What if Naruto had Abandoned by Family away Thirty-five Hundred from Home ? Movie 1

So hey guys, how are you all? Welcome to So we are back with a brand new movie on what if Naruto had abandoned by family away 3500 from home movie. But before we start, be sure to subscribe to our channel and like this video. Now let's begin the story. Grinning from ear to ear, he burst towards the stall and slammed his hands down on the bar, earning annoyed looks from some of the other customers. Oi oi, he shouted for miso ramen, please for here to go. Here. Hi. Uzzuaki San Ayame giggled as she placed the order and left to prepare the meal. Less than 10 minutes later, she emerged balancing a tray on each hand. By that time, the rest of Naruto's team had caught up with the hyperactive blonde ninja and sat down with him. With a chorus of Itadakimos, the three jennon and their instructor dug into their food, letting their stomachs happily get to work after a hard day's worth of training. So what you got for us? Kakashi sensei Konaha's number one obnoxious ninja asked his junan instructor between gulps of ramen. It must be really important if you agreed to pay for our lunch. He turned around to quickly inhale the rest of the soup before asking the waitress for another bowl of ramen but shrimp this time, please. She smiled and complied with his wish, disappearing again behind the curtains before coming out with his order. Hitaki Kakashi sighed and shook his head. If Narut kept eating at this rate, then he was going to be hardressed to pay for the lunch bill. Well, he replied slowly, setting his own empty bowl down. It seems as if the godm sent us a message about something special. We<unk>ll discuss it later. Sounds good, the blonde stated, not really paying attention. Sasake watched with mild amusement at the pace. The food was disappearing from the bowl. Then, looking over at his sensei, he noticed that all of the Jun's ramen was already gone. When had he taken off his mask? The Uchiha looked back towards the rest of his teammates, wondering how little things had changed during the past few months. Nar was still eating his noodles like a vacuum cleaner, and Sakura was scolding him for his eating habits. Ayame San and her father were busy catering to their other customers at the Ichiaku stand while the inhabitants of Konaha talked pleasantly with one another. Turning his thoughts elsewhere, he stared at the ceramic bowl in front of him, thinking back to the notsodistant past. Had he really tried to run away from it all, his friends, his peers, the people he could call family? Had he really been that desperate to go through such lengths to do so? Had revenge taken over his mind to the point where all rational thought fled from his being? A tingle from his shoulder was the reply, and Sasake unconsciously brought his right hand to rub against the curse seal. The time when he had tried to defect from the hidden village of Leaf was still a big blur in his mind, and he had trouble distinguishing the events that had transpired during his flight away from the place he had considered his home. The fight between himself and the loudmouthed person that sat not 2 ft away was even more shrouded than the haze after he had died in the sealed container. Had he really been that close to killing the closest person he had to calling a best friend? A voice interrupted his silent brooding. Oi Te, aren't you going to eat before your soup gets cold? Urasai Dobby Sasuke automatically replied, not registering what the blonde had even said. Narut bristled from his spot, trying to come up with an insult to throw at his face, but immediately stopped after one Heruno Sakura's glare. Sasuke wisely chose to tune them out, knowing that that wasn't going to get him anywhere. Ano Sasake [ __ ] you haven't touched your meal. Indeed, he hadn't. As if noticing for the first time, Sasake blinked at the now cooled ramen in front of him. Ignoring Sakura's slightly worried look, he broke apart his chopsticks and began eating his food. Taking his time to chew and swallow methodically. It wasn't long before his thoughts got carried away again. It was as if he had never left. His team had forgiven him for his actions, as had the Jennon, plus one Chunin, who had been involved in his capture and retrieval. But that didn't mean the rest of the village had forgotten about his temporary betrayal. Whispers were being exchanged behind their backs. And if Sasake prided himself on being a ninja, he could bet his life that they were talking about him. Hey, isn't that the kid who tried tea? Hush. We're not supposed to talk about that. Hi. Hi. I know. Demo saw. The Hokag expressed her wishes for that subject to remain silent. K. If you ask me, they should have killed him instead of bringing him back. I don't know what the hell that woman was thinking when she ordered that mission, but I don't appreciate traitors in our midst. Even if it involves that kid, Haruka, keep your thoughts to yourself. We should be glad that they were able to bring him back. What if he had succeeded in running away to him? Konaha would have been in big trouble then, which is why they should have all died in the first place. Watch your tongue. Sasake shrugged them away without a second thought, pretending that he hadn't heard the hushed conversation with his sharp ears. Looking at the rest of his team, he could tell that they two had picked up the voices, but were too polite to place attention on it. Nar kept on smiling and talked even louder than before, despite the fact that he probably had a better sense of hearing than all of them combined, and couldn't drown out the whispers, no matter how loud he tried to cover it up. And Sakura, poor Sakura, was trying so hard not to let any of these comments get the better of her by engaging in whatever topic Nar was spouting up in efforts to talk over the gossip around them. Noticing the tension rising in the ramen booth, Kakashi cleared his throat. Well, if you free your done with your meals, I propose that we head out. They nodded and rose from their seats. Kakashi thanked a Yamean and left the necessary amount of money with a generous tip before following his students. Seeing that the others were well ahead of him, the Junan then disappeared in a flurry of leaves and transported himself to where his students had decided to wait for instructions. Several seconds later, he reappeared at their usual meeting spot on the bridge where team 7 had chosen to regroup. Kakashi greeted them with a goofy face and a raised hand. Yosh, good to see that you all didn't get distracted on your way here. He then pulled out a scroll from his pouch and opened it so that the others could see it. I wanted to make sure that we weren't being overheard in a place full of people. This is the request written by the Hokag stating that she wishes to see us at 1,000 hours tomorrow. Anything specific? or will she tell us that when she meets us? Just a small meeting about a special ops mission she wants to send us on. She was very pleased with our last big mission, so she thinks that we're capable of handling another one. Three pairs of eyes brightened at the prospect. Another protection mission. That's correct, and it seems like they're important as well. Any other questions and or details will be explained next week at the official debriefing. Is that all? Sakura asked as she took a quick glance at the sky. For now, at least you're all dismissed. Thanks, the Kunoichi replied as she took off. I need to get going before I'm late for something. Hey, Sakura Chan, Narut called out, chasing after her. Where are you going? Sama wanted me to train with Shazun San for extra lessons since she's too busy to see me in person today, she replied as he caught up next to her. That old hag is still giving you a hard time. Well, I'm just grateful that she decided to give me extra lessons on top of my training with my Jennen team. Nar gave her a smile. Well, I got to go for extra training as well with Aerosin. And I'm sure that you'll be just fine. She nodded and leapt onto a rooftop, taking a shortcut towards the direction in which Konaha's hospital buildings stood. Nar followed sweet, heading for one of the training grounds less frequented by other Shinobi. That left only Kakashi and Sasake on the bridge, watching as half of the team left without so much as a second glance back. Not much had changed during the past few months. But then again, the little that did was enough to remind the Uchiha that nothing was the same as before. "What rank?" Sasake asked as his teammates left to find their secondary instructors. "A class?" The lights sparkled in the darkness like pieces of glass on the beach as she flew overhead, gliding almost effortlessly against the cool breeze that swept across the land. The waning crescent moon shone down upon the earth, and the stars were twinkling dimly, occasionally covered by a drifting cloud or two. Below lay a quiet residential area in which the adults were home from their hard days work, and the children were asleep. All the houses were mirror images of each other, down to the very last doormat and the ornaments, or lack thereof, on the front lawn. At first, one might stop to marvel at the level of conformity this strange group of people seemed to exhibit. But that could all be waved away by professors and anthropologists who had spent time analyzing them. Muggles, after all, were an odd bunch. As if knowing this, the small flighty being swooped down from the skies and gently perched on a flickering street lamp. She blinked outishly, staring at all of the identical houses in front of her. Now, which one was it? She glanced back at the letter in her possession and found the house that corresponded to the address written across the envelope. Hopping off the street lamp, she made her way towards the intended house, arriving at a specific window on the second floor. Peering inside, she saw that the recipient of her letter was fast asleep and tangled in his sheets. Carefully hanging on one side of the windowsill, she knocked gently on the glass, hoping to rouse the person inside to open the window since it was locked from the inside. After seeing that he refused to wait, she knocked again, only slightly louder. He still wouldn't get up. Mentally sighing, she resorted to waiting outside, hoping that no one would see her sitting, more like precariously balancing on a second story window before she had the chance to deliver and leave. But that was no matter. She could wait. A few seconds later, she saw something dart out of the bushes, into the flower garden, under the fence, and into the neighbor's yard. With her superior vision, it didn't take too long for her to realize that the prey she was getting hungry. Could you blame her? Was slightly limping and not at all hard to capture, kill, and devour. It was going to be a long wait. The figure inside the very room was not having any better of a time in his fretful slumber. It was dark and hardly cozy with clothes scattered here and there and neglected pieces of furniture about. The paint was starting to peel from the stucco walls due to years of abuse. The door hinge seemed to be a little rusty, and the doororknob was well worn. The wooden floor was showing signs of decay, and an occasional squeak was likely to be heard when treading upon them, though the caretakers of the house would never admit out loud, much less to themselves, that such a room existed in their charge. The bed was old and thoroughly worn, with a huge dip in the middle of the mattress, where the springs had been bent out of shape, as if an object of immense weight had been dropped from a great height. The figure thrashed about as if trying to evade an enemy in his sleep and kicked the blankets around a bit. He jerked when at one point in his dream he was captured by his mortal enemy and responded by struggling in the hold of the deadly sheet covers. He let out a short scream of pain and in one final struggle against the enemy, the blanket, which was putting up a rather good fight by tangling itself around