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.
Breakfast at the Burrow
Harry awoke with a start, the remnants of a haunting nightmare still lingering, its icy grip refusing to release his racing heart. He fumbled for his glasses, jamming them on his face, then grabbed a pad of paper and byro.
"Whass goin on?"
He'd awakened Ron, who was looking around blearily. Harry finished writing, then said, "Just had a nightmare, that's all."
"Why you writing?" asked Ron, rubbing his eyes
"I wanted to write down what I saw so I don't forget," said Harry. "It was about Voldemort, and I'm not sure that it was just a dream. There was a blonde woman there—"
A sudden banging on the door made him jump.
"Up and at it, boys! We have a five-oh-seven portkey to catch!"
Harry glanced at his watch—a birthday present from Hotaru—and realized that it was four in the morning. Mr Weasley had warned him that they'd be leaving early.
Ron stretched, then swung his gangly legs over the edge of his bed. He'd gained almost six inches of height in the last two months, much to his dismay—most of his clothes no longer fit, and his co-ordination seemed to be affected as well. "Best get moving, Harry. There'll be a line-up for the shower."
Harry jumped up and grabbed his towel.
Mrs Weasley's breakfast spread, as always, made the table groan under its weight, and it looked like there was no room around it for Harry. Aside from the Twins, Ginny, Ron and their parents, there were two additional redheads. Harry recognized one as Charlie, who had come to collect Norbert way back in his first year, which meant that the other must be Bill.
Bill was, to put it bluntly, exceptionally cool. His dragonhide leather jacket and boots exuded a certain edge, and he wore a dragon fang as an earring. His long hair was swept back into a ponytail.
"It really would look better with a trim, Bill," Mrs Weasley commented with a touch of disapproval.
"Lay off, Mother," chuckled Bill. "The birds like my hair."
"And when are you going to settle down and get married? I'm not getting any younger, you know."
Bill caught Harry's gaze, and rolled his eyes. Then offered a hand.
"Bill Weasley."
"Harry Potter." He shook the man's hand. Bill let out a laugh.
"Like you need to introduce yourself." He waved a hand towards the various younger Weasleys. "This lot has already told me all about you."
"It's all lies," said Harry quickly, causing Bill to laugh even harder.
Hermione rushed down the stairs, her hair still damp and a towel still slung over her shoulder. "Is there still food? Only, Ron's made it to the breakfast table..."
Her remark elicited more chuckles, and Ron turned as red as his hair.
"Eat quickly, Weasleys and guests," called Mr Weasley. "We don't have too long."
The sky to the east was just beginning to lighten as the nine of them set out from the Burrow. A faint mist rose from the ground, just thick enough to notice, but nowhere near enough to impede their vision. Their path led them up a shallow hill, away from the nearby village.
"Percy doesn't much care for Quidditch," Ron was saying, "and neither does Mum. So they're staying at home. Charlie and Bill were going to have a lie-in, since they can apparate, but Dad forgot and woke them up too."
"What's apparate?" asked Harry.
"They can disappear from one place and appear at another." Ron grinned. "Can't wait 'till we learn. You gotta take a Ministry-approved course and pass a test before you're allowed to do it. It's too easy to make a mistake, and leave part of yourself behind."
"Sounds painful," said Hermione.
"It is," agreed Ron. "Or so I've heard, anyway. Dad had a case once where someone splinched off their foot. They managed to get it re-attached, but he was screaming bloody murder all the time."
Hermione and the older Weasleys—Bill, Charlie and their father—were in the lead, but Bill slowed down until Harry caught up with him.
"Hermione tells me you've got another friend who'll be joining us?"
"Hotaru," confirmed Harry. "She was visiting Japan until two days ago. Her and her father will be taking a caravan to the campsite."
"What's a caravan?" asked Ron.
"You know your dad's car?" asked Harry. "Imagine that, but bigger, with beds and a kitchen. Basically a house on wheels."
"Her father's a Muggle, though, isn't he?" asked Bill.
"Yeah," said Harry, frowning. "What's that got to do with anything?"
"The stadium will be charmed so that a Muggle won't want to approach it," said Bill. "Of course, he's aware of magic, so he might be able to resist the charm. But there's a good chance that he won't be able to watch the game."
"Knowing Tomoe-sensei, that would disappoint him," said Harry. "But also knowing him, he'd take it as a challenge."
Ron looked a bit confused. "You called him Souichi-sensei before. What's his name exactly?"
