Hey, sorry. I meant to upload about a week ago, but my grandfather was hospitalized with leukemia and my whole family, consisting of between 25 and 50 people, all live within a mile of each other so everything is always a huge family affair. But he's supposed to be out soon. Then I got sick, but lucky me, I got a whole week of snow break from college so I finally got to finish this chapter.
I figured that with the wait I should make this thing longer than I had originally planned and it just kept building. I'm pretty sure you can tell where I was going to stop several times, but getting it posted for everyone is more of a priority. And hey, it's 11 pages in Word. Does it make up for the delay?
Also, I had forgotten to turn off the poll, so the last minute voter didn't count. Sorry. I knew because I checked between my classes. So that means that dear Naru is going to England all on his lonesome. I had then realized that people thought this was a sixth year fic. This is a fifth year fic, however, I figured out that the poll would actually determine that, and if Bee went with him, the plot would only work with Half-Blood Prince. But, yay, it worked out. On another note, to clarify, this story will not have pairings. I don't really do romance well and that's not the point of Naru coming over, plus he has to go back anyways and the drama that would cause between whomever he liked would complicate things into a mess I don't want to touch. Therefore, I'm offering the 50th reviewer their choice of one-shot, whether it be pairing between Naru, or people back in Naru world, or Hogwarts students, whatever, or if they just want some scene I didn't put in here. I'm also debating a sixth year cross, which wouldn't be related to this one, or a seventh year, which could be if you guys want. Either way, I'm focusing on this one first. PM or review me if you have an opinion or idea.
As always, thank you for reading and please enjoy things I've never owned.
Harry woke in a cold sweat, gasping for air in the oppressive early July heat, black hair plastered to his forehead and clothes soaked through in patches, sticking to clammy skin. Shaky hands tangled in thin sheets as he felt his lungs fill and empty repeatedly in rapid uneven motions, slowly drawing him further away from the land of dreams and his most recent nightmare – his haunting yet seemingly meaningless dream. Shrugging off the lingering image of the door, he pushed round wire-rimmed glasses roughly onto his nose, watching them transform the world in a steady ripple from the mosaic of blurs. Removing himself from the tangle of blankets, bare feet met the floor and he rose slowly, picking his way across the room with only the meager moonlight as a guide to the cage in the corner. The small drape usually covering the bars from harsh sunlight was discarded, leaving only thin round bars between him and the regal white feathers of his owl. Hedwig turned soft amber eyes on him, seeming almost sympathetic to his nightly plight before hooting quietly. A small knot in his stomach unwound as he threaded fingers around cool metal, brushing knuckles against soft tuft. "I'm fine girl," he cooed softly, "I just wish I could let you out."
The owl simply nipped his fingers fondly before settling further into her perch. Harry sighed, casting a nasty glare at the bars on his window, marking the room as his own unofficial cage. Uncle Vernon would no longer allow a freak like him free reign, no matter what demands 'his kind' made. Still, he supposed that allowing him to receive letters from his friends was enough of a luxury as far as the Dursley's were concerned. Not that they told him much anyways. Ron and Hermione, no matter how much he asked, demanded, or pleaded through the parchment, refused to even mention anything regarding the Order or Voldemort's movements. They avoided the issue entirely, even when he asked directly, in a one sentence letter, and it only frustrated him further to watch them evade the topic. It had escalated to the point where he would dread the owls and refused to respond to the two who seemed to have all but abandoned him. Summers had passed where their writings were the only things that gave him hope, reminded him of tall, cool stone and crackling fires that occupied his days at Hogwarts alongside them. Now, he would almost rather them not try to contact him at all if they would only prattle on incessantly about inconsequential matters. See? He had even looked through a dictionary in hopes that if he confronted Hermione in her own language she would finally tell him something. She had only corrected his spelling and moved on. His dissatisfaction was to the point that receiving a small roll of parchment in the morning would leave him brooding silently the rest of the day, not even throwing a snide remark his aunt's way when assigned his chores. Somehow, he was convinced that his complacency was part of the reason he was allowed the letters. Far be it from Uncle Vernon to withhold something that would upset his little freak of a freeloader. Harry certainly felt special, for all the attention his relatives dedicated towards his wellbeing – more specifically, tearing it apart. Really, who wouldn't be satisfied with all of that concern? Harry was definitely more than satisfied. He could do with a lot less concern.
