Nothing to do but think and write

and study too but that just bites

so here I am writing some more

keep reading, there's more in store!

Disclaimer : I don't own Harry Potter...or Naruto...but for some strange reason, I don't...really...mind...

XXX

The train rolled out of the station with a great deal of fanfare. There was an incredible amount of noise, partly due to the old school steam engine, and partly due to all the painful separations involving parent and child. It was almost painful to watch. Sometimes, Harry did wonder about his parents. He wondered if he would have turned any different if he did in fact have living loving parents who spoiled him rotten and tried to pawn him off to bouts of childishness. And the conclusion, every time was yes, he would have become normal. That probably meant he would have become an average wizard, somebody not well known for giving a rising dark lord an out of body experience, somebody who was not stuck with the label orphan,somebody who did not have to live with accursed relatives who possessed the single minded goal of breaking him, and came damn close to it a few times too.

No, he was far better off this way, now that he had the ability to defend himself and the ability to protect whoever he found worth caring for. He was not sure if his parents died in battle with the obviously present superior foe, even if the books vehemently said it. If the only people there were dead, or too young to remember, how did they arrive at the version that, if what he saw of his clones experience(from far far away...) was anything to go by, was embraced wholeheartedly by almost an entire subculture of British society? He was a living legend with absolutely no evidence pointing to how he got there.

As to his parents, merely the order of deaths(parents, then evil wizard) suggested that they had either tried to fight(and fallen) or tried to beg(and were slaughtered) before the dark lord, whose name seemed to have eluded the pen(or should he say quill now?) of multiple authors, had turned to the baby and tried to kill him, with a spell that had backfired...somehow. The books weren't very clear on that part either.

And perhaps that was the main reason he thought the magical world was full of idiots. While even he understood the use of tools(better than most really) to complete a job, why would somebody need too use a spell, that if he understood correctly, was not only difficult to cast, but required you to actively hate your target to a sufficient degree, which when you thought about it, only drove home that this dark lord character was evil...really, who else could hate a cute baby(Harry had no doubt he was a cute baby) sufficiently like that enough to kill him? There were so many ways of killing a helpless opponent, like stabbing, strangling, clubbing, decapitating, eviscerating, and of course the spin offs, like crushing, hanging, poisoning, throwing from a cliff, etc that were slight less hands on(Harry wondered if he wasn't a bit mental here...he was talking about killing himself here). And of all these options, that were more efficient(if more messy), he went ahead and did this. Fat lot of good it did him too.

Harry shook his head and went to sleep, producing a shadow clone in the meantime. The clone already knew what to do, so he cloaked himself in genjutsu and planted himself on the roof. It was his job to take care of the original when he was vulnerable like this. It was probably a good thing Harry had a lot of practice sitting still and doing exactly the sort of things he shoved at his clones. Otherwise his clone may have been quite peeved to find his boss pawning off responsibility in this manner. It was an unwritten rule of the awesomeness that was the shadow clone: don't tell it to do anything you couldn't or wouldn't do. They are after all as devious as they their creators, perhaps more so, considering they knew very well that once dispelled, they wouldn't be able to get in trouble for their actions. This was the exact reason that Naruto's clones went on suicidal runs after all. They were by definition immortal, if in a slightly different manner than most might think.

In a very vague manner, shadow clones mimicked the whole god/reincarnation ideal – a part of you was sent of in a body that after its lifetime returned to you, only to be sent off again some other time. It was also the reason that shadow clones received personality. They were in a sense pieces of the jutsu user that were slowly growing independent of him, personality wise - they shared memory after all. Of course, the central Harry was Harry, but the peripheral parts of his brain, from where spawned the minds of clones, were slowly giving him the ultimate version of MPD, not that he knew it either, consciously at least. And it wouldn't have mattered even if it did. The havoc a jutsu wrought...

XXX

In a different part of the train, Tetsuya the eleven year old shinobi sat perfectly still. There was something inside him that was restless, and nothing he did helped. Meditation, as annoying as it was hadn't really been any use at all. So he was trying another exercise that was supposed to detect the magical energies around him. It was said that Hayate, his commander, the greatest living master of this art could tell the very elemental makeup of anything in his vicinity. So he was here trying to get his focus to a level greater than what he considered mere meditation. Though, come to think of it, when your eleven, merely sitting still ought to be beyond the scope of your ability. As of now, he simply tried to focus on whatever he could. He was on a magical train, filled with magical people and loaded with spells and enchantments. And he had enough awareness of that from the fact that the mere amount of magical energy that saturated the compartment was enough to get his somewhat insensitive magical detection sense into overdrive. He hoped he wouldn't have to fight here. There was an excellent chance that most of his combat ability was nullified because he was disoriented. And there are no second chances in a real fight.

