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.

Errand of Mercy

The silence of the evening was broken as the Knight Bus appeared with a sudden crack. The door swung out, and Professor Filius Flitwick stepped out.

He looked around the neighbourhood, frowning. Little Whinging was one of the most banal communities he'd ever seen in his life. Row after row of nearly identical houses, differing only in the colour of their trim and the fact that half of them were built on a mirrored plan. Same one-car garage and long driveway leading up to it; same plot of land as a front yard; same bay window in the front of each house, overhanging the same neatly trimmed hedges. It seemed impossible that one of the most famous wizards of the twentieth century lived in this soulless cookie-cutter suburb.

The Knight Bus vanished again with a crack, and Flitwick began walking down Privet Drive, examining the numbers on the doors as he did so. Same brass numbers in the same spot on every door. It didn't take him long to reach number four. He paused, and looked up and down the street, then drew his wand. A quietly muttered charm produced a brief glow of light from the house. He turned up the walkway, and knocked on the door.

There was some muffled muttering from the other side, and the door opened, to reveal a very large man. Vernon Dursley was relatively tall, but his considerable girth was what lent him the impression of size and power. His face shifted to an angry glower as his gaze moved down to rest on the diminutive Professor.

"What is it?"

"I am here to pay a visit to Mr Harry Potter," said Flitwick. "I understand that he resides here?"

"He's not here," said Vernon. He moved to close the door in Flitwick's face, but paused when Flitwick drew his wand. "What the hell're you doing? Put that away before someone sees."

"Mr Potter is certainly within this house," said Flitwick. "I have cast a charm to reveal his location." Actually, it had only revealed that there were four people in the house, one of whom was somewhere upstairs, but there was no reason to confuse the fat Muggle.

"You can't just—"

"Mr Dursley," said Flitwick. "You are trying my patience. I am a Hogwarts Head of House, and that means that I have a duty of care towards my students. Now, move aside."

Harry was lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, when he heard the door unlock and the doorknob turn. He sat up quickly as the door swung open to reveal Professor Flitwick, who was looking up at Harry with a concerned expression on his face.

"Professor? What are you doing here?"

"I came to look in on you," said the Professor. "One of my Ravenclaws was concerned that you weren't answering the letters you wrote. She asked me to look in on you."

"One of your Ravenclaws?"

"Yes. Hotaru Tomoe. She's in your year."

"She remembered me? She wrote to me?" Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Why? I mean, we only talked the once."

"I believe that you made a considerable impression upon her," said the Professor. "But for the moment, we need to remove you from this place." He glanced around the room. "Bars on your window? And they've locked up your owl. And a cat-flap on the door! How long have you been like this?"

"Two days now," said Harry. "They said they'd never let me out. They said I'd be expelled."

Flitwick's expression hardened, and Harry felt himself shying away. However, Flitwick simply glanced around the room again.

"Is there anything in here that you'll be needing, Harry?"

"No, Sir," said Harry. "All my robes are in my school trunk. That's in the cupboard under the stairs. There's some Muggle clothing in there, too."

"What about your school books?"

"Locked under the stairs as well, Sir. Sorry."

"No need to apologize, Mr Potter. This was clearly not your doing. Come along."

Harry followed Professor Flitwick down the stairs. The Professor turned to the cupboard, drew his wand, and pointed at the padlock on the door.

"Alohomora!"

The padlock popped open.

"Sir, won't that get me in trouble?" asked Harry. "I mean, a House-Elf cast a Hover Charm in here on Wednesday. And I got a letter from the Misuse of Magic Office."

"A House-Elf?" Flitwick turned to face him. "Why was there a House-Elf in a Muggle house?"

"He came to warn me, Sir," said Harry. "He said that bad things were going to happen at Hogwarts this year."

Professor Flitwick studied him closely, then sighed. "I will floo Madam Hopkirk when I get back to the castle, and inform her that you did not perform magic on Wednesday. As it is, I will need to contact her to tell her it was me performing magic today.

"Now then. Your things." He turned to the door, and gave his wand a swish and flick. Harry's trunk levitated out the door of the cupboard. Professor Flitwick, however, stopped and stared into the cupboard.

