When he looked back, even a month later, Harry Potter found he had only scattered memories of the days following the Third Task, and the ordeal in the graveyard of Little Hangleton. It was as though he had been through too much to take in any more.

The recollections he did have were very painful. The worst, perhaps, was his meeting with the Diggorys. He didn't know what he was going to say-how could he offer comfort to the people whose son had been murdered simply because he happened to be with Harry? They were very kind, however, and made it clear that they did not blame him for what had happened. On the contrary, both thanked him for returning Cedric's body to them.

Harry seized the sack of gold on the bedside table. The Minister of Magic had presented it to him as the official winner of the Triwizard Tournament, but Harry could never look at it without thinking that Cedric had deserved it far more than he did. He got a hot, sick feeling in his stomach whenever his eyes fell on the bag, and now he seized his chance to be rid of it.

"You take this," he told Mrs. Diggory. "It should've been Cedric's; I mean, he got there first. You take it-"

But she backed away from him. "Oh no, it's yours, dear. We…we couldn't accept that. You keep it."

Still confined to his bed in the Hospital Wing by Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, Harry could only watch the Diggorys walk away with their arms around each other, and sigh.

Harry's next visitors arrived just after lunch the following day, levitating with both their wands a sparkling clean-though clearly freshly stolen-toilet seat. Harry roared with laughter at Fred's and George's attempt to cheer him up. Madam Pomfrey, however, was less amused, and vanished it with a wave of her own wand before giving the freckled, redheaded Twins a blistering lecture on hospital hygiene.

As the two turned to leave, Harry stopped them and said, "Here, take this."

Before either of them could protest, Harry picked up the sack of prize money and shoved it into George's hands.

"What?" said Fred, looking flabbergasted.

"Take it," Harry repeated firmly. "I don't want it."

"You're mental," said George, trying to push it back at Harry.

"No, I'm not," said Harry. "Take it, and get inventing. It's for the joke shop. Think of it as an investment, if you like. Take it. If you don't, I'm throwing it down the drain, because I don't want it and I don't need it. But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. I've got a feeling we're going to need them more than usual before long."

"Harry," said George weakly, weighing the money bag in his hands, "There's got to be a thousand Galleons in here."

"Yeah," said Harry, grinning. "Just don't tell your mum where you got it…"

"Harry-" Fred began again, but Harry had had enough, and he pulled out his wand.

"Look," he said flatly, "take it, or I'll hex you. I know some good ones now."


Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower that afternoon with a smile on his face, which only grew wider when he saw his two best friends waiting for him. Ron Weasley, the twins' younger brother, was just as red-haired as they were, though he was taller and far more freckly. He was playing a game of Wizard's Chess with Hermione Granger, their brilliant, bushy-brown-haired other best friend. Brilliant she might have been, but Hermione was not much of a strategist, and Ron was, as usual, decimating her on the chessboard. Spotting Harry coming into the Common Room, she promptly gave the match up as a bad job and pushed the board away as Harry sat down.

From what Hermione and Ron told him, Headmaster Dumbledore had spoken to the school at lunchtime. He had merely requested that they leave Harry alone, that nobody ask him questions or badger him to tell the story of what had happened in the maze. Most people, he noticed, were skirting him in the corridors, avoiding his eyes. Some whispered behind their hands as he passed.

He guessed that many of them had believed Rita Skeeter's libelous articles in the Daily Prophet about how disturbed and possibly dangerous Harry was. Perhaps they were formulating their own theories about how Cedric had died. He found he didn't care very much.

He spent an enjoyable afternoon with Ron and Hermione, talking about other things, or letting him sit in silence while they played chess. He felt as though all three of them had reached an understanding they didn't need to put into words; that each was waiting for some sign, some word, of what was going on outside Hogwarts - and that it was useless to speculate about what might be coming until they knew anything for certain.

