Kindred Spirits
by Tailkinker
This is a work of fan fiction based on the Harry Potter series and the Sailor Moon franchise created respectively by J.K. Rowling and Naoko Takeuchi. The characters and settings belong to their respective owners and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and should not be considered as part of the official canon of either series.
Arrivals New And Old
Harry realized with a shock that this was the first Sorting he'd witnessed since his own, three years ago. It was an altogether different feeling, sitting with one's House and applauding as the first student sorted, "Ackerley, Stewart," was placed into Ravenclaw. Perhaps it was the lack of nerves. He remembered feeling somewhat queasy, and glancing over the new first year students, he guessed that many of them felt the same.
He noted with interest one first-year, not yet Sorted, who was dripping wet and wrapped in Hagrid's coat. Despite the fact that he was obviously freezing, he was grinning from ear to ear. That kid looks familiar, Harry said to himself.
"Creevey, Dennis!"
Ah, that would be why, thought Harry as the boy was sorted into Gryffindor. He watched, amused, as the small boy ran over to sit next to his brother.
"Hope he doesn't have a camera," said Ron, grinning.
"You never know," said Harry. "He might have an even more irritating hobby." Colin Creevey might drive him to distraction with his constant photography and overabundant enthusiasm, but he was a likeable kid. His younger brother seemed to be cut from the same cloth.
He allowed his gaze to wander across the Head Table. Professors Flitwick, Snape and Sprout, the other three Heads of Houses, were already present and seated. He saw Professor Vector, who taught Arithmancy, trying to sneak in quietly. Hagrid sat in his massive chair at the end of the Head Table. There were two empty chairs. He knew that the one next to Dumbledore was Professor McGonagall's, and that she'd take it when she completed the Sorting.
The other chair had most recently belonged to Professor Lupin, and Harry felt a spike of anger at that. Somebody—probably Professor Snape, who had good reason to dislike Lupin—had let slip that Lupin was a werewolf. As soon as this became known, Lupin had resigned. He'd told Harry that it was better than being fired.
I just hope that whoever the new Professor is, he's half the teacher that Moony was.
The Sorting continued, until "Whitby, Kevin!" was sorted into Hufflepuff. Professor McGonagall picked up the Hat and the stool and left the Hall. At the Head Table, Professor Dumbledore stood.
"Good evening, students new and old! I have many important announcements to make, but children are always hungry. Dig in!"
He clapped his hands, and the tables were covered in serving dishes. The noise level immediately rose in the hall as students excitedly reached for the food. Harry grinned; this trick only happened at major feasts. On other days, foodstuffs tended to pop in and out at random.
"We're lucky there was a feast at all tonight." The Gryffindor House ghost, Sir Nicholas, floated towards them. "Given the amount of chaos in the kitchen tonight."
"Why?" asked Harry. "What happened?"
"Peeves, of course," said Sir Nicholas. "Came in and started knocking pots all over the place, whether or not there was anything cooking in them. Scared the House Elves nearly senseless."
Hermione paused, a gravy ladle in her hands. "There are House Elves here? At Hogwarts?"
"Well, of course," said Sir Nicholas. "Can't run a castle this size without them, could you? Hogwarts probably has the largest population of House Elves in Great Britain."
"But do they get paid? Do they receive vacation days—"
"Hermione," said Harry sharply. "You're asking the wrong question." He turned to the ghost. "Sir Nicholas. If any of these House Elves wished to leave, would they be free to do so?"
"Of course!" said Sir Nicholas. "Those who work at Hogwarts do so because they wish to."
Harry turned and looked at Hermione. The girl sighed, her head dropping a bit.
"I...well...I suppose it's fine then." She dumped some gravy on her chicken.
"Suppose she needs to spend some more time with a House Elf," said Ron thoughtfully. "And not Dobby. As House Elves go, he's a weirdo."
Harry set down his fork—there wasn't enough treacle tart left on his plate to be worth chasing—and glanced across the Great Hall. He caught Hotaru's eye, and grinned. The girl was sitting next to the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang, and was chattering excitedly with her. It was the most animated that he'd seen Hotaru in a while, and he felt a glow of warmth at seeing it.
Cho Chang was a pretty girl, and a skilled flier and Seeker. She'd come far too close to beating Harry to the Snitch the previous year. But Harry had taken notes during the Quidditch World Cup. Victor Krum had pulled some really clever moves, and Harry was looking forward to trying them out this year.
