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.
The Graveyard
Harry collapsed on the ground, the impact driving the air out of his lungs. He coughed and shuddered, and rolled to his feet. Luckily, he'd managed to keep a hand on his wand. He lit it with a muttered, "Lumos", and panned the light around.
"Ami!"
The blue-haired girl had landed even worse than himself, and was clutching her ankle.
"Feels sprained," she said through gritted teeth. "I can't walk on it."
"I can carry you—"
"No need." She reached into a pocket of her robe, and pulled out a short stick. "Can you keep a secret?"
Something tickled his memory, and he said, "You need to transform, right?"
She nodded. "Once I've transformed, I'll be able to walk." She held up the stick. "Mercury Power!"
There was a flare of blue-white light, and Ami was suddenly dressed in a short skirt, sailor-style top with a large bow, and knee-high boots. To Harry's complete lack of surprise, the outfit was primarily blue and white, with a golden tiara at her brow.
She stood up, still somewhat shakily, and glanced around. "All right. Where have we landed?"
"Looks like a graveyard," said Harry.
"Well, that's not optimal," muttered Ami.
It was still night, so the portkey hadn't taken them too far, but it was warmer than it had been in Scotland, and a low mist clung to the ground. The headstones looked rather old, with only a few newer stones standing out. They had landed in front of a small stone building, with a statue of an angel standing before it. The most ominous part of the setting, however, was the large black iron cauldron, resting over a fire.
Ami had her computer out, and was scanning. "Two life forms approaching. One is human, the other is...not entirely."
"Where's your wand?" he asked.
"It's now part of my uniform," she said. "I don't need it to use magic in this form." She tensed. "Harry—"
She turned and shoved him, just as a harsh voice yelled, "Avada Kedavra!"
The green bolt flew across the graveyard, and slammed into Ami. There was a shower of shattered ice, and Ami was tossed backward. She crashed to the ground, unmoving.
Harry's vision narrowed down to the figure who had cast the lethal spell. Her blonde hair shone in the moonlight, and her haughty face was locked in a rictus of hatred.
His wand came up, and he yelled, "Reducto!" But Narcissa batted the curse out of mid-air with her wand tip, and countered with, "Stupefy!" The red spell struck him in the face, and he knew no more.
He awoke in agony. It was only when the pain stopped that he realized he was screaming. He opened his eyes, to see Narcissa Malfoy staring back at him.
"You turned my son against me," she hissed. "For that, I would gladly end your life. But Lord Voldemort shall have that privilege."
"Begin the ritual, Narcissa." The voice, high-pitched and raspy, was one that Harry had hoped never to hear again. He tried to move, but realized that he'd been bound to a statue—the angel statue near which they'd appeared.
Narcissa stepped back, still glaring at him, then turned to the iron cauldron. Now that he could focus, Harry saw the fire still smouldering under the cauldron, the silvery fumes rising from it, and the bundle of rags that Narcissa lifted from the ground. She dropped the bundle into the cauldron, then waved her wand.
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you shall restore your son."
A bone rose from the ground at Harry's feet, and drifted over to the cauldron. It dropped in, and the cauldron began to bubble.
"Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed, you shall restore your master."
Narcissa drew a silver dagger from her robes, and sliced off the little finger from her left hand. She clenched her jaw in obvious pain, but didn't make any sound. The finger fell into the cauldron, and the fumes turned red.
"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you shall restore your foe."
She walked over to Harry, a vicious smirk on her face. Then slashed the knife across his face. Harry screamed, and struggled against his bonds, but could not get free. Narcissa returned to the cauldron, and flicked some of his blood from the knife into the liquid.
The cauldron roared into life, spewing silvery fumes above it. Moments later, it died down, and a gaunt form lifted itself from the cauldron. His features were serpentine, his eyes red, and his head bare of any hair, but Harry recognized him nonetheless.
"Robe me."
Narcissa hurried forward, a black robe in her hands. She wrapped it around the reborn Lord Voldemort.
"A pity that you were not able to recover my wand, Narcissa. Unfortunately, there is no way of knowing where Wormtail hid it." Voldemort smirked. "Unless, of course, I get the chance to ask him personally. For now, I must use yours."
He held out his hand, and Narcissa reluctantly dropped her wand into his palm. He held it up, examining it closely.
"Elm-wood and unicorn hair. A wand for the cautious." He sneered at her. "It will suffice. Release Potter."
Narcissa stalked towards Harry, her knife in hand. She slashed through the ropes binding him to the statue, and he fell face-first into the dirt.