Warm hands rested against the glass, a fine, almost undetectable mist spreading around the skin to leave a ghost of an imprint on the window as he watched the yellow glow of the streetlights below flicker occasionally over the empty asphalt. The trees and bushes rustling softly in the summer breeze, like children stirring from a dream beneath their blankets before settling further into bliss, were the only movements among the identical houses. It seemed he was the only life awake at this hour, like the living amongst the dead. He shivered, gripping his arms, burying his nails into his skin. A stone angel with trapping arms, the face of his friend, eyes cold and blank, "Cedric", figures cloaked in black, stone rough against his thrashing chest as he tried for freedom, a long, burning in his skin, pain drowned by the screaming in his scar, and him. A sudden screech broke him from the memory and Hedwig flapped caged wings wildly, hooting again, a decidedly softer sound. He threw her a shaky smile and let his back lean against the wall, slowly sliding down to sit, not trusting his legs to hold him. He glanced over at the clock on his desk; it was roughly 3 in the morning. There was no way he would be able to sleep now, and Aunt Petunia would come to wake him up at 6 to prepare breakfast for her walrus of a husband, before seeing that he was assigned another list of chores. Maybe he would find time to slip away to the nearby park when she went to visit her ladies luncheon he knew was today. Dudley was almost always with his 'gang', read immature, oversized thugs, so it would be easy to finish the majority of the daily agenda set by horse face before sneaking off. Yes, quite easy. Harry almost smiled as he settled against the wall, a break would be nice.
Voices wafted up the gloomy stairwell as the teens all clustered around the twins near the railing with their newest contraption, hoping it would work and that Mad-Eye didn't come back out for one last security sweep. All the adults knew the students were bent on being involved in the Order and had caught a person once or twice trying to eavesdrop, like they were doing now; however, Mad-Eye hadn't improved the security, they suspected not of his own will, but because he was outnumbered largely by the lax attitudes of the other members. Not that the kids were going to complain, if Moody decided to actually get serious, they might have to reevaluate the danger risks.
The fleshy ear-look-a-like on the string in the red-head boys' hands finally landed near the crack underneath the door and the soft murmurs in the air slowly morphed into decipherable words coming from the string before one of the two shoved the end in his ear. His face was slightly scrunched as he supposedly sorted through the ambling chatter of the elder members cooped up inside the dining room. Harry watched him closely, waiting for information he had long since been denied. Suddenly eyes widened. "Apparently we're gettin' another boarder here soon," he whispered in surprise, "An exchange student by the sounds of it."
At that, Hermione scoffed, "That can't be-". A chorus of 'shhh's silenced her before she went into lecture mode on the school's history and the implicated fallacy of the twin's findings. Harry had perked up at the notion before scowling slightly, he didn't want to know about the going-ons of Hogwarts, not at the moment at least, he wanted to know about Voldemort, about what he was doing and what they were doing in return to stop him.
The short quiet and his musings were broken again as the twin with the Extendable Ear, George he thought, spoke again. "Seems the bloke's coming tonight," a low murmur rose from each member, "And from somewhere 'bloody far away' according to Sirius." Harry lifted his head faintly at his godfather's name. "Though the greasy git doesn't seem to enjoy the idea of him, must be a decent bloke then." Fred nodded sagely next to him. Harry, on the other hand, didn't see any difference from the man's usual behavior towards the rest of humanity, excluding his little nest of snakes of course. Still, he watched intently as George resumed filtering the chatter, waiting for the next tidbit and hoping it was actually Voldemort related. Brown eyes widened with panic as he yanked the string out of his ear in a jerky motion. "Abort! Abort!" he whispered franticly, trying to wind up the loose string before the Order members opened the door. Everyone scrambled, Ginny trying to leap up from her hunched position next to her brothers and falling hard into Ron who sprawled forward, chest hitting the wood floor with a thud that sent a little stream of panic into Harry's blood at the loudness of it. And apparently he wasn't the only one. Hermione yanked on the redhead's arm as Ginny untangled herself before grabbing Hermione and taking off down the hall towards the girl's room. Harry looked at Ron who had finally regained his feet and made for their own shared room just as Fred and George finished with the Ear and left in the other direction. The sound of the door creaking open below them followed them into the safety of the four walls plastered temporarily with Quidditch posters of players clad in jarring orange as the boys quickly shut the door behind them, hearts racing with the close call. Forget Mad-Eye, Mrs. Weasley would be furious. Both boys felt the shiver of fear from maternal fury.