But thankfully he didn't have to worry about that right now. So he concentrated on emptying his mind till he could sense nothing but magic...and failed miserably. A few more attempts later and the intrepid infiltrator was no closer to achieving anything than he was two months ago. "It seems I will have to find another way of occupying myself...I wish Taka were here. He could at least tell me what I'm doing wrong!"

So, sighing to himself, he left the compartment. He would have to find some first ears to socialize with; it was part of his mission after all. Perhaps the young Malfoy? Or even the Potter, though that one would have to be extremely low key. Potter was an important piece in the British puzzle, or so the elder Malfoy was said to have reported. And he was too high key to associate with without compromising his off the radar status. It was bad enough he had been introduced as family of the Japanese seeker. He could only imagine the headaches to come over a game he didn't play, disliked mildly, and had no practical knowledge off. And Malfoy was an even bigger headache. Lucius had hinted that Tetsuya knew Draco. Yes, it seemed the perfect way to be unnoticed was apparently to be a casual acquaintance to the heir most prominent pureblood bloodline in the country.

Thankfully for him though, there were no horribly fanatic quidditch fans who were connected enough to know that he was the Japanese national seekers "nephew", or pureblood suck-ups out to grab attention. He shook himself. Maybe it was merely too much paranoia? (irrespective of what his superiors would have said about that...) he needed to distract himself, fast.

Completely by coincidence, Tetsuya found himself right outside the compartment holding Harry Potter. There seemed to be a lot of traffic and the noises were literally crushing his hearing. He had subconsciously enhanced his hearing and was paying for it. But he was very curious about the boy they called the Boy-who-lived.

There were few mysteries that could not be explained away in the magical world. At least by the Chinese sorcerers. They had an answer to everything. And when all you really did in your free time was tinker, the sheer volume of discoveries those people made was mind blowing. He could only imagine the lengths the British department of mysteries would go to to get the knowledge the average sorcerer could spout in their sleep. So it was quite shocking to every single ninja there was, who bothered with such things, to learn that nobody knew exactly how the Voldemort character had died. The Chinese were stumped. There was no theoretical precedent. There was no observational evidence to back any of the wildly outlandish theories the ignorant had spread. It would have been less of a headache if that night had found Dumbledore and Voldemort dancing the waltz in front of Nelsons Column in pink tutus. There was something to be said about an the oddity of an event if it left the immortal emperor in his forbidden city scratching his head.

That was not to say there was nothing known about what happened. A few days later, Dumbledore had vaguely mentioned a sacrificial protection of sorts during an interview. That had been enough for them to figure out what may have happened. But it did raise more questions, like what had happened to the self proclaimed dark lords body? And wasn't he supposed to have done all sorts of self mutilating dark arts rituals to grant himself immortality? Or at the very least let him be invincible till his soul "timed out"? It was assumed that the complications were indeed due to the sacrificial magic reacting badly to the potent dark arts rituals that Voldemort had done, something about overenthusiastic spells apparently.

But it in no way reduced the oddity that was Harry Potter. There was no doubt in anyone's mind(again,that were actually interested in weird stuff out west) that the incident had left its mark on him. There was also no doubt that the scar that had been hyped up so much was an interesting magical artifact. Tetsuya wondered if he could get a chance to examine it. He smirked. At the rate his thoughts were going he would end up bosom buddies with somebody just to look up a stupid scar. Oh well, there was only one thing left to do.

"Hi! I'm Tetsuya Watanabe! I'm new here, its nice to meet you!"

XXX

Harry Potter, at the moment a pissed off shadow clone, did a double take. This was the ninja that Takeda wanted to send to Hogwarts. Why was he here? And why was he trying to talk to him? Weren't infiltrations supposed to be low key, invincible actions that cast no scrutiny on the infiltrator? How was somebody supposed to do that by associating with an extremely well known, and somewhat revered child hero who was going to be watched (and probably stalked)?

