A/N: I haven't updated this story in a very long time, and to those of you who have enjoyed it so far, I apologize. I promise I won't let this story die, although it may be a month or so between updates in the future. Without any more from me, let's get back to the story: this time, Harry tries to convince Professor Sarutobi to teach him and his friends. Hiruzen will have to confront the pain of his past, and ask himself if he can bear to train another team.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling: the sun, the sky, and the castles of Scotland. Everything, that is, except that which belongs to Kishimoto.

Chapter 7: Memories, Mishaps, and a Mission

Getting Hermione to agree to Harry and Ron's proposal was like pulling teeth. She liked the idea of preparing for their Defense Against the Dark Arts final, but she didn't like the thought of asking Professor Sarutobi for extra help. It smacked of favoritism to her; like asking a Professor to help her cheat.

"That's not it at all, Hermione," Harry insisted, a little exasperated. "We can't train on our own; we wouldn't know what to do! Professor Sarutobi can give us tips, and correct our mistakes as we go along."

Ron, who was eager to put in his own two cents, tripped over his own words in his haste to speak over Hermione's objections. "It's not like studying, Hermione. We can't just read about how to fight in a book-" he broke off, and then added sarcastically, "oh right, I forgot. Never ask Hermione to do anything that doesn't happen in a library."

Harry rolled his eyes. In trying to be helpful, Ron was actually hurting their cause. Sure enough, Hermione drew herself up haughtily, and looked down her nose at the two of them.

"There's no call to be rude, Ronald," she said frostily. "I think it's great that you two are so interested in putting in extra effort for class, but there's more productive ways to do that than to badger Professor Sarutobi for lessons after hours."

"Come on, Hermione," Harry said, putting a hand on Ron's shoulder to keep him from bursting out angrily. "This isn't just classwork - it's more important than that. You remember what happened last year, don't you?"

Hermione looked like she wanted to argue, but in the end she just nodded.

"Well, Voldemort is still out there," Harry continued, ignoring Ron's flinch. "He's trying to come back, and there are Dark wizards who will help him. It's only logical to prepare ourselves as best we can, isn't it? Getting a good grade in Defense Against the Dark Arts would be nice, but what's really important is that we learn as much as possible about defending ourselves. Professor Sarutobi is the best person to do that."

"You make a good point, Harry," Hermione said grudgingly.

With his usual lack of tact, Ron completely missed the fact that Hermione was almost convinced, and decided to go with his trump card.

"We're doing it with or without you," he declared in a pompous tone. "But we're friends, so we want you with us. If you don't want to do it, though, you don't have to - we'll just be better at spellcasting than you."

Harry felt the urge to press his palm to his face. Ron and subtlety were like oil and water. Hermione went from almost convinced to outraged in the blink of an eye. "Oh yeah? Well, why don't you two just leave, then! I'll go to the library and practice spells from those books you hate so much!"

"Hold on, both of you," Harry said, making what he hoped were soothing gestures with his hands. "Let's slow down. Ron, don't be mean. We're a team - if Hermione doesn't want to do it, we won't either. But Hermione, please think about it, all right? I think it's a really good idea."

Hermione sighed, and tossed her frizzy hair over one shoulder. "I don't have to consider; I'll do it." She pointed her finger suddenly at Ron, who shrank back like it was a loaded gun. "But only because Harry asked nicely. You, on the other hand, can go jump in the lake!"

She whirled around and left the common room, stalking away proudly up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Ron was left standing there, nonplussed. "What'd I do?" he asked, scratching his head.

Harry could only shake his head. "Next time… don't help me. Please."

The next day, Harry, Ron and Hermione stayed late after their Defense class. They took extra time putting away their scrolls and quills, and waved Neville ahead when he asked if he should wait for them.

"We just need to ask Professor Sarutobi something," Harry answered. "We'll be back in the Common Room before dinner."

Harry felt a little bit bad about keeping their motives secret from Neville, but he promised himself that it wouldn't be for long. If Professor Sarutobi had enough time to teach them, maybe he could teach Neville as well. But even if he refused to give them extra lessons, he would definitely tell them how to start practicing on their own. Then Harry could include Neville in their group easily.

Professor Sarutobi noticed them lingering, and waited politely at his desk. When the last of the Gryffindors had left the classroom, Harry, Ron and Hermione approached the front of the room. They were a little nervous, but the Professor gave them a warm smile and motioned for them to come forward.