Naruto stood silently before Tsunade, casting a glance towards the other Kages seated next to her, his back stiff. He recognized his friend, blank face with an unusual spark in his eyes, as the Kazekage – he was still annoyed he got the Kage title before he did, and the bulky dark-skinned man he had met once before, as the Raikage, Octopops' brother. He sincerely wished for the older Jinchuriki to suddenly appear beside him. He wasn't scared of the Kages, absolutely not; however, he did fear Tsunade's wrath if he fell back into routine in front of her colleagues, it was really considered insubordination, not that either of them really cared usually, but Iruka-sensei had warned him that doing so would make Tsunade-baa-chan look weak or incompan – incempe – whatever that word was. Konoha couldn't afford to look weak, not after Pein's attack, Danzo's stint as Hokage, and the Godaime's coma. He would support his beloved village in any way possible, even if it made him beyond nervous and uncomfortable for the moment.
Tsunade sighed as she looked over the scroll the blonde had handed over when he had first entered. Looks like Yamato actually found a fake mission to assign him, but really? To categorize wild animals for use as weapons and essential assets? She almost didn't want to know why Naruto had thought it was a real mission or even how he actually managed. She had discussed the island's natural inhabitants with the Raikage to gain some insight of just where she had sent the young Shinobi. It did actually sound like something Naruto would pull off. The lovable idiot… She raised her eyes back to the stiff boy in front of her, an intense look of concentration on his face that made him seem more constipated than serious. What was going through his mind she couldn't guess, but it was slightly fascinating to watch the results. And judging by the slight amused spark in the young red-head's eyes next to her, Gaara also found the sight of his squirming fellow Jinchuriki entertaining. She almost felt sorry for him. Instead she cleared her throat, "Good work". She struggled not to let her exasperation or her incredulous enjoyment show through as she studied him over laced fingers. "After consulting with the other Kages, we have decided that upon the successful completion of your S-rank mission, another, more important mission would be assigned." She watched as his discomfort morphed first into disbelief then excitement. She smiled slightly at his antics and ignored the small jolt of guilt. "This mission is a follow-up to an S-class secret tucked away several years ago, most recently acted upon by the late Sandaime Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen." She noticed the surprise of the other Shinobi in the room. She hadn't informed them that this mission actually was in fact a mission, a mission that several Hokages had wanted to execute before, but were never able. The situation at hand just made it so much easier, and if it was Naruto, he would somehow make it through. "For this mission," she pulled a small scroll next to her, banded with black on the top and bottom, resting her hand over it, "you will be traveling outside of the Elemental Nations, outside of the Shinobi world."
Silence fell across the room. Naruto was frozen, wide eyes playing shock, excitement, disbelief, and a whole myriad of emotions in a few seconds, so dizzying to her, she half expected the blonde to stagger or fall. "Outside?" his voice was a whisper, almost reverent. She could understand. Most Shinobi were never told of the world outside the Nations, it was unnecessary. The Great Sage and the few Shinobi at that time had broken off from the rest of the world, sealing their culture away, trapping themselves with the nine beasts. It was history so old, few knew of it. She wouldn't be surprised if even a few of the Five Great Nations had lost the accounts. But Konoha had not, and they had made contact with people from outside, though they had never traveled there. Naruto would be the first, which was why, though the mission had been conceived as a fake, was all entirely too important for the Shinobi Alliance now. She smiled as she let her hands drop to cradle the scroll and nodded softly. A grin slowly spread across his face, though he remained where he stood.
She extended the scroll to him and he slowly crossed the room, fingers wrapping around it firmly. "Do you, Uzumaki Naruto, accept this S-rank mission to the country of England, a location outside of the Nations?"
"Yes, Hokage-sama."
Tsunade recoiled slightly in surprise. Naruto had never addressed her as such. Maybe the situation had finally gotten through to him. "You will be required to write reports once a month on your progress, and bring them with you upon your return. It is too risky to send sensitive information that far for the moment."
