Chapter 1

Harry is five when the Dursleys win a trip to Japan.

The news came yesterday, and Uncle Vernon still oscillates between puffing up with pride- "Good luck is a sign of a good man, Dudley," and disgust at the thought of visiting a country full of "backwards, barbaric heathens with their crazy oriental language".

Dudley, despite having been the one to win the trip, is unaffected by his father's blustering and the thought of a holiday, beyond expressing a desire to "eat all the candy, mum, and buy all the toys."

Harry isn't surprised, because her cousin still can't even spell his name properly and has all the intelligence of a dead slug.

It is Aunt Petunia's reaction that interests her most, however, as she collapses into her seat at the kitchen table and stabs the scrambled eggs on her plate with a fork after getting off the phone.

"Bad news, Vernon," she sighs, shooting Harry a venomous glare. "Mrs Figg can't take her, she's going to visit her nephew in Scotland. She'll be gone for months!" Her voice rises into the range of hysteria at the last word, and Uncle Vernon even stops shoveling bacon into his mouth to pay attention.

"Marge could do it," he harrumphs after a few moments of consideration, clearly pleased at being able to keep the peace in his household from the smug smile he tries to hide behind his coffee cup.

His attempt fails miserably, and Harry nearly chokes on her dry toast from where she is half hidden behind the counter when her Aunt practically wails that Marge is going to Sheffield for a dog show, and that the Polkiss family is going to Hawaii, Vernon, instead of a country full of squinty-eyed Chinese people!

It seems like Dudley inherited his brain from his mother.

-x- -x- -x-

In the end, there is no one to take Harry in, and the Dursleys refuse to leave her free reign in the house. It is just as well that the trip is for four, or they might have changed their minds and locked her in the basement if they had had to pay for her as well.

As it stands, Harry finds herself on her first ever plane ride. Sure, she's across the aisle from everyone else, since they don't want to be contaminated by her "freak", Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon won't stop glaring and Dudley is being a spoilt brat as usual, but it isn't all bad. She gets fed, and doesn't have to work or be screamed at- even the Dursleys aren't that attention-seeking!- and there's a movie playing, so she counts this as a win.

It's over all too soon, and Harry is left scrambling for her ratty backpack and Dudley's suitcase as her relatives- never family, she knows better than that- sweep off towards the taxi. She hitches the worn brown strap higher on her shoulder as she sets off at a run.

She knows that the only thing keeping them from leaving her behind is the fact that she has Dudley's suitcase, and tries not to let this knowledge hurt too much.

-x- -x- -x-

Tokyo is beautiful, all shiny steel and courtesy, like a steel sword wrapped in silk. Harry wonders, as she eyes the politely bowing hotel receptionist, if the people are like that as well, and decides that she will like Japan very much.

The four of them are to share two adjoining rooms, and it is soon decided that the adults will take one and the children are to share another, though the word "share" is used loosely. The two beds are pushed together for Dudley, and although Harry has to sleep on the sofa, it is still a step up from her cupboard and protesting will get her nothing but a slap and insults, so she keeps her mouth shut and begins unpacking her cousin's suitcase.

The Dursleys don't want to leave her alone in the room, so she gets to tag along and has the honor of carrying all their shopping. Harry counts herself lucky that they finally take a break to watch the movie Dudley wants to see – all about giant robots and fighting, something that Harry herself would love to see- although she's left outside the cinema to wait for them and look after the many bags.

Even though Harry loathes the Dursleys with a passion surpassing the sun, she is careful not to wander off, and stays on a bench that has a clear view of the door the Dursleys will be exiting from, since she knows that she'd be left behind in a heartbeat.

While back in Surrey she has to do all the chores and fail at her homework, she doesn't know what would happen to her if she is left to wander this unfamiliar country alone, and, well, better the devil you know than the devil you don't.

-x- -x- -x-

Two weeks pass in a flash. Harry still isn't sure about all the raw fish, but she will miss everything else about Japan.

Once all the bags have been packed and loaded into the taxi, Harry is shoved into the backseat after Dudley has been carefully strapped in. Despite the taxi driver's disapproving glare, Harry is just glad she hasn't been left behind.

The scenery passes by in a blur, a watercolor gradient of greens, blues and greys. Dudley is screaming again, and Aunt Petunia coos and hands him a bottle of chocolate milk with the cap already twisted off.