The only time they touched upon the subject was when Ron told Harry about a meeting Mrs. Weasley had had with Dumbledore just before he had left the Hospital Wing-probably at the same time as his argument with the Twins, Harry thought.

"She went to ask him if you could come straight to us this summer," he said. "But he said he's got other plans, and once those are settled, you'll still have to go back to the Dursleys, at least at first."

"Other plans? I would've figured the Dursleys were his other plans. Did she tell you why?"

"She just said Dumbledore's got his reasons," said Ron, shaking his head and shrugging. "She was looking a bit resigned, but she tried to hide it when she saw me."


The leaving feast was that night, though the grand banquet was somber this year. Every student and every table was draped in black in memory of their fallen peer, Cedric Diggory. The headmaster led the Hall in a toast, first to Cedric's memory, and then to Harry for returning his body. To Harry's surprise, Dumbledore made Harry's toast a public announcement that the dark wizard Lord Voldemort had returned, but on reflection, he had to agree. The students deserved to know the truth.

As dessert was served, Professor Dumbledore met Harry's eye. A moment later, a House Elf came bustling along the bench to hand Harry a tiny scroll, as well as one to Ron and Hermione on either side of him. Harry slit his open with a tap of his wand, and recognized Dumbledore's narrow, loopy handwriting:

Harry
Please meet me in my office after dinner, along with the youngest Mister Weasley and Miss Granger.

As soon as he'd finished reading it, the slip of parchment dissolved into nothing between his fingers.

Harry wondered vaguely what Dumbledore could want from the three of them. He had already picked over Harry's memories of the night Voldemort had returned, and had sent Sirius and Hagrid off on secret missions. Though, Sirius had promised to return soon, so perhaps that was what the meeting was about?

He shook his head. He would find out soon enough. He, Ron, and Hermione stood up from the table and left; the eyes of the entire Hall following Harry as he went. He breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind him. Even after enduring it for years, he still didn't much like being gawked at.

The three of them didn't speak as they climbed the marble staircase, and then more staircases-even some hidden behind sliding walls or tapestries-to reach the headmaster's office, and stopped at the end of a corridor on the seventh floor of the castle. The Headmaster's Tower was visible out of the window, and directly to their left was the stone gargoyle which concealed the hidden stairs to Dumbledore's office. They all stared at it.

They had left the Great Hall before Dumbledore had even gotten up from the table, and none of them knew the password. Harry groaned.

"Er, Professor Dumbledore did request us to come to his office," said Hermione uncertainly. "So it's probably-"

But she was interrupted by a low, gravelly voice which issued directly from the gargoyle's open mouth. "The headmaster will see you now." The stone gargoyle sprang to life, and slid aside as the wall split open behind it, revealing the revolving stone stairs leading up to Dumbledore's office. Harry had been here on a few occasions, so Ron and Hermione followed him up.

Harry had never figured out how revolving a spiral staircase could bring him to the top, since the stairs did not appear to be moving upward, but nevertheless they found themselves a moment later standing outside the door to the Headmaster's study.

Harry raised his hand to knock on the door, but before it landed, Dumbledore's voice called "Come in, Harry."

Harry glanced at Ron, who shrugged, and Hermione, who nodded encouragingly, then opened the door.

The headmaster's study was a beautiful, high-ceilinged, circular room lined with bookshelves and decorated with many noisy silver instruments. Harry didn't know what any of them were for, but they were puffing and humming and in one case emitting an odd hooting sound. On a golden perch beside the door stood Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's phoenix. He let out a bright, soft, musical note when he spotted Harry, and Harry smiled back at the bird.

Dumbledore was seated behind the headmaster's desk, with three empty chairs facing him. On the same side of the desk, in a grand chair off to the left, in front of the window, there sat another man who looked like he might be almost as old as Dumbledore. The stranger was a short man, with a short, pointy grey beard and a liver spot on his left cheek and smile lines etched deeply around his eyes. He was wearing a red robe, with an odd white sash wound around his shoulders and waist, and a wide hat that was both red and white. A symbol Harry didn't recognize adorned the front of it. It certainly didn't look like any of the ones that he had sometimes seen Hermione studying for her Ancient Runes class. Harry, Ron, and Hermione nodded politely to the stranger, who inclined his head in return.