He nodded then paused. "Wait, you said 'months'?"
"Yes," she replied matter-of-factly, undaunted by the shock loosening his muscles, "You will be staying there for a period of a year at best. In addition to the monthly reports, I will expect an overall report and an overview at the time of your return or the completion of your mission." She crossed her arms beneath her chest and turned her chair to face the windows, not caring to see the reaction she knew would eventually come. "There will be a friend waiting for you upon your arrival. I have already contacted him and made arrangements for your stay. Do as he says, brat."
She heard the indignant sputtering and grinned darkly out at the village below. Yes, this was more like it. Now, if only she could get him to call her Tsunade-sama or Hokage-sama at home, everything would be prefect. "You will leave tomorrow morning. Meet me here and we'll go from there."
"But Tsunade-baa-chan-". A pointed heel flew past his head, slamming into the wall, and staying in its nice cozy hole. "Understood, Tsunade-sama!" And ran out the door.
A small chuckle came from her right and she repressed the urge to glare at the young Kazekage. "He really doesn't change, does he, Hokage-sama?" A small, rare smile was on his face as he watched the door where the blonde had left.
"Don't remind me," she groaned.
The next morning, Naruto stood in front of the Kages once more, their guards absent from behind their shoulders. The weak morning light filtered through the windows as the sun started to peak above the mountains and cliffs Kumogakure was nestled in. He tried to suppress a yawn, blinking still slightly bleary eyes. He had been so excited last night after leaving the assembly that he had gushed to Bee for hours, promising to bring back tons of souvenirs from the outside when the older Jinchuriki had pouted about his brother once again locking him inside the village, as per usual. The blonde had winced, with guilt for his unabashed excitement and sympathy when he had imagined Tsunade ordering him to stay in the makeshift buildings behind the Hokage mountain for the duration of the war. He knew he would never stay, if she couldn't be swayed, then he would sneak or force his way out, which ever would work best, but he knew baa-chan wouldn't do that to him, she understood his need to protect his friends, to prove himself to the villagers, and she wouldn't take that from him. Even better, she was giving him important s-rank missions back to back, missions to bolster their attack power and assist in the upcoming war. His anticipation thrummed through his veins again as he sluggishly dragged himself further into the middle of the assembled Shinobi, the adrenaline gradually spreading around his body. By the time he was poised before them, black banded scroll in his hands resting behind the small of his back, waiting for the blonde Hokage to speak, he was almost vibrating in place.
"Naruto," Tsunade's strong voice rang through the stiff, silent air, and his blue eyes snapped to her brown, "You will soon depart for England. You will be traveling with this." A small button laid in her now outstretched palm and she waited solemnly for him to take it. He shot her a disbelieving glance before hesitantly removing it, clutching it to his chest. She coughed, a slight pink tinge to her cheeks as the others also regarded her curiously. "You will arrive at a safe house where our friend will be waiting for you. His name is Dumbledore. Trust him. He has arranged everything for your stay. I will reiterate this again brat; do as he says. You don't know what this place is like. Neither do I, nor anyone in the Elemental Nations. Be careful." She paused and glared at him, before her honey eyes softened and gazed at him imploringly.
He grinned, holding out the fist incasing the button. "'Course baa-chan, what else would I do," he declared cheerily, not noticing the woman's bland, unimpressed look.
Eventually, she cleared her throat and sighed, "Impudent brat. Remember, you aren't only a Konoha Shinobi on a mission, this time, you're a representative of the Elemental Nations and Shinobi as a whole," she glared, "Don't screw this up." The only response was a wider grin that quickly fell.
Naruto, shocked, turned wide eyes to his stomach, "What?" He probed at Kyuubi, Hey, what's going on? It didn't feel like the normal tug whenever the furball wanted to talk to him and it was unsettling.
A deep rumble echoed through his head, That's not me, kit. Naruto froze.
At the table, A recognized that look, having seen it on his brother when conversing with the Hachibi, and eyed the Hokage next to him, waiting for her to acknowledge the bijuu's interference. Instead, she simply intertwined her fingers. "Naruto," the young man looked at her suddenly, slightly worried eyes glued to her calm composure, "Do you feel a tug?" A raised an eyebrow at the odd question.