the young boy's arms, legs, and torso. Still in the nightmarish trance, he pushed himself against the wall where he hit his left shoulder against something rather splintery and possibly lethal. It had all started with a peculiar-looking round knife embedded into the ground next to a small mound and a big slab of stone. Or at least it looked like a round blade. When he tried to push his glasses up his nose so that his eyes could focus better, he found that they were nowhere to be found on his face or anywhere nearby. After the first stone slab came dozens more. Rows of what looked like graves appeared out of nowhere. As the black-haired boy lifted his head to the horizon. He started down one particular row of graves, feeling that something was calling out to him, his feet moving as if some unknown force were guiding him towards a specific destination. Passing by each of the graves, he hauled at one that bore scratched marks and with a morbid sense of curiosity, knelt to brush the dust off. What he saw startled him. His own mother's name was engraved on the cold stone. And as he rose to run, he spotted one with his father's. Now sprinting, the boy ran past the stone slabs, trying not to see the names engraved in huge letters on either side of him. But one piece of stone made him stop in his tracks. In the corner of his eyes, he spotted one empty grave with snake patterns etched into the sides of the surface of the granite. They seemed to beckon him, inviting him to come closer with their beautiful yet deadly white faces and harsh penetrating eyes. Come here, they seemed to say as they started glowing an eerie color of green. Come here, we won't<unk>t hurt you. There was a moment when time stood still as the scrawny boy hesitated, but he slowly walked closer to the grave. Inches in front of the stone slab, he paused, waiting for something to happen. Yes. The snakes hissed with an almost soothing tone into his mind. Come join us. The little stone snakes moved around to reveal to the boy what they had been hiding from the rest of the world. His own name carved into the tombstone. He was hardly surprised to see it. However, it seemed so right, for lack of a better term, so fitting. He had lost his entire family, some of his comrades and peers, and many others whom he had never gotten to know. But seeing his name etched in stone couldn't compare to the feeling of shock, loss, and despair from a few months ago. Then a chilling wind rose up that sent a shiver down his spine. The boy turned to face a cloud of dark mist, sharp eyes peering from within. There was yet another moment of silence as the teenager drew a breath and prepared himself for what was yet to come. "Size him!" A harsh, high voice commanded to the snakes on the stone. The once motionless tombstones sprang to life as they took the shape of what seemed like slithering objects, all aiming, reaching, lunging for the boy's legs. His reflexes were fast. There was no denying that. Yet, as the boy sprinted to avoid the lunging snakes, he found himself falling fast towards the ground before him, tied down by a wave of writhing liquid stone. A man, no, he could hardly be considered human anymore, came out of the shadows of the black mist, carrying a large and deadly python-ish snake around his shoulders, in which the boy recognized as a basilisk. He had seen one before, but how he was still alive after just having locked gazes with the monster was a mystery, one of many that was bugging him at this moment. Master, master, we have him. We have him. The snakes etched onto the tombstone rattled in a frenzied excitement, glowing radiantly with energy. Very good, was the masked man's reply. He turned to the black-haired boy and asked, "Do you know who I am?" The boy just stood there as if petrified, secured too tightly to even move. The stone chains that were formerly binding him were brushed aside by a wave of the man's hand. By now, the snake had slithered off of the mysterious man's shoulders and had started towards the boy, hissing, eyes full of pure hatred and venom. I am your snake- like figure dramatically drawled out, making the boy's blood race with adrenaline. Cold red eyes peered as the basilisk proceeded to make the distance between itself and the boy shorter. Death. The man's snake- like eyes pierced the boy's green ones as he gave the command with a hissing voice. Do it. The boy screamed in pain as the bassilisk shot out from behind one of the gravestones and bit him squarely on his left shoulder. He could only grasp his shoulder as he tried to figure out a way to defeat the snake. Somehow somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew how to be rid of it, but the poison from the snake bite starting creeping up his neck and threatened to split his head apart. Something about a bird and the color red. And now the famous golden boy I have long sought after lays dying before me. I can't help but feel disappointed in his pathetic efforts. So, I shall present a little gift for him. The snake figure rose and motioned with his head to where he kept a few people tied to wooden stakes, which the boy had not noticed earlier due to the endless rows of graves. As you can see, I've discovered a way to bring people back from the dead. The black-haired boy recognized a few of the faces in the very front from the old photo albums kept at home. Say goodbye. No. His mind screamed as the malicious robed man raised his arms to perform that spell, that forbidden spell that would end up killing, killing. Don't kill them. But the pain was blinding his senses, making him lose sight of the figures on the stakes as he heard them being tortured to death. Their screams echoing in his ears with a ringing sensation. Don't kill them, Mom. Dad, no. Don't kill them. Leave them. Hey, arms shot out, reaching, grasping, flailing for fresh air as the boy awoke from his dream. With a sweating brow, black hair plastered on his face, pain searing across his forehead and shoulder, and short rasps of breath, he sat up on his bed, covers a stray, trying to block the images that haunted him almost every night of the summer. Calming himself down, he slowed his breathing and his erratic heartbeat, and tried to think rationally. A nightmare that was all it had been. That was all it was. Even years after the death of his parents, he still longed for their presence, their comfort. Putting that aside, the teenage boy slid out of bed, but not without a sudden lurching sound from the supporting wooden beams holding the bed together, wincing at the pain in his left shoulder. If memory served correctly, he had been bitten by a snake in his dream. Then why did it hurt even after waking up? Experiencing pain in one's sleep was nay well impossible, according to scientists. But they hadn't taken curses and magical scars into account during their studies. Perhaps he had accidentally rammed his shoulder into something in the middle of his sleep. It wasn't an unlikely circumstance with all of the junk located about the room. On the other hand, it could have also been the fault of the furniture. Maybe he should see about getting a new bed. His current one was too old and hardly fitting as a place to sleep on. True, it had a tendency to jolt every once in a while, as if it were going to fall any second, which was a result of years of abuse it had been put through before he had ever received it. And that archaic bed post was bound to kill someone sooner or later. Most importantly of all, it was broken. But then, where would he get the money? Perhaps the neighbors would be willing to give him a few odd jobs to do, but that was unlikely. That was highly unlikely. Oh, but how he wished, the boy got up from his bed and proceeded to walk about his room, wary of the scattered pieces of parchments and scrolls lying about. He'd been having trouble trying to sneak all of his studying past his relatives, but they had no knowledge of the act thus far. For that, he was grateful. It would have been troublesome if they had found out that he had been learning about that again. It was clear that his aunt and uncle didn't want anything to do with those people. Wizards, he mumbled under his breath. Or have him associate with them. But what could he say? Those people, as they put it, were a part of his everyday life. He couldn't change any of it. He certainly didn't want to. He gingerly rubbed his temples with his right hand as he covered his eyes with the other. He was getting more prone to these migraine-like pains, and the more he thought of it, the more intensifying it became. He rubbed his eyes in hopes of clearing them before he took another step towards the other side of the room. It had been his studying, and what he liked to call training in the middle of night that had made him get these headaches in the first place. If only it didn't strain his eyes so much. Stupid teachers giving me so much damn homework. Wearing a much too large gray shirt and a loose- fitting pair of khaki pants, the teenage boy rumpled his messy hair and stared at the clock just above his desk. Squinting his eyes, he stepped closer in order to decipher the minuscule black hands on the shinny face of the object by which he lived by. He had taken to staring at the clock every day, trying to pass by the endless time that seemed to be on his hands until the day when he would be called to join his friends. Once again at school. School. That was the one place where he felt like he belonged. The one place his relatives loathed most of all. They never had approved of his school. And the boy was convinced by now that they will never learn to like it. Since his parents had died, his aunt and uncle had taken over rather unwillingly in raising the boy up to this very day. Still, the boy thought that his relatives might sooner raise a complete stranger, even shelter a criminal, than to treat him with the respect and care a decent human being deserved. They had never taken to liking him and his kind. It must be in the blood. He looked into the mirror located on the door to his closet and smiled grimly. He had been told a few times by a few of the adults he trusted that he looked exactly like his father. He couldn't really disagree, though. It had been so long since he had seen his father's face that he couldn't really compare his to his own. His memory was starting to fade, but his head and shoulder aches didn't. He winced once again as he moved about the room and put his hands to his left shoulder. The shirt that he was wearing stuck to his body as if the humidity of the air had intensified by a hundfold. He removed his hand to find traces of sweat that somehow managed to soak into his cotton shirt, but thought nothing of it until he notices the coloration of the damp material and the sweat on his palm. He grimaced and grit his teeth as it suddenly dawns on him. It was looking rather dark for sweat. He moved his shirt away from his shoulder. The punctured holes didn't look nor feel much like splinters had gotten to them. In fact, it looked a lot like He closed his eyes slowly, trying to remember the face of the man who had tried to attack him. It was a shrunken white face, hardly like a man at all with those freaky looking eyes. Eyes that were as thin as slits with such intent and longing to kill. The boy had been taken aback. Still, he peered down at his shoulder again. That was no splinter mark. It was more like a a snake bite. He judged from the punctures left behind. It looked odd with three red comma looking marks in a circular pattern. What was also exceptionally strange was that it started to fade away, leaving only a small trail of crusted blood dried up on the back of his neck. It was starting to scare him. The way his dreams were becoming more and more real as time passed on. A tapping at the window made the boy shift his attention from the peculiar stain on his left shoulder towards the odd-looking bird outside on the sill. A fleeting glimpse of red flashed before his eyes, but the teenager sighed disappointedly. This white owl was not the bird he had hoped to see. But then