"Thank you for arriving promptly," said Dumbledore. He was wearing red robes as well, a few shades brighter than the other man's, closer to the crimson of a phoenix's feathers, and patterned with shimmering golden flames around the wrists and hem. He smiled benignly at them all, but Harry thought he detected a certain sharpness in the corners of Dumbledore's eyes, a tautness through his cheeks, which had not been there before Voldemort's return.

"I asked you three here so that you could be introduced to the man who will be helping me to protect and educate you for the summer, at least." Dumbledore gestured at the short stranger, who smiled.

"Greetings," he said in a quiet, measured voice, faintly coloured by an accent that Harry couldn't place. "My name is Sarutobi Hiruzen. I am the Sandaime…no, what is the word in your language? Third. The Third Hokage."

Dumbledore continued, "As you may recall, if you have ever read the back of my chocolate frog card, I currently hold the position of Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. I do not expect to hold that position much longer, in light of Minister Fudge's and the rest of the Ministry's collective reaction to Voldemort's return. They are determined to shut their eyes and plug their ears, and I expect they will go to any lengths to silence not just myself, but Harry as well. There is therefore no time to lose if I wish to arrange this, and so I requested that the Hokage come here to meet you all.

"You see, I have a proposition for all of you, to provide you with an opportunity you will find both entertaining and instructive. In light of Lord Voldemort's return, the Wizarding World is unlikely to remain secure for very long. Indeed, the events of these past few years have demonstrated to us that even Hogwarts is not entirely secure…and usually, of course, you three found yourselves at the center of the problem."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all shifted uncomfortably, but Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling.

"Therefore," he said, "I have arranged alternate lodgings for the three of you over the summer, in the hope that it will keep the three of you safe and secure, and put you in an excellent position to be better able to defend yourselves in the event of any further…events."

"Where, Professor?" Harry asked.

"In the village of Konohagakure," said Dumbledore, "Which would translate into English as something like 'The Village Hidden Among the Leaves'. It is very far away, in a country locally known only as the land of Fire. I think it presents a very unique opportunity for the three of you. You see, the village is one not of wizards, but of shinobi."

"Shinobi?" asked Hermione, stumbling a little over the unfamiliar word.

The Hokage answered. "In your language, 'ninja'."

Hermione stared at the stranger, and Harry at Dumbledore, both their jaws hanging. Ron looked between the two of them, confused. Finally, Ron broke the silence.

"Er…what's a ninja?"

Harry opened his mouth, but couldn't think what to say. Professor Dumbledore forestalled him.

"Broadly speaking, 'Ninja' is the word used for someone who performs what we would call 'spells' through the use of hand signs, rather than with a magic wand. The actual process is a little more complicated, but I think that will do for now…at least until you are able to get some firsthand experience with the technique. These are not spells exactly; they are called jutsu, which I believe would translate more closely to 'technique'." He glanced at the Hokage, who nodded, before continuing. "At their basis, they work quite differently to the spells and charms with which you are familiar. More to the point, I believe that they are different enough that they will not register with the Trace as spells being cast."

"The Trace, sir?" asked Harry.

"The Trace is a charm placed upon all magical newborns, which detects nearby magical activity and alerts the Ministry of Magic. Because it is locational, it can of course be fooled," said Dumbledore. "For instance, recall the time that you, Harry, were accused of performing underage magic in your Aunt's and Uncle's house, when in actuality the spell was performed by another."

Harry nodded.