Harry thinks that Uncle Vernon must have seen something in her eyes, a hint of that jealous monster rearing in her chest, because he sneers and tosses her a bottle of strawberry milk. It hits her in the head, sending a sharp shock through her skull, but Harry cradles the bottle carefully like it's the most priceless thing she's ever received.

She sips from it slowly, trying to savor every mouthful. It's sweet, far sweeter than anything she's ever drunk, and Harry wonders if it's a sign of what is to come.

It's her last coherent thought before everything fades into blackness.

-x- -x- -x-

Harry returns to consciousness like leaves drifting to the ground. Her eyelids are too heavy and it is so, so dark, but she can hear murmuring and the clanking of metal. She feels so comfortable, like she is drowning in feathers, but something inside her is telling her to wake up, now, as insistently as the dull ache in her head.

Every movement feels like she is wading through quicksand.

Mobility returns slowly but surely, and Harry eventually finds the strength to open her eyes and pull herself up.

This- What is this?

She's on a train, and the Dursleys are nowhere in sight. The surrounding seats are filled with strangers, and everything is in Japanese. Terror grips her heart, crushing in its weight, and suddenly she can't breathe, she can't-

Harry isn't a stranger to fear, but the terror she feels now is all-consuming, draining everything until she can't think or feel and she is so, so cold…

She doesn't know how long it's been, but the sun sets before the train slows to a stop. She clutches her bag tightly to her chest, the only familiar thing and remnant of her past life- for how can she find her way back? And what would the Dursleys do to her if she does?

Harry follows everyone off the train and wonders if she even wants to go back. Surely- surely she could make a new life in Japan! She's all alone too, and an orphanage can't be much worse than Privet Drive, where she's underfed, overworked and housed in a cupboard, can it?

For the first time since waking up, hope flutters to life in her chest.

-x- -x- -x-

Hours later, Harry feels like smacking herself. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid!' She curses, as she shuffles down yet another sidewalk.

She's a five-year-old girl stranded alone in a country that speaks a different language, with no plan or resources to draw on. She doesn't really want to go to an orphanage; not after all the stories the Dursleys have told her, but it seems like that may be her only option now.

But now Harry is lost, and it's already dark. The number of people on the streets has lessened, and many of those still out look scary- too scary for her to go up and ask for directions to a police station.

Harry's still young and doesn't know what she wants to do with her life, but she knows she doesn't want to be killed or kidnapped and sold into slavery.

But first, she'll have to figure out what to do- maybe she could hide somewhere and sleep until morning?

But…where?

A sudden gust of wind sends her hair flying into her face and the leaves rustling. 'Wait a minute… leaves? Trees!' Harry's head shoots up, and she gasps at the sight of the trees. Tall sturdy, with branches spread out low enough for her to begin climbing, but with branches high enough to keep her from being seen.

Well, this won't be her first time sleeping in a tree. Harry reaches up, heaves herself onto the lowest branch, and begins climbing.

-x- -x- -x-

Dawn finally arrives after a fitful night of sleep, but it is still too early, so Harry stays up in her hiding place, concealed by foliage. The tree isn't tall enough for her to see the surrounding streets, but it's high enough for her to check out the immediate area. Her tree is by a patch of grass near a playground; further down towards the left, the street is lined with shophouses while the right side has pretty, well-kept houses.

When the streets become busier and even the playground begins to fill with children, Harry begins descending the tree. She's just about to hop off the lowest branch, when she realizes that there's a commotion on the other side of the tree, and three larger boys are ganging up on another kid her age.

There's a lot of yelling, she notes, but only on the part of the three attackers, and one even picks up a stick before dropping into a ready stance. The last kid is, in comparison, calm despite the clear annoyance on his face.

When the three charge forward, it's Harry Hunting all over again, except the target isn't Harry this time, but an equally young boy who-

Seems to be taking the bullies down?

Harry watches in amazement as the boy ducks a punch before launching a spin kick into the blond's face, knocking him onto his back. The boy doesn't spare him a second glance, turning instead to face the solidly built brunet charging at him with a branch. He doesn't seem to notice the last attacker sneaking up from behind, and Harry's eyes widen in horror as the scrawny redhead pulls out a pocketknife and flicks the blade open.

Harry might be many things- young and calculating and so very afraid, but she isn't someone who can just stand aside as someone is killed before her eyes. As the redhead begins charging towards the boy, Harry takes a deep breath and leaps off the tree, her knee connecting solidly with the attacker's head and making him collapse like a puppet with its strings cut.

