Not Another Bloodline War!
Zabuza-is-Harry. Warning, Zabuza tends to utter a few choice words. This started out as me thinking of possible reasons why Zabuza's chakra is a 'demonic' purple. Well, the only other character in the series with sinister purple chakra is Orochimaru, and that's because it's a side effect of him absorbing the souls of the people whose bodies he takes over. So, Zabuza must have absorbed a soul at some point. Then I realised that he pointedly wears his headband at an angle, like he's trying to hide something. And what other fictional character has a second soul and a distinguishing mark on one temple?
So...*mutters* Harry disappears at age two, transfer merges his soul with Volde's horcrux which make him temperamental and sadistic, Harry/Zabuza slaughters 100 Academy students at age five...yep, that works.
Blurb: Some of the words that Zabuza Momochi said when he was spirited away to fight in another Bloodline war were not fit for small children. Haku didn't say anything; he took out a handful of senbon needles.
Theme song: Dancing with a Wolf by All Time Low
As Team 7 walked back down the road to Konoha, at a proper shinobi pace this time, thank Kami; Kakashi Hatake was pondering.
Zabuza Momochi had become near infamous after the attempted coup, and that he was now grubbing for money by working for Gato, presumably in order to fund the resistance back in Kiri, was evidence that he was serious in trying again. Gato had planned to double cross Zabuza, mainly because the hiring contract was an extremely attractive amount of money. However, Zabuza wouldn't have known about the double cross, and would have endeavored to complete the mission. If he had known, he would most likely have killed Gato and robbed the base clean of all money. Even if either had canceled the contract with no casualties, there would be a possibility of Zabuza coming along for a rematch anyway.
Zabuza, nor the fake Hunter-nin, had not appeared. Gato himself had turned up at the bridge instead, accompanied by around two hundred assorted hired muscle, most with basic samurai training and Kakashi could have sworn that one or two were Genin or Academy level Missing-nin. The midget had ranted about how Zabuza hadn't shown up, then ordered his mooks to attack.
Naruto had made his first kill, and seemed to have gotten it through his head that being a ninja wasn't all fun and games. Sakura had had some rather...inappropriate comments directed at her when she got separated from Tazuna and cornered. Her feeble attempts at vengeance were rather pitiful. Naruto had taken one of the blows meant for her to his back, which was when he, Kakashi, arrived, a flame-coated kunai putting the men down for good. No one talked to his Genin like that! Sasuke, his arrogance making him believe he could go it alone, had been over whelmed; even with a Sharingan, melee combat was difficult, since you couldn't predict the movements of an opponent you couldn't see because they were in your blind spot. Sasuke didn't have a Sharingan, so he had almost died. A halberd had cut a deep, ragged gash between the side of his nose and one eyebrow, nearly gouging out the eye. The experience had had a humbling effect, as well as activating his Sharingan. And for all his talk of vengeance, Sasuke had hesitated when it had come to stabbing a thug in the back. That hesitation relieved Kakashi; maybe Sasuke still had some of that child left inside.
Kakashi had put Gato down himself; he didn't honour the worm with a jutsu. A kunai to the throat and it was over. The villagers, led by that boy Inari, had turned up and either drove off, maimed or killed the leftover mooks. Afterwards, Tazuna had asked that his team take whatever money and items of value Gato had left in his local headquarters, enough to cover the missions actual rank. Kakashi did it alone, leaving his little Genins in the care of Tsunami. He subtracted the cost of an A-rank mission and publicly gifted the rest to the village, on behalf of Konoha. It would get the economy up and running, and it improved Konoha's reputation; ensuring that any future missions would come to Konoha, in return helping the Village prosper.
He had said this to his Genin, and Sasuke had been the most interested. During their walk back to Konoha, he had confided in Kakashi that 'So good relations are important if you want to get stronger then?'
Maybe someday, Sasuke would live by the Will of Fire as well.
The Great Hall erupted into murmuring as the Goblet of Fire flamed for a fourth time. Dumbledore took the slip with a bemused a face as any, and read the name.