"House Elves' magic is different enough to be free of certain of the strictures that govern Wizards' magic," Dumbledore went on. "Witness their ability to apparate within the grounds of Hogwarts, which no wizard can do within our wards. However, it is also similar enough to trip the Trace. Ninjutsu, however, should not be, and I would like to test that before we go any further."

Dumbledore rose, and picked up one of the humming silver instruments. It looked a little like a gyroscope or sneakoscope, but folded somehow into a lemniscate shape, like a figure-eight. It didn't look as if it could possibly turn, the way it was designed. When Dumbledore's hand touched it, the instrument stopped humming and lay silent, glowing a faint blue colour. He handed it to Harry, who took it gingerly. When the instrument passed to Harry's hand, the glow changed to a soft green.

"That glow indicates that a Trace is placed upon the one holding it. It will react differently if the magic of the Trace is activated. Cast a spell, Harry."

Harry transferred the instrument to his left hand and pulled out his wand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the Hokage was watching him minutely.

Feeling a little self-conscious under the stranger's scrutiny, Harry said, "Wingardium Leviosa," waved his wand with a characteristic motion, and pointed it with a flourish at the quill on Professor Dumbledore's desk. The quill rose into the air as the Hover Charm took effect. At the same time, the silver instrument in his hand began to glow red and emit a whirring noise, as if it were spinning very fast indeed. He let the quill float back down to the desk, and the instrument lay quiescent and faintly green once more.

"Miss Granger, if you would kindly levitate the quill as well?" said Dumbledore. Harry looked intently at the instrument he still held as Hermione, too, cast a Hover charm. Again, the moment the spell took was completed, the instrument began to glow brightly red, and whirred with a noise like a contented cat, and again, it fell silent when the spell stopped.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. Now then, Master Hokage?"

The stranger stood up from his chair, smiling. All three of the children watched him intently. The old man's hands flashed together three times, in complicated-looking hand positions, and he said quietly, "Bunshin no Jutsu." There was a shimmer, and suddenly there was an identical copy of the old stranger standing right next to the first one. Another shimmer, and another copy appeared on his other side. All three of them smiled gently at the confused students.

"It is a simple splitting…no, the word would be 'clone', I think…a simple clone jutsu," said the Hokage in his soft voice. He raised a hand and passed it straight through the shoulder of the clone on his left. "They have no presence, it is merely an illusion."

"As you can see, the technique did not trigger a response from the Trace," said Dumbledore. "Can we be more certain, though, Hokage? Can you possibly use a technique requiring a large amount of power?"

The Hokage seemed to think it over for a moment, then nodded. His two clones faded from sight as he stepped forward and opened the window, drawing the curtains carefully back. His hands formed several more seals this time, before he said "Katon: Karyuu Endan no Jutsu". Then he raised his right hand to his mouth, puffed out his cheeks, and blew out of the window.

An enormous plume of fire erupted from his mouth, so hot that Harry, Ron, and Hermione all flinched back from the window, even though they were several feet away. After a moment, the stream of flames disappeared, and the Hokage carefully shut the window again.

The whole time, there had been no reaction from the silver instrument Harry was still holding. Dumbledore gestured for Harry to return it to its place on the small table as the Hokage sat back down.

"I am satisfied," said Dumbledore, "and I hope that you will be, too, that you will not be found by your Traces whilst you are in Konohagakure. At least, as long as you do not use your wands yourselves. I will not confiscate them, for safety's sake, but I implore each of you not to resort to your wand except in the last defense of your life. I think it would be…unwise…to draw the Ministry's attention to the Hidden Continent, particularly now-if Voldemort does not already have spies within the Ministry, he will very soon.

"Now, I have spoken with each of your parents," Dumbledore continued, looking from Ron to Hermione, his eyes twinkling, "and all of them have given their consent for you to accompany Harry on his…trip to study abroad. Sirius also gave his permission as your godfather, Harry, and as the Headmaster of Hogwarts I am considered your guardian for magical purposes, since Sirius' appointment was disregarded when he was arrested."

