there in a minute"

Speak of the devil, He just yelled me to tell me Mika has come back from hunting. I'm sending this with her; your owl seems like he might not make a return flight. Don't worry though, I'll keep my eye on him to make sure he recovers.

Hope to see you soon,

Kenshin

Kenshin got up, blowing on the ink to make sure it had dried, before folding it and making his way out of the storeroom to find Mika sitting on top of her cage. It was a beautiful thing with silky feathers of snow white and faun brown with dark eyes that had a spark of intelligence common in only wizard owls. She hooted softly in greeting as Kenshin held out his arm to her and she glided with utter grace to perch there. Kenshin smiled and stroked the owl's feathers, attaching the letter to the ring on her leg.

"Would you take this to Ron, Mika-chan?" He asked softly. Mika nuzzled his hand and nipped his finger affectionately before Kenshin carried her to the door. Sliding open the fushuma, the sunlight flooded into the room, bathing them in golden beams. Kenshin stroked Mika with a finger before she launched herself from his arm on silent wings. She circled once before flying off into the sky, her form growing smaller and smaller as she followed the path of the afternoon sun.

TBC

Chosha's notes:

What do you think? you like? you don't? Reviews please!

Next time on RKatCoS

Kenshin's off to England, but hows he gonna get there? whats the Universal Floo Network? and Why does he have a bad feeling about this? next episode: The Green Flames

Ja ne for now! see you next time!

Chosha Kurenai xXx