Okay, so, yet another attempt at a Harry/Futaba fic cacked out. Go figure. It took me some time to find another angle that worked. I considered more than a few, before I decided to revisit an idea I had posted as a challenge, and had actually considered for a Persona 5 crossover. Basically, it involves a post-VATDP Harry ending up in Futaba's Palace, long before she would try to get the Phantom Thieves to change her heart. There'll be quite a few changes for the Persona 5 canon for this story. For one thing, Harry and Futaba will be resolving the latter's Palace at about the same time as Joker, Ryuji, Ann and Morgana are putting paid to Kamoshida. Let's just say I have a pretty awesome idea for how Harry and Futaba will take down Cognitive Wakaba.

Of course, there's no guarantee this will become a full fic. But one can hope, right?

While I mention this in the annotations for this chapter, some elements of this chapter, specifically the Cognitive Sojiro, were inspired by the excellent Persona 5: Unforgiven by JDubbs93. That fic deserves a LOT more love than it's currently getting, so all you Persona 5 fans, give it a go!

In addition, on a related note to Persona, I have recently done a oneshot as part of my annual Halloween oneshot tradition. It's a crossover between Harry Potter and Persona's parent franchise, Shin Megami Tensei. It's admittedly a fairly generic crossover as a oneshot, but I could eventually do more, either with the Potterverse, or maybe another crossover like My Hero Academia. If this interests you guys, look up 100 New Friends and More.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy...

40 THIEVES? I JUST NEED ONE WIZARD (REVISED)

CHAPTER 1:

WALK LIKE AN EGYPTIAN

Welcome to the Velvet Room.

Oh, do not be alarmed. My looks are doubtlessly rather strange, but I can assure you, I mean you no harm. Once we are done here, you will leave this realm behind, as if it were little more than a dream, like so many other guests. All sorts of guests pass through this realm.

And where is this realm, I hear you ask? Between what you think of as reality, and the realm of ideas, thoughts and dreams. It looks different to everyone. But there is always myself, your humble host, Igor.

But you do not have the touch of destiny about you. You are not a Wild Card, one who subverts fate and thwarts the plans of the mighty and the eldritch. Hmm, what to do with you?

Perhaps a story, then? I know many stories. Ah, but what to tell? Shall I tell you of the terrors of the Dark Hour and Tartarus? Or of the TV World, and a serial killer plaguing the town of Inaba? Or of the worlds where angels and demons clashed, caring little about humanity's fate? Of devils summoned through computer programs?

Ah! I know! I shall tell the tale of three Wild Cards. One was a bastard child of an ambitious politician, who misused his gifts for twisted ends. Another was an unassuming student with a heart of gold which nonetheless managed to get him into trouble.

And the third? Ah, I never managed to bring him into the Velvet Room, due to…interference. But he would have made a fine Wild Card. Someone who stood for justice, bringing people hope, and changing fate. But he was an often-lonely lad, one who was isolated by his fame.

I kept an eye on him, even when I had become a trifle…inconvenienced, shall we say? There was a wager, and the other gambler wished to stack the deck in their favour. But this young man, this wizard…he would help shape the lives of others for the better.

And soon, he would be drawn into that group of rogues you may know as the Phantom Thieves of Hearts.

That whetted your appetite, didn't it? You've heard of them by now, thanks to that quaint internet you humans created. Well, would you kindly attend to my words? Good. Then we may begin…

The closest he had ever come to a desert was film, TV, and seeing those photos the Weasleys sent back from Egypt. And Harry Potter could safely say that he found the experience highly overrated. Even with Cooling Charms and Aguamenti spells for water, he was hot and exhausted, and while he was distantly aware that one was supposed to find shelter during the day and travel only by night, he wasn't sure how he could make shelter in this featureless desert. Well, featureless, save for the town in the distance, squatting in the shadow of a massive pyramid.

He must've ended up in Egypt since falling through the Veil. Sirius hadn't been with him, and after calling for him for several minutes, Harry opted to try and find help. The distant town was his best hope, but the interminable trek gave him time to think.

