Disclaimer:
Naruto and Harry Potter. They're not mine, and I'd be very surprised if they were yours, because that would imply that this fanfic is being read by a set of veeeeeery interesting people indeed.
I'm not getting paid and the rest is mine. You have been notified….
XXX
Alarms rang through the air. Smoke was coming through the vents and the floor was tilted at what seemed to be a thirty degree angle. There was no water yet, but that only meant that they were not sunk yet. It had been barely two minutes since the explosion and already it seemed to be too late to save anything. The stern was practically a crater, half the ship was on fire, what was left was listing and all that was left to do was abandon ship. However, there was just one problem. The trawler did not have intact floatation gear. All the survival gear had been packed at a single location to save space. As a result it had all become a victim of the initial explosion. The young sailor, crawling on the floor with a broken leg had mere moments in a confused daze before a second explosion broke his ship in two and sunk her entirely. From sailing normally to fully underwater, the trawler had taken just hundred and two seconds
Above them, unseen to the previously living sailors, invisible explosions littered the skies as thirty ancient looking warships flew in complicated patterns in pitched combat. The occasional projectile however arced downwards and into the sea. The sunk ship would be reported missing after two days and would never be found. Ultimately, the vessel would be the subject to conspiracy theories, as would another twenty three ships that disappeared n that area for no discernible reason, never to be known again. A month later, the Chinese trawler Qing Yuan was officially struck from its shipping registry.
XXX
The warehouse was a dull place. Thirty year old walls did not lend any excitement to a glorified hidey hole that had never seen "better days". It was accessible, was painted a dull brown and had an extended loading dock. The only impressive thing it could claim was perhaps its anonymity. Consequently, the two people who pulled up to it with a flatbed truck carrying the grey forty foot long container, did not feel as confident as they ought to have been.
"Stan, are ye sure yeh got the right place? All these bloody things look the same to me!"
Said Stan laid a reassuring hand on the other mans shoulder.
"Relax. This is the address, this is the place. We just have to get the crates in and we can head fer the nearest pub. Twelve hours drivin' ain't so bad when yeh got beer waitin fer yeh at the end."
"I hear yeh, now we jes need to rustle up some local lads tha' don't mind helpin' a-"
The words were interrupted, as the speaker suddenly found himself the victim of a throwing knife embedded in the skull. Actually, it was the eye socket and had managed quite the spatter of blood and viscera, panicking the other man completely.
The still living man, tried to run away in his panicked state. But even as he leapt from the cab, he was dead, his head landing a few feet from where his body crumpled. Two men walked quickly and quietly to the back of the truck. Both wore jumpsuits, balaclavas and utility vests, all a dull tan color.
"Check the serial number."
"HNJU7511926. It is the one."
The first speaker nodded. He motioned with his hands and the two of them carefully began the process of disposing of the bodies. There was no need to chance evidence. The two began the process of covering their tracks. The first was to temporarily set up a Torii for cargo transfer. A few sleds were used to remove the contents of the container, various crates. For half an hour, the only noises were the sounds of sliding and rolling as the men methodically removed wooden crates through the luminescent gateway. At the end, the Torii was taken down and disappeared, its one time use having finished. Finally, the truck was driven off by one of the pair while the other man began the laborious process of erasing the body, ensuring that the deaths could not be discovered by magic, sorcery or ordinary forensics. First step was to remove the bodies, which had been already done through the Torii. Next was to remove the physical evidence. The contents of a spray can were carefully applied over each of the areas with blood, from the runner. Beheading was a messy but efficient thing. A minute was all it took before the dead organic matter on the floor began to smoke and flake. Five seconds later, all that was left was carbon dust, which was getting dispersed quite easily. No stain, no protein trail. An elegant paper fan blew dust back into place, erasing tire tracks and dust voids. Next, a scentless incense stick was burnt. The magical smoke quickly purified the area, removing all traces of spells, auras and magical traces. As the man left, the stick burnt and sublimed into the air, leaving the empty warehouse just as it was, dusty and unused, just as it had been that morning
XXX
The man looked at the reports with a fair deal of resigned amusement.
"I should have expected this, I really should have. But it seems I was too late on that front."
The woman in front of him looked at his shadowed face grimly.
"It was unexpected my lord. This happened only two days ago, and our intelligence is not perfect. In any case, the Japanese have managed to do the impossible. They have put a metal vessel in the air. And in two engagements the Japanese have shot down a good chunk of our fighting fleet strength, 24 ships, and have also damaged a Zheng-He. The opinion in the imperial court is that the Japanese are turning into a menacing enemy."
"Indeed, my Hornet. It seems these ninja are persistent. What exactly does the court have to say?"
Hornet winced.
"The Immortal Emperor is in favor of ceasing hostilities as soon as possible. Considering that we have been stalling the progress on the official prototype being constructed at Shanghai, it is expected that he would be interested in the Japanese specimen. From what our men can see, the two they are fielding are seemingly more advanced than the ones we are developing."
"Describe them if you will, these poorly written words…are giving me a headache"
"Yes My Lord. As far as we have been able to confirm, there are two vessels. Both are clearly military submarines of a relatively recent build. One is a Russian Kilo class hull, flying Peoples Republic colors until it rose from the water and proceeded to score a point blank salvo on the Whisper of the North Wind. It seems to use its torpedo tubes to fire a more potent version of our standard capital ship ammunition. Its maneuverability and performance is comparable to a raider but it has demonstrated far more offensive and defensive capability. After revealing itself, it fired forty three more rounds in seven minutes while violently maneuvering and then retreated underwater, sinking seven ships in all. It was unfortunate for the Chinese that their defending cruiser was taken out first. The others were unable to counter it without risk of friendly fire before she dived. At this point we are not sure why they did not consider it suspicious, especially since the Chinese navy does not currently operate Kilo class submarines. The participating ships are also reorganizing to counter an ambush from within friendly territory
The other is a German type 209 and performed similarly. But, appearing two hours after the other attack, the fleet was able to better defend itself. It was airborne for seventy five seconds before diving. However, it was a distraction to allow the Japanese fleet to commit a surprise attack. Caught out of position and just coming down from an alert, many vessels were sunk, the 209 surfacing frequently for brief periods for finishing shots on retreating vessels."