"Good afternoon, you three. Can I help you with anything?"

Both Ron and Hermione looked at Harry, who sighed. Apparently he had been elected spokesperson.

"Well," he began, trying to pick the right words, "Ron and I were thinking, after our detention the other day. We learned a lot from you, but it's obvious that we barely scratched the surface of magical combat. You're always telling us in class that we need to be prepared to face evil, no matter what form it might take. So we were hoping that, maybe, you could teach us."

Sarutobi looked at him over folded hands, his expression inscrutable. "Isn't that what I've been doing?"

"Yes," Harry said, ducking his head shyly, "but in class we mostly talk about magic. It seemed like there was a lot more to actually fighting, like…" Harry cast about in his mind for what he meant. The closest he came was: "like… tactics! Or something…"

"I see." For a moment, Professor Sarutobi seemed to age in front of them. His eyes, though focused on them, seemed to see past them, and Harry thought he saw a glimpse of immeasurable pain. "So what you're asking me is not to teach you, but to train you. As your sensei."

"Yes!" Ron cried out eagerly. "As our sen… our what, exactly?"

"Sensei. Literallly, it means teacher. But in my village, it also implies a binding responsibility. A warrior becomes a sensei when he or she agrees to take on a small number of students and train them exclusively. Such a relationship is not one to be taken lightly. If I were to become your sensei, I would be responsible for your every action, for your very lives, until you became warriors in your own right. But that path is filled with danger, and there is no turning back. You would belong to me, heart and soul, until I thought you were ready. The only way out is death, which is a sadly common end for those who share my way of life."

By this time, the three friends' eyes were as round as dinner plates. "Blimey," Ron breathed. "I thought we were talking about a few extra lessons a week, or something."

Harry was experiencing a confusing whirl of thoughts and emotions. To be sure, he hadn't expected the Professor to treat their request so seriously. But somehow, now that he understood what training, really training, with Professor Sarutobi would mean, he was even more determined to forge ahead. Here was a chance to do something extraordinary and important. Harry knew that evil was real, and that it was waiting. Wizards like Professor Sarutobi and Dumbledore could fight it head-on. Harry had only hope and determination - well, that and some of the best friends that anyone could ask for. But with Professor Sarutobi's help, Harry wouldn't have to rely on others to save him. He could help protect them, too.

"Sir," Harry began, "we didn't mean to offend you by asking - we had no idea how important this kind of training is to your village. But if you are willing to train us - to become our sensei - we would try our best to be worthy. Right, Ron? Hermione?"

Ron gulped, but nodded gamely. Hermione was a little more hesitant, but followed suit. Professor Sarutobi looked away from them, and took out a small picture from a drawer in his desk. He stared at it for a long second, and seemed to come to a decision.

"A long time ago, I made a vow," he said, his voice sad and somber. "I swore that I would never train another team."

Harry's heart sank, and he prepared to accept the refusal graciously.

"However," Sarutobi continued, and Harry's stomach seemed to leap into his throat, "time changes everything, and ignorant is he who refuses to change with time. If I thought it was the right thing to do, I would become a sensei once more."

A big smile spread across Ron's face, but disappeared faster than a mouse down Hedwig's gullet when Professor Sarutobi held up his hand, frowning sternly. "If, I said. I told you before, this decision is not one to make lightly. If you want me to train you, you must convince me that you are worthy of my time."

"How do we do that?" Harry asked respectfully.

Sarutobi spread his hands wide, smiling gently. "As this is a school, what could be more appropriate than a test?"

Harry almost laughed, seeing the spark that lit up in Hermione's eyes when she heard the word.

"Yes, Miss Granger," Sarutobi laughed, "I thought that might interest you. However, my idea of a test is rather different from my colleagues'. I do not intend to test your knowledge, but rather your skill, teamwork, ingenuity, and last but not least… your agility."

Agility? Harry thought, a little puzzled. That was mysterious, and a little ominous…

"This is your test," Professor Sarutobi declared, gesturing grandiosely and showing a surprising flair for the dramatic. "You have forty-eight hours in which to locate the feline known as Mrs. Norris, retrieve her, and bring her to me. You may use any means necessary to accomplish this task, with the exception of murder. However, if the caretaker Argus Filch discovers your plan, it will result in automatic failure. Do you understand?"