The young container apparently shared his thoughts before letting his panic slip from him. "Tsuunade-baa-chan, you know what's happening?" His voice was anxious and hopeful.
The woman nodded, brow slightly furrowed, but didn't seem to respond to the obvious question left hanging. "I expect you back in a year in good condition brat."
Naruto frowned, confused before the tug turned into a yank, pulling the air out of him as his body was squeezed and crushed by overwhelming pressure on all sides. His view of the room blurred and he tried to reach out to one of the others in the room, catching nothing, forgetting the objects already in his hands. Black started to swirl into his vision as he heard the woman's voice he considered family ring out, "Good luck."
Dinner progressed as usual, without a hint of their earlier mischief. Ginny still bantered with Fred and George across the table, Ron still stuffed himself, talking periodically without stopping to swallow, and Hermione still uselessly berated him on manners and proper etiquette. Harry pushed around the remains of his dinner with a vacant sigh, thinking back to the letter declaring his expulsion from Hogwarts for under aged magic in front of a muggle and Mr. Weasley assuring him no such thing would happen, muttering something about a trial. All he really wanted was to be in the enveloping warmth of the Gryffindor common room, feel the soothing cool breeze in the first weeks of the fading summer as he sat beside the lake, and to not have to deal with resurrected mad men, disbelieving public, vindictive authority, or betraying friends. His heart thumped heavily in his chest, almost painfully. He still hadn't forgiven Ron and Hermione completely, though his rage turned more towards Dumbledore upon hearing he had forbidden Harry from any knowledge while at Privet Drive. It hadn't helped when Fred had declared Dumbledore's arrival tonight with this mysterious exchange student. They had other things to worry about. Why was he ushering around some stranger when he should be looking for Voldemort? They needed to convince the Ministry, concoct battle plans and search parties to flush the creep out, not play babysitter to some foreigner. His fork clanked against his plate as he stabbed through a chunk of potato he hadn't eaten with a stormy expression. He failed to notice the concerned furtive glances several members sent his way as Mrs. Weasley bustled over, a tight smile on her face. "Finished dear?" she gestured to his abandoned plate and he nodded absently. Her eyes softened with concern as she pointed her wand at the dish before making her way back towards the kitchen, the assortment of plates, cups, and cutlery following behind her, Harry's floating into the mix.
A sudden crack echoed through the house and Remus left his steaming coffee as he hastily vacated his chair, wand drawn. Sirius jumped up to follow on his heels. The Order members turned to the students, attempting to shoo them up the stairs. Harry, stupor broken with the sudden flurry of movement, dodged grabbing hands, slipping through the barricade of adults and rushing after the two Marauders. Grasping the corner of the wall, he skidded to a halt inside the foyer hallway, watching as the two confronted a shadowed form lingering in the doorway, conversing in hushed whispers. Sirius, upon hearing the ragged breathing behind him from Harry's dash across the house, turned, lips quirking into a smile and motioned him over with a small wave of his hand. The raven-haired boy felt affection well in his chest for his godfather. Earlier against the other Order members, and even now, he was the only one set on helping Harry, keeping him informed, understanding his desperation to fight back. He made his way to the man's side, smiling softly as a strong arm was slung over his shoulders, and let his eyes roam over to greet the person in the door.
He stilled. His mouth went dry and seething anger resurrected in his gut, fire slipping back into his veins. Dumbledore stood stooped slightly, conversing with the ragged werewolf as the group slowly made their way back the way he came, towards the dining room and the rest of the house's inhabitants. He no longer felt the reassuring weight of the arm across his back, the comforting flow of voices of his parents' remaining friends, the excitement of seeing the man he admired, none of it reached him. Sparring a glance at the elderly man, he noticed that his sparkling blue eyes had yet to turn towards him, had yet to acknowledge him, and the fiery stream inside boiled his blood at the notion of being ignored. Too soon they were surrounded by a gaggle of people, consisting mainly of red-heads, and were ushered further into the room. Distantly, he heard Mrs. Weasley offer food, drinks, and snacks, while Mad-Eye seated himself next to the vibrantly blue robed man, rough voice too low to pick up words, joining Lupin's barrage. Faintly he felt the warm hand squeeze his shoulder fondly and glanced up into warm grey eyes, noting the silent question residing there, and nodding. The brow above warmed mercury crinkled slightly, but relented, warm hands and limbs sliding away, leaving a distinct chill in their wake and he thought desperately, momentarily, Will he too abandon me?, before banishing the small voice to the back of his mind, slinking unnoticed to a corner far from the center of action, far from the origin of his ire, far from Dumbledore.