The man leaned back, cloaking more of his figure in shadow. A minute later, he spoke.
"Did you know Hornet, that in 1941, Grindelwald created a flying U-boat?"
The woman shook her head.
"Surely you are joking, my lord. The wand wavers cannot have succeeded where we have failed so far!"
"But they did. It's not something many know or care to remember, but in august of 1941, Grindelwald somehow managed to field a type VII B that could soar at ten thousand feet at twenty knots. However, he never actually used in his war. What you must never forget my dear, is that they can create amazing things also, if they actually desire it. Our entire program and the emperor's Shanghai based one are all an attempt to do what that the Germans had managed fifty years ago. It is entirely possible that these two new examples are a result of the cooperation between the Axis powers later in the war. Cunning fellows, these ninja and their ilk. It is unfortunate, but it seems that circumstance has put us on more even footing than any of us could have possibly imagined. We will have to move carefully in their areas of operation if we need to keep up our advantage. I want you to choose between Britain and Australia. Either could use your presence, and if the war ends as quickly as you think, we will need it."
The woman bowed. "I will head for Australia. I would prefer not to be within striking distance of the demon so soon after we have stirred up its lair."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that. You are still alive after all…. Nevertheless, you can head for Australia, as soon as the travel restrictions are lifted. By my estimate, we have two years for the war to wind down and one or the other side surrenders. But then, this new addition to the game has all but ensured that the Japanese will be victorious doesn't it? Such a pity that. In any case, continue to monitor the action for the moment. I will personally supervise our construction projects while the war continues. And see if you can deduce the locations of the ninja agents currently abroad from the pre war intelligence reports. It will be useful once we can move forward in our plans."
XXX
Hagrid was drinking. The half giant had problems with ordinary liquor. His unique physiology rendered ordinary ethanol all but useless when looking for that pleasant buzz. So he was forced to trudge down to Hogsmeade every weekend for his alcohol intake.
Magically brewed firewhiskey was specifically created to act upon the magic of the drinker. So instead of the normal process of absorbing alcohol through the digestive tract to be circulated in the bloodstream, firewhiskey needed practically no time before it replicated in wizards, the effects of alcohol upon the normal human body. Still, careful adjustment ensured it was not instantaneous and that one could enjoy the brew instead of using it as a more expensive sleeping draught. A muggle on the other hand couldn't handle too much firewhiskey. A glass and they would be out.
But even firewhiskey could not allow Hagrid to savor the bliss of getting drunk. He was just that resilient to magical and chemical influence. This did not mean that Hagrid could not be affected by copious amounts of alcohol. It was just that his definition of too much alcohol was a few gallons higher than the average wizard. Without the money to pay for it, Hagrid never got drunk; ever. And how much ever Hagrid loved his job, Gamekeeper did not pay that much. So Hogs Head remained as ever, a place to relax and unwind, without the drunkenness that plagued his fellow customers.
The hooded figure who approached him however, did not mind spending a few hundred galleons on not so cheap firewhiskey. He came with a goal and a plan, and he was assisted quite beautifully by somebody who was both a master manipulator and somebody who knew the weaknesses of Reubus Hagrid.
To Voldemort, the theory of manipulating people could be reduced to two simple ideas. First, one needed to know how a person would react to a set of scenario. Second, using that knowledge, one must engineer a set of scenarios that would produce the reactions required.
In this case, Hagrid had a few real weaknesses. He was almost incapable of keeping secrets. He was also quite friendly, talkative and had pride in his "Harmless beasties". Quirrel's strategy was to take advantage of these facts.
The first step was to be friendly. Establish a common ground that was the foundation for the rest of the interaction. Quirrel first brought the half giant enough firewhiskey to make a dragon drunk. Next he began to talk about breeding creatures. With the Dark Lord in the back of his head and a near inebriated companion, it was not long before Hagrid was behaving as if Quirrel was an old friend.
The second step was to subtly prod Hagrid into a half drunk speech, without his filters on. As a "friend", Hagrid would not be violent to criticism (he was just that bloody nice), but would rather argue the point. By calling Hagrid's expertise into question, Quirrel had all but ensured a prideful rant from the half drunk gamekeeper. A comment along the lines of "But what experience can you have working in a school full of children?" led to a rant of the various creatures he had experience with. After the Unicorns, Centaurs, Acromantula and Thestrals all of which was actually impressive in any other circumstance, Hagrid finally mentioned Fluffy.
Next, Quirrel subtly but surely shifted focus to the creature called Fluffy. A careless mention of how impressed he, a Greek was at a Cerberus, was enough to quell Hagrid's doubts. A Greek creature breeder asking about a creature from his country was not that implausible. Half an hour of talking later, Hagrid finally wound down about Fluffy's childhood, Fluffy's teeth, Fluffy's favorite midday snack, Fluffy's favorite chew toy and so on. Quirrel was finally able to coax Hagrid into slipping the vital information. So music was the answer to his problem. How simple. And finally, Quirrel had to extricate himself from the possibility of Hagrid mentioning this conversation to Dumbledore
Quirrel made his escape by handing over his fertile and soon to hatch dragon egg to Hagrid. It may have been a half remembered fact in the vast expanse of knowledge the Dark Lord had amassed, but Hagrid's obsession with dragons and a confundus charm all but erased the encounter in Hagrid's mind save for the fact that he had been gifted the dragon egg.
Wait, that was still not plausible enough. Ah, that's better. Now that Dragon egg was "won" in a "card game". Now anybody who managed to get that "information" ahead of schedule would only believe this was an attempt to pawn off the egg. His Lord Voldemort was truly wise and all knowing. Sure, Hagrid might remember again in a few weeks thanks to his half giant physiology, but by then, he wouldn't think much about it. Either he'd be enraptured over a baby dragon, or be in Azkaban for illegal breeding. The Dark Lord was maliciously happy to frame the half breed for the second time. And in Hogwarts no less!
XXX
Jeremy Wilkinson, employed by Scotland Yard and currently investigating a massacre was roused from poring over his data by a knock on his desk.
