A/N: Well, this story really needed a little bit of fluff.

The Colour Red

Part Four

Her name was Molly now, and she liked it. She knew who she was and what she was doing. She was eleven, a witch and a Hogwarts student. She was a Shinobi spy.

Of course, the Shinobi already knew about Wizards; how could they not? Shinobi from every village had been keeping an eye on every country outside of the elemental ones, and it's not like the Wizards were subtle when they walked through a non-magical area wearing clothes that belonged to either a different era or gender.

But Molly was a deep cover spy in Wizard territory, and as far as she knew she was the only one of those. The Japanese chakra coil system just wasn't made to access spiritual energy the same way as wizards; the Shinobi could infiltrate all they liked, but the most they could do was watch from afar lest they risk Shinobi being discovered by anyone outside of Asia.

Molly was special, though. She was a true redhead, and those were all descendants from the Suna daughter of the Sage of Six Paths. Molly had two younger cousins who were redheads; Sasori, a genius puppeteer; the other, slated to become the next Kazekage. Neither her nor Sasori liked him.

But Sasori, she'd always got on well with him. Even though she was all of nine years old, he still looked out for her and her for him, and he'd show her interesting things that could be done with chakra. Briefly, her eyes closed at the thought of him and the thought of home; she missed them both, even more so as she didn't fit in with this strange, foreign land that her ancestor had built.

Of course, her discomfort never showed; she always hid under a genjutsu anchored to her skin, with seals that made her into the real Molly that was two years older than her. Sometimes, she thought about running away – why couldn't some other redhead girl have inherited the capacity for 'magic'? – but then she'd remember the heat of Suna and the redness of the sands and the energy inside her would tingle with a warmth and she'd smile, because she'd always do anything for Suna and it would always be home, and she couldn't imagine ever truly belonging anywhere else.

She twirled her wand around her fingers as she stood in a stone hall of the castle, having stopped to admire the painting of a desert that had caused her contemplating in the first place. Just as she tucked her wand away into her pocket, a large heavy blur of robes hit her at full speed and she fell to the floor, with bright orange obscuring her vision.

"What – get off!" She heaved the stunned boy off of her as they both stood back up from their tangle of limbs. She looked at him, freckles disappearing into the bright blush that had grown from his ears and crept down to his neck.

"Oh, er, sorry! I, er, I wasn't looking where I was going – are you alright?" He spluttered nervously, and without her knowing it, her smile had grown at the sight of his flustered face.

"I'm fine," she grumbled, kneeling to help him pick up the books and quills and things that had spilled out of his bag and scattered on their impact.

Something hard beneath her fingers made her pause as she swept up a bunch of papers. Her hand grasped the object and pulled it out. She stared.

"What are you doing with this?" What was a wizard boy doing, carrying around muggle things?

She hadn't thought it possible, but somehow his blush deepened even more as he saw what she had found.

"Uh, yeah, it's uh – it's a muggle thing for eh – ekelticity –"

"Electricity," she corrected, and wondered why she was suddenly feeling a bit dazed when he grinned at her.

"Yeah. I'm Arthur," he said, holding out his hand.

"Molly," she replied, taking it with a small smile.

She got him a Japanese plug for Christmas.