Hari was still snickering as he prepared to leave his temporary hosts. They had been mostly quiet, not wanting to know why the weird white-boy who acted like a normal person who couldn't speak Japanese (well, not properly, anyway) was suddenly giggling all the time. What time they had spent with him had given the impression that he had a very physical sense of humor and it would be best not to ask, in case anyone questioned them; his gales of laughter at the headline of the newspaper had been worrying.
It was on the lips of many people, even here in an area normally somewhat withdrawn from London politics. The Minister for Foreign Trade had been seen driving around with a pig in the back seat of his car. There were a few problems. The obvious one was that as an important minister, someone drove him and so he had been sitting in that back seat. Then there was the slightly troubling fact that his mistress had been with him in said seat. The somewhat more scandalous aspect had been that he and his mistress had been in a state of . . . dishabille when they had arrived at their destination and someone had opened the door. There had been the Minister and a woman who was not his wife . . . and a pig (in a wig) who was also not his wife. And someone had managed to get a picture.
Hari didn't understand sex in reference to himself as a participant, but he'd been a ninja for his whole life; he'd seen plenty of couples (and moreples) with his Byakugan and helped Uncle Sasori blackmail people. But most of his enjoyment came from his training with a different uncle: Uncle Tobi had taught him how to grab people who'd passed out in a brothel and how to pair them off in ways that would lead to maximum screaming. Especially politicians.
He hadn't planned this one, he'd just gotten lucky when he picked the first car to come by once he managed to get the sticking charm settled properly on the pig's head. He'd seen what was going on, but hadn't really thought about it beyond a small snicker at thinking about the woman's face when she realized what she was lying on while kissing the man. This had been luck on his part.
Hari had missed this. Even Hogwarts didn't have such wonderfully unbridled chaos. He would have to do something about that. Maybe. He had a busy year ahead of him teaching two pupils at once. Still, time needed to be made to make things a bit more interesting for everyone. Perhaps something involving a Prefect?
X
X
The walk to King's Cross was uneventful. Hari casually sidestepped the car that jumped the curb and slammed into a crowd of pedestrians. It was odd, the flash of magic at the steering column. And there appeared to be a House Elf following him. The things that happened in his life . . . Actually, what was odd was that a second car had the same mechanical trouble. And then a lorry. And a bus full of tourists. And then . . .
By the time he got to the station, the streets were choked with emergency personnel trying to get to the scattered wounded. Traffic had ground to a complete halt, which meant that the two cars nearest the entrance to the station just crunched to the ground when they were tampered with. Someone really had it out for the normal people, using magic to hurt so many of them for no reason.
The station itself was even more crowded than usual, given the number of people who had decided to try and get closer to home via mass transit. There wasn't going to be anyone getting there by car for a while. And in that mix were the last of the magicals, trying to unobtrusively enter their secret platform while almost being squashed by the horde of normal around them.
Hari was running late in no small part due to his staying around London for a while, enjoying the sights and trying listening to the endless speculation about the Minister whose resignation was expected any minute now. There were already crass jokes about how he could tell which was his mistress, which Hari felt was a shame, because the woman had been pretty enough. On the other hand, the questions of how she knew which was which . . .
That and the fact that he'd picked up some more samples of proper food for the House Elves. They were good at what they did, but he wanted to see if they could learn to make little cookie-sticks dipped in chocolate. The locals had an actual name for it, and it was so much easier to say. He intended to bring that home.
The barrier glowed. That wasn't right. Well, it always glowed, but it had more glow than usual to his Byakugan. He grabbed a trolley and flung it at the barrier. It crumpled against the brickwork. Well then, he wasn't poking that.
On the other hand, the train had probably just begun to pull out of the station. He didn't really feel like using the phoenix. If nothing else, it'd take him more than a day to get to the border with Scotland if he did, let alone to Hogwarts. And besides, he didn't like the little bastard. Oh well, nothing for it.
He trotted out of the station and around the side. The tracks he was looking for glowed. Hari sprinted along. The train was still in sight for him, and it got closer as he ran. He slammed a hand against the metal and used chakra to stick, nearly yanking his arm out of its socket as he pulled himself to the Express. Just as well it was still working up to full speed.
It was the work of a few moments to haul himself onto the side of the car and begin strolling along. The wind was blowing hard, but he'd once been too close to Uncle Kakazu's Pressure Damage. He tucked his hands into his pockets and went to visit his friends. They'd picked a carriage near the front, so he had to travel much of the length of the train.
X
X
"—and that's why the second of the laws for Transmutation we're going to learn this year is . . . why are you all staring at me like that? I wasn't that boring, was I?" Hermione sounded a little unsure of herself. She'd found she liked it when people learned from her.
"No," said Blaise.
"Not really," added Tracy.
"I stopped listening halfway through," replied Pansy.
"So what's the matter?"