"Sir?"
His superior officer, and off duty drinking buddy, Paul Ellwood bent over to him and whispered.
"I'm sorry Jerry, but from about two hours from now, you're going to have company in this little party."
Jeremy sighed.
"Who is it Paul? And will they be of any help? Or are they taking over?"
Paul shook his head.
"It's going to be a joint effort. Apparently one of their ongoing operations has discovered a connection between the victims of our killing spree and their own targets. They are hoping that this will help both of us in our respective cases."
"Paul, just tell me who it is. You're beating around the bush too much!"
There was a deep breath.
"It's Interpol. The guy is named Takeda Suzuki. He's some Japanese Sherlock that's done a lot of work on the Chinese Triads. And don't go blowing your top about it now!"
Jeremy stilled and sighed.
"I'm not twenty eight you know. It's been a long while since I threw a tantrum over such things-"
Paul was unimpressed and interjected, "You're thirty."
Jeremy continued without any sign he had heard,
"- And personally, I hope this guy can help me with this, because I am getting very frustrated with this."
"Yes, its bleedin' obvious. Any actual progress yet?"
Jeremy nodded.
"I've constructed a basic order of events based on the path, the splatters and the bullets."
Paul gave him a measured look. Jeremy just looked exasperated.
"Yes Paul, the bullets. Don't look at me like that. I've been getting the lab to match the striations on almost all the bullets recovered so that I can construct a timeline and figure out who fired what. It helps that they all stuck with the same brand, Sellier & Bellot. Which by the way is more evidence that those arms smugglers Edwin has been investigating are all sourcing from-"
"Yes I get it. I'll be sure to tell him that. Not that it will do any good…"
Jeremy then spent the next half hour laying out the attack as he knew it on a floor plan of the building. He drew lines, circled the areas where the victims must have fired using what guns. He even got a count of the casing s to prove where the guns were firing.
"An' here's the scary part" he said, pointing at a corridor. "Until this point, these thugs are being killed wholesale by kitchen knife, which is really creepy and reminds me of an American horror film… Anyway, the guys now start using guns, which is all well and good, except for the fact that these were the same guns being fired at them barely minutes earlier! It's like these guys came in with just the kitchen knives and then picked up guns as they went further in. Its madness I tell you! Also, the killers used all the calibers they could. We know from the blood trails and splatter that the dead were searched immediately, so they took the spare ammunition also. It's like they were bloody testing the toys they picked up. And after everyone was dead, they just calmly go about looting the place of the money the weapons and maybe something else. But they leave the alcohol! I don't know what those dead crooks were doing with French wine that expensive, but simply ignoring what's in the open? Who does that? I hope this new guy of yours can help me because all this is case is going to do is get me committed before the week is out!"
"Good luck with that. And don't forget to get your paperwork done. See you at eight."
"Right then."
XXX
"Tetsuya kun"
A shiver trailed up his spine. Tetsuya considered, not for the first time, whether it was an omen of his karma that the voice now seemed to follow him into the school proper.
"Skywalker san. This is unexpected"
A humanoid form slowly melted out of the shadows of the alcove where the voice had originated. This time though, it had company. A semi nude female figure dramatically melted from the same spot. Wisps of shadow dispersed teasingly until a red clad figure was revealed. But this was somebody he knew. He let out a gasp in shock. But his words were derailed by the next statement.
"You see Aurora? This is the ninja who has been wandering around. Why don't you play with him for a while? You don't need to be near me all the time, yeah?"
The girl produced a full toothy grin, unsettling him with the sheer amount of mischievous intent he was reading. It was very much the vibe Saya gave off before she began to utterly decimate her opponent. Being in front of somebody carrying the same vibe as that mostly deranged Hokaido kunoichi was not reassuring.
A split second later, his brain reset and began to analyze the situation. He was facing one known and one unknown opponent. Their motives were indiscernible and the probability of failure if he chose to attack was high. So instead he thought furiously over the fact that the first year girl was apparently an acquaintance of the mysterious self proclaimed shinobi. Skywalker was strong, and if the way that Granger held herself was any indication, so was she. But what was the point of practically admitting such an association to him? Skywalker knew that he would report this. And so far, a major advantage the man had possessed was his anonymity. Why would he compromise the security that ignorance his associate possessed? Or was it not Granger? The chances were low. Not to mention that he had been in a few conversations where Grangers seeming insanity was discussed. Her behavior had abruptly undergone changes on near random dates, and she seemed to possess some form of multiple personality disorder. But this Granger topped them all. This was not a bookworm. This was a predator. He shivered. And then they were gone.
What had happened? Where did they go? He spun around hurriedly. There was no indication that anything had occurred at all. It might have been his imagination for all he knew. He turned around and there was Granger, wearing her normal uniform. There was just one thing that made him wary. She was holding a hand gun of some sort and methodically cleaning as she walked. As she reached a corner, she looked at him and smiled her Cheshire grin. She then made a gesture with her hand, miming shooting him. She winked and disappeared around the corner. Tetsuya shivered.
XXX
Minerva McGonagall eyed her first year class quite warily. Transfiguration was a dangerous subject. And first years, with their relatively higher theoretical learning compared with actual wand waving meant that when it came to actually doing the spells, the children had a possibility of causing widespread mayhem. First year classes were always a tense time. With the mixture of purebloods eager to prove that they knew what they were doing, and the muggleborn who were eager to experiment, she had a headache getting the undisciplined horde to do anything properly. It was just as well that spell work at this stage produced smaller results as they actually got used to learning and doing magic. It would have been a real nightmare if every spell cast and miscast actually did something. There was a reason transfiguration was heavily regulated in the classroom. And she had to reverse another student's object as it began to gain legs and crawl away. "Mr. Thomas, please concentrate on your spell or it will have unexpected and possibly dangerous consequences! I have repeated time and again that focus is essential but it seems the lesson has not sunk in yet! That will be four inches on the importance of focus from you."