The last year, no, the last few years at Hogwarts had been amongst his worst. Hell, for all its ups and downs, his first year had been his best at Hogwarts. From there, it seemed to slide from bad to worse in some slalom of shittiness. In his second year, there was Lockhart, the Basilisk, and the students shunning him for his Parseltongue abilities. In his third year, there were the Dementors, Ron and Hermione at each other's throats, and Snape being more of a dick than usual. In his fourth year, there was the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Ron's jealous snit, Skeeter's articles, and, of course, the resurrection of Voldemort.

And his fifth year? Harry wished he could forget it now. His friends and allies keeping him in the dark was bad enough, enough to inflame his temper. But the smear campaign? Umbridge and her Dementor-assisted assassination attempt? The dreams? The so-called Occlumency lessons that were really little more than Snape's excuse to mind-rape Harry within an inch of his sanity?

And then, the battle in the Department of Mysteries. For all that he was angry with Ron and Hermione, Harry was worried he had led them to their deaths, Ron being molested by weird brain things, and Hermione cursed by Dolohov. His only hope was that he was somewhere in Egypt, that somewhere, there was someone who could help him find Sirius and get back home.

He knew that he was being affected by the heat, and badly. The spells he used could only do so much. But he had to cling to something. He hoped he wasn't imagining things when he realised the town was getting closer…

He didn't know it, but he was being watched, by gazes both fair and foul. Deep within the pyramid sat the owner of one of those gazes, sitting on a stone throne in an unusual posture, her feet up on the seat, squatting down. Golden eyes peered at the holographic image of Harry Potter staggering through the desert, reflected in both the eyes and glasses, even as slender fingers tapped at a translucent keyboard of light.

Her lips pursed in thought and concern, an unusual expression on the usually impassive face. Her thoughts were even more chaotic. This one is no Shadow, nor is he a Cognition. An intruder? No, not intentionally, she thought. That expression is not just from heatstroke. It's bemusement, confusion, desperation. He thinks he knows where he is, but he's wrong.

She should ignore this. This place was her tomb. She just hadn't ceased breathing yet. It was none of her concern.

But she remembered something. For all that she sometimes even forgot herself, such was the conviction of her other self, she hadn't been responsible for her mother's death. And if this person was someone who simply stumbled across her tomb by accident…she didn't want to be responsible for his death. Hopefully, she could save him before the Shadows not under her command attacked him…or worse, the Cognition of her late mother roused from her slumber.

Plus, she had to admit, she was intrigued by him. A normal human, ending up in a Palace? And a teenager, about her age? She may be an echo, a Shadow of her other self, and share many of her neuroses and social anxieties (which has been in place long before her mother's demise, just exacerbated by it), but she also felt lonely.

With that decision, surprisingly easy though it was, her fingers tapped out a command on the keyboard. A warped, flanging voice reached her ears, one of her patrolling Shadows, a captain. "YES, MY PHARAOH?"

"There is a newcomer approaching the town. He seems unaware of the dangers," she replied. "Venture forth into the town and escort him here at once. Do not use force unless absolutely necessary. Instead, invite him to meet with me as an honoured guest."

"AND IF THE BANDITS ATTACK HIM?"

"Deal with them. Ensure that the newcomer sees you as allies."

"VERY WELL, PHARAOH. THY WILL BE DONE."

Yes, my will be done, she thought to herself morosely as the connection switched off. Except to free ourselves of this curse those monsters afflicted me with. Her eyes flickered over to the screen, showing the staggering teenager. Or maybe that's why I'm helping him. Maybe he can help me, help us. But can he?

His vision was swimming now, more than a little. Despite the spells he had used, he was badly affected. So it was with a relief that, as he staggered into the town, he found some shade and slumped into it, in the doorway of a building. Now the Cooling Charms were beginning to work a bit better, but he was fairly sure he had at least a touch of heatstroke. And probably more than a touch.