The twinkle in his eyes seemed to dim as he went on. "Your Aunt and Uncle also granted their permission when I asked them, Harry, though I don't believe I shall repeat their exact words. They did assent to you returning at least once before you come back to school, however. In fact, I must insist that you do," he added, correctly reading the look on Harry's face.

"There is only one issue which I foresee being a potential problem-the language barrier. There is no time for you all to learn a new language. Instead, you will have to make do with a charm." He pulled out his wand and waved it in an expansive gesture that took in all three of them, saying as he did so, "Interpretantus."

Harry felt as though cotton wool had been wrapped around his head, pressed against his open eyes, and rammed into his ears and throat, and then roughly pulled away again. He gasped, as did Ron and Hermione, and scrubbed at his face.

"It may be some time before the charm fully takes effect," said Dumbledore, "But you should be able to understand others when they speak, and they will understand you. Eventually, I believe, you will even be able to read in that language. In the meantime, however, the three of you will be leaving Hogwarts with the Hokage."

"When?" asked Harry.

"At once," Dumbledore replied. "Aside from your wands and Harry's glasses, you will not need any of your possessions or clothes from here. The Hokage and I have worked out the exchange rate from galleons to ryou, the local currency of the Hidden Continent, and we will provide you sufficient money to purchase new garb and supplies. I expect that, soon enough, you will have your own way to make some more money. Now, it is time to be off!"

"But how are we getting…wherever we're going?" Hermione stammered.

"The Hokage came to us by traditional methods, but it would be impossible to conceal you all on the way back. Instead, Fawkes will be taking you there." Dumbledore gestured, and the phoenix fluttered across the room toward them. At that exact moment, another of the silver instruments let out a low, sharp whistle. Harry couldn't see without turning around, but the sound seemed to originate from near the door.

"There is no time to lose!" Dumbledore cried. "Come!"

Fawkes was hovering in front of the three of them, waving his long golden tailfeathers in their faces. Just as they had done two years previously, when Fawkes had lifted them all out of the Chamber of Secrets deep beneath the school, the three of them grasped handfuls of his tailfeathers. At a gesture from Dumbledore, the Hokage did the same.

"Now, Master Hokage, concentrate hard upon your destination, and upon your wish for Fawkes to take you there," said Dumbledore. "And be gone!"

There was a flash of fire, and the four of them vanished together with Fawkes. When Professor McGonagall and a scowling Cornelius Fudge entered a moment later, they found the headmaster alone in his office.


A/N: Look, I'm going to be honest...I'm not taking this terribly seriously. I'm too old to be writing silly things like this very seriously. And that's okay. This is just for fun. Remember fun?

Anyway, this is a common enough crossover, and I've read a few different ones that were mostly pretty silly. This, too, is going to be pretty silly. I don't have a real end-goal in mind, it's just supposed to be a fun crossover, where I get to have fun seeing my favorite characters interact with each other.

I'm going to be handwaving things so hard you'll feel the breeze, so feel free to ask if you've got a question. Have no fear, there is no end to the reasons I can pull out of my...kamui.

Please point out inconsistencies, especially in how characters address each other.

All the Eastern characters should be written and should always address others with the family (or clan) name first: e.g. Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, Shiranui Genma, Potter Harry. The Western characters will "slip up" sometimes in their internal monologue, and that's okay. It's probably intentional, in cases like that, since they will still be thinking in English. If they're speaking among themselves, there's no reason for them to say things the Eastern way. If they're around Eastern characters though, the translation magic should kick in and their dialogue should follow the Eastern phrasing.

Brit-picking and Japan-picking are encouraged, if you're familiar enough to do so. For instance, another thing I'm bound to screw up is honorifics, so please point out any problems with those as well. I don't really expect any Latin-picking, but if you're fluent and you think I've screwed up, please tell me.

Thanks for joining me; hope you enjoy the ride.