again, maybe someone had written to him. The majestic owl perching near the window hooted and looked in at the boy with curious, expecting eyes. The boy hurried over as if he had been waiting for this, and opened the window to let the bird in. The owl hooted again, softer this time, as if afraid of stirring anything from its slumber, and hopped onto a nearby table, waiting for the boy to release her for the rest of the night. He nodded his head as a sign of understanding, and allowed the snowy owl to take off into the night. The boy eagerly opened the message carried by the owl as the bird flew off to go hunting for easy prey and for a chance to rest easy after a long journey. Inside was a hastily scrolled note as if the writer had been in a hurry or was just too impatient to write a decent-sized one. Fear not, my boy, I will be sending someone over soon for a scheduled visit. If things are not working well, then you can be rest assured that it will be handled accordingly. Just be sure to refrain from rash behaviors. Things are going as planned on our side, but we are not without losses. Hope you enjoy the rest of your summer holiday, and be sure to keep safe. We'll let you know if anything else happens. There was a little more to the note, but nothing as important as the clear warning is not quite Guardian had sent to him. That was followed by the smudged and almost unreadable signature of his caretaker and what appeared to be a few accidentally spilled drops of ink, as if the writer had knocked over a bottle of ink or simply let his pen run over. The boy let out a loud disappointed sigh as he set the small scroll down on the table. What could this mean? He asked no one in pertaining in regards to the letter. What exactly is going on? They weren't writing to him much. From what he could gather, the war efforts were going relatively smoothly. The weak part in the last bit of the letterish note suggested that his friends were also with the sender of the mail, but he couldn't be too sure. Much like last year, his friends and contacts had also taken to writing short notes instead of long-winded ones he had hoped for, and it was starting to annoy him again. What did they expect? He was well recovered from the unfortunate encounter last June. That snake man didn't manage to kill him yet, right? In the last tournament he had partaken in over a year ago, wasn't he the one who was attacked and still somehow managed to find a way to survive? The floor seemed to shake as he none too quietly stormed to his drawers to fetch his pen and parchment to write back to his caretaker and he bitterly added his friends. The boy was unaware of how sensitive or paranoid his relatives were about any sort of noise coming from his room until he heard the thudding of the wall coming from the room next to his. An older boy screamed at him to be quiet while yelling a few curses, none too loud for the adults down the hallway to hear and threaten to beat the younger boy. The following day, he tried to calm himself from his cousin's insults by biting into his lower lip and immediately regretted it when he tasted the copper liquid at the tip of his tongue. He silently asked himself why he still continued to live with such miserable people. Often he wondered if they were related at all and thought about his parents. They had died. No, to say that they died would be to not do them justice. They had been brutally, he added without a second thought, murdered in the dead of night when the moon was full and haunting. the killer was. He didn't want to think about it. He had come face to face with the killer on several occasions, each time not strong enough to defeat his snake like mortal enemy. Oh, how he wanted to kill that foul and disgusting creature with all of his being. And now said enemy was getting stronger, gathering more weapons and followers as the time ticked by as he sat in his ants house rotting away without the joy of practicing his newfound powers. All students were banned from practicing any of their spells outside of class or were otherwise faced with expulsion from the school and practically the rest of the community. Oh, how he wished that it were not so. But he was already in trouble for disobeying direct orders given to him by his superiors. The boy's thoughts were jarred from him as the clock on the wall rang, signaling that the night was half over and morning would soon be coming. He grimaced again as he looked down at his right hand, which traveled unconsciously towards his left shoulder as he walked back towards his bed. he would have to get the blood stains out later. With that, the boy known as Harry Potter eased himself back into bed, his shoulder sending waves of pain across his body and his scar searing with the pain he knew all too well. Something was going to happen soon. So, how long do you think this mission will last? Kakashi sensei Sakura asked as they met on the bridge later on in the afternoon. Shazun<unk>s sensei had dismissed her a little earlier than Sununade sama usually did, thus allowing her the time for one last D-rank mission before the sunset, and by the looks of it, Narut had somehow managed to get excused early as well. Hn. The Junan turned his head towards her as if he didn't hear her question. Sakura merely sweat dropped at how different her sensei was just a few minutes ago. Inner Sakura, on the other hand, did not. Why that little? Oh, I'm not too sure. Hokag sama said anywhere from Sakura leaned a little closer eager to get the details. 1 to 10 months. Kakashi finished. Sakura face falted at the elusiveness in his answer and mentally swore to somehow squeeze the details out of him. When I get my hands on him, Sasake was also annoyed at the lack of details. Why would it take that long? Even a month is a long time to be away. Oh, for that question, I have only one answer. Everybody drew closer. I don't know. This time the three jennon all face falted. Why not Kakashi sensei? Sakura and Narut both started yelling at him, their eyes like white sockets while Sasake just glared at his teacher. Oh well. Hokage sama requested that I don't reveal everything quite yet, but he was cut off by one of Naruto<unk>'s loud bursts. That's because you probably don't know anything yourself. Kakashi just backed off, smiling and chuckling to himself. Damn it, he hit that last one right on the mark. Okay, okay, calm down, Nar. No need to get excited about this. Nar just grunted and started mumbling to himself what Sakura thought sounded remarkably similar to, "Punch him and kick him and beat him up." And with that, Team 7 reached their destination and began to carry out one of their D-ranked missions. O Nar collapsed to the ground as he succumbed to his body's aching protests. What kind of training was that? Kakashi just smiled somewhat maniacally as he explained what his purpose was. Today's tasks also comes with a lesson. Those who are not able to wait for long periods at times need to learn how to be patient. It is an important factor of being a shinobi. Yeah, but what does collecting poison from frogs have to do with being patient? I bet Sakura and Sasake didn't do so well either. Kakashi backed off a little, holding his hands in front of him as a symbol of giving up withheld information. As a matter of fact, Sakura and Sasake didn't do such a good job. Huh? But at least they caught some of the frogs in the first place without being so careless as to actually touch them. Kakashi emphasized this by looking down to Naruto's hands. Nar responded by pifting and turned his head sideways, the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown. Oh yeah? So why is collecting the poison off the stupid frogs so important? because they are one of the key ingredients used in special medical creams and they only grow on certain frogs in this forest. Oh, they're not exactly the most abundant animals around, so we have to be careful not to upset them in any way. Nar glared. You think I upset them? Just look what they did to my hands. In response, he held up his hands in front of Kakashi's face, all swollen and blistered. You should have told me that their poison was on their skin. His sensei just shrugged and started walking back towards the village. So, I've noticed. A rg. Nar fumed and in blind rage tried to attack his teacher while wildly swinging his fists around. Kakashi merely blocked a clumsy punch that was aimed for his head before the jennon collapsed to the ground, clutching his hands in pure agony. I would have told you that the poison also make the nerves very sensitive unless properly cultivated, but you attacked before I had the chance to. Oh, gods. He hated the smell of antiseptics in the air that permeated in the hospital rooms. And what was that in her hands? It looked sharp and nasty, and it smelled worse than whatever foul chemicals were used to keep the whole building clean. Please don't bring it here. Please don't bring it here. Please don't bring it. Hh. Nar bid down on his tongue to refrain from screaming his lungs out. A slight whimper escaped his throat as the nurse-like figure proceeded to bandage his raw skin. Narutkun, you really ought to be more careful next time. These poisons are very potent. Although they have the power to help heal wounds, they can also cause painful ones if not handled carefully. He gasped and chose his words carefully, trying not to let his voice crack. You and Kakashi sensei could have told me that before. The nurse stopped her motions and turned to face the blonde ninja. She grinned good-naturedly as she placed a hand on Naruto's head and ruffled his hair. Well, you could have figured that out by just looking at what everyone else was doing. She continued bandaging the poor boy. He winced as she tightened the whole wrap with a double knot. Oi, Shazoon Nissan, that hurts a lot. That's what you get for being a loudmouth and a showoff. Hey, Nar HMmpf Ed and turned his head to the side, blowing hot air out of his nostrils. Shazun sighed and shook her head as she looked out the window. The kid reminded her of the godm, the same stubborn and hot-headed personality that she was bound to serve under. Speaking of which, sununade sama's been busy the past few days buried under paperwork. Hey, Shazun San. Shazun was shaken out of her thoughts at the mention of her name, Nani. Well, have you seen Baba recently? The medic nin shook her head. Just the person she was thinking about. Why do you ask at this? Narut grinned, pulling off one of his trademark fox looks. Well, she still owes me ramen from a bed we had a few weeks ago, and I think she's stubbornly refusing to pay for it. Shazun laughed and shook her head. Trust Narut to make the atmosphere lighter in his own ways. Is that all you can think about? Food? The boy shook his head. Nope. I think about training all the time, too. Well, then, you'd better heal up quick because word has it that the God's got a big mission for you. she winked, mocking Naruto<unk>'s ego and eagerness to show off to the world. Eh, don't worry about it. I'm sure I'll get better by the time I wake up tomorrow. He cocked his head and pointed a finger at his belly. Shazun gave a half smile at the unseen seal and started packing the leftover gauze and ointment. Nar, the blonde ninja, turned his head slightly to see his elers's figure through the corner of his eyes. Just make sure you get back, okay? Yeah. Narut picked up his forehead protector and jacket from the chair as he headed out the door. Sure thing, Shazuno Nissan. Light filtered in from the open window and settled on the back of a figure bent over a desk. Damn it. Hands folded neatly in front of its face, its eyes peered at the figure sitting a few meters away. Why now? Of all the years she had spent away from the village of Konaha, Sununade had not bothered to keep in contact with all of her former acquaintances. But for one of them to just show up out of the blue, she rubbed her temples unconsciously. I just know I'm going to regret this. The man before her chuckled lightly, his blue eyes sparkling with a sense of humor. I know