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Chapter Text

The crowd seemed to part by itself as the trio made their way through the train station. The two larger figures were a well-muscled long-haired blond man in a well-tailored yet casual suit, a similarly muscled dark-haired man wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans while the smaller figure was a black-haired green-eyed boy.

“I don’t believe that we had to come all the way down to London just to send you back up to Scotland.” Ryu sighed as he led the way through King’s Cross Station.

“Stop whinging. I’m the one who did the driving.” Ken half-scolded, laughter dancing in his voice. “And we’ll be back way before Harry gets to his new school.”

Ryu looked round at the crowds, then at the pillar he had stopped beside. Reaching out, he tapped his fist against it.

“Huh. I can feel something odd here…”

Ken laid his hand on the bricks, then nodded. “Yeah, there’s something there, alright. Got your trunk?”

Harry nodded, pulling out a small wooden box about the size of a pack of playing cards from his jacket pocket, then placing it back and zipping the pocket closed.

“Then it’s time.” Ken offered his fist and Harry met it with his own, then repeated the action with Ryu. Ken promptly offered his fist to Ryu in turn, earning an exasperated look from the man and a giggle from Harry.

“Ken…” Ryu sighed, then he abandoned what he was about to say. “We’ll be back at the mansion by the time you reach Hogwarts. Once you get settled in, come visit on Saturday. McGonogall-Sensei said that travel can be arranged.”

“Okay.” Harry paused, then hugged Ryu tightly. “Gonna miss you, tou-san.”

“Same here.” Ryu whispered, then he gently extracted himself from his student’s hug. “Time for you to head on in. Tell us about it later.”

“Yes, Sensei.” Harry smiled up at the two men, then he stepped up against the wall, vanishing into it with not even a ripple to mark his progress.

“That was bizarre.” Ken tapped the wall again, then shrugged. “So, I spotted an interesting pub earlier, let’s try some proper English food, shall we?”

.

Harry stepped through the wall and out into an old-style train platform, one that had a red-painted steam train that had tendrils of smoke drifting up from its funnel. Despite it being over an hour prior to the departure time, there were already several families spread out along the platform as the parents said farewell to their children. One dark-haired girl glanced over at him, looked away, then spun round.

“What the… it can’t be!”

The mother of the girl looked across to see what her daughter was looking at. “What? Come back!”

The girl abandoned her sister and sprinted up to Harry, stopping in front of him and staring with wide eyes. “Are you… Are you Harry Potter?”

“…yes?”

“The same Harry Potter who starred in the Dawn Fist trilogy?”

Feeling a sense of mild relief at the fact that he was being identified for his own actions rather than surviving an attack, Harry nodded. “Yes, I am.”

The girl grabbed his hand and dragged him to where her parents were watching with an air of exasperated confusion. “Mum! Dad, you remember the films that Grandpa let us watch in his private cinema? This is Harry Potter!”

Both adults’ eyes lit up with recognition and the man bowed.

“We are honoured to meet you, Mister Potter. My daughter has several posters of you at home.”

“Daa-aad!” The girl protested, blushing furiously.

“Hush, Padma.” The man chuckled. “These are my daughters, Parvati and Padma Patil.”

“It’s an honor to meet you.” Harry replied politely, with a slight bow. “Are you starting this year too?”

Padma nodded, her face still red and Parvati cocked her head slightly. “Do you have any luggage?”

“Shrunken trunk in my pocket.”

“…that is so cool!” Padma breathed.

.

The platform was half an hour in the past as Harry finished up explaining the highlights of his past to the wide-eyed sisters.

“…and apparently I inherited a version of Parseltongue from my mother that would have let me understand reptiles, but whatever happened with that wizard who killed my parents somehow enhanced it to the point that I couldn’t tell the difference between it and other languages when talking to snakes.” Harry shrugged. “Dhalsim-Shifu helped with that, but it took a full month to get it back down to something I could consciously control.”

“You… studied… under… Dhalsim?” Padma managed in a shocked voice even as her sister spoke.

“You can speak to snakes?”

“Um, yes? Is this a big thing?”

“If either of your parents were still alive, they’d be getting a letter from our parents the day after they find out about this asking for a formal betrothal to one or even both of us.” Parvati shook her head wonderingly. “A Snake-Speaker in England is rare enough, but to have been taught by the great Dhalsim himself…”

“And with you being a warrior in your own right…” Padma half-whispered. “The only thing that would make you a better marriage prospect is if you were a hidden prince!”

“I don’t think I am. Am I?” Harry asked in confusion and Parvati shook her head.

“Father had us look at the lineages of the more important of our year-mates to be, as well as those of the couple of years above us.”

“He regretted that we couldn’t snag one from the Black line as their current junior member is a female Metamorphmagus.” Padma continued. “That is a rare ability which is mostly inherited but hasn’t shown up for the last five generations or so. For Andromeda Black to be cast out for marrying a Muggleborn, only to give birth to the most capable Metamorph in centuries? The Thousand Gods must have been rolling on the floor laughing at the irony.”

Harry joined in the laughter with a wry chuckle, then changed the subject. “So, Professor McGonogall explained about the four Houses when she brought me my letter.”

“I’m aiming for Ravenclaw.” Padma declared, then she grinned. “I hear that they have their own reference library right next to their common room!”

“Gryffindor for me, probably.” Parvati added, giving her twin a quick glance. “I’m not as studious and there’s no way I’m going into the politics of Slytherin. And you?”

“Ryu, Ken and I discussed it with McGonogall-Sensei.” Harry shrugged. “From what we could tell, I could be in any of the Houses.”

“…really?”

