Hi everybody! It's been... um. A while, shall we say?

Honestly I can give all kinds of excuses- four surgeries in the family within six months, a death, an arrest, and a major car accident that made six news stations ( and yes, ALL of that is true; just ask Kessapearl)- but the long and short of it is that I was frustrated by my grinding into the ground with Tournament of the Treaty and didn't want to risk puttting anything else up.

Well, now Kessapearl is threatening to post all my stories herself, so I guess I'm stuck with this.

Anyway, here's a new, totally unbeta'ed (except by Kessapearl, but she doesn't edit at all, and therefore doesn't count) and kind of weird but hopefully good story. A lot of it has been typed up on my phone, so please alert me to any autocorrect flubs I haven't caught. And so, without further ado... voila.

Disclaimer: If I owned either of these, the backstories would be so much more painful.

Just sayin'.

It was official: Sarutobi had finally cracked.

It was bad enough that he'd been asked to raise Sensei's son on his own. Because really, it made perfect sense to ask a thirteen-year-old to raise a newborn, right? (Although he had to admit that he'd been a rather uniquely qualified thirteen-year-old, having cared for his father in similar, if somewhat less dignified ways, from the time he was five until the older man's death. But that was beside the point.) Now he was supposed to go on a year-long mission to the Outer Continents... with Naruto?

Brilliant job, Sandaime-sama. Really.

Unfortunately, there was no arguing with the Hokage.

Which was why, at this moment, one Hatake Kakashi was standing in a fireplace, carrying a duffel bag stuffed with sealing scrolls filled with baby stuffs and a nine-month-old strapped over his full armor in a wraparound sling, holding a handful of magic ash.

"Hokage-sama, are you really sure about this?" Kakashi asked on last time, just to be certain. It couldn't hurt, after all.

"Yes, Kakashi-san, they asked for the best." Nice try, Hiruzen. Flattery won't get you anywhere, Kakashi thought. "Besides, I think they will find you... uniquely qualified for this mission." And just what is that supposed to mean?

Sarutobi smiled innocently— just to annoy him, Kakashi was sure.

"Now, good luck; I expect reports as regularly as you deem necessary."

Kakashi nodded formally and gave his magic ash one last dubious look before dropping it and saying clearly in his newly acquired language (learned from the books the Sandaime had given him the week before last), "The Burrow."

Everything dissolved into green.

Albus Dumbledore's expression shifted ever so slightly from one of expectancy to one of mild bemusement as the hired help emerged from the Floo into the otherwise empty household of Arthur and Molly Weasley. For some reason, he had expected Hiruzen to send him someone less... unusual.

"You are the client?" The mercenary brought Dumbledore's attention away from the gravity-defying hair.

"Yes," the headmaster picked up without dropping a beat, trying to focus on the one visible eye instead of the rest of the odd outfit. "I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. I believe the code phrase that was agreed upon was Phoenix Food, unless I am much mistaken?"

The ninja nodded, acknowledging the code that officially began the mission. He introduced himself. "Special Jounin Kakashi Hatake, reporting for service to comply with request 'Self-Defense Teacher,' mission parameters including degrees of bodyguard, espionage, and infiltration of allied forces, other parameters to be added as needed. What are my first orders?"

Dumbledore half-nodded to himself, reassured at the man's professionalism. At least that was to be expected, even if nothing else about him— was that a baby strapped to his chest?! Why hadn't he noticed that first?!

Realising the ninja was waiting for a reply, Dumbledore shook himself from his stupefied distraction to issue instructions. "We will proceed to the current safe house of our organization, as this one is not presently in use. There I will introduce you to the Order of the Phoenix, and in about a week's time you will meet the primary target as well as several of the secondary targets. You will be introduced to them as 'Professor Hatake,' instructor for our new class at Hogwarts, 'Wandless self-defense.' Your role may be explained to them at a later time if necessary, but until it is deemed so, you will remain only the new professor to them."