"I'm hallucinating?" Millicent was frowning. "I think."
"Just for the sake of an argument," said Daphne, with the cautious tone of someone probing a wound, "what are you hallucinating?"
"That Hari is looking in at us through the window."
"Huh." Daphne considered for a moment. "Perhaps it's a group hallucination?"
"Come again?"
"I'm seeing the same thing."
"Me too," Tracy was rubbing her eyes.
"That's not possib—" Hermione didn't turn. "It's Hari." She sighed. "Blaise, would you open the window and let him in?"
Blaise shrugged and unlatched the window. A mildly disheveled Hari clambered in and dropped into a seat.
"Thanks you lot," he grumbled. "You left me out there for a while, didn't you? Do you people realize how cold it is when the wind is blowing like that?"
"Hari?"
"Yes, Hermione?"
"You just climbed into the window of a moving train."
"It's not at full speed yet."
"Not the point!"
"Then why did you mention it?"
"I didn't!"
"Where are you going with this?"
"If I had to guess," interjected Blaise, "she's upset that you're complaining about the cold when you just climbed in through the window of a moving train."
"Oh."
"Well?" Hermione prompted.
Hari said nothing.
Tracy nudged Hermione's ribs. "You forgot to ask a question."
"How did you do that?"
Hari cocked his head. "I didn't make her jab you."
Daphne sighed and covered her face with her hands. "Merlin, Morgana, and the Morrigan, my life was so . . . actually it was pretty messy before you came into it, now that I consider the matter—Astoria and all—still . . ."
"Um . . . Hari?" said Millicent softly.
"Yes?"
"I meant to ask when I saw you over the summer: what's with your eye?"
"What about my eye?"
"It's red."
"Ah. Pink eye."
"Hari?"
"Yes, Hermione?"
"It's spinning."
"Oh." He paused. "Magical pink eye."
There was a clatter as five people dove for the door to the compartment. "You have magical pink eye and you're in the room with us?" snarled Pansy from under Millie.
"You mean that's a real thing?"
"Yes!"
"To be fair," said Blaise, who had the advantage of having made it into the corridor. "It doesn't look like magical pink eye."
"You sure?" asked Tracy as she shoved past him and peered over his shoulder.
"Yeah. Magical pink eye makes your eyes glow bright pink and you tend to start talking in polka dots."
"You what?" Hermione's head had snapped around to stare.
"It doesn't look like magical pink eye?" interrupted Hari.
"Nah. No talking in spots."
"Okay. Then I stand by my diagnosis."
"Of course you do," muttered Pansy. "Please refrain from claiming to have highly contagious diseases in the future, please."
"It's not actually deadly," Blaise pointed out. "It's just that it's a pain and it spreads like, well, magical pink eye."
"Speaking of things that clear an area," said Millie, "did you guys hear about Diagon Alley?"
"I don't think anyone missed the news," Daphne said dryly.
"I did," said Hermione.
"Me too, actually." Hari leaned back in a seat.
"Apparently some muggle managed to get into Diagon Alley on her own. Not with a muggleborn or anything."
"Imagine that," commented Hari.
"Yeah. It caused a major fuss. And they took her away to the Department of Mysteries to be experimented on so they can figure out how a muggle managed to get in."
"Oops."
"Oops?"
"Did you make a mistake?" asked Hari in a helpful tone.
"No." Daphne leaned forwards. "You said it and we were wondering . . . oh no. You did, didn't you?"
"Not sure how to answer that one."
"Hari?"
He turned to face Pansy.
"Did you let a muggle into Diagon Alley?"
"No."
"Liar."
"I didn't!"
"Well, how about something that doesn't involve Hari?" suggested Hermione. "I didn't get all the details because my parents were unwilling to discuss them with me, but apparently the Minister for Foreign Trade was found in a compromising position with . . . a . . . why are you grinning like that?"
"Grinning like what?" asked Hari, his face instantly blank.
"You managed to cause a major Minister in Her Majesty's government to resign!"
"I did not!"
"You did."
"Et tu, Blaise?" Hari rose. "Fine then. I can see that I'm not welcome." His nose pointed slightly in the air as he opened the window and climbed out. He poked his head back in. "And he hasn't resigned yet." Then he left.
"He totally did it," said Tracy.
"No kidding," replied Daphne.
"Just hoping that we aren't charged as accessories," added Pansy.
"It's Hari," said Blaise. "He's not going to get charged. He won't even get accused. Except by Professor Snape."
"Yeah, but that doesn't count," commented Millie.
"If he could, Professor Snape would charge him with original sin." Hermione sighed at the confused looks on her friend's faces.
X
X
"Gred?"
"Yes, Gred?"
"I'm going to ask you something strange, brother."
"What is that, brother?"
"Am I hallucinating still?"
"I don't think so. I'm pretty sure we got the duration down to only ten minutes."
