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.

Summer In Diagon

"Okay, let me see if I got this right," Harry said. "-Chan is used for girls or women, -kun for boys or young men, and -san for anyone older, right?"

Hotaru nodded. "That's correct."

"So for Ron, I'd use -kun, and for you, I'd use -chan."

For some reason, Hotaru blushed lightly. "Yes, that's correct."

"And for, say, Professor Flitwick, I'd use -san?"

"For a teacher, or a doctor or other professional, it's more appropriate to use -sensei," said Hotaru. "But for, say, Tom—" She indicated the barman, who was currently wiping down a table. "—then -san would be appropriate."

Harry nodded. "Okay, I think I've got it. So when your father called me Potter-kun, he was simply noting that I was younger than him?"

Well..." Hotaru shifted. "Using -kun is kind of familiar. I suppose he should have used -san. It's a bit more formal. But he knows that we're friends, so he was trying to be friendly with you."

Harry nodded again, feeling like he was starting to understand. "Got it. Thanks for explaining this to me."

"Don't feel bound to use them," said Hotaru. "After all, I might have been born in Japan, but I've been in England since I was three. I'm more English than I am Japanese. Much to my father's dismay." She looked down at her Shepherd's Pie. "We visit Japan every summer, but I don't really feel at home there."

Harry nodded. "I know. I was born in the Wizarding World, and I lived there for the first fifteen months, but it still baffles me."

"It baffles me, too," admitted Hotaru. She tapped a coin on the table in front of her. "Seventeen sickles to the galleon, twenty-nine knuts to the sickle—both those numbers are prime!" She sounded offended. "And they think that the best flying surface is a straight line?"

"I like brooms," said Harry. "Though I'll admit, they aren't the most comfortable to ride."

"But apparently, magic carpets are banned," continued Hotaru. "And I can't find any reason that makes any sense. They say it's because carpets are Muggle artifacts, but then what's a broom? Do they think that Muggles don't sweep their floors?"

"Have you tried the floo yet?"

Hotaru shook her head. "Not yet."

"I wouldn't try it if you've just eaten," chuckled Harry. "You spin around like a top, and you get ashes in your mouth. It's like the worst amusement ride in the world."

Hotaru giggled, her hand covering her mouth.

With Hotaru's assistance, Harry's summer homework had taken perhaps three days to complete. And so, with nothing more pressing to do, he and Hotaru explored Diagon Alley. Their shared interest in potions saw them crawling through Slugs and Jiggers, where—to his disgust—he discovered that boomslang skin, lacewings and fluxweed were all sold, and could be ordered by owl-mail.

They spent many hours, over several days, at Flourish and Blotts. Neither of them had received their books list yet—they weren't due out until early August—but Harry felt he couldn't go wrong picking up The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3.

He noted a wanted poster—something that he'd always assumed belonged in the distant past, on another continent, but there it was. Sirius Black stared out of it, a blank, glassy look in his eyes. His black hair was matted and tangled, and his cheeks sunken. Harry shuddered as he looked at it.

"I wonder what he did?"

"Hm?" Hotaru looked at the picture. "Oh, Sirius Black. It's said that he murdered thirteen people with a single curse. Papa said that he's been on the Muggle news as well."

"Can we find anything on him, do you think?"

"Well, we're in a bookstore." Hotaru turned and walked towards the History section.

"In that way, you and Hermione are very alike," observed Harry. "When in doubt, go to the library."

"Except that, unlike Hermione," said Hotaru sternly, "I am prepared to doubt the book."

"She's getting better," said Harry. "But she's still got a long way to go."

"Here we are." Hotaru pulled a book off the shelf. "Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, by Bathilda Bagshot." She glanced at Harry with a grin. "Bet you a sickle you're in here."

"No bet," said Harry. "Practically the first thing Hermione did, even before introducing herself, was to point out that I was in this book. And two others. I can't remember the titles."

Hotaru flipped to the table of contents, then back to nearly the end of the book. Then turned it around, so Harry could read the title.

"I don't think I warrant an entire chapter," complained Harry.

She snapped the book shut, then walked to the counter. The bookseller glanced at the book, then said, "One galleon six, luv."

"I got this," said Harry.

"I wanted to keep the book," objected Hotaru.

"You still can," Harry reassured her. "I missed your birthday, and last Christmas both. Besides, it was me who wanted to look him up."

They stopped at Fortescue's, and Harry ordered them both a sundae. Hotaru objected again.

"Harry, you keep spending money on me. You don't need to, you know. I do have some money."

"Okay, I'll let you get the next one," said Harry. "It's just...it's nice, you know? Being able to buy stuff for my friends."

"I suppose," said Hotaru. She sat down, and opened the book. "Here he is. He didn't get his own chapter, just a section at the end of yours."

"Mine?"

"Well, I suppose it makes sense," allowed Hotaru. "After all, if he worked for Voldemort..." She glanced through the page. "Um..."

