Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Harry Potter (or I would be very rich and would have done different things with the characters) and neither do I own Naruto.

Author's note: See? Here is a new chapter like I promised in Courage! And let me say, that Naruto was very uncooperative. I had to start this one-shot at least 2-3 times until it came out satisfactorily. I hope you like it SilverTwilight103. And it's… uh… kinda long-ish. For a 'drabble' at least.

Anyway, this takes place after the whole Pain invasion thingy, but is kind of strangely au-ish after that, because I found no point in canon to embed this story in.

Have fun reading and if you have a prompt you want me to write, just post it and the character in your comment and I'll do my best!

Fandom: Naruto/Harry Potter X-Over

Pairing: Naruto x Harry

Prompt: Affection (SilverTwilight103)

Rating: M

Warning: Spoilers, a bit for language maybe

It had not been love at first sight, or second, or even twentieth, but it had begun with one first glance.

Naruto had gone out to buy new kunai to replace the ones he had used and lost on his last mission. After the whole Pain invasion, which had made many people stop glaring at him, the blond had begun to actually look around – instead of running or shuffling through the streets with his head down - and seen shops he had never noticed before. One of them had been a small, gloomy-looking building with slightly peeling paint and a timeworn sign above the door. People went by like they did not notice the shop or were trying to ignore the run down house.

Naruto was intrigued.

The counter was manned by an old, white-bearded man who did not pay any attention to him, when the small bell above the door signaled his entrance. Disregard was better than open hostility, though, so the blond did not mind too much and just took a look around. The interior of the shop was stuffed full of various, sometimes odd things, which were covered in a coating of dust. After a last glance towards the man Naruto began to browse through the objects.

Dolls in lacy, frilly dresses – he had never seen any look like this before – were lined up on shelves next to working or broken old clocks, painted vases and a multitude of old tomes and scrolls. The floor was littered with tables, chairs and chests in all kinds of styles and one corner of the room contained a collection of paintings in broad frames.

And suddenly Naruto saw it.

A man-high mirror – surprisingly the only one - on the far side of the shop. The intricate frame was engraved with symbols he did not know and were possibly a part of a foreign language. He was not able to see the reflection, yet, because he was standing too far away, but it seemed to beckon him closer. The nosy blond weaved around the furniture in his way until he had reached his destination and promptly jumped back with wide eyes and a startled gasp; looking around frantically like he would be jumped from behind any second now. The clerk did not even look up.

The reflection showed a blond boy with a Konoha hitai'ate and a jumpsuit in black and orange – Naruto. It was not mirroring the reality, though. Next to said blond stood another boy about the same age and height as blond, but with an almost oppositional coloring. The hair was black where his own was fair, the eyes – equally as bright as his own – were a startling green and covered by glasses and even their skin color differed noticeably.

Their differences were not what had picked Naruto's attention, though. Much more startling and fascinating was the action taking place in the reflection – an unnatural phenomenon the blond was ignoring completely for the moment-, where Mirror-Naruto was currently placing a soft kiss on Mirror-Boy's forehead, which both of them followed up with happy smiles directed at each other.

Nobody had ever looked at him like that. Like he was the most important thing in the world...

Naruto did not quite know what to feel, or even think for that matter. Was this some kind of illusion made by a genjutsu? A prank being played on him by one of his friends - unlikely, because who would know he would be here now? And what about the things taking place in the mirror? He did not even know the guy and did not understand, why he wa- oh shi-

The scene had changed.

The innocuous peck had turned into a real kiss. A real kiss on the mouth and… was that his tongue? He… he… Mirror-Naruto was actually french-kissing that guy and apparently enjoying it immensely, while Real-Naruto was stuck somewhere between being absolutely horrified – because, hello? He was kissing a guy and it was not even an accident like with Sasuke years ago – and kind of fascinated. The fascination was not so simply explained away, but surprisingly stayed and grew, while the horror slowly receded.

He… wanted something like that. Not with this still unknown guy – or any, for that matter - per se. But he wanted the concept, someone who understood him, liked him for who he was, who he could talk to. He wanted the random, affectionate touches and hugs and… he did not want the loneliness. Nowadays he had friends - and the villagers did not hate him like in the past -, but all of them were slowly starting to pair up and he was, again, the one left out. Sure, Hinata had confessed to him, but Naruto was sure they would never click for being more than friends. And obviously Sakura was not interested in him like that either, even though he still tried to weasel dates out of her – which was now more of a recurring joke than the actual wish to date her. She felt more like a – very brutal – sister actually.

The scene had changed again.

Naruto had never seen the kitchen before. It was a clean one, but not clinically so. It was… cozy. And the blond swore those potted plants on the window sill were his. Mirror-Boy was standing at the stove, cooking, while Naruto's counterpart was draped all over his back, embracing the slender waist in front of him and trying to steal a bite out of the frying pan, which resulted in him getting slapped on the wrist by a spatula. Mirror-Naruto started to pout, but did not let go. Mirror-Boy meanwhile smiled at him indulgently and pecked his lips, before he instructed the blond to get plates, so they could eat.