it's been a rather tough transition for you, he said as if to speak her thoughts. You have no idea. Sun's attention flicked back from her headache to the customer, he sighed. And I am sorry to say that my presence here came at the most inopportune time. The third was a great friend of mine. I was expecting to meet him a while later, but certain circumstances led me to arrive here early. And that is, she had the urge to flick off one of the ants that were crawling around the table, running into the parchments and inks. They were scurrying about as if they were on a wild goose chase or something. Maybe there was a breadcrumb around here somewhere. You understand what I was asking from you a few days ago? Yes, he asked without really expecting a reply. In turn, nodded. I hope that I've given you enough time to consider the offer. For some reason, they were carving patterns around the wood as if tracing a complex path across the rings. More than enough. I've already assigned it to a group of capable shinobi who are willing to take it. The man interrupted, waving a hand aside, smiling at her attempt to sidestep the matter. One of the ants was drawing dangerously close to the hem of her sleeve. You are very smart. No, no, I was talking about the other offer. Her eyes narrowed. Which one? She asked almost dangerously. It inched closer. Why? The position to teach, of course. I presume that you would not want to leave it up to this Kakashi. To teach with his reputation for tardiness. No. She sighed and waved her answer with one hand. Of course, of course. Antenna's sensing the air. And he asked gently, hoping to hear what he would already know what would come out of her mouth. I accept. Good. on the condition that I do not have to teach all year long. My duties are here first. Other matters come later. The figure smiled. The aunt started crawling up her hand and onto her arm. Ah, I see. He gave an all- knowing nod of approval. Sununade raised an eyebrow. But why did you turn to us? Couldn't you have found another teacher just as easily? The man laughed, his white beard glinting from the sunrays. The ant crawled back down and started for the stack of parchments off to the side of the desk. smelling the scent of food nearby. My dear, I am growing old. That was one of the few things the third would tease me about every time I visit. Sununade cut to the point, agitation obvious in her voice. Yes, but why me? The old man just smiled, used to bursts of anger that he had experienced throughout the years. Too close. You are exceptionally bright. Reminds me of one of my students. In fact, incredible child, if I do say so myself. Never misses a beat. Exceptional witch that Granger is. Slamsade nailed the ant before it could reach the important documents inches away. You're getting off track, old man. If I recall correctly, you're not that young yourself, he joked, smiling at the woman who took on the appearances of that of a 20-year-old. HMPF. She brushed her hands on a cloth nearby, making sure that the remnants of the now dead ant were completely gone. Heaven knows how ants were attracted to dead things. All matters aside, I am serious about both missions as you call them. The teaching position is not as important as the transferring students. I agree and I am not as worried about the teaching post in regards as to what you want my men to accomplish. The role of pretending to be transfer students can only be completed by children. No adult, regardless of his amount of training, would be able to act like a teenager for a whole year. There are bound to be some slip-ups. Regardless, I trust my shinobi to get the job done. Now, if only she were able to dispose of the other ants while not being rude in front of her guest. Wise decision. Thank you. And these children I am sending have had more than enough of their share of hardships and struggles. I'm sure they will fit your needs and meet your expectations. Yes, the person they will be protecting has met his share of deaths as well. I expect nothing than the best from the ones you value as I from yours. Now, back to the teaching position I offered you there. While taking a quick peek through the corner of her eyes, she spotted the source of her troubles. One of the scrolls had bits of honey stuck to it after being placed too close to one of the vats during a recent mission involving the sale of bartered goods in a nearby village. Yes, I was getting to that. I said before that I am willing to take the position, but business here in Konaha might occupy me otherwise. That is understandable. Kakashi will be accompanying the children on their mission and will see to them in mystead. She slowly reached out and lifted the parchment from the desk, scanning the piece of paper critically. It was no big deal. She just have to copy the information on another bit of paper another time. For now, she'd have to make sure that none of the other ants could reach it. Ah, yes. I trust that he is an excellent teacher as well. Sununade snorted and muttered under her breath. Depends on what you mean by that. I beg your pardon. She shook her head. Her headache was getting bigger by the minute, and the ants weren't helping one bit. Instead of flicking them off, she now had the urge to grind them all into the brown wood just to make sure they wouldn't come back to haunt her. I was just saying that it depends greatly on what you wanted him to teach. We shinobi might not know about magic compared to other people in your world. Lemonrop came the question from out of nowhere. Hi, Lemonrop. A fascinating candy that I've discovered a little while ago. Helps soothe the throat and mind while maintaining an excellent taste. Would you like one? He reached out, offering a bag of the candy. "No, no, thank you," she gave a short nod. "Are the arrangements acceptable for you? If he is appointed by you, I'm sure it will be." The old man stood up as if preparing to leave. "Now or never?" piped up, voicing her biggest concern. "I have one last question. What exactly is going on?" The old man studied her, brows tightly knit together. When he started speaking, it was almost hesitantly. My dear, you remember the time 50 years ago when the world was in chaos. Sununade shook her head. The old man continued talking. Of course not. You were still but a child. I remember coming here to the Hidden Leaf Village to ask one of your former Hokag for help. But what does this have to do with anything? Many of my fellow colleagues had little reason to believe that the hidden villages even existed. But I sought it out. To my surprise, I found a society, a thriving one, that was not affected by the happenings of the world. And to equal this, my delight came when the first Hokag agreed to help me. Sununade nodded, slightly interested in the sort of story the old man seemed to be telling. Many years later, I came seeking for their help once more, and they readily came to my aid. Why did they help me? They were eager to learn more about the outside world, where even their spies and traveling shinobi had little information to offer. They gave me their aid in exchange for my information and promised that I would not spread word about their society. To this very day, I still honor that promise. And now, to make this more relevant to the task at hand, a strange occurrence happened a few years ago, 16 to be exact. The Dark Lord Voldemort, more commonly known as, you know, who supposedly vanished forever while trying to get rid of a little baby boy. His name is Harry Potter, also known now as the boy who lived. You people sure know how to give names to others. Sunsade smiled Riley. The old man chuckled in response. At first, I wasn't too sure what I was supposed to do with him. I sought counsel with ones who were as wise as I, yet no one could come up with an answer to this problem. What to do with him? How will he be raised? Should one of us take him in? We've had similar problems with one particular child, except not too many people wanted to take him in on account of what he was, she commented, obviously thinking about a certain blonde Jennon. The old man nodded, agreeing with her. Yes, I've had my doubts. I knew it would not be a good idea to introduce him in our community when he was so famous, but I was equally unsure about leaving him unprotected in the world. In the end, it was the Yandimei who offered a suggestion. At the time, he was busy ruling the Hidden Leaf Village and supporting his own family. He said that it would be best if the child remained with his family even if they were not of the best material. I of course agreed with him on more than one account. It was already on my mind that this possibility would be for the better and so I acted upon it delivering the boy to his mother's sister's doorsteps. It saddened me to find that not 2 years later he sacrificed his own life to save his people. I presume that his own son is still around. Yes, even though Narudo may never know it, the Yandimei son is very much alive and well. He is part of that team who will protect your boy who lived. I see. In any case, I've already sent for the paperwork, and it should be arriving within a few days. By Owl. By Owl. The God's eyebrows shot up ever so slightly. By Owl. The aging white-haired man confirmed. I see. The man gave a short bow. Thank you for agreeing to see me upon this matter. No, it is I who thank you. Sununade smiled as she returned the bow. You may leave now. And with that, the old man disappeared with a loud pop, leaving behind a trail of lemon flavored candy flakes on top of the chair. Sununade fixed her attention back to her table and side. Those ants were never going to go away. You want that lazy bum to be our last team member. They ended up in front of an old gohouse where Assuma and his students were currently enjoying a refreshing afternoon game in the open air. Shikamaru was currently in mock concentration, hands in his usual thinking position, which had often misled other Shinobi into thinking it was a peculiar seal of some sort. But Naruto<unk>'s outburst had momentarily caused him to lose his train of thought. And the young Chunin looked up from his seat across his sensei. Shay, how bothersome. Yo, Kakashi raised a hand to greet his fellow Jun and acknowledged the other students. Eno and Shoji looked up from their idea of a go game which involved a contest of who could stack their pieces the higher and returned the greeting. Assuma in turn nodded at the gray-haired man. What brings you here? Kakashi Sano. I was hoping to borrow your student for a moment. Kakashi pointed at Shikamaru. It involves a mission sent by the godm. He motioned to team seven to stay put and they obeyed, joining their fellow Jennine at another table and participating in another one of Eno<unk>s go games. This time she was trying to see how many pieces it would take to fill up the entire board. One. I see. Asuma closed his eyes and puffed his cigarette a few times, contemplating the situation. Jaw. He turned his attention to Shikamaru. We can continue our match after your get back. Hi. The boy responded with little enthusiasm, slowly getting up from his bench before following the masked man towards a secluded area not too far away. Assuma took this little distraction to quickly change a few black and white pieces around, tilting the odds from an unfavorable one to three to a more satisfying result. Well, he asked as soon as they had reached a considerable distance away from prying minds and ears. The Hokag asked me to give you this. The Junan merely handed him a sealed scroll. Shikamaru opened it without hesitation and began reading the instructions left behind. What he read made his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Do you mean to say that the disturbance in the western world might as well come from the same person? That is a very likely assumption. However, there is enough evidence that the disturbance is being caused by someone other than Orochimaru. Though our source cannot say for sure, the old man merely said that this so-called dark force had acquired a new power