The twins hovered nearby, exchanging excited whispers, and, he thought maybe, a galleon or two, before accosting Ginny with mischievous grins. With the sudden change in the young girl's face and, yes, he was pretty certain that was the golden flash of a galleon changing hands, his interest was piqued. Ambling over in a way he hoped was inconspicuous, he strained his ears to catch a strain of conversation, however, the two older boys were more than prepared. Flashing him a grin, George slung an arm around his shoulders from his left, pulling his head down into his side, with Fred's knuckles making a nest in his untamed hair from his right. "Now, mate, if you want in, you just gotta ask," one piped.
"We're always open to new victims, especially a sponsor and friend like you, Harry boy."
"Exactly."
Harry tugged on the cage of arms, "And what exactly is this bet about?" He hadn't forgotten the bets made last year during the tournament, and he didn't have a desire to be the object of them again this year.
The twins relinquished their hold, dragging him up to his full height, which was still considerably shorter than them, before rejoining Ginny in front of him. "What else mate? The new bloke!"
He blinked. He had momentarily forgotten the impending arrival in favor of his righteous anger against the headmaster for his summer of isolation. "Yea. Supposed to be coming soon, right?"
"Precisely."
"The bloke was hypothetically coming with old Dumbledore-"
"-but here sits our esteemed professor, not a tag-along in sight."
Ginny now spoke, glaring at her brothers, "And at the order meeting, they said he was to arrive tonight."
One of the twins grinned, "Poor sis is just miffed that she lost that part of the bet."
"Hey, I'm going to win the next one," she declared indignantly.
"Sure." Both spoke at the same time, patting her head before jumping out of arms reach of the irritated girl as she swung a fist half-heartedly where they had been.
Harry chuckled at the sibling squabble, vaguely wondering when they had time to set up a bet with all the chores assigned between their eavesdropping and dinner, then recalled Fred and George's new nasty habit of apparating everywhere in the house.
"In any case," the swings had stopped and the trio of Weasleys had calmed enough to gather around the messy haired boy again, "he should still arrive tonight."
"Just apparently not with professor Dumbledore."
"Care to wager on his mode of transportation?"
"Gin already lost the bet on whether he would show up with the headmaster, so that portion has already been settled. Sorry."
He snorted lightly, "Trust me, it's fine. I don't think I'll be betting anyways."
The twins looked at each other before shrugging, "Oh well, have it your way, mate."
Harry smiled as they sidled up to Ron on the other side of the table, in a considerably better mood than earlier, and turned, knowing the outcome of that particular venture as he saw Hermione stalking over, to the adult members of the group. A small portion of the room had been cleared away, free of all items and furniture, and the Order had assembled around it. With their attention turned inwards, he managed to sneak behind them, catching bits of conversation.
"Are you sure about this Albus?" Moody grumbled, "We don't know him, what he can do, or what he may be bringing."
The headmaster turned half-moon spectacles towards the ex-auror, "I'm sure Alastor. I've heard much of him from an old friend. And I'm quite elated to meet the boy at last."
McGonagall's lips pressed into a thin white line, "I must agree with Alastor this time, Albus. Bringing the boy straight to Grimmauld, to headquarters, without having ever met him is preposterous."
"Ah, come now Minerva," Sirius shook his head, shooting the transfiguration teacher a winning smile, "He's a boy, a kid. What harm could he do?"
The woman's nostrils flared as she glared at the man, "If I recall, you did quite a bit of damage as 'a kid' with your little Marauder scheme, Black."
Sirius chuckled, elbowing Remus in the ribs, "Yes, the good ol' days, eh Moony?"
The werewolf smiled wryly at the frustrated frown on his old head of house's face and the shite-eating grin of his friend before shaking his head and holding his hands up in surrender.