"Let me get this straight," Ron said weakly. "You want us to bring you Filch's cat?"

"That is correct, Mr. Weasley. Unless you don't consider yourself equal to the task. In that case, we can all go about our business as before."

"No, no, we can do it!" Harry insisted. Hermione was silent - the thought of how many rules they would have to break had rendered her momentarily mute.

"Well then," the Professor said, regarding them serenely. "I think that will be all. Your time begins… now. Good luck!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione walked out of his office in a daze. "Did that really just happen?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded, though he could scarcely believe it himself. Still, the Professor had given them a test, and everything was riding on their abducting Mrs. Norris before their two days ran out.

"Let's go," he said, trying to instill his words with courage and a sense of urgency. "We've got a cat to catch."

oOoOo

After the three children had left, Sarutobi remained at his desk for a long time. On his desk was the picture he had taken out before, and it drew his eyes like a magnet. Three faces stared back at him - faces from the past. There was Jiraiya, the quintessential troublemaker, sticking up two fingers behind Tsunade's head. Sarutobi still remembered that moment: after the photo had been taken, Tsunade had turned around and clouted Jiraiya so hard that he had flown the full length of the training field. But during the moment captured by the picture, she was smiling like any other sweet-spirited girl. And next to the two of them, also smiling, was Orochimaru.

Sarutobi's fists clenched in his lap. It was unspeakably horrifying to see the innocent face of his former student, knowing how he would change. Looking at the picture raised questions that he didn't want to answer, that no longer even mattered, but were impossible to ignore. Sarutobi wondered whether even then, in the mind of that innocent-seeming boy, the seeds of evil and madness had already taken root.

But Sarutobi had more to think about than the ghosts and regrets of the past. He had more pressing problems, in the form of a trio of twelve-year-olds who wanted him as a sensei.

It was strange, the tricks time played on the mind. When Harry had asked Hiruzen to train him, Hiruzen could have sworn he was looking at Minato. The hair was different, of course. But they both had the same serious expression, and the same earnest desire to protect the people around them.

After the initial shock of such a request, Sarutobi had reluctantly accepted fate. He was going to train another squad. Perhaps that was even why he was here - his purpose in this universe. He would prepare the Boy Who Lived and his friends, so that when the inevitable showdown with Voldemort occurred, they would be ready. Hiruzen wondered whether Dumbledore would approve of his decision. It was curious, really, why Dumbledore hadn't begun such a course of action himself. However, the decision whether to take a genin team (not genin, wizards, Hiruzen reminded himself sternly) was his alone. It had nothing to do with Dumbledore, and everything to do with whether those three children were the right ones to teach.

The Professor realized he was getting ahead of himself. After all, they had yet to pass his test.

Hiruzen chuckled a little bit at his own inside joke. On a whim, he had decided to recreate the time-honored D-rank mission of retrieving the daimyo's wife's cat. The second-year Gryffindors might not actually be genin, but Sarutobi would be damned if he dropped his standards just because these children had not been raised in a military culture. They would perform to the level that he expected from genin, or they would find another sensei. Assigning them that mission, even if he called it a test, made Hiruzen miss Konoha even more fiercely. He would have given his right arm to see Naruto come running through the hallways, tearing up the place in an effort to catch the elusive Tora.

Hiruzen did have the slightest feeling, however, that he might have asked the Gryffindors to bite off more than they could chew. Not even Tora, the nastiest feline in Konoha, had been protected by a figure as imposing as Argus Filch.

Now that he thought about it, Hiruzen realized that he should take a few precautions. He made a series of hand seals, focusing his chakra and then releasing it in a controlled burst. "Shadow Clone jutsu!"

A clone popped into existence, and waited for orders. "Follow young Mr. Potter and his friends, please," Hiruzen told the clone. "I hope they will prove equal to this task, but you should be on hand in case of any accidents. I'll expect a full report in forty-eight hours."

His clone disappeared with a flash of light, off in search of the aspiring cat burglars.

"The game begins, youngsters," Hiruzen said with a grin. "It's your move now."

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter's so short, but it's late and I thought I reached a good stopping point. The next chapter will be much longer, with a few more laughs (hopefully) and some action.