Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or Harry Potter

Yet another story! Don't be mad because I haven't finished the other ones, I will most likely always have more than one WIP at once.

This story is a request by blackbloodbitch22, who has guessed 5 out of 10 possible people for my ANBU Magic challenge/contest/whatever it's called.

Almost five-year-old Harry Potter huffed as he was called out of his cupboard by Aunt Petunia.

"Freak! Go weed the back garden! Mr. and Mrs. Drudging are coming over for dinner tomorrow evening and we'll be dining on the back patio. Everything must be perfect, Mrs. Drudging simply cannot see weeds in my garden! Don't you dare dig up any of my flowers boy!"

The young brunette headed outside as directed to escape the shrill shrieking of his Aunt. He considered himself lucky that his uncle was working and Dudley was visiting a boy down the street, or there would be more smacks and kicks than verbal threats. Neither were particularly unusual. One might even say it was quite common.

The man that was crouched on the roof, hidden in the shadow behind the chimney frowned. That was no way to treat a child. Even he knew that.

Harry panted from the early summer's heat and from fatigue. He'd been out here almost all day. The weeding was almost done. He's been extra careful not to trample or dig up any flowers. Making a mistake like that meant he wouldn't get any bread or water today. His deprived stomach growled at the thought of going without food for another day.

The man watched as the boy weeded the garden and the woman carried the whale-like boy upstairs for bed. He estimated that it was roughly eight thirty. His target was sitting in the living room watching the telly with a glass of brandy on hand. All the residents of number 4 Privet Drive seemed to be extremely lazy. All except that little boy that apparently did all the cooking, laundry, gardening, and even some of the cleaning.

The woman reached the top of the stairs, out of sight of the living room. It was time.

In a display of agility unseen by the residents of Privet Drive, the man crept across the roof to the side of the house and dropped without a sound into the rose bushes. He took a quick breath to make sure his target was still ignorant of his presence. The woman had almost reached the first bedroom. He knew she'd be in there for twice the amount of time he needed trying to get her son to sleep. He darted in the open window.

The man didn't notice that he was no longer alone in the room until a knife was held to his neck. The glass was slowly removed from the shaking hand and placed safely on the table.

The grossly obese man was trembling. "W-Who let you in here? This is breaking a-and e-entering! I can... I can have you arrested!"

He couldn't help the dark chuckle that escaped him. Who would the man call? The police? He was the police! Well... sort of. "How I got in is not important. What is important is why I'm here. Do you know why I'm here Mr. Dursley? Shall I enlighten you?"

Vernon Dursley whimpered like a kicked dog.

The man pressed the knife harder to Vernon's throat. "It seems that you, Mr. Dursley, are in the black books of some very important owe a very large amount of money to a Mr... Hazard? Ah, I see you remember him. What about your affair with your boss' wife, Mrs. Grunnings? Do you remember her? It seems her husband found out. You've dug yourself into a hole Mr. Dursley and they hired me to bury you in it."

He pressed a gloved hand to the man's mouth and tugged the knife across his throat.

There was that job done. He'd already planted some fake documents and made some adjustments to make this look like a gang-related murder. Now there was just one thing left to do.

He'd finally finished weeding the garden! On the kitchen counter was a thin slice of dry bread and half a glass of warm water. He made a beeline for the food after making sure he wouldn't track dirt into the house. That would definitly cause Petunia to 'forget' to feed him.

Not even feeling close to full, he made his way to the cupboard under the stairs.

Something wasn't right. The telly was just a little bit louder than usual and he couldn't hear Uncle Vernon grumbling about work and the news. He hesitated. If something was wrong he should go see what it was but if Uncle Vernon was just quietly concentrating on something then he's be punished. He decided to take a quick look. After all, Uncle Vernon was never quiet.

He peeked his head around the door frame and promptly froze.

There was his uncle, unmoving, slumped in his favorite chair. That wasn't what made him freeze.

Beside his uncle was a tall man with spiky silver hair. He was dreesed in black clothes like the people on his Aunt's excercise videos but he was also wearing some kind of white clothing over it. On his face was an animal mask that looked sort of like a dog's face. Uncle Vernon would have called him a freak.

Harry stumbled back a step when the man started walking towards him. He was ready to run when the man stopped a few feet from him. He fell into a squat, placing all of his weight on the balls of his feet.

The man moved the animal mask to the side of his head revealing another mask that covered everything up to his eyes that looked almost like a turtleneck. One of his eyes had a scar through it.

There was silence for a moment. Harry gulped. "H-Hello, my name's Harry."

The silver-haired man blinked at him. "Hello Harry, my name is Kakashi Hatake. Can I ask you a question Harry?"

He nodded.

"Are you happy living here with your relatives?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer yes he was very happy but hesitated. Was he happy? "Mr. Ka... Ka... Mr. how do you know if you're happy?"

The man didn't look surprised at the question.

The mask moved when he sighed. "I see. This is no way for someone to live. Harry, how would you like to come live with me?"

Hope swelled in his small chest. "You meant it? I wouldn't have to come back?"

"Not if you don't want to." He held out a large, gloved hand.

Harry took it.

Petunia walked downstairs at almost ten o'clock. Strange, the cupboard door was left open and the boy wasn't in there. She went in the living room to see if Vernon had seen him.

She stopped when she saw the blood.

Her freak of a nephew was gone and her beloved husband was dead, shot in his chair. She reacted the was any useless, normal housewife that was completely dependand on her husband would. She fainted.

As always, tell me what you think, comments, tips, advice, etc.

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Ciao