Still, he was here, in civilisation, he hoped. Buildings meant people, people meant someone might have a phone, even in this sandy arse-end of Egypt, and someone might know where Sirius is. The latter was admittedly a hell of a long shot, but he needed to cling to some hope.

Though he had to wonder where in Egypt he was. There was only one pyramid as far as he could tell, so it probably wasn't Giza. He was sure there were at least three if not more there. Ron had mentioned going to a few pyramids around Egypt, aside from Giza, so maybe this was one of them?

As he sat there contemplating this, a couple of shadows fell across him. He opened his eyes blearily to see a pair of rather thuggish-looking men holding scimitars, though he wasn't quite sure, given how bad his swimming vision was. Given their looks, any thought of them being friendly seemed dashed, but he decided not to make any assumptions. "'Scuse me…do any of you speak English?" he rasped. "I need help…some water, and if any of you guys have a telephone, I'd appreciate being able to use it."

The two thuggish-looking figures looked at each other, and then began laughing, their voices warped and flanging. Harry's vision cleared up a little, and he realised that, despite looking superficially like the stereotype of a desert bandit, they didn't look human, not wholly. "NO PHONES HERE, KID. IN FACT, YOU'RE SHIT OUT OF LUCK," one of them said. It then turned to its comrade. "HEY, WHAT DO YOU RECKON WE SHOULD DO WITH HIM?"

The other bandit shrugged. "EAT HIM. HE LOOKS HALF-COOKED ALREADY."

"…What?!" Harry yelped hoarsely, only to start coughing. God, his throat was dry.

"YEAH, SORRY, NOT SORRY, KID," the first 'bandit' said. "YOU'RE A LONG WAY FROM HOME, IN DEEP SHIT."

Harry sent them flying with a Depulsio, sending them crashing into a nearby building. He got shakily to his feet, not sure if he could run, given how woozy he was, but he might need to. But they got to their feet, and one of them snarled, "OH, THAT HURT, YOU LITTLE FUCK!"

"HUH. YOU CAN USE SPELLS, AND YET, YOU DON'T HAVE A PERSONA? NEAT. BUT IT WON'T SAVE YOU, YOU'RE PRACTICALLY DEAD ON YOUR FEET," the other mused.

"I'm not dead yet," Harry rasped, albeit with more bravado than true conviction.

"WELL, LET'S FIX THAT!" They seemed to convulse and burst in fountains of black and red goo, revealing…one had turned into a strange, small man with a metallic, moon-shaped head, a sack over his shoulder, while the other turned into a winged creature with the head of a lion.

Before Harry could attack the monsters, he was hit by another wave of dizziness, giving the winged creature enough time to send him flying with a blast of wind. He hit the wall hard with a sickening crack. Even as darkness began to ate at his vision, the creature pounced on him. "I'M GONNA CUT YOU UP SO FINE, THE WORMS WON'T HAVE TO CHEW," it snarled.

But then, the other monster screamed, "THE PHARAOH'S GUARDS! RUN!"

Harry felt the monster attacking him leap off him. He couldn't hear anything but the sounds of running steps coming up to him, and even then, that was the last thing he heard before oblivion took him…

The next thing he knew, he was waking up in what felt like a cool, air-conditioned room. He began to get up, only to nearly flop back down onto the bed. A hand caught him. "Easy there, kid," spoke a gruff but gentle voice. "You were lucky our guards rescued you. Rogue Shadows are dangerous enough at the best of times, but given your condition…well, we've healed you up now."

Harry blearily looked at the speaker, trying to discern who had spoken. It took a moment for him to grasp that, or indeed where he was. The walls were stone, and covered in hieroglyphs, and yet, there seemed to be computer screens, with even brief holographic images flickering in and out of existence. Harry realised with a start that some of the hieroglyphs weren't hieroglyphs at all, but letters and numbers he recognised. In fact, one set seemed to be in binary, if he didn't know any better.

The man who had spoken was another oddity. He seemed to be dressed in robes not unlike an Egyptian priest, and yet, his features were those of a Japanese man, he was sure, at least in his 40s if not his 50s, with a goatee and glasses. He was looking at Harry with wary concern.