The other kid dispatches his opponent with brutal efficiency, whipping out a pair of metal sticks and slamming them into his attacker's stomach before turning to face Harry as the brunet crumples to the ground.

He has black hair and steel grey eyes, and looks to be Harry's age, although Harry herself looks younger than she actually is. She backs away as he advances towards her, speaking rapidly in Japanese, and clutches her bag to her chest as a form of protection in case he decides to attack.

If this is the thanks I get, Harry thinks, I'm never helping anyone again! She prepares to throw her bag into his face and sacrifice it to save herself, when a shout stops the boy in his tracks. Harry grabs the opportunity and starts running.

It is a good idea, until she trips over a tree root and lands flat on her face.

Even as Harry pushes herself up onto her knees and prepares to run again, a slender hand picks her up easily and sets her back on her feet, and a feminine voice begins speaking to her.

"I don't understand Japanese," Harry states frankly, frustrated but with little hope. Laughter like wind chimes makes her look up from her battered sneakers as a pale hand smooths her unruly black hair and tucks a stray lock behind her ear.

Harry is stunned; in all her memory, no one has ever touched her so gently before. She tries to blink back tears, but what happens next is so shocking that she can't hold them back anymore, and they slide down her face.

"My name is Lei Hibari," the voice says, "and this is my son Kyoya. What is your name, child?"

The voice is delicate, with faint traces of an accent, and Harry can't help but wonder what this woman, who touched her so gently, looks like. She looks up, and can't keep her eyes from widening.

The lady is tall and slender, with dark hair and striking oriental features, and Harry thinks that she must be the most beautiful lady in the world. Her son- Koya? - must have gotten his good looks from his mother, though his eyes are grey to her black and he has a scowl instead of a frown.

"I'm Harry. Nice to meet you, Mrs Hibari, Koya," she manages to muster, shifting awkwardly.

"It's Kyoya, dear. You have an interesting name. Is it short for anything?" Mrs Hibari asks, lips curved into a smile. Beside her, Kyoya huffs and looks away, clearly displeased by the mangling of his name.

Harry flushes in embarrassment. "Heather Riona Potter," she says, "but most people call me Harry." Her eyes dart to the side, and Harry wonders if she will be able to escape any time soon.

Mrs Hibari laughs and nods. "It's a lovely name, Harry. Thank you for helping my son." She nudges Kyoya, who mumbles something reluctantly, before combing his hair with her fingers. "Kyoya says thank you as well."

"It was no problem, Mrs Hibari. I really need to-" Harry's reply is cut off by the growling of her stomach, and she freezes in horror.

Mrs Hibari raises her eyebrows, and even Kyoya turns and smirks at her. "Have you had breakfast, Harry? Why don't you join us? Please, I insist."

Harry doesn't know why, but she feels an impending sense of doom.

-x- -x- -x-

Before she knows what's happening, Harry finds herself seated at a table with Mrs Hibari and Kyoya in their house-which-is-actually-a-mansion, looking down at a tray filled with Japanese dishes. Her stomach rumbles again, and she ducks her head, glancing up.

Mrs Hibari is sitting opposite her, alternating between sips of tea and ladylike mouthfuls of rice. Beside her, Kyoya is demolishing his breakfast with a single-minded intensity that Harry is beginning to realise is part of his personality. Harry fumbles with her chopsticks and tries not to make a mess.

The food is excellent, but there is far too much for Harry to finish. She eyes her half-eaten fish and tofu regretfully, but straightens in her seat when she realizes that the others have already finished eating and are gazing at her in contemplation.

"Thank you for the food." Harry bows awkwardly, unsure of the proper etiquette, but Mrs Hibari waves it off.

"Do tell me more about yourself, Harry." It is said kindly, but seems so much like a demand that Harry doesn't dare to not answer.

"I'm from Little Whinging, Surrey," Harry begins slowly, uncertainly. "My parents died in a car crash when I was one so I've been living with my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin. They brought me along when they won a trip to Japan, drugged me in the car and I woke up on a train. I got off when it stopped and am looking for an orphanage- do you know where I can find one?"

Well, Hibari Lei isn't quite sure what to say to that. For the first time since Kyoya was born, she finds herself quite speechless.

Author's note:

Should Horcruxes exist? Should Harry go to Hogwarts or a magic school in Japan? What flame should she have? Should she even have flames?

Somebody saveee meeee. I have no idea what to write next.