But he had to give it to the 'ninja' he was facing. The way he had done this was flawless. He had practically twirled between three wide eyed and dazed 'fans' and managed to do it without getting a crease on his robes. Then he had smiled disarmingly and subtly shifted his body into a more relaxed and open stance, one that he himself had used to set other people at ease. Then he had introduced himself with a well practiced accent, one that said that he wasn't from here, but also said that he knew the language well enough to fit in and knew his way around. This guy really was good. Now if only he showed some tact, like meeting him in a not so crowded hallway after class for example. On the other hand, he supposed that if the original had not purposely created and dispersed another clone, "Harry" , as a clone would have had no idea that this guy was a ninja. And this approach would have only seemed to complement the 'ordinariness' the infiltrator was trying to project. Amazing really what training could accomplish. Harry took the effort to stamp out the tendrils of jealousy that threatened to rear its ugly head. He would persevere without formal training, as he had done so far.

On the other hand though, there was something about the name...and he got it. Watanabe, quidditch, the connection could not have been more apparent. But then, he actually knew something about Japanese names and so knew that a name like Watanabe was relatively quite common in Japan. On the other hand, considering that Japan was supposed to have a isolationist wizarding community...

"Watanabe...Watanabe...where have I heard that before?"

For a second, Tetsuya panicked. The knowing gleam in Potter's eyes looked disturbingly similar to the one that the unknown ninja had sported when talking to him and Takeda. Then he calmed himself, remembering quite logically that Potter was not the mysterious man, didn't know about his mission and was merely trying to pry without being obvious. He internally smirked at the amateurish ploy. Whatever Potter was, the English boys attempt to prompt him to add something "helpfully" was-

"AHA!"

And then Potter's by now disturbingly gleaming eyes fell on him. Tetsuya suddenly knew that Potter was no ordinary child, that he had immense power and knew all of poor Tetsuya's secrets. And then the feeling, menacing and disturbing as it was, was completely wiped out by what happened next.

Harry jumped up, stood in a ridiculously straight manner(it was after all the closest he could bring himself to a Gai/Lee pose) and pointed at the somewhat sweaty Tetsuya and said, "Your related to the Japanese national Seeker! You must know all the cool moves!" and then he slumped abruptly, as if he was a balloon that had popped. And then as if by design, every single pair of eyeballs in the room, and there were more than a few, all swung onto the somewhat miffed infiltrator. Harry took the time to grin savagely.

Not that anybody noticed. Every single pair of eyes were now riveted on the Japanese boy, who was sweating profusely, feeling a good deal naked, a bit scared and definitely cornered. In fact the distraction was so complete that not a single soul noticed when Harry potter disappeared into the barest traces of smoke. Not that it mattered to Tetsuya, who at the moment was trying (and failing) to make up answers to questions he really didn't know the answer to, or any idea about. What the hell was a wonky feint, or a sloth roll something? And how in kami's name would he know what kind of broom polish the Japanese national team used? And why was he still standing here?

XXX

A sleeping Harry was suddenly woken up by the fact that the clone who was acting as himself(why did that sound weird the more he thought of it?) was now not in existence any more. He sighed and winced, realizing that he would now be himself for the rest of the trip. He decided to simply fall asleep, consequences be damned. He was a growing boy dammit! Though he did add a couple more clones to keep him safe. He also mentally thanked the gods that his shadow clones lasted even when he slept. Though the fact that they woke him when dispelled was a welcome addition, at least until the sound of a mouse tiptoeing would wake him up.

When he next woke up, he noticed that a girl was shaking him awake. He wondered, annoyed, why his clones had not reacted. As if on cue, a clone who was perched on the seat opposite, dispersed invisibly, letting him know that she was let through because she had come in and tried to call him, resorting to physically shaking him when that had failed. He also noticed with satisfaction that three clones, invisible as they were, were quite ready to act out in his defense. The paranoia was not really for now though. He was trying to establish a system to keep him safe, for the days when his secret was spilled and people reacted to the unknown and possibly powerful – by assassinating him.

However this for now he was safe and the girl was merely another stranger trying to be nice, probably by waking him up in time for his arrival. So in the half second that these thought rumbled through his head, he slowly began to "wake up".

"Ugh...five more minutes..."

Hermione Granger, first year unsorted student of Hogwarts, chuckled. She had just been passing through, when she spotted a lone sleeping figure in a cabin. She was on her way to inform her new friend Neville Longbottom that the train was going to reach its destination soon, when she spotted him. She paused momentarily, wondering if she should go through, when she shrugged and figured trying to help couldn't hurt. As she pushed the door open, for just a second she faltered, as if somebody was looking at her but shrugged it off and called the figure out.