"His name is Tomoe Souichi," said Harry. "In Japan, they put their family name first, but when here in Britain, they flip it, and put their given name first."
"Then what's -sensei?"
"It means Professor," said Harry. "It's just...the Japanese way of doing things."
"You speak Japanese, Harry?" asked Bill.
"A bit," admitted Harry. "Hotaru says it's like talking to a rather clever six-year-old. I'm getting better, though."
"A second language—third, in your case—is a good thing. Keep at it."
Harry sighed. Did everybody know he was a Parselmouth?
"Hullo, Amos!"
Harry looked up, to see two men approaching them. Or more correctly, a man and a boy. Harry recognized Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker. Though taller and lankier than Harry, the boy had proven an excellent flier, his heavier mass offset by his agility in the air.
"Good morning, Arthur!" called the other man. Harry guessed that his name was Amos Diggory. "Ready for a great game?" He glanced over the rest of their party. "Good gravy! You've brought the whole clan, I see."
Mr Weasley chuckled. "Not all of them are mine. Hermione Granger and Harry Potter are my guests."
"Oh, well, I've heard about these two," chuckled Mr Diggory. "Ms Granger is topping her year for grades, I hear. And of course, who hasn't heard of Harry Potter?" He elbowed Cedric. "Something to tell your grandkids about, eh, Cedric? Only game you ever lost was to Harry Potter?"
"Knock it off, Da," complained Cedric.
"Have you found the portkey yet?"
"No," admitted Mr Diggory. "We just arrived, same as you."
"It's over here," called Charlie. "We've got four minutes still."
The eleven of them gathered around the portkey. Harry was immediately unimpressed.
"It's a manky old boot!"
"Well, we can't have portkeys looking at all valuable," objected Arthur. "Can you imagine a Muggle picking one up when it goes off? That would be a nightmare to deal with."
"You do know, Sir, that Muggles frequently will clean up an area?" asked Hermione. "They'll come in with rubbish bags and pick up anything that shouldn't be there. Like a manky old boot."
"Well, yes," admitted Mr Weasley. "But that's why we put Muggle-repelling charms on portkeys." He checked his watch. "One minute to go. Everybody, get a hand on the boot. Even just a finger will do."
They huddled around the boot, each trying to get a hand on it. Harry managed to get a finger hooked in the boot's cuff.
"Ten seconds."
Harry tensed, not having any clue what was about to happen.
"And...activate!"
He felt as though a fish-hook had been inserted into his belly button, and then yanked. His feet left the ground, and he felt as though he were hurtling through the sky. His vision blurred, and he could barely see Ron, who had been just to his left, or Ginny, immediately to his right. He was just starting to panic when he fell to the ground, knocking the wind out of his lungs.
All around him, Weasleys (and Hermione) were strewn across the grass. Cedric, Mr Diggory and Mr Weasley, however, were slowly settling out of the air, their feet moving as though they were walking down a staircase.
"There's a trick to it," said Mr Diggory brightly. "You'll get the hang of it over time."
"That's one more form of magical travel that I hate," complained Harry.
"Five-oh-seven from Stoatshead Hill," called a voice. Harry turned, to see a man with a clipboard. He was dressed most oddly—a kilt and a poncho. Another man, nearby, was wearing a tweed suit, with thigh-length galoshes.
"Come on, clear the stage," the man said irritably. "We've got another arriving in four minutes." He strode into the midst of them, picked up the boot, and tossed it into a nearby bin.
"Good morning, Basil," said Mr Weasley cheerfully.
"Morning, Arthur," said Basil. "You staying overnight?"
"Yes," said Mr Weasley. "You should have us down for a double."
"Right...you're next door to a Mr...Tom-we?"
"To-mo-e," Harry said.
Basil frowned at him, then turned back to Mr Weasley. "Well, it's a quarter mile that way. Ask for a Mr Roberts." He made a note on his clipboard. "Hurry along, you lot. I don't want the Finnegans landing on top of you. They're Irish; it won't end well."
Harry grabbed his pack and shouldered it, and the Weasleys moved off. Cedric waved as he and his father went in a different direction; apparently, their campsite was some distance away.
"So this...er...Tomoe chap?" Mr Weasley looked quite excited. "What does he do for a living?"
"He's a Professor," said Harry. "I don't know what he teaches, but I know it's something related to robots."
"Fascinating," said Mr Weasley. "And...er...what's a robot?"
Harry had a feeling that Tomoe-sensei was in for a long night.