"Harry Potter!"
The murmuring turned to chaos. Harry Potter had disappeared off the face of the earth, a year after the defeat of Voldemort. People still held out hope, because the boy's name hadn't vanished off of the Hogwarts Registry. But the school owls returned with unopened letters and Harry Potter did not turn up for the sorting, did not turn up for any of the four past years.
The fire in the Goblet stretched into a thin stream of flame and rose out of the chalice, forming a large circle in the air. The Hall was silent now, all eyes watching with awe and apprehension this unforeseen occurrence. The circle glowed white hot, and two figures were roughly thrown out of it.
The smaller of the two was but a child, small of frame with long black hair tied up with cloth into a bun and a thick knitted inner robe under a long-sleeved jacket, the clothes clearly suited for cold weather. A feature less white mask, the only decoration two red swirls and some small indentations on the forehead, set the Hall abuzz with cries of 'Death Eater'. The child, despite appearances, was obviously Harry Potter; the boy was of the right age group.
The man was what really drew eyes, or rather, what the man was carrying. A truly massive blade hung across his back, almost scraping the floor with its point. Apart from the sword, the man was sparsely dressed. A sleeveless black body stocking with pale purple arm and leg warmers were his only attire, along with pouches stitched across the lower back of the suit, tightly-wrapped bandages concealing the lower half of his face and a headband adorned with a metal plate sat askew on his forehead.
They both looked around, having landed on their feet, muscles tense. The man reached over his shoulder to grasp the handle of the great sword.
Dumbledore stepped forward and coughed politely, wanting to avoid a bloodbath. Both males turned their heads to look at him. The man did not release his grip on his sword. The boy was suddenly holding a very long acupuncture needle in each hand.
"Haku!" The man snapped. "Hitojichi o tsukamimasu!" (Grab a hostage)
There was a sharp gust of wind, and the masked boy was suddenly behind one of the first years, a small black knife held to the girl's throat, her head pulled back by the boy's other hand's grasp on her hair. The Great Hall erupted into terrified screaming and some rushed for the door.
The man drew his sword and slammed it's point into the flagstone floor. Cracks spiderwebbed outwards in a small radius and the blade actually embedded itself a few inches. "URUSAI!" Was the man's accompanying shout.
Dumbledore's mind raced. A translation spell was needed first though, it would not do to offend their aggressor more than was already apparent. He hadn't even seen the boy move, so what speeds must this older, more experienced, warrior be capable of? The strength to wield such a blade around as if it were no more than a stick would be absolutely phenomenal.
The spell, thankfully invisible and fast moving(he dreaded to imagine what the swordsman would do if he perceived that he was being attacked, and he would not risk the life of any of his students), splashed against the man's arm; he hadn't appeared to have noticed anything, thankfully. He sent one at the masked boy as well.
"Now that I have your attention," the man continued, his voice deceptively calm. "Before my friend carves out that girl's windpipe and I slop your internal organs all over the floor, somebody explain WHAT IN THE FUCKING HELL JUST GOT ME HERE AND WHERE IS HERE?!"
"Lightning bolt scar, huh?" The man, Zabuza Momochi, grunted; he was seated on a sofa in the alcove where the other Champions were, sword balanced over one shoulder and the boy named Haku standing next to him. "So you dragged me from my mission, wasting me some good pay, just to compete against kiddies for nothing whatsoever? If wasn't for the fact that you can get me back, I'd be painting the walls with your blood."
The adults and children alike paled. Barty Crouch coughed nervously to get Zabuza's attention.
"Well, actually, Mr Momochi, the Triwizard Tournament has a prize of one thousand galleons and fame across Europe. Since galleons are made of gold, they should be of some considerable value, even if they are not the currency you are used to. The fame as well...'"
"Don't need the fame," Zabuza cut him off. "I'm already the Demon of the Bloody Mist, what fame could I possibly need or want from competing in some pansy-ass pseudo-Chunin exam?"