The bell rang, indicating that it was finally time to leave the class. McGonagall rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly. Teaching was a joy. But teaching first years? Not so much. Only a couple of students were responsible enough to no flub most of this relatively minor part of the subject. It was disheartening to watch a field that you had such love and passion and expended so much work for be reduced to a subject most people couldn't care the slightest for. Not even Albus's reputation and mastery of the art seemed to reduce this downfall of transfiguration. It was troublesome, to say the least.
She sighed and got up. She had a staff meeting to attend. Ever since Albus had brought that wretched stone into the castle, it seemed that all she had time for was meetings. Staff meetings, Head of House meetings, Board of Governor meetings, Philosophers Stone defense meetings, there were so many meetings that she didn't even have enough time to lounge around as a cat. It was frustrating, stressful and overall maddening. She could see it now; Albus would pop in wearing some heresy to fashion and eyesight, smile and offer everyone lemon drops while showing off the twinkle in his eyes. Then he'd let everyone get the pre meeting arguing done before interrupting and reminding everyone who the king was. Oh yes, that infuriatingly cheerful man just loved to be the centre of attention, while ensuring that nobody could actually pay attention to him without going blind. She shook her head, and found herself in the headmaster's office, sitting in front of the old goat himself.
"Ah Minerva! Lemon Drop?"
The look she shot at him was actually enough to quell the headmaster, who let the dish back into its lair, ready to exasperate the next guest in the room.
"What have you called me for this time Headmaster?"
Dumbledore winced. Minerva usually called him Albus. This was serious, but then so was this conversation.
"I would not interrupt your busy schedule for mere trifles. Surely you of all my friends remember that Minerva?"
"I would not put it past you Albus. This year you have managed to give me a headache the size of the astronomy tower!"
She was back to Albus again, so there was progress! Still, this needed to be handled carefully.
"I apologize for that. Unfortunately, it cannot be avoided. Still, I must come back to the reason I have called you. Did you wonder why there are no others for this meeting?"
McGonagall pursed her lips as she was accustomed to do while in serious thought.
"I had assumed Headmaster that you would finally deign to return to your paperwork and allow me to return to my normal duties."
Dumbledore winced at the extremely dry and accusing tone.
"Again I apologize. Unfortunately my presence has been called upon quite a few times these past few weeks. The channel incident has not helped matters and our esteemed Minister is under the impression that there are assassins after his head."
"I don't care what you have to do Albus! Just get the forms filled on time or I will take my vacation time starting tomorrow! The board has been breathing down my neck over all sorts of trivialities and somebody has avoided balancing the budget for this year. And it's already past Christmas! At the rate all this is going I will be addicted to calming draught by the end of the month! And before you open that mouth, your next words better be I'll get right on that paperwork!"
Albus worked his jaw for a few seconds, absently contemplating the origins of the term paperwork in the back of his mind before giving in with a sigh.
"I'll get right on that paperwork. I'll be here for the next three days anyway."
McGonagall grinned savagely.
"Thank you Albus! Now what did you call me for?"
Dumbledore leaned back tiredly.
"What do you know about the eastern territories?"
XXX
Takeda looked over the assorted crates with a jaundiced eye. It was a sad day when you had to actually use the "emergency stockpile for survival and mission completion". Somebody once called it the FUBAR box. The crates were many. The first one was of course the most useful one, complete, verifiable ID's and emergency cash. Without the convenience of faction bank accounts, this would have to do. And most of the crate was useless. All of the Spirit Shadow's original crew was dead, and hence most of the Id's were useless. However, this meant that the emergency cash, which should have been "just enough" was now I the order of "just more than enough" to cover any medium level of emergencies. The cash surplus meant that it was possible to actually go beyond basic survival and dispersal into the populace. He would have to consider the idea of actually beginning mercenary action. There certainly were the weapons for it. Their current inventory included a very mercenary looking set of HK33K Carbines with optical sights, Steyr AUG rifles, Taurus PT-92 pistols, MSG90 semi automatic sniper rifles, American M67 hand grenades and the more conventional sets of magic negating bladed weaponry. There were also Kevlar vests, NBC survival gear, electronic communication equipment, rocket launchers, and large quantities of Semtex. Accompanying it were magazines, ammunition and manuals. Without his Interpol stint, he wasn't sure he would have recognized even a tenth of it. The space expansion enchantments were apparently done by one of the Japanese wizards who "answered" to the ICW. Takeda was sure he could use this, especially, since there was a lot of surplus, considering the large number it was originally intended to support. What he was really thankful for was that procurement had not shafted them with Kalashnikov type rifles. They were too inaccurate and noisy for his tastes, not to mention Russian. Still the number of means in which one might employ military grade weapons was limited. Unless of course, one had the bright idea to remove the existence of annoyances like Skywalker; who was somebody exhibiting particularly mosquito like behavior. He buzzed around them and stung, drawing blood. He briefly went into a fantasy involving Skywalker, a dentist's chair, foot long metal needles, wires and a car battery.
Still, his current "job" was the investigation of the "Christmas Day Massacre" a curious case that had left Scotland Yard stumped. That Wilkinson fellow was a bit unhinged, and had a tendency to rant in a quiet manner that was always amusing to watch. The Korean liaison to Interpol, a strictly neutral fellow as far as Eastern Territories was concerned, was not bothered by his request to return to "Active Duty".
Scotland Yard was only too glad to welcome to aid their investigation. The government, always in need of people to blame was very close to publically deriding their agency's handling of the investigation. Apparently, the public felt "unsafe" because somebody had the audacity to wipe out a building full of criminals. And then steal their belongings. It was all very amusing in the midst of their otherwise meaningless existence. And it really was meaningless, until they received further orders from their superiors. Training somebody into a super powered quasi drone meant that you had to give constant orders to get them to do anything
It had been amusing to turn up at Scotland Yard dressed in four layers of clothing and a Fedora. Personally he might have been overplaying it, but in his line of work, one sought their amusements where they could. Certainly, it had turned his slightly above average (for the Japanese) frame into something that looked far more…solid.
Ellwood had been very cooperative, giving him everything they had. It was certainly a lot. Because it was a public case, there were a lot of personnel assigned to Wilkinson and the data they had collected was enormous. The very unusual killing however meant that very little of it made sense. He had taken just an hour to determine that this was done by ninja. And he had a very good idea just who had done the deed too.