When a simple call didn't wake him up ('well, he is asleep...') she shook the lying figures shoulder, rather vigorously. And then the boys words brought up a smile. 'A first year, like me' she thought, wondering why he was alone. None of the first years she saw till now were alone. Was he purposely staying away from meeting people? Was he shy? Or did he have a chip on his shoulder? She had seen both kinds of people, and being a bookworm(and proud of it, mostly) she had seen both kinds of people. Something about him seemed quite innocent though, and she felt compelled to do more than mere tell him that they would arrive soon, like introduce herself, or strike up conversation, or make sure he stayed awake. There was something familiar about that face, something she had read not too far back.

"Um, sorry to wake you, but the train is going to get there soon, I've asked the conductor...and you really need to change and get ready"

The boy yawned, stretched a bit and then proceeded to nod sleepily. Hermione hesitated for a second, wondering, for an instant, why she felt compelled to wake him up further and get far far away, all at the same time. But then, she had no idea of the low amounts of killing intent oozing from the ceiling. She brought her hand up slightly, as if to shake him some more, but let it drop. Satisfied that the boy was going to wake up, she swiftly left for the rear, where her new friend was. She could always just meet him later, after classes had started.

A voice echoed through the train, "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately"

Hermione shrugged, as if to point out that this was what she was talking about. She got up and left, though not before throwing one last hesitant look behind. As she walked away though, Harry heard her murmur that she was sure she had read about him.

XXX

As soon as she left, Harry bolted awake. There was not much left to do now, but he intended to be ready. A clone that had gone exploring had dispelled while he was 'waking up'. There were apparently many rumors surrounding the sorting. While he was pretty sure that fighting a dragon was not something the mysterious Sarutobi-ish headmaster was going to subject wet behind the ears first years to, he was well aware that the magical world was far too unpredictable for his tastes. For all he knew, they could have been reading peoples mind to sort them. With magic, anything was possible. And something like that would be very very bad – even if these days he practiced 'thinking' in Japanese as a matter of norm.

Of the many things he had planned on, there were two things he did not want, with regards to sorting. First of all, he did not, under any circumstances want to be a Gryffindor. It was a simple matter of principle. The 'light' side or the 'good' side or whatever the name of Dumbledore's faction may be, they were primarily rooted in Gryffindor and its ideals by not getting into the lions pack, he would be distancing himself from whatever plans Dumbledore would no doubt have cooked up to portray him as the next coming of Godric Gryffindor. It was bad enough that the 'incident' ten years ago had already cemented his image as a savior of sorts. Which he was not. And no matter how much he wanted to appear part of the crowd, being openly part of a section or faction known to be unthinking idiots did not appeal to him. It was just plain wrong.

Slytherin was even more out of the question. For one thing, the snake theme was too reminiscent of Orochimaru for his liking. And the dark lord was a Slytherin, which definitely ruled it out. If he landed there, the chance that somebody might suddenly peg him as the next dark lord was too great. And from what he had seen till now, the wizarding world had just the right number of idiots for it to work. And no matter how much he identified with Naruto, there was no way he was going to purposely set up an entire society, one that he knew he would have to deal with regularly, to hate and fear him.

That left either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. Truth be told, he didn't mind either one. On one side, Hufflepuff offered him the opportunity to keep an eye out for the foreign ninja who was already out there. On the other hand, Ravenclaw would let him freely engage in all sorts of research that he would otherwise be under scrutiny for doing. If he didn't have to genjutsu a library, why not?

He shrugged and began to change, making sure that his new robes had their storage seals in the right places. Using one for his new sword had been rather pointless at first when he realized that his quick-draw seal was on the inside of his shirt. That had been a particularly annoying revelation.

XXX

The train stopped and its passengers hurriedly emptied onto the dark and tiny platform. The scottish air seemed particularly cold and nobody seemed to be have the inclination to stick around more than absolutely necessary. There was a little confusion when the first years were herded away from the carriages, but Harry wasn't paying attention at the time. He merely followed the heavily accented cry of "Firs' years! Firs' years!" He managed to completely miss the sight of Hagrid tearing up when the half giant saw him. The nervous bunch of first years timidly followed the half giant(not that he knew that particular detail of course) down a steep and narrow path. The darkness and the menacing looking trees on either side almost made him snort at the absurdity of it all.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here"

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The castle was quite impressive, standing tall, a vast structure perched atop a mountain on the other side of a great black lake, with many turrets and towers

Harry had to admit the castle was impressive, though he did comment that unless they had some really good magical defenses, it was not the best place to survive a siege. Then again, with magic, it should be possible to create an impenetrable fortress. But the castle did seem to have some hidden power. The sheer amount of magic he could sense around him was proof of that. The fact that he had not trained to sense magic, yet could sense something at all, even beyond his line of sight was proof of that. If nothing else, the old man had his base. A very majestic and spooky looking base at that. Filled with innocent civilians that would end up hostages in any battle. What a way to create a headache.

