Matou Shinji and the Philosopher's Stone

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: Ladies of Eternity, magi of the past hiding in the present, with ancient, nigh impossible crafts at their command. That is the destiny of a Witch in the Moonlit world, with the female child of a witch bearing the destiny of inheriting the blood and history of their line without any exceptions, upon which the mother will expire, her task done. But this is a story of a Witch's son – a boy tossed aside by destiny – a boy determined to become someone special, with blood, sweat, and wand. This is the story of Shinji Matou, and his newfound path in the Wizarding World.

Chapter 1. Y'er a Wizard, Shinji!

A young Matou Shinji stared down at the missive in his hands clutched in his hands, his mind barely able to comprehend the letter that had somehow been addressed to him from someone at a Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A letter delivered by owl - obviously some kind of familiar - from what he only assumed was either in the United States or the United Kingdom, given the language of the letter.

But the fact that it was written in English wasn't the most troubling thing about it.

He'd learned that language some time ago - at least the written form, with all the books he'd ended up reading. Unfortunately, his spoken was out of practice, as he hadn't exactly had much of an opportunity to speak it after the last time he'd studied abroad. It wasn't the fact that somehow, the familiar that had delivered it had traveled so far, or had known exactly where he was (a disconcerting thought, as it meant it was somehow keyed to him, as if he had a spell put on him from his youth and had been unaware of it - a truly dangerous notion).

It was the fact that this letter purported to offer him acceptance from a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Witchcraft he understood well enough, given that it usually involved the curses and shamanistic techniques - potions, medicines, spirit exorcism and curses that uses a material medium - certain practitioners were known to use. He'd heard it was popular in the East, though all he really knew about it were that it had been named after its primary Western practitioners - Witches: ladies of eternity bound to destiny before they were born, destined to become perfected magi like those spellcasters of fantasy - beings that would slowly disappear as the world modernized.

Such techniques weren't taught by the Association, as they saw this craft as the province of either Witches or barbarians - neither of which they could really learn from - or had any interest in the Origin, but it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that an institution might exist to teach what he knew was called Black Magic.

But it was the word Wizardry that was what stopped him cold.

'A school for Wizardry? Impossible.'

As anyone who was at all involved with the world of magecraft, the only ones styled wizard in the moonlit world were those who had attained a true magic, like Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, or those, who through sheer power and competence, had strength bordering on magic, like Barthomeloi Lorelei, who was one of only two Wizard Marshals the Association recognized. The sheer presumptuousness of calling something a School for Wizardry...

...well, it is said that none are so indignant or defensive of their position as one who has next to nothing.

And Matou Shinji was exactly that - someone who had assumed that he would become their heir of the Matou family, that he was special - despite knowing he had no power at all. Someone who clutched at straws for anything that would make him special.

Something like what he held in his hand now.

He swallowed, imagining what it might feel like to be called a Wizard.

Wizardry.

Wizard Marshal Matou Shinji.

...he had to admit that had a pleasant ring to it, even as impossible as he knew it to be. He had seen the room where his adopted sister Sakura had been infested by worms, after all, after which his Father turned away from him, admitting he was a replacement. That his mother, useless woman that she was, had been killed because of him, whatever remained of her laying at the bottom of the worm pit. She died because he been useless, even though her sorcery trait should have guaranteed inheritance.

Useless. Useless. Useless.

He rejected it. His mind rejected it. His existence rejected it, and so he had grown cold, thinking of his replacement as useless, as responsible for all the suffering in his life, thinking of how he could hurt her. Not that he had the chance, not with Grandfather always training her, always spending time with
her, giving her the position that had been all he wanted.

If he didn't reject it, he would break. Matou Shinji would break. Matou Shinji would shatter to pieces.

His one chance at salvation was held in his hands now. This School for Witchcraft (he steadfastly decided to ignore the rest of it) had accepted him, told him he was special, when he knew that all others considered him a failure.

...what choice did he have but to take it? Even Witchcraft was something, after all.

As he read it, he saw there were two sheets of paper behind the original letter - one with a list of required supplies and equipment, with the other being a note with additional instructions for international students.

The equipment was straightforward enough, as much of it seemed like ingredients for potions. He smiled at the mention of a Wand being required though - an amplification type mystic code was commonly given as a coming of age present among magi, but somehow he didn't think Grandfather would let him have one. It would be something he'd have to purchase then. For a moment, he wondered why it wasn't an Azoth Sword (the most common amplification-type Mystic Code), but then he remembered that this was a school of Witchcraft - wands and staves were more likely to be accepted. Plus giving teenagers knives might be dangerous, he supposed.

A wand...

He could see how some might see it as a proof of having magic. After all, who else would have a use for one?

The clothing was more problematic, but he supposed that magi in general were sticklers for tradition, and presumably witches all the more so. Tradition in many cases was all that mattered, as he had learned all too well, more than blood, more than…well, anything.

As for the instructions, they were simple enough:

Mr. Matou,

As you are an international student whose known magical relatives are deceased, a Portkey will be provided for you at the end of summer for you to come to Britain and acquire your school supplies, should you decide to accept a position at Hogwarts. Should you have no one willing or able to accompany you, or should you require orientation to Magical Britain, please do not hesitate to request a chaperone from our teaching staff when you send your owl.

Sincerely,

Professor Filius Flitwick
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

He frowned as a line caught his eye…

...when you send your owl...

…a line echoed in the original letter.

He was expected to send a reply by owl…but he didn't have an owl. Or any familiar capable of making a long distance trip. Or a familiar at all, for that matter. And somehow, he didn't think he could just send a reply through the post.

This meant he had to ask someone about sending a message to wherever this Hogwarts was. But who? His father, last proper Matou with any ounce of magical ability, who was a drunkard these days? Who treated him as nothing more than a nuisance after learning about Sakura's role as the adopted heiress?

His grandfather, the man who had always been distant to him, and who he knew little about? He didn't even know if his grandfather knew about magecraft, or how much of his faculties the old man retained.

Or would he have to swallow his pride and ask the Second Owner of the land for a favor? He didn't want to ask the replacement's sister for anything, as it would tantamount to admitting he was weak, that not only was he a failure as a magus, but his family could offer no aid – that the Tohsaka might as well come in and take over.

Then again…what did he care? Besides, it was true enough – the Matou heiress was a Tohsaka, because the Matou family had done the Tohsaka a favor by adopting her. Looked at it that way, the Tohsaka owed the Matou a favor.

He didn't quite know what to do, what to choose, as he stared down at the parchments.

He'd sleep on it - perhaps he'd have figured something out by morning.

A/N: Welcome to Matou Shinji and the Philosopher's Stone, an AU fusion blending the Nasuverse with Harry Potter. Yes, Harry Potter exists in this world, as does the Potterverse style of witchcraft – it is a little known a derivative of Nasuverse style Witchcraft (and part of what is referred to in the Nasuverse as "Black Magic"). Of course, since these practitioners and practices are limited by nature and can never reach the Root, no matter how powerful they are in their limited scope, the Association doesn't care much for them, nor do most of them even know of the Association, as these practitioners are mostly inward facing, becoming more and more secluded. In essence, the Wizarding World is a society that embodies as a whole what the Ladies of Eternity once did – the past hiding in the present unchanging.