and ally foreign to what they were accustomed to dealing with. We just need to find out who it is and deal with the situation as quickly as possible. The boy pondered the situation carefully, putting a great deal of thought into what rumors he had heard about the infamous traitor of the leaf. After a considerable amount of time passed, he answered. I'll do it. Kakashi smiled. How that was possible to tell, no one knew. Ah, that's good news. He pointed back to the Go House. Let's head back, shall we? They started walking back slowly, in no hurry to rush back to their fellow teams. Tell me, how much do the others know of the situation? As much as I had revealed to you just now, you're leaving something out of this, aren't you? He had to admit that Narid was pretty insightful and sharp, too. Asuma greeted his subordinate as he saw them approach from a distance. Oi, Shikamaru, time to finish our match. I've waited too long listening to those five argue for the past quarter of an hour or so. He pointed his thumb in the general direction towards the rest of his and Kakashi's teams. The many methods of go playing or butchering, Shikamaru muttered under his breath. They had come up with total to an amazing 52. They were coming up with a 53rd when Shikamaru promptly sat down inside. Kakashi then collected his students and walked them towards the residential section of the village before disappearing in a cloud of smoke. Sue Assuma dragged out the word as an invitation to elaborate on the meeting. What was all that about? Shikamaru just gave a snort before answering with as little effort as possible. Go mission. Assuma mentally groaned. He knew that already, but demanding never prompted Shikimaru to give up information, so he was resorted to coaxing it out of him. And Shay, let's<unk> just get back to the game, old man. The tunin had an annoyed look on his face as if he wanted to ignore the subject altogether. Assuma took the hint before raising his arms in surrender. Okay, okay, he said, letting his student shift his focus on other things. Shikamaru sighed. Where were we? He asked, looking down at the board for the first time since he left to talk to the other Junan. Assuma smiled mischievously, assuring himself that he would win against his student for the first time ever. He leaned up from against the wall and sat a little straighter. Why, I believe I was leading with a 15 to1 advantage. He simply stated, "Amusement in his voice kept to a minimum lest Shikamaru didn't notice it at first." He didn't. The board was looking mighty strange to the ponytailed Shunin until he registered what his sensei had said. just a minute before. What? And so the older man laughed loud and clear, his voice echoing as the wind carried it past the nearby trees. He paused only when he realized that his student was not at all phased. Shay, you know, I can still beat you despite the odds. A pause? Damn. A few hours later, Team 7 and Shikimaru gathered with a few of their belongings in front of the administration office that housed all of the official and tedious occupations of the village. So far, while standing outside, they could hears Sununade's yelling from the second story. From their viewpoint, the Jennon saw a flurry of papers being scattered through the window and hallways, while a number of phones started ringing incessantly. Sununade's voice once again rang clear on top of all of the noise, ordering all the secretarial aids to leave her presence immediately as she announced that she had an enormous headache. A second later, a chorus of replies answered, followed by many feet scurrying away from her room. There was an occasional loud thud as bodies collided into each other, trying to escape the wrath of the woman in charge. Kakashi and the others winced in sympathy. "Ouch, that's got to hurt." He walked towards the main doors over a great many papers on the ground and ushered the others in. "After you," he simply stated. They walked past the Chunin guards stationed inside near the reception area, giving a nod to the girl working there. Kakashi quickly made his way up the stairs. His subordinates kept up with his pace and soon they were all waiting in front of the hoage's office. Kakashi gave a knock which was soon answered by a come in from the other side of the door. Rough day, Hokag sama. Kakashi asked while he opened the door tossad's office. She merely started rubbing her temples as if the action would soothe her headache faster. Clients have been calling in. New orders have been scheduled. The wagons have been delayed, so shipping is taking a while. Borders between the wind country are currently being disputed. The prime minister is having a few problems of his own and is asking us for help, which I have no idea how to deal with. A few of my scouts have claimed that Orochimaru is still a danger and he's planning something right as we speak. The academy is having a few water leaks. Residents living near Area 44 have been complaining about the bug problem again. The swamps in Amse. At this point, Kakashi started to tune the older woman out, wondering if she even took the time to breathe during the whole run on sentence. He looked to his students and they two were doing the same thing. Sasake was staring out the window. Sakura was straightening her robe. Shikamaru looked like he was falling asleep against the wall and Narut was busy doing something to the door that involved a bucket and some water. Cut that out. The Junan whispered as he lightly punched the jennon in the ribs. Nar just scowlled before he set the bucket down next to his feet. Where he had gotten the bucket and water, Kakashi didn't know. The fire lord's wife has lost her pet cat again and my aids are a bunch of idiots. Calm down, Baba. Nar grumbled. It's<unk> not like the world is coming to an end or anything. The room went deadly quiet. Sasake and Shikamaru in particular were questioning Naruto's intelligence. Sakura and Kakashi wisely chose from commenting. Ba. Shikamaru started voice skeptical. Ba. Sasake followed one eyebrow raised. What? Nade ended up almost throwing the blond-haired blue-eyed kid out the window. Fortunately, the office desk was in her way, and the angered woman settled for hammering him into the floor instead. After Nar peeled himself off the wooden floor, they finally started talking about the proposed mission they had just accepted. "Ow!" Nar mumbled under his breath. "That old hag still punches strong." "Sunady" abruptly stopped talking. Nar Sakura fiercely whispered into his ears. Do you want to get beaten up again? Quickly coming to attention, the blonde boy snapped up and tried to look as innocent as possible. As I was saying, Sununade returned an icy glare before resuming her speech. I have already given you the basics of this mission. Shikamaru will be posing as the team leader while Kakashi is working under the orders of Dumbledore San himself. There will be an owl waiting for us with the necessary means to get to England. As if on Q, a brown bird flew in from the opened window and landed nearby sununade's hand. With a what a weird object, she relieved it from its package before sending it off with an already prepared treat and turned to the five shinobi standing in her room. The headmaster assured me that he has secured an ample amount of money in the wizarding banks for you to purchase anything you might need. The leaf nin nodded and gathered their belongings, preparing for their departure. Oh, and one last thing. They all turned to meet the God's face. No one is to know that you come from a ninja society or that one even exists in all. Dumbledore has been very kind as to keep us a secret up until now. I suspect that the dark forces stirring in the western world have found us out. It might be Orochimaru. It might not. All I can say is that the leader of the dark forces has an affinity for snakes much like our traitor. The reason you are there to gather information is to see how much they know of us and if that knowledge can be erased if it puts the leaf in danger. So started wrapping up her little speech she prepared. Remember you are all proud shinobi of the hidden village of Konam. Do your duties well and perform them to the best of your abilities. With that, the port key that was placed on the table started emitting a faint stream of chakra-like energy. 10-second warning, Sununade murmured before ordering them to all touch the weirdly shaped boot. three. "This had better work," someone muttered under their breath before the team was jerked into a swirling mass of colors as the Portuguese transported them into another part of the world. Tom grumbled. "Today was a boring day." He was busy wiping some of the glass mugs clean after a family of four departed their table and left for their rooms. His mood was evident as he scowlled at a nearby waiter, clearly wanting something better to happen. Times weren't good anymore. Oh, sure. The sun was shining bright as ever. Not that it was often sunny. he muttered. Customers were happy, and the money was steadily flowing in, but he couldn't help but feel slightly gloomy. Nothing ever seemed exciting anymore. There were no windows to fix, no doors to replace, no new people to talk to, no random monsters crawling about, and no accidents requiring his attention. But most of all, there was no excitement in the air, no mysterious and strange things happening to keep his interest sparked. Perhaps that was because it was summer and the tourists from other countries were slowly starting to depart for their homeland. But there were other factors too. For one, term didn't start yet. So the fresh air and mischievous pranks new and returning students brought with them was scarce. For another, there weren't many rumors flying about or people interested in sharing spreading them. Well, if you don't count the ones about, you know, who and the boy who lived, those were common as everyday house flies. Still, Tom couldn't help but think that there was either something wrong about the rumors being spread because he got a pretty good impression about Harry Potter the last time he stayed at the leaky cauldron. Or the boy was a delusional and unstable teenager like the papers mentioned. He scoffed. The Daily Prophet was known for printing a biased account for anything famous or infamous that has ever happened. Sometimes, for the heck of it, he'd go into the muggle world just to see if they had any accurate leads compared to the wizarding press. Breaking from his train of thought, he set down the polished glass mug and picked another one up. Wipe shine. Wipe shine. You know what? Maybe he'd get another job elsewhere closer to all the action. Wipe shine. Wipe shine. Yeah, at Hogsme perhaps. At least it' have visitors all year round. Wipe shine. Wipe shine. Merlin. The repetition was getting to him. Wipe shine. Wipe shine. Wipe. Fog the glass. Shine. Patience. Patience. Wipe. Shine. Wipe. Shine. There was more than one reason as to why Tom was known as a simple man. He didn't ask too many questions when it came to strange and interesting topics. He had an almost one-tracked mind. Sophisticated topics often flew over the top of his head. And wipe shine. Wipe shine. If things didn't happen soon, he was going to blow up. Wipe, shine, wipe, she boom. Which was why the simple-mindedness in Tom rejoiced when there was a loud explosion in his inn and a great hole in the ground when other managers would have been furious for the damage caused to their property. "Thank Merlin. Something happened at last?" Tom peered over his counter as he heard voices filtering up from below. "Everybody all right?" he asked, hoping that no one was hurt. He was met with a few voices, none of which seemed to be in any language he understood. Why the hell are we in a ditch? Kakashi sensei, I believe you are sitting on my arm. Narut [ __ ] get your back off my face, Naray, how bothersome. Dobby, your incessant yelling is not going to help us get out of this mess any faster. Okay, maybe asking Merlin for a distraction wasn't the greatest idea. At this moment, one of the room