Hagrid shooed them all to a fleet of boats on the lake and once all were settled, he shouted "FORWARD!" and they were off.

Harry was ignored when he managed to be shuttled to a boat. Harry, had just as he got on, taken off his plain glasses and covered his scar. The other three on the boat did not recognize and pester him. Harry spent the time contemplating his actions and plans. He also occasionally glanced at the castle that was now towering over them.

XXX

In another boat, Takeda and Draco sat quietly with Crabbe and Goyle. There was a tense silence in the air, disturbing the pristine calmness of the boat as it glided slowly towards the castle. Draco was the first to speak, albeit in a low voice.

"You are Tetsuya?"

The ninja stretched and cracked his knuckles.

"Yes I am... Draco-kun. I assume your father told you about what is expected from you?"

The sneer in his voice could not have been more apparent. Even the somewhat touched in the head minion twins growled at the tone. Draco however raised his hand, motioning them to stop. There was no sense antagonizing power. Tetsuya looked rather amused at this theatrical display of subservience.

Draco on the other hand was on an entirely different plane of thought. He had heard things from his father. He knew this was a boy who had killed far more powerful magical entities than his father could dream to be. He knew that with one flick of a blade, his life, and probably the lives of everyone in the castle would be forfeit, because a child willed it. At this very moment, he had some inkling of what it was like for his father to be in the dark lords presence. His father had said that this child was a warrior, an incredible engine of devastation, one that it would not be in the Malfoys interest to alienate, insult or antagonize. This whole train of thought was confirmed in one fraction of a second in which Malfoy peeked at the other boy to see him watching the three purebloods out of the corner of his slit eyes with what could be best described as amused disinterest.

So, as meekly as was possible for a Malfoy, he lowered his head and muttered his acquiescence, knowing instinctively that the owner of the oriental face would hear. And he was right of course. But at the same time, he also gritted his teeth and snarled at this foreigner. No matter what this mercenary thought, he would remain here only so long as the Malfoys wished it. Draco Malfoy would prove himself to his father and eliminate this interloper all at the same time. If nothing else, Malfoys were a patient lot, and as his father had taught him, he would wait, plan and maneuver, till he struck like the snake he was. Head still lowered, Draco smiled.

XXX

The short journey ended when they pulled up at a small harbor that was...underneath the castle?

After they got out of the boats, they went the small distance up to the grounds and the front door, where their giant of a guide knocked on the front doors, thrice.

The doors were opened by the prim and proper figure of Professor Minerva McGonogall. Her piercing eyes roved through the ranks of scared children with no small amount of purpose, pausing an instant on the figure of Harry himself before her eyes moved on to cover everyone else.

She exchanged a greeting with Hagrid before opening the doors fully and waving them in. there was no mistake this time. This place screamed middle ages. Harry noted that the walls were rough enough that he wouldn't need chakra to clamber around.

McGonogall turned around and gave a short speech, about the houses mostly. She took one last glance at everyone then turned and left. Whispers broke out in a furious deluge. Harry was tempted to speak up and reassure someone that dragons were never going to be a sorting method. Then again, he just simply observed everyone, noting who was scared and who wasn't, the latter of which would be ones to watch out for, because they were informed beforehand, and here that could mean any number of things.

And then people began to scream. Harry resisted the urge to apply his training on what were essentially incorporeal beings. He let them go and scare people, making sure not to miss the reactions of the ghosts themselves, although their conversations seemed a bit disjointed. They were dead people from an even more ancient age after all.

And then McGonogall returned and the spell was broken. Harry was startled when his focused hearing picked up Tetsuya muttering in indistinct Japanese. But he put it out of his mind and followed the professor into the great hall.

XXX

The sorting was quite boring. They put on the hat, and it blurted its choice. Somehow, after the hype of the lake and the ghosts, he was half expecting to need to break out a few clones, a few blades and a few jutsu, which would have been quite the sight in the confined semi ventilated room. But alas, his slowly slipping control was yet again successfully reigned in and he quietly set about matching names to faces.

And then came the inevitable, "Potter, Harry!"

The hush that fell just had to be rehearsed. So somewhat nervously walk, while wondering exactly how the hat sorted people, he sat down and let the brim cover his head.

