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.

Reflections in Transit

Hotaru gaped at the bag of coins. "Draco...This is...it's too much!"

Draco frowned. "Surely your Muggle tent thing was worth a lot of money?"

"The caravan?" Hotaru glanced up at him. "Yes, it was, but the Ministry fixed all that. They even convinced the rental company that the fire was caused by their own shoddy maintenance." She glanced down at the bag again. "So really, all we lost were a few changes of clothes, and a book I liked."

"Well, I promised you that gold." Draco sat down next to Ron, to the latter's obvious displeasure. "Oh, calm down, Weasley. I don't bite." He glanced back at Hotaru. "Take it. I can't take it back. It was more than a bit of a fight to get it in the first place."

"What do you mean?" Harry was seated next to Hotaru; Hermione was across from him, next to Ron.

Draco scowled. "I...may have given my father a serve about being a Death Eater."

That produced silence in the compartment, broken only by the clickety-clack of the wheels on the rails, and a brief whistle from Hotaru's buzzard.

"Okay," said Harry. "Start from the beginning, and don't leave anything out."

Draco considered for a moment, then said, "It started with me telling Father that he destroyed a tent that belonged to a friend of mine."

"I'm a friend, now?" Hotaru grinned.

"Not if you interrupt me," scowled Draco. "He asked how I knew it was him, and I told him that it was because he said he was going after it specifically. Well, that clued him in that I meant Hotaru—or as he put it, 'That mudblood slant.' Sorry," he said to Hotaru.

Hotaru waved it off. "I've heard worse."

"Well, I then told him that you'd also been hurt by the diary. But I guess he never told Mother about that, because she immediately asked, 'What diary?'" He shook his head. "More fool I, I told her exactly whose diary it was, and what it did.

"Well, she did her nut. Screamed at Father for endangering me, and then screamed at me for befriending a mudblood. I told her that Hotaru was top of Charms, and that Hermione was top of everything else."

"Not true anymore," said Hermione morosely. "Now that we've had a competent Defence teacher, Harry's beating me there."

Draco snorted. "Yeah, but my specialty is potions, and you're beating the pants off me there. Now hush.

"Anyway, I told Father that Hotaru healed me on a couple of occasions, so we owed her for that. Then I told him that every time he'd done something to support the Dark Lord, he'd come off worse for it, and maybe he should reconsider.

"Well, that was when Mother really lost it. She's a true daughter of Black, so she straight up refuses to hear anything that smacks of Blood Treason. But then I dropped the bombshell that the Dark Lord was a half-blood.

"And Father said he knew that," chuckled Draco. "Said that Grandpa Abraxas went to school with him. But I guess Mother didn't, because she got that look." Draco grinned at Harry. "You know the one? You've seen it."

Harry grinned. "The one where it looks like she's got something that smells nasty right under her nose, yeah?"

"That's the one," said Draco. "And then she stormed off."

He sighed. "The last couple of weeks haven't been fun. Mother and Father refuse to talk to each other. Our House Elves are all loyal to either one or the other, and so I've been stuck acting like a bloody mail owl." He shook his head. "I don't know what they're going to do, now that I've left for school."

Harry actually felt bad for him. Sure, he'd no love for his aunt and uncle, and they'd never really fought, that he'd seen, but he could imagine how it would destroy Dudley if they did.

"Is that why you're in here with us?" asked Hermione. "Rather than with Crabbe and Goyle?"

Draco snorted. "I kicked those two to the kerb. I can't trust them to do anything right." He sighed. "I'm going to have to talk really quickly to the rest of my House. I plan on supporting you lot." He waved a hand, encompassing all four of them. "But I'll need your support in return. And especially, I need you to stay top of your subjects." He paused. "Except you, Weasley."

"Why not me?" objected Ron.

"Because you're a Pureblood. Father told me that if you lot continue to out-perform everybody, then he'll maybe consider my point. So don't let me down."

"But hey," said Ron. "No pressure."

Draco snorted. "No, it really isn't. Hotaru has some sort of natural talent with Charms, makes them look easy. Granger soaks up knowledge like a sponge. And Potter is simply ridiculously powerful."

"No, I'm not," objected Harry.

"Yes, you are," chorused Ron, Hermione and Hotaru.

"I think that this was what finally convinced me that the pure-blood agenda was wrong," mused Draco. "The three most powerful wizards I've even heard of are all half-bloods. Dumbledore, the Dark Lord, and Harry Potter."