service ladies working at the Leaky Cauldron walked in from her afternoon checkup, carrying a bag of laundry to be done. She looked at Tom, then the hole in the floor, and knowing Tom's personality, shrugged the whole ordeal off as something normal and not out of the ordinary. Another lady walked into the room, saw the hole in the floor, looked up at Tom, then seeing his gleeful expression and the nonchalant look on the room service lady's face, shook her head, and walked right back out, muttering something indistinguishable. Tom sighed. Just his luck. Things always seem to happen at the wrong moment. women. They never barge in on you when you're at your most charming, groomed, witty, and sane state. This was why he was stuck in an inn, working with a bunch of old crabs day in and day out. What? Wasn't it just a second ago that he wished for a distraction? He made his way around the counter, past the tables, towards the hole, and peered down. What he met surprised him. There was a group of four, no, five. He had mistaken an orange outfit for a large duffel bag. Oddly dressed people arguing amongst themselves in a curious fashion. Well, you couldn't really say they were arguing. Two of them, a blonde and a pink-haired girl, were yelling at each other while the rest were trying to ignore them. Narubaka, you were the one who panicked and sent out your chakra in a form of attack. Who said I panicked? I thought an enemy was nearby, but look at what you did. We're stuck in an impossibly large ditch in the middle of nowhere, and we have no idea if we're at the right place. Hey, I said it wasn't my fault. And they kept volleying back and forth while Tom scratched his head, wondering if they knew they were stuck in the middle of his inn. The gray-haired man off to the side seemed to have noticed him and looked up, acknowledging the inkeeper. "Yo," he said, lifting his hand in a form of greeting. "Could you by any chance point us to the leaky cauldron?" We seem to have gotten lost and fallen into this pit. This apparently caused the two bickering teenagers to stop fighting altogether. Hey, you never told us you could speak English. Sensei, please get us out of here before this jerk annoys us any further. Jerk? Who said I'm a jerk? Me, Doby? Yeah, I could point you to the leaky cauldron. You're in it. Or should I say under it? Tom pointed to the hole they were stuck in. It seems like you blew up the floor just now. Ah, I see. Sorry for the mess. First time using a transcontinental port. I'm afraid one of the students were unaccustomed to the side effects of using a transportation device. Tom chuckled. That's fine. A bit accidental magic never hurt nobody. Well, at least not that I know of. He looked down at the people again. You need any help getting out? I've got a few spare rope ladders down the hall in case something like this ever happened. The man looked around, then shook his head. No, I think we're fine. I should be out in a second. Four. Poof. The man reappeared beside Tom carrying a small traveling case with what he assumed to be his clothes. Now that they were on the same floor, Tom noticed that the stranger was wearing a face mask and a green vest. Surely it was a bit too warm to be wearing more clothes than necessary. The man hardly seemed to notice Tom's starring, but was instead crouching at the edge of the hole and calling his fellow companions. You four need to get out by yourselves. I'll be checking in with the manager and get a few rooms to ourselves. Meet me by the time I get the room keys or you'll be sleeping on the ground. With that, Kakashi turned to go to the check-in counter. Tom had a funny look on his face. Don't you want to help them out? He asked, pointing back to the hole. The stranger looked at Tom and shrugged it off. Nah, they should be able to do it themselves. Hm. But they're mighty young to know how to apara. The sound of three puffs filled the room. Okay, never mind. Then after a few seconds, "Hey, where's that blonde kid?" As if to answer his question, Tom heard a loud, unintelligible voice yelling from the bottom of the pit. "Damn it, get me a rope, O something. I don't know how to do that stupid poof thing yet. Get me a rope, I tell you." The pink-haired girl sighed in exasperation before spinning on her heels to yell something back at the blonde. Though he had no clue what they were saying, it was obvious that she was berating the boy. Tom started to say, "I'll go get the rope then." When he heard the boy yelling again to what seemed like no one in particular. Fine then, if no one will help me out, then I'll just do it myself. Cage bush and no jutsu. A bunch of replicas of the blonde boy appeared out of nowhere and started helping the original guy up by stacking on top of one another. One of the other boys, the one with earrings in a ponytail, who had recently been quiet, spoke up. So much for being discreet. The boy with bangs looked slightly annoyed when he spoke. His voice reflected his mood and said Tom on an edge. He didn't know that young teenagers were capable of exhibiting so much malice in their words. Baka, we weren't supposed to show off our jutsu like that. No one's supposed to know that we're not wizards. The blonde kid managed to pull himself up and there was another loud poof as 20 or so clones disappeared into a pile of smoke. Neat little trick there, Shap. Tom congratulated, patting the kid on the back, which nearly sent him tumbling back into the pit. Hey, watch it, old man. The gray-haired man shrugged his shoulders before saying to himself, "Looks like no one sleeps on the floor at night." He straightened himself up before extending a hand toward the other man. "Hello, I'm Kakashi Tom," he said, returning a hand while smiling from ear to ear. Approximately 30 minutes later, Sakura sighed in relief as she sank into her bed. It was a pretty decent room with two poster beds that overlooked the rest of London. So far, she didn't have to share it with anybody, and that was good news. Being stuck with four guys certainly didn't suit her very much. Now, if only she could figure out a way to remove the language barrier. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her door. Sakura Chan, came Kakashi's voice from the other side of the wood. Hi, she answered. It's open. Kakashi opened the door and pointed down the hall. I'll be out for just a little bit, so be sure to stay in the inn. We<unk>ll go get your school supplies tomorrow, so don't venture off too far. With that, he vanished, leaving the young Kunoichi pondering what in the world her sensei was up to this time. "Oi! Oi!" A blur of orange shot straight into her room. "Where's the old man?" he demanded, looking about for any traces of his teacher. Sakura did what came natural to her when she saw something invading her territory without her permission. She threw. or it was more accurate to say she threw something. The nearest object that was available to her, which fortunately for Narut wasn't a bunch of shuriken or canai. She kept those in her side pouch. No, what was currently in her hands was a book she borrowed from Tom with Kakashi's help. A big, very heavy book. It landed with a thud after bouncing off of Nar. Gau, are you trying to kill me? She huffed. How long did it take you to figure that out? Serves you right. Nar scowlled, rubbing the back of his head. He was sure there was a big welt forming already where the book had hit him. I just wanted to know where the old man went. He frowned, trying to make her feel guilty for the pain she caused him. Sakura just turned her nose away. He just stepped out. Didn't say where. Arg. I'm going to get that closed book pervert the minute he gets back. He hollered into the ceiling. Not if we tie you up and chain you to the bed first, Shikamaru grumbled, stepping into the room with his arms crossed. Not too far behind, Sasake followed equally as annoyed. But I don't want to be stuck in the same room as him, Narut whed. Then I'll switch rooms with you, Sasuke said, agitation evident. Just stop making so much noise. The other two nodded in agreement. Fine, fine. Nar waved his hand. Just don't get your prehead worried. I'll shut up for now. He left the room still massaging his head. Sasake raised an eyebrow at this peculiar behavior. Just what did you throw at him? Sakura pointed to the book on the floor. Sasake took a look at it before smiling Riley. You threw a 10-lb weight a distance of 5 m at a fellow teammate's head. Shikamaru asked, "What were you trying to do, woman? Kill him? Five?" It was at this point Sasuke left the room saying, "Better move my stuff before the idiot starts complaining again." Shikamaru stopped wondering how on Earth Team 7 had survived the past few months without tearing themselves to shreds. "It was a miracle that Nar lived as long as he did with all the mischief he had been getting into. "That man had better not be getting himself into trouble," he muttered before also leaving Sakura's room. "Little was it known that at that very moment, the aforementioned Junan was strolling along a very quiet road in Little Winging," "Suri!" passing by a little play park as the sun started setting and the street lights flickered on. The first thing he realized was that he was running really, really fast. Like, firebolt fast. He mildly noted that he wasn't much of an athletic person, and that moving like this wasn't possible for him or for any human being at all. An image of Dudley chasing him up a tree with a bulldog surfaced briefly, as well as the figure of a plump lady inflating to the size of a small baby whale. Reconsidering what was happening, he wondered where this vast forest had come from. There certainly weren't any big mountains where he lived either. As strange as the new environment seemed, it was nothing compared to what he had experienced before. His mind was still a little bit hazed, and it seemed like he had just awoken from a dream or a transl-like state. The term death ritual flashed through his mind briefly as he tried to sort out what exactly was going on. All the while, words kept floating up from what he assumed to be his memory, though the terminology was new yet familiar. At the same time, there was this feeling of urgency. A voice that was calling out to him, begging him, ordering him with all speed to reach a certain destination, country border, was the word that came up. That was just beyond the forest. And that was just what he was doing, running with all his might. The reason was unknown and vague, but it had something to do with the idea of revenge and limitless power. The trees were sweeping past him, the individual branches and trunks too blurred to count them. He was sprinting as fast as his legs would go, though he recognized neither the setting nor the clothes that were put on his back, plus the small and insignificant fact that he was being chased by dangerous and lethal beings. By who or why was beyond him, but there were people running not too far behind. As far as he could tell, he had a group of friend backing him up as well, trying to give him time to run from the scene, especially one particular blonde boy. as if to respond to this train of thought. A voice called out somewhat muffled by the long distance between them. "You cowardly bastard. Just wait until I catch up with you. I'm going to make you regret ever leaving us in the first place." But Harry kept on running, leaping from tree branch to tree branch, not even bothering to take a break from exhaustion or fatigue. He wasn't tired anyway. Brushing his hair out of his eyes, he noticed that he didn't have his glasses on either. contacts maybe, but this was given very little thought as something came flying from behind and hit the tree he had just leapt from. Crouching down on the floor, Harry took one look back as he saw the blonde figure steadily draw closer before continuing in the direction he had been going. He finally reached it, the waterfall, the edge of the country, the only thing standing in the way between him and his future. Behind him was the past, that unforgettable pit of