"Why is there a mattress in here?"

"If you know what's good for you, boy—"

"Shut up, Dursley," snapped Flitwick, and to Harry's surprise, his uncle fell silent. Flitwick turned back to the cupboard. He picked up a small tin soldier from the shelf. A shelf that was at a convenient height for him. Or for a small boy.

"This is appalling," he growled. He turned to face Uncle Vernon. "To think that you would treat this boy in this way—"

"We never wanted him here," snapped Vernon. "You lot dropped him off like a sack of groceries—"

"Where is your wife?" asked Flitwick.

"Eh?" Vernon blinked. "She's out with Dudley. Why?"

"Because it was your wife who allowed Harry to stay, was it not?" Flitwick took a step towards Uncle Vernon, and to Harry's surprise, Vernon fell back. "She knew about the protective magics that keep this house safe."

"Sorry, Sir," said Harry. "What protective magics?"

"Professor Dumbledore put a charm on this house to protect its residents from evil magic," said Professor Flitwick. "So long as you call this place home, and stay here at least two weeks out of every year, the charm remains in place." Flitwick turned back to Uncle Vernon. "And that charm is weakening, because you have given Harry no reason to consider this place a home."

"So what do I care if some freaky magic thingy comes apart?" blustered Vernon. "The sooner the better, I say."

"Idiot!" snapped Flitwick. "Did you not hear me say that these magics protect you? While they stand, no wizard or witch, nor any other being of magic, may approach with intent to harm any person who lives in this house!" He leveled his wand at Vernon. "Were it not for that charm, I could blast you into pieces right now! Is that what you want?"

Harry gaped at the normally friendly and exciteable Professor. At the moment, he seemed almost a completely different person.

Vernon, on the other hand, fell back, his hands raised, a look of terror on his face. Flitwick lowered his wand slowly.

"I will be taking Mr Potter with me now. He will return at the end of the school year, and remain for precisely fifteen days. You will not abuse him in any way. If you would consider threatening Mr Potter with harm if he does not keep silent, you should know that wizards and witches can view a person's memory. Am I understood?"

Vernon nodded mutely, a fearful expression still on his face.

"Harry, if you would take your owl, we'll get you out of here."

"Set her down here for a moment, Mr Potter. I do believe we'll take a bit of a rest before I summon the Knight Bus."

"Yes, Sir." Harry had no idea what the Knight Bus was, but his head was still awhirl with the events of the evening. He set down Hedwig's cage, then watched, still confused, as Professor Flitwick floated his trunk to the kerb before allowing it to settle. "Sir...doesn't this break a rule? I thought Professor Binns said that Muggles couldn't know about magic."

"You actually paid attention in History of Magic?" Flitwick chuckled. "Perhaps you belong in my House."

"I paid attention to Hermione, Sir."

"Well, regardless. Do you see any Muggles about, Mr Potter?"

"No, Sir."

"Well, there's your answer, then," said the Professor. "No Muggles, no violation of the Statute of Secrecy." He sat down on the trunk, his feet leaving the ground entirely as he did so. "You might consider writing Miss Tomoe. She was quite concerned about you."

"She was?"

"Indeed. She came to the conclusion based on some of the things you said, plus your general appearance, that you were being neglected, possibly even abused. I don't think she'd mind me telling you that she approached me concerning it." He sighed. "Unfortunately, I did not feel that she had sufficient evidence to warrant investigating myself. I mentioned it to Professor Dumbledore, but all he did was tell me about the charms he placed on the house. For that, I am sorry."

"It's all right," said Harry mechanically.

"No, it is not," snapped Flitwick. "No child deserves this sort of neglect. So when she wrote to me—" He paused. "That reminds me. A House-Elf?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "A House-Elf called Dobby. He wouldn't tell me who he works for, just that they have a plan to make—" He raised his fingers in air quotes. "—'Most terrible things happen at Hogwarts.'".

"I will do my best to look into that," said the Professor. He hopped back to his feet. "But for now: I shall be taking you to the Weasleys, as they expressed a willingness to host you for the remainder of the summer." He drew his wand. "Might want to take a step back, Mr Potter. The Knight Bus arrives with a bang."