Chapter 1:

Harry shivered from his hiding place while his fat lard of a cousin stomped away, furious at not being able to lay into his living punching bag. The 'Harry-Hunting' had been particularly bad lately and it was all the six year old could do to get away for a game or two. He knew he'd have to return to his chores soon enough, but couldn't resist taking a short time of rest for himself. Even if it consisted of ducking beneath the fence of house number seven of Privet Drive. So relieved at his escape, he neglected to hear the soft rustle of feet in the grass, at least until the owner of said feet spoke up.

"What are you doing here, xiaohai?" The small boy gasped and spun to face the speaker with wide green eyes. He had forgotten that number seven, which had stood empty for nearly a year, was now occupied by the newest resident of Privet Drive.

He was an older gentleman, small and bent and wrinkled. His black hair was shot through with silver and a pair of spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose. He had a soft smile that warmed his onyx colored eyes and deepened the lines on his face. Those jet colored eyes were sharp, not in the sense of being unkind but rather they gave the impression that nothing ever escaped their sight. They easily took in everything about the boy, from his oversized clothes and cracked glasses to the varied collection of cuts and scrapes found on his person. Inwardly he frowned, though his smile never wavered.

"Well, xiaohai?" He asked again.

Harry glanced down, "Nothing", he mumbled.

"Really?" the old man kneeled down to face him. "It is not every day that 'nothing' brings a young boy to hide himself away in my hydrangeas. What is your name, xiaohai?"

"Harry Potter," he said nervously meeting the old man's eyes.

"Hěn gāoxìng rènshì nǐ, Harry Potter. My name is Shirong Wu.

The eight year-olds face twisted in puzzlement, "H-han go sh-shin? What's that mean? And what did you call me earlier? S-shao something?"

The man- Mr. Wu, Harry's mind supplied- gave another little laugh. "Xiaohai, it means child. Hěn gāoxìng rènshì nǐ means that 'it is nice to meet you' in my native language."

"What's that?" Harry asked, his curiosity overcoming his nerves.

"Mandarin" at the bewildered look he received Mr. Wu elaborated, "Chinese."

"You're from China?" Harry asked excitedly.

"Yes," the gentleman replied. "I lived there for most of my life. In fact, until I came here I had never been anywhere else."

Harry looked at him wide-eyed, "I've never met anyone that wasn't from England before," he confided. Hesitantly he asked, "What was it like?"

"Well," Mr. Wu said. "It was quite different from England" He paused, finally becoming aware that the grass they were kneeling on was still damp from the rain the night before and said dampness was beginning to spread to their trousers. "Why don't we move up to the porch bench?" he suggested. "It's far more comfortable than the wet grass. And if you'll allow me, I have a few things that can take care of those scrapes for you."

At the first part of the question Harry glanced down in confusion that soon faded as he saw the damp circles forming on the knees of his whale-sized clothes. Before the second comment had registered in his brain he had already nodded in quick agreement. Not giving the boy a chance to change his mind, Mr. Wu quickly got him situated on the porch bench and fetched his first-aid kit. Once they were both comfortably seated Mr. Wu began to speak.

"Sixty-two years ago I was born in a small village in China, away from the hustle and bustle of cities. We used to say that it was a secret village, hidden away from the rest of the world. Everyone did their part to help; whether it was working together, feeding together, and bartering for whatever skills were needed. Outside the town was a path leading up to a temple. All the children would have lessons there. The monks were very kind, they taught us how to read and write and figure. Once we were old enough, we would walk to the neighboring town to begin at 'real' school. Some of us went onto college, leaving to the big cities. Many only stayed long enough to learn skills to bring back to our home. A few found lives there, but would always return for a visit during village wide celebrations." Mr. smiled in remembrance.

"Did you leave for the city too, sir?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I became a teacher," he answered, starting to clean a small cut on the boy's arm. "As soon as I graduated I returned to the monks to ask for a place as a teacher among them. I remained there for over thirty years before I moved here."

Harry frowned in puzzlement, "But if you liked it so much, sir, why did you leave?" he questioned as that hurt was finished and the old man moved onto the next one.

Mr. Wu gave him another small smile, "Because," he said, "I felt that there was something or someone that would need me more than the temple did. There were many monks to fill my duties and we have temple placed around the globe, but there is only one Shirong Wu. I felt that there was something that needed just me, and so I came." He frowned as he looked over the newest bruise he was tending. It was a large, hand-shaped mark curling around the child's upper arm.

"Did you find out what it was?" the child asked in an excited whisper, not noticing the frown.

Mr. Wu let go a smile that deepened all the wrinkles around his black eyes. "I might have," he whispered back.

Harry was about to ask what it was when a shrill shriek tore across the friendly atmosphere.

"Boy!" his aunt's voice echoed across the street. "Get back here and finish your chores! The yard is a mess!"

Shirong watched as the child cringed and forced out a "Coming Aunt Petunia" before lifting himself to his feet.

"Xiaohai," ha called out. When the boy turned toward him he continued, "I did enjoy speaking of my home. If you ever feel the need, my door is always open to those who wish to hear an old man's rambling."

Harry grinned and waved to his neighbor before turning to disappear into the backyard of number four Privet Drive.

Shirong let his smile fall. He had indeed found the place he was most needed.

Author notes:

Xiaohai- child

Hĕn gāoxìng rènshí nĭ- it is nice to meet you

Shirong- scholarly honor

Wu- shaman

I do not speak Mandarin so if anyone knows how please tell me. I'd like to be sure what I think I'm writing is really correct, so PLEASE tell me if it's not!

This is eventually going to be a Harry Potter/Naruto crossover with the Avatar bending concept mixed in. Constructive reviews and criticisms would be appreciated.

Thank You!