After that the scene changed again, and again and aga-

"Hey, boy, out with you, I'm closing up for the day." Startled Naruto looked up and started to protest, that it was not even afternoon, yet, but quickly noticed the darkness outside. It could not be that late! He had been here for barely a few minutes! And now the clock above the counter told him it was seven in the evening. With a last glance towards the mirror the blond reluctantly left the shop for the day.

The next few days he came as often as his training sessions allowed and every time he left, the longing to look a bit longer, even for a minute more, became stronger. The week long mission was not quite torture, but the whole time he felt like he was missing something. It did not interfere with his mission, but it was like being hungry or more like being peckish and not having quite enough food on hand. Nobody seemed to notice his plight and Naruto never told anyone.

Three weeks after he had come back from his first mission since discovering the mirror things changed. He still saw the random tidbits of his 'daily life' with Mirror-Boy – surprisingly there had not been too intimate moments, yet – but this time he felt compelled to touch the glass. He had barely felt the surprisingly warm surface under his fingers, when Mirror-Boy turned around and actually locked eyes with him.

It was similar to looking into the mirror, except the scenes played out like he was an actual part of it and not just an observer. The scenes of a life not his own. Mirror-Boy's life. Harry's.

A waterfall of red hair, brilliantly emerald eyes, a pretty, fierce dead woman not unlike the beloved mother he had met for a too short moment in his mindscape.

Hate, indifference and pain without knowing the reasons of the people around them.

Utter loneliness while seeing the happy faces and loving families - just not for them.

Boy, freak, monster…

Naruto felt dizzy from the remembered and related heart-ache, when the flashes stopped. The blond tried to hold on to something, anything until he regained his composure, but stumbled right into several chairs and a small table, knocking them over in the process. This time the clerk did not ignore him. He appeared to be rather annoyed with the whole situation and did not want to hear any explanations.

"Buy the damn thing, or leave this shop alone, before you make even more of a mess, boy!" Naruto stared at him with big, blue, horrified eyes, the pain forgotten. There was no way he could leave Harry behind! He was no longer a symbol of what he wanted to have, but an actual person he could relate to, who he wanted to talk to and… touch. Something that would probably never happen, because it did not look like the raven was even part of this world, but he wanted to at least see what could be if he were!

The price of the mirror was not outrageously high, but he was not flush with money either, so serious saving had to be done, which meant less ramen – terrible thought - or finding people to pay for the noodle-y goodness. Also, well-paid missions were needed. A trip to Tsunade-baachan was next on his list.

He still did not mention the mirror to anyone, having become even more possessive of it. His friends were surprised about his apparent determination for a reason the blond refused to talk about, but did not seem to involve Sasuke for once. They let him be.

A most dreadful month later he was finally the proud owner of a two meter high, exotic and mysterious mirror, which was a bitch to carry around even over empty rooftops. The blond did not mind, too happy to see Harry again, this time at his own leisure.

During the next few months he became a bit of a recluse when out of missions or scheduled training sessions. His friends were too caught up in their own personal lives to really notice or care. That included Hinata, who had, surprisingly, found a new person to crush on, which actually seemed to be reciprocated this time.

From time to time Naruto was subjected to new flashes. Some were kind of nice and showed Harry's friends and a family of red-heads. Some were quaint and hard to comprehend like the energy called magic, which did things chakra would ever accomplish. Most of them were still bad, though, like Harry's very own 'snake bastard', the near-death experiences, the war. And, of course, the death of his godfather… The latter made him feel equally compelled to wipe Harry's tears away and to just cry as well.

One day, almost a year after having first laid eyes on the mirror and after a rather fucked up mission, he came home tired and desolate. Without looking at the reflection – he didn't want to see a potentially happy scene he never would experience himself in reality – he closed his eyes and leant his forehead against the warm glass.

"Y'know, I really wish you were here. I mean… you're probably not even real. A hallucination or… or… a late after affect of being exposed to the sharingan or something. I dunno why I can't even stop looking at this damn mirror, except I want you to be real and I know you would get me and not hate me, because of that thing inside of me, 'cos you had part of that bad guy stuck inside you… And… all that stuff I've seen, I want that, too. Even the cuddling… the very much not manly cuddling. I really, really want that… even more than being Hokage, I think."

Nothing happened and why should it? He was talking to a mirror after all, a mirror that showed him figments of his imagination and representations of his wishes, even though they were far too elaborate to have all sprung from his mind. A world full of magic? The whole life of another person?

It took a moment for Naruto to notice the fingers in his hair and the forehead against his own. His eyelids sprang open, when another hand curled around his biceps and gently pushed him back a few steps, while the body in front of him followed. He took in the emerald eyes and the gentle smile and then there was nothing on his mind except the pair of warm lips that descended upon his. He didn't even see the reflection that showed, for the first time, exactly what happened in the room.

It had to be a dream.

It was too good to be true.

But if it was, he never wanted to wake up again.