This sort of playful slaughter seemed to be just the sort of thing that Skywalker seemed to be capable of. Tetsuya had reported feeling his opponent operating with "playful violence". This was something that had the same "feel", and Takeda trusted his gut. It was all too easy to visualize the man in his black and red coat, walking into a heavily guarded building with just a kitchen knife in his hand. He would approach through the front, ignoring any and all shouts or threats. When they fire, he would slip around them, like a shadow without form. And he would kill them all, never striking a non lethal spot. When he wanted to kill, he did. And he would walk and slaughter without a care, until halfway through, he found himself getting bored. There was only so much stabbing one can do before you tire of simply stabbing them, so the next one he stabs, he takes the weapon off of them, and then he begins to shoot. Pull the trigger, move, pull the trigger, and move. When the slide locks back, discard the weapon and pick up the next one. He did not need to scavenge for weapons. Not when there was a new one next to every fresh corpse. And then when everyone is dead he would pick through everything and take it away, leaving a little mystery for the authorities to puzzle over. And through it all he would laugh inside at the weakness of the world around him, while outside, there was but the silence of the grave.
A hand on his shoulder broke his reverie. Kenji stood behind him, eyebrows set in concern. Takeda shook his head and sighed. Setting himself up as an Interpol agent was going to cut into his time. Still, it was not as if he had many things to do. And the others could use the time to practice their nonexistent marksmanship. It was unfortunate, but they would have to operate as non magical troops in their current location. It would not do to cause mass panic by doing things the way they normally did. Ninja style executions were reserved for sorcerers for a reason. There was a concrete reason why ninja had to get up close and personal to a sorcerer. There was no real need to do the same for a wizard or non magical person. A bullet would do just as well, and would ironically raise fewer questions. It helped that his brief stint in Interpol gave him plenty of perspective on the non magical world. He still hoped that war would be over soon. He did not relish years of living in Britain. It was simply cruel and unusual punishment.
XXX
McGonagall had been reeling by the time she stepped out of the Headmaster's office. Exactly what sort of wild and illogical things did he deal with on a daily basis? And if so, why did she need to be dragged into it all. She knew why, in the back of her head, that Albus was entrusting her to take care of the school, that he may be unreachable if things came to a head. But it was so disturbing the things he had revealed. She had spent the next few days in a daze, one so disruptive that one of the Weasley twins had showed genuine concern about her. They had even stopped pranking for the next two days until she had shown a bit more surety in her actions. Still, even her less distracted state had been noticed and remarked upon. But out of respect, none had brought it up. Dumbledore, the only one who might have done so, was content to let the deputy work through her thoughts in her own time. It was best not to rush such things. For that way lies madness.
Still, there was on other that McGonagall trusted for things that might affect the school. And when her head had cleared enough, she visited Flitwick in his office.
Flitwick was more than happy to listen to his colleague.
"So Minerva, are you finally all right? You scared us there for a bit. I dare say I've never seen Severus so concerned till now. So what can I do for you?"
McGonagall sipped her tea thoughtfully, an expression that Flitwick was long used to seeing. It was almost nostalgic, how the people one knew changed so much, yet stayed the same.
XXX
Tetsuya was reading in the library. It was evening, and the sky was overcast. January the thirty first was ending on a less than perfect note. The Sunday had little to offer in terms of excitement and he had received no new orders when he checked in. in fact all that had changed was that he was now armed with a pair of pistols and was expected to eventually train with them. It was not entirely clear why he was suddenly expected to be proficient in them but orders were orders. He had been given an update with regards to Takeda's new Interpol cover, but was otherwise kept in the dark. From what he could gather, there were some planned operations for the summer break that he was to be part of. He was to treat them as parallel but separate to his Hogwarts mission. He was also given a bit of cash to pay the seniors for Hogsmeade supplies, if he needed them. Hufflepuffs were entirely too happy to help their fellow wizard.
His deep contemplations were interrupted by a throat clearing and somebody sitting down opposite to him.
It was not somebody he was familiar with, but the Asian features were very blatant. He quirked an eyebrow, seeing that she was a senior and a Ravenclaw.
"You are Watanabe Tetsuya?"
He did not expect that she would speak in Japanese, so he looked at her for a moment until he had recovered from the surprise. It seemed that the girl was not chancing a miscommunication and was using Japanese rather than Cantonese or Mandarin. He answered in kind,
"Indeed I am. What is it you wish to speak about?"
"I only request that you deliver this letter to your superiors, wherever they are."
And with that, she slid an extremely regal scroll towards him, letting him examine it without having to pick it up. He continued to talk as he waved a hand over it, sensing for magical traps.
"Is there a sorcerer contingent in this country?"
"No, I am but the daughter of a neutral mage. We are, as ever subjects of the Immortal Emperor, but my presence here is merely to experience the delights of the 'Premier magical education in the world'. Unfortunately, the only thing I have discovered to be of any great value is the eye candy, something I believe you care very little for."
Tetsuya grimaced. Unlike the sorcerers, who were not above engaging in small amounts of hedonism, ninja were trained to a ridiculous degree to avoid falling prey to "vices that cloud the mind", which included narcotics, alcohol and sexual or romantic relationships, among others. Their bodies were modified in small ways to prevent the excess production of certain hormones that made such activities enjoyable. Of course, it was a will based block, so that eventually, it would wear down, but ninja were assured the inability to enjoy certain things for the early period of their lives. Consequently, despite having lots of knowledge on how to seduce or charm another person into your grasp, Tetsuya had a great deal of internal aversion to actually enjoying such things. He could fake it well, but it was perfectly true to say that ninja were asexual beings well into their twenties, if not forever. There was a reason most ninja are orphans. There simply weren't enough recruits born "in house". His musings were interrupted when he felt something wash over him. A quick glance showed that the other girl, who had still not introduced herself, was similarly alerted and wary. Their eyes flicked around as they casually turned their head, looking perfectly at ease from afar.
When they turned back to each other, they were suddenly exposed to the origin of their last unsettling sensation.