"Problem?"

"He was apparently a good friend of your father."

"He was?" Harry frowned. "Wouldn't think that my Dad would be friends with a dark wizard."

"He might not have always been a dark wizard," Hotaru said thoughtfully. "Plus, who knows what may have caused him to change." She closed the book, and frowned at it. "There just isn't enough here to go on. He attacked a wizard called Peter Pettigrew, with an over-powered spell that blew Pettigrew to pieces, and killed twelve Muggles. When the Obliviators arrived, they found him laughing in the middle of the carnage." She shuddered.

"You'd think that something like that would warrant more," said Harry.

"He was sentenced to Azkaban Prison," mused Hotaru. "If he was sentenced, then he was tried. So you could probably get the court records."

"I don't really know how," admitted Harry.

"Then maybe a barrister can help?" Hotaru looked down. "I know that that can be a bit expensive, but...it's all I can think of."

"Well, I'm not buying that Firebolt, much as I'd like to. How much could it cost to just get court records?" He looked up as Mr Fortescue approached, a sundae in each hand. "Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me if there are any Wizarding barristers?"

Mr Fortescue looked down at the sundaes, then back at Harry. "Ice cream isn't so bad you're going to sue, is it?" He grinned. "What sort of barrister are you looking for?"

"I want to find out more about Sirius Black."

Mr Fortescue sighed. "We always figured he was the white sheep of the Black family."

"You knew him?"

"Only in passing," said Mr Fortescue. He set down the sundaes. "He came in here on occasion, with his friends, while they were all still at Hogwarts. Most often with your father, come to think of it." He paused, and considered. "Now, a criminal barrister would likely be a solid choice for this sort of thing. But I'm going to refer you to Edward Tonks. He's in family law, but he's married to Sirius Black's cousin."

"Mr Tonks is currently busy," said the secretary. "I can schedule an appointment for you, if you'd like?"

"Who's there?" The door behind the secretary opened, and a man stuck his head out. "I could use a break from this blasted paperwork, Ellen, if it's just a short consult."

"I'm not sure—"

The man walked into the front office. "Couple of kids. Hogwarts students, I take it?"

"Yes, Sir," said Harry.

"Well, come on in," said the man. "Consult's free, but bear in mind that unless you retain me, I can't give you specific legal advice. And your names are?"

"Hotaru Tomoe and Harry Potter, Sir."

"Harry Potter?" The man paused. "I've heard of you, of course."

Harry winced. Though, if his fame was good for anything, now might be the time to use it.

"You have my condolences on the loss of your parents, young man. Please, come in."

That wasn't what Harry expected. He and Hotaru—who was looking at the floor—walked into the man's office. The chairs in front of the desk were comfortable, but behind the desk was a Muggle office chair, something that Harry hadn't expected to see. For that matter, he also noticed a degree from Oxford, and a Muggle-style plastic name-bar, telling him that the man before him was Edward Tonks.

"So, Mr Potter. How may I assist you today?"

"Well, Sir, I was hoping to get the trial records for Sirius Black."

"Black, eh?" Tonks leaned back, one hand rubbing his chin. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised."

"Sir?"

"Oh, I suspect nobody's told you." He leaned forward. "I find that I have to ask you for a retainer, because I can't really say anything about the situation unless I'm representing you." He paused. "I'll ask for a retainer of forty galleons. That should cover a few hours of legal advice, plus the record search."

Harry quickly fished out the galleons and placed them in a neat stack on the desk. Tonks chuckled.

"All right. My secretary will have a client care letter for you to sign before you leave. First off, I'm assuming that you came to me because my wife is Sirius Black's cousin. However, I have to tell you that I never met the man. I graduated Hogwarts the year before he and your father started. When I married Andromeda, she was cast out of the Black family, because I'm Muggleborn." He snorted. "For the most part, the Blacks are extremely prejudiced against Muggles.

"However, certain bits of gossip have made their way around the legal profession. One of these is that Sirius Black was named your godfather by James Potter."

Harry blinked. "He was?"

"Further, it's been said that Sirius Black was the only man that your father trusted with his hiding location. But your parents were in hiding less than three weeks before the Dark Prat found them. Something seems off about the timing. Plus, I have a reliable source who tells me that it was Black himself who fished you out of the ruins of the cottage...and then handed you over to Hagrid to bring to Dumbledore. No, something is wrong about the entire situation."

"So what do we do?" asked Harry.

"Well, since you retained me, and since this is an issue related to your family, I will go down to the Ministry of Magic and pull Sirius Black's trial transcripts and arrest records." Tonks leaned back. "There might just be something in there that can make sense of this mess. This might take a few days for me to sort through, but I will keep you updated."

"Thank you, Mr Tonks," said Harry.

"Call me Ted," said Tonks with a smile. "And don't worry, Harry. We'll get to the bottom of this."