Draco was a fairly decent chess player, and Ron had pulled him into a game. Hotaru was spending some quality time with her mail buzzard. Therefore, it was left to Harry to fill them in on the final events of the World Cup riot.

"I've still got no idea who she was," confessed Harry. "Draco thought that she might be an Unspeakable, because she could conceal her identity. But apparently, they always wear their uniforms, so people know what they are, though not who."

"Plus, they're researchers," said Draco. "They aren't typically very skilled in combat. This woman seemed to be." He shook his head. "No, I quickly dismissed that idea."

"Can you describe her staff again?" asked Hermione.

"Not really," Harry said. "It was silver, and there was a red bit at one end, but other than that, I can't tell you anything."

"Why not?" asked Ron. He had one eye on the chessboard, but more of his attention was now on the discussion.

"She had some sort of magic that made it impossible to...well, to focus on her face, and to remember anything." Harry shrugged. "I can see some details, like the fact that her hair was long and dark coloured, and that her skin was darker than mine. That magic also concealed her staff."

"She might be a member of some secret society," suggested Hermione. "Like the Death Eaters, but using magic to conceal themselves instead of masks."

"Whatever the case," said Harry, "she blasted that Death Eater a couple of times, until he ran away. So she's clearly not a fan."

"Doesn't mean she's on our side," said Hermione. "The enemy of my enemy is not always my friend." She frowned. "If she wasn't wearing Unspeakable robes, then you know what she was wearing?"

"That's kind of fuzzy too," said Harry. "I remember a skirt. Green and white."

"Does that really matter?" asked Ron.

"You never know what details will prove important," pointed out Hermione.

Hotaru stopped petting her buzzard, and grabbed her bookbag. She pulled her sketchbook out of the bag and flipped it open. She'd done a rough sketch of the woman, leaving the face blank. "This was the best I could do," she said. "Where were the colours, Harry?"

"Um..." Harry frowned as he stared at the sketch. "Skirt was green. Not that green," he said, as she reached for the brighter green pencils. "Very dark green." He nodded as she picked up the darkest green in her set. "And the shoulders...I think she had some sort of short cape. It was green as well."

"Capes aren't practical," grumbled Hermione. "Why would she have something like that?"

"No idea," said Harry. "Unless it has some magical property."

"She had a red bow on her chest," supplied Draco. "I remember that."

"White gloves and dark boots," added Harry. "Her skin was darker than her gloves, but lighter than her skirt and boots. Can't remember the colours, though."

Hotaru set down her pencils, and turned the sketch back towards them. It portrayed the woman, her face still blank, though Hotaru had clearly remembered a glint of gold at her brow. Her skirt was more than merely short; it barely kept her modest. Hotaru had coloured it a dark forest green, and used the same colour at her shoulders. She'd coloured the woman's boots the same shade as well, and had shaded the exposed skin—her thighs and upper arms, and her face. The staff was little more than a silver line with a red dot at one end.

"Yeah, that's as good as I can remember. Better, really; between you, me and Draco, I think that's the best picture we're going to get."

Hotaru nodded, and closed the sketchbook. "I'm going to ask Professor Flitwick about her," she said. "If he can't help, we'll ask some other Professors."

"Right," agreed Harry. He leaned back again. "Anyway, after she chased off the Death Eater, she told us it was all over. Then that mark thing appeared in the sky, and she vanished."

"You said that the mark was cast with your wand?"

"That's the really mad thing," said Harry. "They found a House Elf with my wand. It was Winky—you know, Mr Crouch's Elf. She was keeping the seat for him?"

"I remember," Hermione said darkly. "Even though she was afraid of heights."

"Well, he dismissed her," said Harry. "And they gave me back my wand." He patted his wand holster. "I guess it fell out of the holster during the game."

"She wasn't a native English speaker," Draco suddenly said.

Hermione looked confused. "Who? Winky?"

"No, you dolt. The mystery woman." Draco looked up at Harry. "You remember what she said?"

"'Battle is over, only one thing left?'"

"It's a bit fuzzy for me, too. Only thing is, I remember that the way she put it wasn't normal for English. I don't remember an accent, but her sentences were not typical of an English speaker." He scowled back down at the chessboard. "Given what's happening at Hogwarts this year, we might get answers more quickly than we expect."

The compartment fell silent again. Harry finally broke the silence.

"What's happening at Hogwarts this year?"

Draco blinked, and looked up at them. "You don't know?"