As soon as he put the hat on though, he knew this sorting was going to be different.

"You are a most ...curious individual..."

The hats almost ethereal voice floated through his mind. Harry was not totally shocked. He had already considered mind reading or telepathy in some forms as a possible form of magic. But still, to hear that voice that seemed deep in thought and very different from the one that sang the song earlier was quite strange. Harry briefly considered the possibility that he would have to assassinate the mind-reading talking hat. And he did it fully knowing that the hat knew he was thinking of it, while ignoring the part of his brain that claimed that he was over reacting. Assassinate a hat indeed.

"You really wish to assassinate me? ...Consume me in fire? Shred my tattered form with wind? ...Why would you do this, young Harry Potter?"

Why did everything magical have to be medieval as well? Two could play at that.

"Because you have seen my secrets. And you know that I cannot let that fact remain..."

He heard the hat chuckle. There was something disconcerting about it. And it had nothing to do with the fact that it was a mind-reading talking hat doing it, in his mind.

"Fear not young shinobi... for that is what you call yourself, yes? I have no means of relaying the nuggets I find within the heads of my wearers. I am bound by the very magics that created me to hold your secrets till eternity. The founding four themselves were incapable of ripping that knowledge from me. My very creation is such that I would be destroyed before I could reveal a thought from you."

Even as the pauses grew shorter, Harry mentally nodded when he worked out that essentially what the hat said was that it couldn't speak, but resolved that if ever his secret was revealed, he'd send an exploding clone after the hat. Obviously, the talking hat conveniently ignored the threat he was quite clearly broadcasting.

"Besides, I can only hear...and see your conscious thoughts. I cannot access memories...I am no legilemens..."

Harry stirred a bit, unnoticeable to all, except Tetsuya, who was merely wondering why Harry was taking so damn long. Everything he knew so far said that he would end up in Gryffindor, no questions asked. He was the bloody boy-who-lived, as he had been unwittingly reminded, so many times. He too shifted, an unseen twitch betraying his interest.

Harry resolved to look into that word. There was no doubt knowledge that was there for the taking if he took the time to look it up. Besides, a thousand year old talking hat had to be good for something, assuming he ever got sorted.

"So you say. However, if you really can read minds, you have no doubt found a measure of the steps I am prepared to take to keep my secrets. What will you do, my dear talkative hat? Are you ready to die, or at least...cease to exist?"

The hat laughed. It did not get less creepy the more it did that.

"Fine, perhaps this will convince you. While I cannot reveal the thoughts of those I sort, I am under no obligation to keep the secrets I hear with my ears, ...and yes I have ears, a mouth too. I sang after all!"

Harry mentally sighed. This was simply not working according to any of the bizarre expectations he had carried. And what was the talking hat going to tell him anyway?

"Dumbledore wants you in Gryffindor. As does surprisingly, Professor Snape. Professor McGonogall does not want you in her house, while the other teachers really don't care at all. By rights I ought to sort you to Gryffindor, but even I can tell that's a bad idea, even if you really are Gryffindor's blood"

Harry was mentally cataloging the 'facts' the hat was reeling off when he suddenly felt like he had been hit on the head. "Eh What?"

"You heard me, you are Godric's heir. The last living direct descendant of the line of Gryffindor himself. The castle, which really is somewhat intelligent by the way, recognized you as such the moment you entered it. A very minor thing, considering the rests of the wards that are here. And at any rate, while this would normally ensure that you would be sorted there immediately, there is a problem with that. You don't belong in Gryffindor."

Harry mentally nodded. There was no way he was going to the house that strategy and tactics forgot. The mere idea was more frightening than having to lose a limb. The latter he could repair, eventually

"So where to then?"

"Lets see, first, let me tell you that I don't really sort children into Gryffindor because they tend to mindlessly charge into situations or Slytherin because they are cunning. Popular misconception, really. My condition for Slytherin is ambition, plain and simple, though being a pureblood usually get you in by definition. Ravens must have thirst for knowledge. Lions must have that spark of..."courage under fire"...as you say. Hufflepuff is actually where everyone else goes...because people without overwhelming urges to do ' stuff ' like the other houses are the ones who can work together to achieve greatness"

Harry was halfway back to kill-the-hat thought so he had no recourse but to react.

"Yes, of course, but just sort me already! My rear has fallen asleep, and if you don't finish up soon, I'll shred-"

By this point the hat seemed to finally get it and said, "You who have such an interesting mind...must go to" and then aloud, "RAVENCLAW!"