"You're sure."
"Pretty much."
"Really?"
"Why are you asking?"
"Because Harry Potter is knocking on our window."
"Come again?"
"Just turn around, Fred."
George turned around and gaped.
"So, I'm not hallucinating?"
"No, Forge."
"Oh good. And bad. Why is Harry Potter outside our window?"
"Good question, George."
"I have a better one, George."
"What's that?"
"Why is he knocking?"
"If I had to guess . . ."
"Please do."
"He wants to come in."
"You do realize how crazy that sounds, right?"
"Yep."
"What should we do?"
"Well, it would be rude to leave him out in the cold wind." There was a sudden smile on Hari's face and he nodded.
"I guess that settles it, then." George went over and opened the window.
"Hail, lord of chaos!" Fred knelt.
"What can we do for a brother in the art of mania?" asked Fred.
"Eh. Just looking for a place to spend the train ride."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't you have a bunch of friends?"
"Yeah. But they're busy accusing me of things. I feel like Uncle Tobi."
"You're in good company here, then."
"Too true, brother," added Forge. "We get accused of all sorts of things."
"Of course, we usually did them."
"This is true as well."
"But we still get accused of everything."
"You were a boon to us, you know, m'lord."
"Yeah?"
"Indeed. Everyone was trying to watch what you were going to do next. That alone let us get away with scores of pranks."
"I liked when you got Ravenclaws to have bright pink robes for the morning."
"We didn't do that!"
"I saw you."
"Bull!"
"No, really. I didn't recognize the potion you used, but it was clever to add it to the bench instead of the food. They'd have caught on to that early."
"How?"
"Trade secret."
"Say no more."
The door slid open. Lee Jordan blinked. "Why is Harry Potter in our compartment?"
"He came in through the window."
"I thought you'd fixed that duration problem."
"We did."
"Riiiiiight." Lee looked over at Hari, who was taking up a couple of seats as he stretched out. "You know, there's some kid working his way along the train to find you."
"Is that the little runt who poked his head in a while back?" asked George.
"Yeah. That's the one."
"Why?" Hari sounded genuinely confused.
"Well, to people who haven't spent ten months in a castle with you probably think that you're more interesting than insane."
"Bah."
"No really—"
"I'm not insane. I've grown up with my uncles. Trust me: I know insane."
"Uh . . ."
"Since we have you here, is there any chance we can enlist your aid in a prank?" asked George.
"Perhaps." Hari's smile showed far too many teeth. "I'd decided I needed to spice life up for those around me."
Fred's smile was equally broad. "Oh good. So we had this idea to . . ."
X
X
"So what's with the weird horses?" Hari's question caused his friends to jump.
Tracy yelped, then screamed. Her jump had sent her sideways and the impact on the door of the carriage had opened it, letting her tumble onto the ground. A moment later, Hari scooped her up and trotted back to the carriage, holding her out to Millie.
"You dropped this." They stared at him holding out a girl while moving at the same speed as their conveyance, all the while not winded. "But seriously, what's with the weird horses?"
"What horses?"
"The ones pulling the carriage?"
"There's nothing pulling the carriage."
"Actually, Daphne," said Blaise. "There are some creepy skeletal horses there."
"Why didn't you say anything?" asked Hermione.
"Because they're creepy, even to someone who's grown up with magic."
"Maybe they're thestrals?" suggested Hari. "I read descriptions of them, but no one made pictures."
"What are you talking about?"
Hari swung himself into the carriage. "Never mind. Are you guys glad you're not first years?"
"Very much so," said Pansy.
"Be more glad."
"Why?"
"No reason."
"Uh-huh."
"I'm just offering some advice."
"Of course you are."
"Glad you agree."
(A/N John)
This was a fun one. Really, it was. Poor Dobby didn't even get credited with much of the trouble. I expect that he is the cause of one of the biggest breaches of the Statute of Secrecy in decades. Also, come to think of it, poor pedestrians. And poor minister. Oh, and poor muggle being dissected by the DOM.
(A/N 2 John)
I hadn't quite planned all of the mess that happened this chapter. Bits of it, but not all. Certainly, I'm glad to say that Hari has returned to his roots (though not, thankfully, his ROOTs). And for those of you who are wondering, yes, he just used Kotoamatsukami.
(A/N 3 John)
I should be clear that Hari is mostly going to use it for either situations that are utterly frivolous or ones where he feels that killing is not a good solution. Please feel free to guess how often the latter comes up. And yes, me and Spoon have at least one in mind.
(A/N 4 John)
On the subject of Japanese versus English, I normally use the Japanese names, in no small part because I like how they sound. But in this story, I'm indulging in the apparent fact that the ninja all speak English. Also, some of the translations are really, really cool. (See Shinra Tensei and He With the Ability to Help By All Means)
John Out