"Narcissa has been rather unpleasant to you, has she not?" Voldemort walked towards him, wand pointed lazily in his direction. "She feels rather put out that you have corrupted her son, and spread lies about myself."
"Lies like you being a half-blood?" Harry spat out some dirt, and struggled to his feet. "That was no lie, Tom. You told me yourself that your father was a Muggle."
"Crucio!"
The agony returned, and he sprawled again to the ground, screaming.
"You must keep a civil tongue, Harry, when speaking to your betters."
The pain receded, and Harry struggled to stand. He felt a pressure against his waist, and realized that Krum's hornbeam wand was still tucked into his belt.
"We lack a Dark Mark at the moment—Narcissa never received the Mark, believing that an un-Marked socialite would be valuable asset. I would call my Death Eaters before me, to answer for their inaction all these years. Only one ever sought me out during my exile, and were he not now at Hogwarts, doing my bidding, he would have officiated at this, my resurrection. Therefore, only Narcissa will be present to witness your execution. Give him his wand."
Narcissa stalked towards him, and held out his wand. He glared at her, and grabbed it from her hand.
"You have been taught to duel, have you not, Harry?" Voldemort smiled, the expression grotesque on his serpentine face. "First we bow. Bow to death, Harry Potter."
Harry stood defiantly, glaring at the psychopath.
"Come now, Harry. The forms must be observed. Imperio!"
The Imperius Curse washed over Harry, but he refused its compulsion. He'd already had some natural resistance to the Curse; the insane training by Mad-Eye had only built upon that.
"Impressive," said Voldemort quietly. "Were it not required that you die, I would offer you a place at my side. But die you must. If you will not bow, then we shall begin without such formalities. Crucio!"
Harry had been expecting the Killing Curse, but dodging was just as effective against the Cruciatus. He brought his own wand up. "Expelliarmus!"
But Voldemort knocked the spell away. "Schoolyard charms have no place here, Harry. Crucio!"
Harry dodged again, then cast, "Expecto Patronum!"
Voldemort laughed. "What can a Patronus do against me? I am no Dementor!"
Harry directed the Patronus to attack Voldemort, then while the Dark Lord was distracted, tapped himself on the head with his wand. The ice-water feeling washed over him, and he slipped behind the mausoleum.
"Where has he gone?"
"Disillusioned, My Lord," replied Narcissa.
Harry slipped around the other side of the mausoleum, and pointed his wand at the cauldron. "Vox Illusoria," he whispered. Then moved again, as another curse—green, this time—slammed into where he'd been standing.
"I can still hear you, Potter," said Voldemort. "You only hasten your demise."
"Dobby," whispered Harry.
His voice came from the Cauldron, and Voldemort turned and blasted it out of existence.
Dobby appeared next to him, and looked around, confused and then terrified.
"Get Ami's body and take it back to Hogwarts, whispered Harry. "Then come back for me."
Dobby nodded silently, then vanished again.
"Finite Incantatem!" yelled Voldemort. Harry again became visible, and turned to point his wand at Voldemort. But the Dark Lord was ready for him. "Expelliarmus!"
His wand flew past the Dark Lord's head; Voldemort didn't even bother trying to catch it.
"You've proven both powerful and resourceful, Harry Potter. But the game ends here. Avada Kedavra!"
Harry ducked under the green curse. His hand dropped to his belt, and drew the hornbeam wand. "Stupefy!"
The look of surprise on Voldemort's face as he was struck by the stunner was a thing of beauty. He crashed to the ground, not quite unconscious, but badly stunned. Harry whirled, and pointed his wand at Narcissa, who raised her hands in shock.
"You got another wand, bitch?" he hissed at her.
Narcissa suddenly turned, and vanished with a pop.
Harry stared at where she'd been standing, then quickly whirled around. But he was a moment too late. Narcissa appeared next to Voldemort, grabbed his arm, then vanished with a second pop. Harry whirled again, checking all around himself. But there was no sign of her; she, and Voldemort, had fled the graveyard.
Harry lowered his borrowed wand, then nearly jumped out of his skin when Dobby spoke up next to him.
"I has taken Ami to Hogwarts, Master Harry. And here is your wand."
Harry collected his holly wand from Dobby, and shoved the hornbeam wand back into his belt. "Thank you, Dobby."
"We is the only peoples here, Master Harry. Shall we go?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah." He held out his hand to the Elf, and both vanished from the graveyard.