malice and hell. There he was revered as the boy who survived a horrible massacre. The only one ever known to have escaped his terrible fate. The distant noise of a subtle shock wave made the birds scatter into the air as two enemies fought over his flight from home. His allies should have gotten rid of all of the pesky insects that were chasing him. Especially if what his senses told him were true. The red-headed pest was chasing him, too. He was the only one even worth putting any effort into fighting. The smart brainiac, the bumbling chubby boy, the annoying blonde git. They were just flies. He looked forward to dueling again. Their previous match had been interrupted the last time by an unfortunate turn of events. He half expected the redhead to step out from the shadows. When he sensed someone starting to speak, he couldn't help but feel that his anticipation for the much weighted opponent fell drastically. It wasn't who he wished it to be. Why do you hate him? The figure from the shadows said, "Why do you try so hard to gain power to defeat this guy?" The voice came from behind. Without looking, Harry knew who it was, who was following him, what he wanted. He whirled around, bringing up his past to memory, reliving his hurt, his pain, his suffering. "And why do you want to know?" The blonde figure shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the murderous glare, unmoved by the killer intent rising in the atmosphere. Orders from the old hag herself. "Ever since the old guy in charge died, she's been acting as the commander-in-chief of the place. You should have known that. It wasn't that long ago." He didn't. But the blonde did not seem to realize this. Harry hadn't been paying attention to the recent turn of events. Who died? Who took charge. The other boy became quiet, and for a while, the wind exchanged the unspoken words between the two. The blonde boy spoke up, this time, stating what was on both of their minds. It's not like running away will get you anywhere. Harry felt the tips of his eyes grow hot with energy, anger building up at the very pit of his stomach with every step the boy took to get closer to him. Why? You want to know why? He asked, answering the first question that had been spoken when the two met just now. He killed my parents, that's why. He could see her, his mother, screaming in agony as she drew her last breath before the killer left her there. Her body an empty shell without her soul encased within. This was just a part of his imagination. He knew he never got to see her die. Or did he? Conflicting images kept coming to him, flooding his senses with unfamiliar scenes. He was much too young to have remembered the details. But something else inside of him told otherwise. She was dead before he could have gotten home from training that day. He killed my family. He took everything away from me. The thing was that the words coming out of his mouth were automatic as if it he was in someone else's body. These emotions, these memories, even these movements last time he checked, he could not perform a somersault from the top of a tree branch to the floor 20 ft below. They weren't his, that was for sure. Yet at the same time, they were. He felt like a mannequin on tape stuck in play mode. He couldn't control what he was doing, what he was saying. Everything seemed to go on with or without his consent. He was a soul trapped within a body that moved on its own. It was strange. No matter how hard he tried, Harry couldn't get anything straight. For instance, he knew that he went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But a little voice in his head said that he'd been going to an academy for all of his life. He couldn't recall what his family looked like either. He made my life miserable, a living hell. He is the reason why I'm famous, why I'm infamous. First, his mother had red hair and green eyes. Then, she had black hair and dark eyes. Harry's mom was a shufu, a housewife. Then, she was working alongside of a ministry. She was brave and brilliant, and then quiet and soft-spoken. First, she would see him off to school with his backpack and lunch pale. Then, he would get a glimpse of her through the mirror of her eyes, see her scream through the dementor's horrid visions. He didn't know what was going on. Why this person in front of him had made him so angry. As far as he knew, Draco would never act this way to stand before him to ask why he hated Voldemort. So, wasn't it Malfoy who wanted to team up with the Dark Lord in the first place? That bastard killed them all. He silently slipped a hand inside a pocket and picked up something vaguely familiar. Closing his fist around his weapon, he clenched his teeth and spat out his last warning, hoping that his opponent would step aside, hoping at the same time that he wouldn't. Now get out of my way before I kill you. His opponent merely scoffed. You think I'm going to lose to a wimp like you? Forget it. Fingering what he assumed to be his wand. He wasn't sure. Everything seemed to be so out of place. Harry grinned fiercely, eyes filled with lust for blood. He brought out his weapon and started twirling around on his index finger. I'm warning you," Harry said evenly with deliberate coolness. "Get out of my way." He raised the right hand over his head, the object grasped firmly with relative ease. He wanted to shout Expeleramis at the top of his lungs to disarm the opponent who sported a similar weapon as the one he himself was carrying. Heck, he wanted to shout a lot of things at this guy, Stupify, Crusio, Avadavra. Each worse than the last. But things did not turn out the way he expected. As fast as he had raised his hand, his opponent shot something in his general direction. It was a conjured metal object that was magic to follow heat signatures. Thinking quickly, Harry jumped aside, allowing the projectile to sweep past him back to its owner. They brandished their weapons again before slowly moving their feet in an almost dancel-like way, circling around each other without regards to the time that was passing by. The deafening roar of the falling water had no impact as the two mortal rivals stood in complete silence, anticipating their opponent's next move. After a few more minutes of tediously attacking and blocking, Harry made a more daring move and sent the blonde teen somersaulting with a well- aimed kick to the chest. The boy retaliated and charged, throwing Harry over the waterfall to the perilous rocks below. But before he could fall into the water, he was surprised to see that he was standing on the cliff side with a magical charm placed on the bottom of his feet to keep him from losing his grip. And the blonde charged at him again, pausing only to regain his balance as they slowly fought their way down the cliff and onto solid land again. All the while, Harry's anger continued to grow with an unknown hatred, fueling his adrenaline, coaxing him to keep on fighting. And by mistake, he had tapped something deep inside of his very being. The white hot anger that had been boiling inside had finally burst into flame. It was as if time itself had slowed down, allowing him to see things before they even happened. He felt powerful. The raw energy that was built within him had come out of his right hand, forming a barrier of magic so strong and majestic that he had at first mistaken it for the Petronis charm. But his corpial patronis was a stag, not some shapeless ball of energy that crackled with each jolt. And the blonde boy wasn't a bit phased. He too had a mass of energy formed within his hand as he waited for Harry to finish preparing his attack. By now, the two had backed away from each other long enough to put considerable distance between them. Unable to wait any longer, the blonde starting sprinting at the black-haired teen. Harry followed suit and started running as well. Their meeting point destined somewhere near the bottom of the waterfall. Sasake. Harry ignored the blonde calling his name and chose to feed more energy into the spell he was casting. A burst of brilliant light shot out from his hand and connected with the other boy's attack. He heard himself yell something indistinguishable before he saw the two energies collide and erupt, emitting a force so radiant that he felt like he was going blind from its sheer magnitude. Die, Narudo. There was an explosion that rocked the ground and sent a tremendous wave of pure energy that could be seen all the way from the watchtowers located in Konahagakir. Harry was knocked backwards and ran into the rock statue that was carved into the cliffside. His head started throbbing painfully as a prickling sensation started making his left shoulder burn as if it were on fire and the world started fading to black. He dimly realized that the other boy was still breathing and he himself was losing consciousness. But as he felt his legs buckle underneath him, he woke up suddenly clutching his bed covers while drenched in cold sweat. Looking around, he quickly identified all of the objects in the room as his own. What had just happened had merely been a dream. The forest, the mountains, the waterfall. They had been a figment of his imagination. One, he was back home, as much as you could call a broken down and unwanted room home. But Harry didn't care. Glancing at the clock that hung on the wall, he was startled to see that it was 5 midnight. Only a few minutes after had he fallen asleep. He was now 16. The next morning had turned out to be very interesting in the eyes of the spectators who watched the scene unfold before them in the usually calm and quiet corridors of the leaky cauldron. First, there had been an unusual girl roaming around the hallway, knocking on random doors. Nothing was strange except for the fact that she had pink hair and did not speak a work of English or anything vaguely familiar for that matter. Then there had been another teenager roaming the hallways, also asking random people a few questions in the same jargon. He seemed to be very agitated, for he constantly scratched his blonde hair and spoke in great volumes when he thought no one was listening. Others had seen an oddly good-looking black-haired boy sitting in the dining room, absent-mindedly poking his breakfast with what appeared to be a set of thin wands. He was muttering under his breath while he played with his food, trying to pass the time by complaining to no one in particular. At least these eggs didn't turn a slight shade of green or magenta with his not so gentle proddding. If there had been a translator available in the building, he or she would have immediately said that this occurrence was no big deal, as the group of children was looking for their teacher, who had mysteriously disappeared on them. The few people who had met these new strangers the day before were mildly curious, but did nothing to interact with them. New wizards came in every so often, and cultural barriers were a hindrance no one wanted to bother with. Then again, having your only legal guardian suddenly vanish in the middle of a strange and potentially dangerous world was an obstacle to be reckoned with. Kakashi sensei had not shown up last night like he had promised he would, and the shinobi were getting increasingly worried. Not for the Jun's safety, but for the completion of their mission. The ponytailed boy, as far as anyone knew, which consisted of Tom and possibly one of the maids who cleaned the windows. He was sitting on the roof of the edifice, watching the gloomy gray clouds roll across the sky. London doesn't have the nice weather like China does, too. Harry woke up to the sounds of someone knocking harshly on the door. Quickly scrambling out of bed, he made sure that none of his wizarding materials could be seen underneath the bed covers as he cautiously approached the other side of his room. Carefully walking over the random objects lying on the floor, he reached the door with relative ease. The knocking stopped briefly to be replaced by a somewhat muffled voice on the other side. Wake up, boy, or you'll be scrubbing dishes before