Harry let out a sigh of relief and went to the said table, grumbling all the way. Even ninja had limits to their patience.

XXX

The hall was silent, as if somebody had hit the pause button on a television. Really, they couldn't believe it at all. The boy-who-lived had just gone to the bookworms nest. There was something really wrong about the whole picture. And none felt it more than Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

This wasn't supposed to happen. How could this happen. There was absolutely no way that the son of James and Lily Potter could have ended anywhere but Gryffindor. Even Slytherin might have been better than Ravenclaw!

The headmaster shook his head. All right, so Slytherin couldn't be better than Ravenclaw. But still, it was almost tantamount to saying that Harry had removed himself from the whole light side/dark side conflict with one word from a hat. It wasn't a Ravenclaw that defeated Grindelwald! It wasn't a Ravenclaw that led the fight against evil! It wasn't a Ravenclaw that resisted the dark lord trying to save her son in the face of overwhelming, malignant power and utter doom (and saved the magical world in the aftermath)!

But it was all for naught of course. The hat had sorted Harry into Ravenclaw. And in Ravenclaw he would remain. Now all Dumbledore could do was persuade him to listen to reason, while he himself had to figure out how to play up a boy savior who was now in RAVENCLAW! Why couldn't life just go his way? And it had gone oh so beautifully until now too.

XXX

As soon as Harry had found himself a seat, the hall erupted in noise. Cheers for the most part, though the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables were strangely subdued. Harry mentally smirked, even as he smiled politely and waved off questions from his new housemates. He subtly looked at the group of unsorted first years to see that Tetsuya was looking somewhere between flabbergasted to thoughtful. No doubt this was going into his report.

In the meanwhile other teachers were having varied reactions. McGonogall found herself inexplicably happy, though she managed to not show it, even as she stood there, waiting for the noise to come down. Sprout was congratulating Flitwick, who in turn was even chirpier than usual. The part goblin took a second to slyly comment about having found "a lion cub in the raven's nest", but McGonogall merely smiled, far from the head table as she was. Quirrel though raised a single eyebrow and lowered his head, smiling an unseen grim smile. The moment passed and he went back to the stuttering idiot.

Snape on the other hand was in quite a predicament, something only the minute twitches in his face was testament to. He was not sure whether he should be sneering or cheering with the rest of them. On one hand, the hated spawn of Potter was NOT in Gryffindor. He reveled in the thought that the elder Potter was surely rolling in his grave. On the other hand, his beloved flower would only be happy that her son was in the house that some called the temple of knowledge. Surely this meant that the sorting hat had seen something in the boy to put him there. Snape briefly imagined that this only meant that behind Lily's eyes (on his face, he groused) lay her intellect. However he pushed the thought away. If he went off like this, he wouldn't be able to be as...evil as his position as head of Slytherin demanded. His musings, master occlumens as he was, he filed for later, to be gone through in private. For now he had a reputation to maintain.

The hall finally quietened down and the sorting continued. It was nothing special, and nobody took the twenty minutes he did, mostly a minute at most. By the end, when everyone was sorted, Harry was surprised to find that he really had worked up an appetite. Who knew talking to a mind-reading talking hat was such work.

After the final student had been sorted, Harry sat down and half dozed off. So what if Dumbledore wanted to mention useless information, one that really applied only to the wet behind the year brats that comprised his generation(and a few before)? And besides, there was nothing wrong with sending shadow clones to see if the so called lethal corridor was anything close to lethal. Really, it was obvious the man wanted somebody to test it and find out, at which point rumor would serve as deterrent to most, urban legends and what not. It was a weird plan which would work, assuming nobody died in whatever made up the preliminary scary parts of the corridor. Although, there was always the possibility that the headmaster was an evil guy who just wanted to kill little kiddies for the heck of it...

Harry shook his head and followed his prefect, still deep in thought. He absentmindedly noted the path he was taking, letting his memory do its job. He was unsure about exactly how he was expected to proceed. He had infiltrated the huge magical castle, he was now probably cut off from training all the time (clones shouldn't be able to do magic...right?) and he had to decide what to do about the trained ninja and his comrades, who were no doubt even now stalking the huge forest that was literally right outside the door. He would have to pay a visit some day soon. Whatever said and done, Hogwarts was his turf, sort of, and he would be damned if he wasn't going to keep an eye on possible hostiles.