"…Sorry, but…where am I? And who are you? I thought I was in Egypt, but…something's not quite right."

"Is it the anachronisms?" the man asked wryly. "But no, you're not in Egypt. You're…well, it's a bit difficult to explain. As for who I am, I am Hierophant Sojiro, the high priest and most trusted servant of our Pharaoh, whose tomb you currently reside in. As it is…I guess I should explain to you. I am technically not real, I'm what is known as a 'Cognition', but I have a little more self-awareness than most Cognitions, due to my original self's closeness to the Ruler of this domain. Thus, like her, I am aware of the nature of this reality."

"…Which is what?" Harry asked.

"A sort of dream world, a mental world," Sojiro said. "A Cognitive World, to be precise, and a warped one at that, known as a Palace. You're certainly nowhere near Egypt. I believe the Ruler of this Palace resides in Japan, along with my counterpart, her guardian. Rulers of Palaces have warped desires and impulses that twist in on themselves. But this isn't to say they are always malign. The Ruler of this Palace is filled with self-loathing and guilt, unwarranted, and yet…it exists regardless. Still, the Ruler saved your life from those rogue Shadows, and she would like to meet you. Honestly, I think she's genuinely curious about you."

"Okay, but…Shadows? You mean those monster things?"

"Yeah. They're creatures born of emotions, particularly negative ones, that take the form of creatures from myth and legend. Technically, Rulers are also Shadow versions of themselves, but remember, our Pharaoh does not intend to harm you. Give her a chance, okay?"

Harry grimaced. After everything he'd been through, trust was a little hard for him to give. But they had helped him, and he didn't seem like a prisoner, so he'd give them the benefit of the doubt for now.

Still, what was that Sojiro was saying? That this was a dream world? A mental world? He was kind of hoping Sojiro was lying. Not just because he wasn't sure how he was supposed to leave, even though that was a factor, and he was trying not to panic over that. Rather, because he had just dealt with Snape effectively raping his mind over the last year, he wouldn't want to inflict anything similar on anyone else.

He was led out of the room, with Sojiro, and led down a corridor, to a room. Sojiro let him enter first, making to announce him, only to stop and stare, as did Harry, at the sight in front of them. A familiar song reached Harry's ears…

"All the bazaar men by the Nile,

They got the money on a bet,

Gold crocodiles (oh-whey-oh!)

They snap their teeth on your cigarette…"

Harry was treated to the sight of what had to be the Pharaoh dancing in front of a holographic screen. She was doing her dance like an Egyptian figure, forearms perpendicular to the sides of her body. She seemed to be enjoying it in an understated way…

"Foreign types with the hookah pipes say

Whey-oh-whey-oh-whey-oh…

Walk like an Egyptian…"

Sojiro cleared his throat. The Pharaoh stilled, and then turned slowly to stare at them both, her features set in an impassive expression. After a lengthy, extremely awkward silence, she said, her voice warped and flanging, "You saw…NOTHING."

"…Saw what, my Pharaoh?" Sojiro asked, albeit with a wry smile on his lips.

Harry, meanwhile, scrutinised the Pharaoh. Like Sojiro, she seemed to be Japanese, or at least Oriental, though oddly enough, she also had long red hair. Her dress was also Egyptian, though while he expected the long skirt-like robes down the bottom, he wasn't sure if any female Pharaohs had little on their chest but wrappings and a large necklace, and he honestly felt a bit embarrassed about her appearance. She still wore some jewellery, like the aforementioned necklace, gold bangles and a coronet or tiara with a cobra at the front.

She seemed to be about his age, or a little younger, short and a bit on the scrawny side. She had quite cute features, though, but that was marred by the impassive expression and the golden eyes staring at them. Then again, she wore rather large glasses that seemed to offset the weirdness a little.

"You are awake," she said to him, and then, the faintest of smiles touched her lips. "I do not normally entertain visitors to my tomb, but I could not ignore your plight, and the Shadows in that town are not under my command. I am glad I could save your life. Still, who are you? Where did you come from? You can use magic without a Persona, it seems."