Dumbledore frowned. "I'm afraid that you cannot compete, Mr Momochi. Harry Potter, quite obviously the boy at your side, shall be taking part. In fact, if he would remove his mask, I am certain that he will fit the description of Mr Potter exactly."
Quite unexpectedly, Zabuza began to laugh; silently, shoulders shaking. With a few heaving breaths, he calmed, before reaching up to the crooked headband on his brow. "Haku ain't your kid, old man. I can say that with absolute certainty."
He wrenched the headband away, giving everyone in the room a good look at the faint lightning-bolt scar etched on the temple that the material had previously covered.
Ludo Bagman fainted.
"Master Zabuza wishes for me to inform you that he shall not be joining the other inhabitants of the castle for dinner. Also, where might I find a whetstone and an oilcloth?"
Professor Sprout blinked in surprise at the masked child standing before her. "Oh, I see. Well, that is understandable. You could ask Hagrid for a whetstone and an oilcloth, but I can't guarantee he'll have them. If you ask the House Elves nicely, they'll bring a meal to your room."
"House Elves?"
Oh. Right. Different culture. "Allow me to demonstrate. Loppy!"
The House Elf in charge of the greenhouses popped in. "What can Loppy be doing for Professor Sprouty?"
The child was staring intently at the House Elf, twirling one of those long needles in one hand. Professor Sprout sighed.
"Can you please take Haku here over to Hagrid's Hut to ask for some items? If Hagrid doesn't have them, can you then procure them yourself?"
"Certainly! Loppy shall take pretty snow girl to Hagrid!" Professor Sprout blinked; "But, I thought...'"
"You are correct, Professor. I am male. Do not apologise; I am used to it."
Loppy squeaked in embarrassment. "Oh no! Loppy has made mistake! Young master's aura is too cold to read! Loppy must have punishment Professor Sprouty!" The Professor reached into her pocket and pulled out a knut. "Here you go." The distraught Elf took it and vanished with a pop.
Professor Sprout sighed. "Never mind, I can take you. But if you don't mind me asking, why dress in such a feminine manner?"
"People pay more attention to a boy than a girl; I can get into more places if I am thought of as female."
Hufflepuff may not have been the House of the intelligent, but that didn't mean they were stupid. Professor Sprout swallowed dryly at the implications of that sentence, especially in certain contexts. "I...see. Are you happy in your life with Mr Momochi?"
"I understand your concern Professor, but I am happy. I have devoted my life to Master Zabuza; if it is his desire for me to proceed with one of those situations you are thinking of, I shall do so gladly and to the best of my abilities."
Ollivander gulped as he looked at the huge blade in front of him, tip resting on the ground and the handle held by who people said was Harry Potter(now going by Zabuza Momochi), but looked more like a killer than the Death Eaters in the last war.
"Don't have one of those sticks," Mr Momochi rumbled through the bandages covering his lower face. "Just Executioner's Blade here."
"I am not a blade expert," Ollivander said firmly. "Would you mind sharing any information about your weapon for the benefit of the observers since you are far more qualified to do do?"
"Dragons," Zabuza Momochi said, deadpan, as he stared at the tiny model in his hand. "You have giant, armoured, flying, fire-breathing reptiles, easily weighing in at over eight tons. And everyone knows that female of pretty much every animal species is more deadly than the male. You have four female dragons outside, everyone of them in full pissed-off, hormonal, mama-bear with cubs mode, and you want us to steal what they think are their babies. The only safety feature is that the dragons are tied to the ground, but even then, I have my doubts about those chains and did you forget the projectile fire-breathing?"
The other three brats were looking kind of queasy, and even the proctor guy looked like he was going to keel over any second. Zabuza looked back down at the tiny model(which was moving. Seriously, that would be so useful when he got back to the Elemental Nations, especially if you could get them to attack certain people.) and said, "I love it. Throwing these three weaklings out there seems a bit useless, but I'm definitely in. Do you want the beasts dead or alive when I'm done?"