Sitting on a newly placed third chair around the table was an armored individual. He wore a strange helmet and his armor itself seemed to be light and not very protective. However, the tightly bound aura that the figure produced left no doubt in the mind of the Japanese ninja that there was something dangerous about him…
"Skywalker!" he hissed. He pulled a pistol out and pointed it at the newly arrived individual. "What is your purpose here?"
The newly dubbed Skywalker chuckled, a sound that was deeper than he was used to, no doubt due to the odd yet familiar looking helmet he was wearing. The camouflage pattern, green and brown made for a slightly unsettling image.
"So a ninja, a sorcerer and a mercenary walk into a library…."
The other two twitched. Tetsuya shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His pistol was still pointed at Skywalker, the safety was clearly off, and his index finger lay tensed on the trigger.
"What are you here for?"
"Say, is that a Beretta 92?"
"You did not answer the question."
"Ooookaay… well, here I was walking on the ceiling, wondering what I should do today, when what do I find but our resident ninja in the middle of an actual conversation. And so I wondered, what was so important my cute little Tetsuya kun has to be so serious?"
He paused and the other two stared.
"Say, aren't you Cho Chang? Ravenclaw second year?"
The girl nodded curtly, an action that was a carbon copy of McGonagall's. Skywalker leaned back, folding his hands against his chest, the armor making an unnoticeably dull thud from the action.
Tetsuya gripped the pistol tighter. It seemed that Skywalker was either foolish or crazy. Even he could see just how irritated the young Sorceress was getting. Thin wisps of magic were radiating off the girl, and parts of her black uniform were shifting into something else, likely her battle robes. Though why she was getting irritated was quite another matter entirely.
"I wished to know, why there is a second year like you, with so much power hidden. Why does a first year like you have so many secrets? So I desired to find out, who are you?"
The last was said in Japanese. Chang twitched. "This is quite interesting. Watanabe… Who is your friend?"
"He is no friend. This irritating fellow has been buzzing around our operation since August. Unfortunately, at my current level, I am incapable of killing him."
Skywalker chuckled. "Now don't be so glum my friend, you are young and have time to grow. Some of us on the other hand had to struggle merely to survive our trials and tribulations. Which, you must admit is a most powerful motivation to excel."
Chang chuckled again, her battle robes showing up in patches and dissolving back to her Hogwarts uniform. It was a hypnotizing display, but the other two were not paying too much attention.
"It seems that you two cannot get along at all. And you, Skywalker... it is you who has been clambering up the halls of the castle. I had not paid attention before, but it is obvious that you are not part of the Ninja staying in the forest. I must say it was fascinating watching you dance around everything. Nobody seemed to see you, except me. And then, when I realized there was another unique individual in the castle, I observed him, and I saw…that he too could not see you."
The other two were looking at her. Where was she going with this? Tetsuya took a quick glance and noticed that the library was empty. Everyone had gone. Even the librarian, Pince was gone. The eerie silence was broken when Chang's appearance finally solidified into the Battle robes which were no doubt extremely powerful defenses. Unfortunately, Tetsuya had neither the power nor the skill to take out even a young sorceress. His mission ensured that he would not learn how for another seven years.
Chang meanwhile had gotten up and spun around, wearing a psychotic grin that seemed out of place on her formerly restrained features. "Shall we play a game?"
She grinned and the world exploded.
XXX
The library at Hogwarts was a huge collection of books with copies of some books that go back to the founders. Under the care of Irma Pince, it was a paragon of neat and orderly arrangement of knowledge. Unfortunately for the library, today was not a good day. And many of the pristine shelves were thrown against the wall haphazardly.
On one side stood a blue and white clad twelve year old sorceress, Cho Chang. Surrounding her, in a manifestation of otherworldly power were two long and winding dragons, twisting around her, heads at the top, tail at the bottom, two helixes that corkscrewed against each other, it was her defense. A third dragon coiled around the other two lazily; its glowing eyes a clear indication of its intent. Then Chang began chanting.
Tetsuya felt the first slivers of fear running through his spine. A sorcery based chant could do almost anything. A chant had a beginning end and middle, one that could last forever. Simply from the way her arms were waving, he knew this was an environment manipulation chant. The rumbling from beneath his feet was a big clue. He didn't know how this was happening. How was a twelve year old capable of battle chanting? Why was she chanting in the first place? The dragon began shooting watermelon sized balls of air, so he dodged mindlessly. It appeared from the speed and potency of her attacks that she was still very much a novice, something he was thankful for. And then the stone began to ripple and deform. Chunks of the floor began to lift into the air and hover, before revolving around the sorceress. Through it all, Skywalker stood still, as if waiting for the moment when the seemingly unhinged sorceress began to target him. Tetsuya jumped into the air, dodging as pieces of stone bigger in size than his head began to launch themselves at him. The projectile promptly crashed against a shelf in the restricted section, destroying it and some of the books on it. Tetsuya idly wondered if there was a reason Chang was being this vicious before noting that Skywalker was not being shot at. His brief feeling of surprise was transformed into trepidation when the magically reinforced library doors splintered and exploded into the room.
XXX
Dumbledore was the first to the scene. Being headmaster had the side effect of being painfully aware of the destruction in the library when about twenty portraits had begun to scream in his ear. He really didn't need the headache. Still, destroying the library books was a very serious event. The library had a great deal of protective enchantments and purposely damaging a book in it required a great deal of ingenuity or power. The enchantments on the library were the work of Rowena Ravenclaw herself. To destroy so many books in spite of them all, could only be the work of a powerful malice. And from what he could gather, there was a large amount of power being gathered in there. He would have to be prepared. He was not taking chances. He could not afford to. With all the chaos that seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere after ten years of peace, he wouldn't be surprised if somebody had let loose a dragon inside there. There were many who sought the stone hidden within the school. And distractions are a viable strategy to occupy the headmaster.