On the other side of Hotaru was a girl he didn't know; Hotaru had spent some time talking with her as well. This girl gave off a distinct aura of oddness—her earrings were oddly shaped and coloured, and she appeared to be wearing a cork as a neclace. Her wand was tucked behind one ear, protruding from her blonde hair. Harry suspected that this was the girl that Hotaru had mentioned, back in second year, the one being teased by her House. He couldn't remember her name, though.
Hotaru, who had few friends when he first met her, now seemed to have quite a few.
He glanced further along the Hall, to spot Draco Malfoy. There were empty seats to either side of him. It appeared that his House was giving him the cold shoulder. Draco appeared to be taking it stoically, however.
Further reflection was cut off, however, as Professor Dumbledore stood.
"Another excellent feast. And with that out of our way, I can now get to our announcements."
Harry leaned forward, excitedly. Draco had flat-out refused to tell them what he knew, claiming he didn't want to spoil the surprise.
"First off," said Dumbledore, "I would like to remind students that magic is not to be practiced outside of classrooms. Also, Mr Filch has expanded the list of banned items; the complete list can be found outside of his office.
"As I feel I must point out every year, the Forbidden Forest is forbidden. One would think that the name alone would give it away."
"And I am afraid that I must announce that this year, the intramural Quidditch Cup will not be held."
That produced a lot of angry noise, mostly from the older students. Professor Dumbledore raised his hands for silence, and Harry was surprised to see that it took a few seconds for him to receive it.
"I know that this is not welcome news for many of you, but I trust you'll be—"
Professor Dumbledore was interrupted again, however, as the main doors to the Great Hall opened. The man who limped in drew every eye.
"What happened to him?" whispered Hermione.
Indeed, the man's face looked as though Professor Lupin had used him as a chew toy. His face was covered in scars, and most of his nose was gone. One of his eyes was nearly grown over with scar tissue, and the other was gone—replaced by a large, electric-blue orb that spun wildly in its socket. The sight of it gave Harry a sense of unease.
The man walked up the center of the Great Hall, and murmurs and whispers followed him. Students exchanged puzzled glances, their curiosity piqued by the man's disfigured appearance. As the man drew nearer to them, Harry realized that one of his legs was artificial, producing a loud clunk with every step.
"Ah," said Dumbledore. "Students, please join me in welcoming our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Alastor Moody."
The applause was shocked and scattered, many students not knowing what to make of the new Professor. Ron whispered to Harry, "That's Mad-Eye Moody. He's a legend in the Auror Corps. Thought he was retired, though."
"Auror Corps?" asked Harry.
"They're professional Dark Wizard Hunters," explained Ron.
Moody was shaking Professor Dumbledore's hand. They spoke quietly, too quietly for Harry to hear, and then the man sat down in the empty chair. Rather than take a goblet from the table, however, he pulled a hip flask out of his pocket and drank from that.
"Well," continued Dumbledore. "As I was saying. After much discussion with other institutions of magical learning, the Ministry of Magic has decided to once again hold the Tri-Wizard Tournament—"
"You're joking!" yelled Fred Weasley.
"I assure you, I am not, Mr Weasley," chuckled Dumbledore. "Though I did hear a good one from Ludo Bagman about a three-legged Beater—"
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.
"—but perhaps now is not the time." This produced chuckles from the students. "Unlike previous Tournaments, however, there will be four schools taking part in this Tournament, and for that reason, the Ministry has elected to rename it to the International Challenge.
"Aside from our own Hogwarts, the schools that will be participating in the International Challenge are Durmstrang, Beauxbatons and Mahoutokoro."
Magic School, Harry's brain translated automatically. Then he realized what that meant. His eyes flew across the room to meet Hotaru's.
She was looking back at him, her expression guarded, and he realized why. More English than Japanese, she'd called herself more than once. And while she enjoyed visiting Japan, she admitted she never felt at home there. Having Japanese students here might be unsettling to her, especially if they expected her to act more Japanese.
Harry knew that she was lying to herself, at least a bit. Many of her mannerisms were simply not British—her preference for bowing, with her hands clasped in front of her; her quiet and reserved speech, often speaking with her eyes lowered; even the way she held her tea cup. She seemed determined to try to blend in, probably because of the bullying she'd suffered for not blending in, but some things simply set her apart, without her even knowing it.
It made him quite uneasy to consider the effect a horde of Japanese students roaming the halls of Hogwarts might have on her.