your friends come and pick you up. Yes, Aunt Patunia, he quickly answered. His aunt gruffed in reply before walking back downstairs to the kitchen. Friends, why would they be coming here? No one had really mentioned anything about visiting him on his birthday. Not unless you counted Owling gifts as visiting. Besides, if this was the Durelli's idea of a birthday present, then it sure wasn't a good one. The best thing they could ever do to him would be to completely ignore him for the rest of the day instead of trying to give him whatever they considered good enough to be his presence. Then again, Dobby would probably have liked the things Harry might just pass on instead of keeping for himself. Wait. Ron had hinted in one of his letters that someone from the order might drop by to see how he was doing just in case the Derslley's had been mistreating him again. Harry just hoped that nothing drastic was going to happen like the last few times wizards had ended up interacting with his relatives. Please don't let them blow up the living room as if on Q. Uncle Vernon's voice bellowed from the kitchen table. boy, you'd better make sure those friends of yours don't do anything stupid," he groaned. "If the Weasley's came, just how was he going to keep them in line?" He was hoping that perhaps some other member of the order would drop by instead, but then again, visiting wasn't the same as being picked up. He wasn't sure, but neither of his friends had said that he was actually leaving the Derslley's anytime soon. Maybe his aunt had gotten her hopes up just a tad bit too high this time around. A sound interrupted his thoughts, so he finally managed to put on a pair of decent jeans. After a few seconds, he registered that it was the doorbell. Someone was already here. A pair of heavy set footsteps quickly reached the door as Harry flung on a green sweater and scrambled out of his room. Glasses hanging a skew on his face. The sight that greeted him at the end of the staircase, however, made him wish he hadn't come out at all. There was an intimidating man at the door with a stern face and briefcase in hand. He looked like what one would call a lawyer judging from his attire, cleancut appearance, and imposing demeanor. The man cleared his throat and straightened his tie before acknowledging the people in the room. Excuse me, is there a Mr. Vernon Dursley residing in this house? Harry was hoping that this wasn't the man Dumbledore had sent because he looked a little too muddle for anyone to take seriously. Don't forget scary. He looked too mean to be a friend as well. Then again, Mattey Moody was distorted enough to make anyone wary. A sharp, repulsed look from the stranger that was directed to the Dersley's back made Harry Grimace. Ouch. He doesn't seem like the type Dumbledore would send, but at least he hadn't been seen. Dudley, on the other hand, was ecstatic that it wasn't one of those people. This man looked like he was a businessman more than the wizards he feared, so he had no trouble warming up to the stranger. Harry took this chance to quickly sneak back upstairs and sat in the hallway. At least this way he would be safe from being spotted and he would still be able to hear what was going on in kitchen. Why, of course, good sir, he replied, ushering the lawyer businessman in. He is in the dining room reading the morning paper. Thank you, he said, stepping out of the entrance way. I hope I am not interrupting anything. Of course not, Vernon answered. Might I ask the occasion of this visit? Ah, yes. Pardon my intrusion. My name is Seis Snape and I am here from the local public relations department. Three. At this point, Harry gave a start. Snape as in the Snape. What on earth's name was he doing here? Public relations? Yes, it is a branch of the government. I am a social worker. Harry raised an eyebrow. Social worker? Since when was Professor Snape working on behalf of the government? Oh, I see. This time Vernon was looking a little flustered. I afraid I don't know exactly why you would be visiting my hoe. I have received several anonymous tips from different people concerning the well-being of a certain individual in your household. Would you mind if I look around a bit? At this point, the Derslley's were dreading what was going to happen if the man were to go upstairs and discover a little disheveled boy sporting bruises on his arms and legs, wearing tattered clothing that was much too big on him. Why, of course. Vernon shakily stood up from his chair and pointed in the direction of the parlor room. if you would please." The man nodded in affirmation. Before opening the door, Vernon turned to Dudley and said loud enough for Harry to hear clearly, "Why don't you go upstairs and clean any trash from your room?" It was understood that Harry had to make himself scarce. If the social worker were to find him in this state, then he would be taken away from his aunt and uncle's house. As much as he loved the idea, this was the only place that provided an adequate sense of protection and security to both himself and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. protection from Voldemort. That is, his relatives still love to abuse him by making him do an unreasonable amount of chores every day while continually bossing him around. At least Death Eaters couldn't just barge in with the blood charm, whatchamacallit, thing in place. Or at least he hoped not. Harry wasn't a specialist on charms or sacrifices, but he was betting his life on the fact that no one had ever tried to attack him inside Patunia's house yet. Outside was a different matter. The dementors from last summer were proof enough. Too bad the charm didn't keep away vengeful muggles who had a knack of making Harry's life miserable either. Dudley's labored climbing up the stairs made him jerk back to the problem at hand. "Right, social worker. Here, Mom said to bring you downstairs to the cupboard again," he said in the quietest whisper he could manage. "Harry, just followed the small giant down inside." As Patunia signaled to his old room, he couldn't help but make sarcastic remarks to himself about the stupidity of the situation. Vernon, on the other hand, was talking loudly to the guest in order to cover up any noises that might have been made during the course of find a place to hide Harry. After a great many minutes of hearing his uncle assert in a great voice that there was nothing he was hiding, Harry's feeling of unease lessened somewhat. The social worker had already visited upstairs and seemed to have found nothing out of the ordinary, except I am just curious, Mr. Dersley, why is there an extra bed here when it is clear that there are only three occupants in the house? Oh, that's for my sister Marge. She usually visits us during the holidays and spends the weekend here and leaves her personal belongings lying about the room. Harry heard a small curse escape from his uncle's mouth as they came back downstairs. Well, at least the spiders seem to be happy to have me here, he thought. Those are my little dutters things. He likes to work in the guest room sometimes when he can't concentrate in his own. The man seemed to buy that explanation as he followed Vernon back towards where they had started. Ah, then I take it that he likes history. Eh, Vernon's confusion was made known in his voice. The two adults stopped right in front of the cupboard where Harry was hiding. Trying to get a better view, the teenager chanced a quick peek through the metal vents on the door. Unfortunately, the man's back was facing him. History. Your son seems to have a keen interest on the earlier civilizations. Half of the things in that room were modeled after more traditional objects than the ones you find in the marketplace today. The man shifted his weight a little, and for a brief instant, Harry saw something in the social worker's hands. Something that looked like it belonged back in his room under his desk. Like this quill, for an example. British laws have long ago outlawed the making of calligraphy pens from quill feathers. Your son happened to have this extremely well-made imitation. I didn't know that they sold these things in the market. Maybe Professor Snape had taken some polyjuice potion to make him look like a muggle so that he had a way of sneaking Harry out of his house without his relatives getting too worked up about it. Impossible. Harry was sure that the potion would have worn off by now if Snape had taken it before he entered the house. They had spent a long time talking in the parlor room about Uncle Vernon's business before taking their conversation out into the living room before actually going upstairs to do any searching around. Besides, the snape he knew wasn't that much of a muggle know at all. There was no way that he would have been able to come up with all that crap about working for the government and such. His uncle looked like he was sweating bullets as he started staring in the direction of a not so insignificant cupboard under the staircase. Harry himself felt the way his uncle looked. How the heck did this guy find his Hogwarts things? Why, yes, it appears to be that way. For a brief second, the man stared hard at the object in his hands as if trying to bore a hole through it before handing it to Vernon. I'd best be going now. My superiors would want me to finish my report as soon as possible. His uncle dumbly nodded as an answer before showing the man to the door. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. After the man went away, he would be able to wait for his friends in peace. Maybe, just maybe, it was possible that there was, as much as he hated the thought, another seisape in this world, one who looked younger, had his brown hair trimmed in a barber shop, wore an expensive suit, hopefully had no relation to his potions master, and didn't work for Hogwarts. Improbable, but not impossible. Oh, there was one thing I forgot to do. The man stopped walking towards the door and faced the Patunia and Dudley, who had just emerged from hiding in the kitchen. Do any of you know of a Harry Potter? Harry's breathing quickened. The idea of the man being an ordinary muggle was half tossed out the window by now. If it really had been Professor Snape, wouldn't he have turned back within an hour after coming here? Or maybe it was possible that the whole this guy has the same name as someone I know thing wasn't a weird coincidence at all. But a death eater in disguise using the professor's name to buy Harry a false sense of security. Definitely not impossible. Harry Potter. Never heard of him. My sister was married to a man named Potter, but they died years ago in a car accident after they had too much to drink from a Halloween party. Fortunately, Harry had enough sense to keep from rebutting his aunt's lie. But that didn't stop the boards from creaking when he moved around to keep the circulation in his legs from getting cut off. Plus, it didn't help that his elbow ran into a shelf and knocked off a bowling ball and a few other objects such as shoes and umbrellas from the weakened boards. Harry didn't realize that the Derslley's had filled the old closet with a few things after he had moved out. From the silence in the rest of the room, Harry assumed that the others had heard him moving and the objects falling as well. What exactly are you trying to hide from me, Dursley? Is it something you don't want me to find? The man asked in an almost dangerous tone. As if shaken by his state of panic, Vernon cast a weary look at the cupboard. Is it by chance hidden in that place under the stairs? I've noticed that you tended to glance in that direction every time I hid upon a tedious subject. Oh crap, crap, crap, crap, sir. The last thing he wanted was to be discovered after all the hiding he had done. And quite suddenly, Harry Potter found himself staring face to face with a man he had never met before in his life. Hello, Mr. Potter. Good to be finally meeting you at last. The end. Thanks for watching. Also, remember to subscribe and like this video. See you in the next video.