Drawing up in front of the doors, Dumbledore drew up to his full height and jabbed his wand forward, his robes furiously fluttering backwards just from the energy bleeding off. The doors themselves disintegrated, the nearly sickle sized shards of wood funneled inside by the nature of the spell used. He had a brief glimpse of three figures before they disappeared in a pressure wave that further damaged the library, sending up the dust from pulverized stone, wood and paper. A Hufflepuff uniform wearing male, an armored and helmeted figure who was most likely male and a third party in blue and white, obscured by the whirling and floating rocks in some kind of advanced wind spell. He had apparently walked into a battle and the participants had fled when confronted by a gatecrasher.
Unfortunately for the headmaster, he was so lost in furiously replaying and analyzing events that he had been standing there in the same spot as when the combatants disappeared. Without the extra impetus of danger, he did not see or hear Madame Pince draw up behind him. The Librarian had taken one look at the damage and shoved the headmaster to the side with all the manner of a rampaging Erumpet. A loud cry of "MY LIBRARY!" reverberated through the hallways. Because he was unprepared, the poor man managed to hit his head on the wall hard enough to knock him out.
Until he awoke three hours later, the staff was panicked that there were intruders of sufficient ability to defeat the Headmaster in combat, while destroying the library in the process. McGonagall had stood in front of the third floor corridor, wand in her iron grip until she received word that Albus was all right.
XXX
When the headmaster had barged in, the three in the library had a split second to decide what to do. Chang turned invisible and flew off, her departure hidden by the chaos of her dissipating spells. Tetsuya had hopped away, over the headmaster, who had looked shocked and seemed to be trying to process what he had seen. As for Harry, he dispersed. He was just a clone after all.
The original Harry Potter raised an eyebrow and slunk into the nearest shadow, disappearing from the common room without being noticed. He slunk along the castle, searching and searching until he found the second year who had just minutes ago tried to fight him in the library. She was in the forest, just within the boundary, as was Tetsuya. Rubbing his gloved hands together, Harry appeared before them.
"So, shall we continue the party?"
The sorceress sighed. "Let's not bother. We will have more than enough opportunities to fight in the next few years. After that ruckus in the library, we will have to avoid any overt displays until things settle down. Besides, it was inadvisable to fight anyway. With the defense professor being possessed as he is, the use of non wizard abilities within a highly visible location could be observed by unknown parties. I am not entirely comfortable with the scrutiny such an exposure would result in. Thus we must all hold off for a while, most likely until next year for any violence that may prove….troublesome."
Harry tilted his head. "The defense professor is possessed?" Tetsuya also nodded questioningly, unsure of what it meant. Cho nodded simply. The silence was broken by a distant roar. A flash of flame lit up the evening and some shouts were heard.
Harry paused and took off. Tetsuya looked at her and shrugged, before heading back to the castle. Cho stood a while longer before a thestral walked up to her. She patted it on the head and sighed. Her impetuousness had led them to this stage.
"Even without our lifting a finger, events come to pass."
XXX
The time after was tense. There was a crushing weight upon everyone. Too many things had happened tin too short a time. Even without the dragon that was now somewhere in the forbidden forest. Three days after the library incident, there was an announcement that a Norwegian Ridgeback had taken residence in the forest. Considering that Hagrid was at the time sobbing about his baby at his seat on the staff table, there were very few people who did not have an idea as to exactly where the dragon came from.
Students scurried like rodents, shoulders hunched and eyes lowered. Incidents between houses diminished as people found new excuses to stay inside and not wander the halls. The library was almost deserted. Even though the repairs were done almost immediately, the fact that something had happened there and the teachers weren't talking was enough for rumors to spread. Classes were conducted with a solemn severity that made what even Charms seem like a funeral. Everyone just wanted their time here to be done and over with.
It was in this atmosphere that Quirrel thrived. The lack of joy had an invigorating effect on the dark lord and he was actually feeling better even with the systematic destruction of his body. Even as the end of the year approached and everyone began to perk up, his good mood had been there to stay. So he planned and plotted. The Philosopher's stone was there for the taking. He just had to arrange some suitable distraction in place. Fortunately, the Dark Lord Voldemort, thanks to his days in Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn alley, had a great deal of affinity to the old and useful art of forgery. And considering the type of people in the ministry, Dumbledore wouldn't have a problem believing they wanted him there for one reason or the other.
The stage was set, the actors in place. Come tomorrow it would be Showtime.
XXX
It was Thursday, 4th of June, 1992. A few days were all there was left to the end of the year. The students were full of youthful anticipation. And the exams were written with much exasperation. But there were people for whom there were more important things to do. Dumbledore was gone. He had an errand from the Ministry of Magic, who apparently couldn't find their bottoms if their hands were spelled to it. The staff was otherwise unhurried, but it was curious to see that they kept an eye on everyone. The day passed much the same as any other day and through it all, Quirrel fought the giddiness. It was infuriating how time passed so slowly when he needed to get that stone.
At night, once curfew had passed, Quirrel couldn't wait any longer. He tore through the corridors with a purposeful stride. He had pulled out all stops for today. Extra unicorn blood and an illegal potion to temporarily boost magical power at the cost of future pain, he was not in the mood to be stopped by his own weakness.
Unnoticed to him, his thoughts and Voldemort's aligned. There would be no use of for the deluded fool after today, so the dark lord had no problems accelerating the degradation for a bit more power. After all, he would get his own body today, no use keeping the old one alive for much longer.
The obstacles were easy, which was what made Quirrel so wary. The headmaster had a century to study and wield arcane magics. Where was all that knowledge being used? Why were the challenges so weak?
The Cerberus was easy to take care of. An enchanted harp for a melody and just like that the beast was asleep. The devils snare he magically pushed aside. The keys he acquired by conjuring a falcon that quickly snatched the thing out of thin air. The chess set he flew over, a power the dark lord had explained the mechanics of. The troll was knocked out easily; he was an expert on them after all. He walked through Snape's fires with little issue. His dark arts were superior to anything that pathetic little parasite was capable of.
The last obstacle baffled him. The mirror was an arcane magic, an example of the work that was possible in the old days, when wizards truly were gods. But for now, it was merely an obstacle to be considered. But it was a most impressive one.
Quirrel spent an entire hour waving his wand before he was satisfied that there was a philosopher's stone in the mirror. In other words, it wasn't a decoy. The signature showed an alchemic circle beyond his understanding, but not beyond his capabilities to make use of. Voldemort had delved deep into magic, and alchemy was a part of that. Still, he had to get it first!