Looking around, Harry was almost tempted to question on the whereabouts of a certain absent potions professor, but decided he would rather not risk ruining the temporary peace of the evening. With his luck, as soon as he mentioned him, the grease ball would undoubtedly show his sallow face. So he bit his tongue, opting to listen to the comfortable banter.
Dumbledore cast a quick tempus before calling the group to attention. "Either way, our guest should be arriving soon."
Mad-Eye just grumbled and McGonagall sighed. Mrs. Weasley cast a concerned eye to the children who she hadn't been able to shoo upstairs while Mr. Weasley laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. Harry repressed the urge to force his way into the circle, glancing at the others and seeing that they had finally noticed the tension on the other half of the room. Fred, George, and Ginny were all watching with excited smiles, Ron nursing a nasty bump on his head from Hermione's ire, and said girl eyeing him as though if she removed her gaze for a millisecond, the freckled boy would disappear. A sudden yelp brought him back to the congregation behind him, spying a shock of vibrant blonde hair between shoulders, a smooth voice rambling, seemingly annoyed, in a language he couldn't understand.
Dumbledore stepped forward, hands held placatingly in front of him. "Welcome, Mr. Uzumaki," he chirped cheerily, watching the young boy stumble in the barren circle they had created, "I'm Professor Dumbledore."
"Damn it! What the hell was that?" Naruto swore as he rubbed his back, having landed abruptly on hard wooden floor. He heard a cheery voice next to him, turning his eyes to the bizarrely dressed man, dressed as in a real damn dress. He simply stared for a moment, his fingers twitching towards his pouch on his thigh when he heard his name. Now glaring at the strange group, he realized he was surrounded, and hopelessly lost. The weird old man spoke again, this time he heard a phrase he recognized – 'Dumbledore'. "Dumbledore?" The man above him nodded, pointing a knobby finger towards himself and repeating the name. Of course baa-chan had to find some weirdo. And I don't even understand a single thing they're saying! He pouted momentarily before rising to his feet and bowing slightly, pointing to himself, "Uzumaki Naruto."
This gained a chuckle from the man who nodded and Naruto felt stupid for some reason he didn't understand. "Oi, jiji, don't any of you speak Japanese?" The rest of the group simply stared at him oddly, a few looking uncomfortable and weary, jumpy as if they were about to draw a kunai although he didn't see any pouches, nor did they look physically trained at all. Still, he had no idea where he was and he was going to keep his promise to Tsunade-baa-chan and be careful. The man shook his head, drawing a stick from his sleeve and gesturing towards Naruto who had tensed at the movement before blinking blankly at the sight of the piece of wood.
"Ne, gramps, what the hell are you doing?"
He heard a little gasp, and looked over at the stern faced woman, looking appalled. He frowned. What? It wasn't like they could understand him. He had already figured that out from the strange gibberish the onlookers had exchanged. So what was the lady's problem? He huffed, crossing his arms.
"I was simply casting a translation charm, my boy."
His head whipped around to stare at the man, blue eyes twinkling crazily behind weird glasses. "Holy shit, you talked." Naruto gawked briefly, eyes wide.
The man laughed softly, "Yes, I did." He pocketed the stick in the sleeves of his dress and Naruto eyed it wearily. Something was weird about that thing, not that it seemed to be any weirder than the elderly man in a dress, but he was willing to overlook that for now. "I'm Albus Dumbledore. Tsunade informed me you would be coming."
He studied him, brow furrowed, "Hmmm, granny Tsunade said some Dumbledore would be at a safe house. I'm assuming you're the Dumbledore, so I'm supposed to trust you." He didn't notice the amused smirks and smiles of bemused exasperation working their way around the group before grinning widely. "Nice to meet you. I'm Naruto Uzumaki. I'm entrusting the success of this mission to you for the time being." He bowed fully this time before focusing on the others there. "Where is this place anyways?"
The old man's lips quirked upwards, eyes twinkling even more than before. "I suppose I'll have to say it again, won't I?" He chuckled quietly. "This is 12 Grimmauld Place, a safe house and headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, Mr. Uzumaki. You will be staying here with some other students until September, when you will join them at my school, Hogwarts, for the remaining year. Your Hokage has entrusted me with your safety until you return, and I look forward to your time here." He smiled softly again, "Welcome to England."
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