Harry came out of his thoughts to find the prefect telling the young wide eyed kids the way to enter the tower – riddles. Harry was reminded a bit of mythological sphinxes, which he had to remind himself actually did exist as far as magic was concerned. He noted that the house ghost, the grey lady was looking over them disinterestedly from not too far away. Looking at her, he was vaguely reminded of Ravenclaw herself, but dismissed the idea as too far fetched. Ravenclaw was too enlightened to have considered staying on for an eternity as ectoplasm.

By the time he actually fell asleep, he was thoroughly bored, and half considered sending out clones on patrol, but decided against it. He could use the rest, and tomorrow was going to be a trying day. Irrespective of how much he read, magic was going to be a kick in the guts. And he had no idea how he was supposed to use it either. Wands didn't really come with instruction manuals, and even if they did, there was absolutely no way it would mention what would happen if he were to accidentally channel chakra instead.

So many questions had been put aside for tomorrow, he decided to get as much sleep as he could. Early morning would be an ideal time to let a clone take his place while he went out to do his morning routines. Nothing like a few katha to ease out the sleep from his bones. Harry yawned and let sleep overcome him, awaiting whatever dreams came his way.

XXX

The corridors of Hogwarts, were quiet and dark at midnight, perfect for the stealthy fellow who stalked through them, leaving the castle without having alerted even the wards of the castle to his disappearance. The first time was always the most difficult, as he had to actively memorize the route and every detail in the path he took. But Tetsuya soldiered on, confident in his skills and training to move at his best stealthy pace. The forest loomed large, ever foreboding, warning of the dangers within. But the boy barely noticed. Nothing here could threaten him.

Tetsuya followed his senses, following the peculiar magical signature with the equivalent of a magical compass, a simple circular tattoo on the back of his hand that itched in the direction he was supposed to go. He concentrated on his path, ignoring the many nocturnal creatures that scurried out of his way, his magical presence as foreboding as a ballistic missile. And in another couple of seconds he reached his destination.

The treehouse, was a cubish structure, stuck on a tree. It was not hidden physically, for it was invisible to ordinary wizards. Tetsuya noted two masked and dark clothed figures, ninja just like him. At the top of the box like structure stood Taka, master tracker. And at the base of the tree stood Kenji. Tetsuya nodded to the two separately, and was signaled with gestures. He replied in the proper fashion and was immediately joined by his allies.

"Tetsuya kun...i trust all is well?"

Taka did not waste time with pleasantries. There was no need. They were all alive, and that was a as pleasant as things were going to get. But his crisp Japanese was happy all the same.

"Hai. There were no problems. I do not believe my identity has been compromised."

As always, nothing was absolutely sure. Taka nodded.

"Anything that requires a specific report?"

With magic in play, there was always something that was unexpected.

"No...though I believe this may be of interest...Potter Harry has joined Ravenclaw"

Taka raised an eyebrow. That was interesting, if not very relevant. Based on character profiles, he imagined the headmaster would be quite shocked, as would be several other people who would be informed in very short order. He supposed Hayate would have to be informed. But it was only worthy of the weekly reports. A wrongly predicted sorting was not that unusual. But it was Potter, who they had concrete evidence was the subject of a prophecy, one linking him with a presumed dead dark lord, the latter of who was the owner of Malfoys primary allegiance, which meant that... Taka shook his head. This was something Takeda would bother with anyway. So he decided to finish up his little chat. Their next meet was scheduled in the weekend anyway, unless there was an emergency, not that he expected any.

"Have you memorized the way here?"

"Hai"

"Excellent. We remove the homing beacon from here tonight. Return to the castle"

And with that, the boy hurtled through the forest, back to the school. Tomorrow would be the real start of his mission. It was time to see if a ninja really could play wizard.

XXX

A/N : another chapter up, one that I feel no satisfaction over. This one was rushed, and even if a long time was taken, I actually got only about 5 disjointed hours or so on this chapter. Exams and assignments are haunting me and I am dead tired. Hopefully I can get the next one up in a lot less time, but I'm not too confident about it.

Don't hate me if this chapter sucks...please! I think I forgot half the stuff I wanted to put in as time went by. I'll rewrite this soon, hopefully, even as I work on the next chapter.

PS: talk about your twists. Kishimoto has managed to put out some mega freaky episodes. I imagine quite a few authors on FFN will be shocked, either cause they were right or they were wrong. I myself was quite shocked at the part about whirlpool and their sealing skill, and the bits about the shodais wife. And did anyone notice that Naruto seeems to have whiskers before he gets the kyuubi sealed in?

Review please, even if its bad. Thoughts of the reader are always good. They stoke the fires that feed the forge...