Harry scowled a little at her imperious words, delivered in a flat monotone, though she seemed to be glad he was alive. And considering he was in this mental world, well, it was a moot point. "I…I'm Harry Potter. Last thing I knew, I was in London. And what are you talking about when you mean I can use magic without a Persona?"

"…Interesting. You do not know what a Persona is." The Pharaoh walked up to him, scrutinising him, before nodding. "Well, as you have introduced yourself, it is only fitting I introduce myself. I am the Ruler of this Palace, the Pharaoh of this tomb. I am the Shadow of Futaba Sakura…"

CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:

So, here it is. Harry has ended up undergoing a Veil-Assisted Transdimensional Pratfall, and has ended up in Futaba Sakura's Palace. This may not necessarily be a bad thing for both parties. But where's Sirius?

Of course, I don't own the lyrics to Walk Like an Egyptian, which was performed by The Bangles and written by Liam Sternberg. But honestly, what else would Shadow Futaba be dancing to? Especially as I am sure Futaba would be a JoJo's Bizarre Adventure fan, and she probably heard it on the ending credits of the Stardust Crusaders arc of the anime.

Now, to discuss what happened in the chapter, specifically the characterisation of Shadow Futaba, and the inclusion of a Cognitive Sojiro. It's baffling we never see Sojiro in any shape or form in Futaba's Palace in the game, especially as he is her paternal figure in her life. I guess she sent any Cognitions away when awaiting her demise. I was inspired by Persona 5: Unforgiven by JDubbs93, which has a Cognitive Sojiro save the main character's life. I should point out that, despite being one of the best Persona 5 fics I have ever read, it has surprisingly few favourites, and I hope you guys can change that. I thought it also interesting to have a Cognition who was aware of what he was.

As for Shadow Futaba's characterisation, keep in mind, she is one of the least malevolent Shadow Selves in the entire game, or indeed, the franchise. While she does attack the Phantom Thieves, a lot of that, IMO, is due to Futaba's worsening mental stability and her lack of faith in anyone being able to help her. In addition, this chapter is set in late March in the Persona-verse, some time before the game proper begins, so Futaba's only just begun her downward spiral, as Sojiro's words indicate that she only truly started having hallucinations of her mother around the time the game begun.

But what would happen when a lone interloper who seems to have little clue about what's happening comes in? Someone about her age? Her curiosity wins out over her caution.

As to why she knows about Palaces and Personas, well, regular Futaba, thanks to reading up on her mother's work, seems to grasp many concepts around them quickly. It's not unreasonable to believe that Shadow Futaba not only has the same knowledge, but has learned of Palaces and Personas from the regular Shadows. After all, who's to say the Shadows don't retain any memory of events of previous games in the series, or even have innate knowledge in the first place? Other Palace Rulers probably wouldn't care enough to enquire and learn, but Shadow Futaba doubtlessly retains her other self's curiosity and thirst for knowledge.

She's also aware that she is a Shadow Self, unlike the other Rulers in Persona 5, at least as far as I know. I'm only up to Okumura in the game. And considering how Shadow Selves become Personas not only in Futaba's case, but for most Personas in Persona 4, it's not unreasonable for her to have that innate knowledge in the first place. Not to mention that Shadow Futaba becomes the Necronomicon, aka a tome of forbidden knowledge.

Anyway, you do have to wonder what the Palace Rulers get up to behind closed doors on their downtime when Phantom Thieves aren't intruding. I don't think it'd be a mystery what either Kamoshida or Kaneshiro do: the former would fuck someone, and the later would probably take Scrooge McDuck-style swims in his own Money Bin. Madarame, despite his ego and vanity, would probably spend the time admiring artworks, and not just those of his pupils, but others around the world. With Shadow Futaba, it'd probably be not unlike her other self, only slightly more active. She's still an anhedonic depressed mess, but there are times when she just tries to enjoy herself.

No numbered annotations this time.