As the minutes ticked by, he became more and more frustrated. Why was he not getting this? Why was there no stone? The Mirror of Erised mocked him blatantly with his failure and desire all at once. Time passed by without notice.
"Hello Quirrinus."
The calm tones of Dumbledore's voice floated at him from behind.
"YOU! This is YOUR fault!"
Dumbledore, eyes noticeable by their lack of twinkle chuckled mirthlessly. The plan was simple. Keep the former DADA professor occupied. Combat would go in the headmasters favor, but it was always best to put off the actual fighting as long as possible. Thus they both stood vary, wands gripped tightly, ready for spell fire
"Did you not imagine Quirrinus, that if I set traps that a competent wizard might foil, I would have a purpose in doing so"
Quirrel growled and shivered in his rage.
"I would imagine old man, that all that you finally showed just how senile you really are. You will not stop me Dumbledore. I WILL succeed here. My Master WILL rise tonight. I WILL be rewarded as his faithful servant."
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. However, the wand gripped at his side told a different story.
"You poor deluded fool... Voldemort does not reward his followers for their success. He punishes them for their failure. You will fail today and by tomorrow morning will have passed on to your next great adventure. This room is a trap. You cannot physically leave this room unless I allow you such permission. One may turn back at any other point before, but to leave THIS room, I am the only one capable of granting that privilege."
Quirrel gnashed his teeth furiously, his wand hand vibrating from the tenseness.
"I will speak to him"
Quirrel startled and then calmed. He removed his turban, one turn at a time. And when it was fully gone, he turned around with a flourish.
"Tom"
Dumbledore didn't blink at the hideous growth at the back of the head. But Voldemort, the ash colored face was not amused at the name.
"See what I have become old man? Because of that boy, I have become less than vapor. A shadow of my former self, but even now I stand at the heart of your fortress. How does it feel Dumbledore, to know that I have been within reach of all those mudblood spawn? That at my word, your precious children would have become mere corpses in the hallway?"
Dumbledore didn't twitch. He was a picture of calm.
"Does Quirrinus know that when you abandon him, he will die instantly? That all your effort till now will do nothing to further you or him?"
"Ma-master?"
Voldemort scowled at the Headmaster before shrugging with Quirrel's shoulders and smirking.
"It seems I will not be returning to the wizarding world just yet. Mark my words, Dumbledore. One way or another, I will return. I will bring your world down to its knees and I will kill you and that accursed boy. You are both living on borrowed time. Enjoy your life while it lasts!"
Not even giving Dumbledore time to reply, he flew out of Quirrel's head like a bludger. First he headed towards Dumbledore, but seeing the ominously lit wand, he changed his mind and flew straight up instead. Dumbledore stood still for a moment before sighing tiredly. A quick check confirmed that Quirrel was dead. A few more spells to lock down the room once he left and he traced his way back all the way to Fluffy. The beast was still asleep from the spell he had put up.
McGonagall's face greeted his the second he stepped outside. She opened her mouth to ask him a question, but he shook his head. She gave a huff of relief before asking, "Quirrinus?" Yet again, Dumbledore shook his head. The expression on his face was contemplative.
"It seems Minerva, that we are not allowed the luxury of waiting."
"What do you mean Albus?"
"Only that I am beginning to see why some chose to retire early."
McGonagall shot him a venomous look but said no more. He wouldn't be saying anything useful today.
When both teachers had left, an armored figure briefly appeared out of thin air, dropping from the ceiling before disappearing in a puff of smoke. In another part of the castle, an amused voice spoke three words.
"How very interesting…"
XXX
A/N:
And so the first year draws to a close. I chose to end it here because everything after this is really better suited to another chapter. This one really doesn't have a common theme, but touches briefly on several people's lives and events. The wheels of destiny grind their way slowly as things happen related to and independent of each other. I didn't want to focus on Hogwarts alone and this reflects that. The part at the beginning isn't really relevant for the moment, but I like to think that if war occurs, everyone is affected, regardless of whether it is now or later. If people die in war, and their deaths are meaningless, there really isn't much hope for the human race at all. Also, I've shown hinted at a bunch of idle assassins who are currently doing….stuff. This will be important eventually, much like the kanji burnt into Harry's eyes will be important…eventually.
The end might seem boring and the lack of actual combat off putting, but I'd like to think that if you are thinking straight, you'd try not to do anything big in a school full of children. Whether that is due to compassion or a desire to avoid getting in Dumbledore's sights, its pretty sensible to avoid fighting. And Dumbledore was waiting for Quirrel to run out of gas. Willing possession + no real gain by remaining in Hogwarts = a Voldemort who will leave without issue, mostly because in that form he really couldn't do jack shit. Yes, Dumbledore knew about Voldy. If he hadn't, the heavily warded room with dark wizard bait would probably have some means of detecting if the dark lord had popped over for tea and slaughter, because he's Albus Freaking Dumbledore.
Yes Cho has become some variation of ooc. She's not all powerful, doesn't have super powers and is definitely not invincible. She's just using magic very few can understand the first time around. And looks damned impressive. She's just there to observe and look at the drama, and maybe add to it.
The really sneaky assassin squad has now gained guns, because killing people with impossibly thrown shuriken is always suspicious.
Our man head ninja does part time at Interpol. Because life is funny like that. And massacres are always interesting once you've stopped regurgitating food.
The dragon is FREEEE! Yes, that's what happens when you don't have a convenient hero to smuggle your illegal animals properly. The dragon burnt through the house, because Hagrid wanted it to be a secret, couldn't use fireproofing magic himself and in the end simply wasn't there. Especially when Norbert(a) went Roy Mustang on Hagrid's hut and finished that journey in true Rambo fashion by melting into the jungle.
That's about it. If you can catch a spelling or a grammar mistake that I made in my haste, please tell me so I can correct it.
As always, review your heart out, it's always a pleasure writing this story.
RRRRREEEEEEEEEEEVIIIIIIIIIII IEEEEEEEEEEEEW!
Review!