Hatake nodded in acknowledgement of the instructions. Dumbledore held out his arm. "Now, if you will take my arm, I will transport us to the safe house."

Without question, the ninja nodded and placed his hand on Dumbledore's forearm. That was what he loved about ninja: their professionalism. Then he twisted around and they were gone.

The Order of the Phoenix waited with bated breath in the dining room of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore was supposed to be arriving with "A professional of his trade" who he'd gotten through some old acquaintance or other to come an help them. Only Moody seemed to know what he was talking about, and he grumbled incessantly.

Finally, they heard the front door open and close, but only one set of footsteps entered. Uncertain glances were shared, followed by a collective blink as Dumbledore walked in with perhaps the oddest person any of them had ever seen— and that said something, considering who was present.

"This is Kakashi Hatake, the operative my friend Sarutobi has sent to aid us this year. He will be the teacher of the new Self-Defense class. He has also been tasked with guarding Harry and the rest of the school for the duration of this year. Are there any questions?"

Silence reigned for several moments as everyone took in the appearance of the stranger. He was extraordinarily short, for a wizard— only about 150 cm, although the silver-gray hair appeared to add another seven at least. He wore an odd arrangement of sleeveless black under even more sleeveless white, with what appeared to be arm guards that reached almost to his shoulders and covered his hands like fingerless gloves. His loose cargos were wrapped in bandages halfway up the calf with black bandages, and a white bandage wound around one thigh, holding a pouch in place for ease of access. His sandals seemed odd in the dreary english weather they all knew lurked outside, but even more oddly, the black undershirt's neck reached all the way up and over his nose, concealing the bottom half of his face completely except for the shape of his jaw. A headband wrapped around his forehead concealed another quarter of his face, leaving only one unwrinkled eye visible.

And then, of course, there was—

"He yours?"

Much of the room blinked at Tonks' forwardness in referring to the fuzzy head poking out from the wraparound sling on the new 'teacher's chest.

"No."

Silence returned in all its awkward glory, until Arthur decided they obviously weren't going to hear any more on the subject and moved on.

"What are your teaching qualifications?"

Hatake looked at Dumbledore as if waiting for permission. At the headmaster's nod, he replied, "I have been trained in physical combat and self-defense since birth. In my organization's ranking, I am one of the highest level operatives."

The room blinked again; they had expected an older voice to be paired with the well-matured hair.

Snape looked skeptical. "And just what organization might that be?" he sneered. If he was trying for a reaction, none was forthcoming. Moody answered for Hatake.

"That'd be the Hidden Villages, wouldn't it?" the aged auror glowered, brow low as he stared the hired help down. "Of the Elemental Nations. Leaf, based on the headband," he sniffed, then gave an expression that could only be described as a leer. Tonks gave him a concerned look and leaned away. "Or am I wrong, Ninja?"

Again, Hatake made no reaction, allowing someone else to answer for him; Dumbledore, this time, nodding his silver head in acknowledgement. "He is indeed a shinobi, as they call themselves. I take it you have dealt with some of his associates in the past, Alastor?"

Moody grunted. "A couple o' times, yeah."

Dumbledore nodded again. "I am sure we are all very curious. It sounds like an excellent tale to regale us all with later. For now, however, are there any other questions?"

Again being the forward person she was, Tonks asked, "How old are you?"

At last, Hatake himself replied, "I have been an adult for most of my life."

Impressively ambiguous. The mystery of the conflicting voice and hair would have to remain unsolved for now.

After another long, uncomfortable silence, Dumbledore finally determined that enough questioning had taken place and asked Molly to escort their new temporary member to his room. Even after the pair of them left the room, the silence stretched onward in their wake.

So. There's that. Updates will come as I finish typing up from my well-loved (read: battered) notebook.

Oh, a quick note about my name change:

I used to be called Krillo the singing Mushroom on this site.

That was one of my characters' names.

He had issue with it.

Never; I repeat, NEVER steal names from mushrooms who can only say the word "Lah!"

They will destroy you.

That's all.

Until next time, au revoir!