“Yes, apparently…” Harry stopped as the door to their compartment slid open without warning to reveal a sharp-featured boy with bone-blond hair. Standing behind him were two larger boys, both of whom seemed to be there more for physical intimidation rather than intellectual support, although the way that they stood screamed lack of actual combat training to Harry’s experienced eye.

“Harry Potter, I assume?” The boy said, glancing at the Patil twins before obviously dismissing them as being unimportant. “I am Draco Malfoy of the Malfoy family.”

Harry blinked. “Is that supposed to impress me? I’ve never heard of your family.”

Draco seemed to puff up in indignation. “The Malfoy family is the most politically powerful pureblood family in the entire united Kingdom! My father is the power behind the Minister!”

Harry shook his head. “Malfoy… Malfoy… what exactly is your family known for?”

Draco seemed to vibrate with anger as he glared at Harry. “I suppose that as you were raised in the muggle world, you wouldn’t know, but the Malfoy family is one of the most respected and renowned families in proper society! We are the leaders of the right sort of people, not like these foreigners!”

“We were born in Peterborough, thank you very much.” Padma snarked at the blond.

“Never heard of it.” Draco’s sneer was even more pronounced. “Probably a collection of muddy hovels.”

“It’s a city, you twit.” Parvati sighed. “On the East coast of England.”

“Time to end this discussion.” Hary decided as he rose from his bench and moved to the door. Glaring at the slightly-shorter boy, he moved forwards enough that Draco was forced to step back, then reached out and slid the door closed. Draco stared at him through the window and Harry gave him a small smirk and finger-wave before pulling down the blinds to block his view.

“Whatever house that idiot’s in, I don’t want to be in it.” He declared, turning round to see both girls staring at him. “…what?”

The twins exchanged glances, then started to giggle as Harry flopped back down onto the padded bench.

“So, either of you able to tell me who he was?” Harry prompted and the twins looked at each other before Parvati nodded to her sister.

“He was in one of the files we studied. Draco Lucius Malfoy, son of Lucius Abraxus Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy nee Black. The Malfoy family have traditionally been in Slytherin house at Hogwarts and their main line lives in Malfoy Mansion, a large home officially dating back to the eleventh century, but which has been destroyed and rebuilt several times.”

“The Malfoy family are power brokers who work behind the scenes to reap the rewards and shift the blame onto their puppets.” Parvati took over from Padma’s recitation. “They are also Pureblood Supremacists with Lucius Malfoy being a confirmed Death Eater, although he pled innocence on the basis that he had been controlled via the Imperius curse. By an amazing coincidence, St Mungo’s hospital received a massive anonymous donation around the same time.”

“Draco is believed to be the Heir to the Black Family, although he doesn’t wear the Heir’s Signet Ring.” Padma resumed. “If true, he stands to inherit the fabled Black Wealth and the Black Library, considered to be one of the largest archives of dark magic and blackmail material in the country.”

Harry shook his head. “He sounds like someone to avoid. Time to change the subject. Anything you’re looking forwards to learning at Hogwarts?”

“Mother says that one of the teachers is an Animagus.” Parvati gushed. “It sounds incredible being able to turn into an animal at will.”

Harry grinned. “It is. It’s great fun as well.”

Both girls stared at him in confusion.

.

The knock on the door preceded it sliding open and a bushy-haired girl leaned in.

“Sorry to interrupt, but have you seen a toad recently? Neville’s lost his.”

“Sorry, no.” One of the twins glanced up briefly and the newcomer’s eyes widened.

“Is that a tiger? I didn’t know that they were allowed as pets? What’s he called? Is it a he?”

“His name is Harry.” Padma giggled as she gently ran her fingers through the fur between the young tiger’s ears, causing his eyes to close in pleasure. “I’m Padma Patil and this is my sister Parvati.”

“Hermione Granger and this is Neville Longbottom.” The girl moved aside so that a slightly chubby boy could look past her. “How long have you had him?”

Before either twin could answer, a croak sounded and Neville vanished with a cry of “Trevor!”

“Sorry!” Hermione darted off and Harry rolled off the laps of the twins, reverting to his normal form as he landed.

“I was enjoying that.” Padma pouted and Harry shrugged.

“Sorry, needed to stretch.

“We got him…” Hermione declared as she returned, followed by Neville who was holding a toad. “…who are you? And where did the tiger go?”

The twins burst out laughing and Hermione gave them a confused look.

“What’s so funny?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Harry smiled. “Anyway, I’m Harry Potter…”

“I’ve read about you!” Hermione gasped. “You’re the-Boy-Who-Lived!”

“…not what I’m used to being recognised for.” Harry admitted.

“He’s a film star!” Parvati gushed. “He appeared with Fei Long in a full trilogy of action-drama films!”

“With who?” Hermione asked and Padma looked at her in confusion.

“Are you a Pureblood?”

“No, Muggleborn. Why?”

“How have you not seen the Dawn Fist trilogy?”

“The what?” Hermione asked, totally confused.

Harry chuckled as the twins began trying to educate the new arrivals on the three films he had starred in.

.

.

The Hogwarts Express juddered to a stop in a cloud of smoke and steam, finally halting with the final carriage barely past the start of the platform. As the engine hissed with the release of the steam that had propelled it, a sudden sequence of staccato clacks announced the unlocking of the doors. The doors slammed open to allow the students to begin flowing out of the train and onto the platform.

As the flow lessened, Harry led the other four out of one of the doors, looking round curiously.

“Do we just follow the other students?” He asked, then he was answered by a deep voice that echoed across the platform.

“Firs’ years over ‘ere!” The deep voice bellowed and Harry stared at the speaker in amazement.

“He’s bigger than Honda-Sensei!”

“Who?” Hermione asked, then she shook her head. “Not important right now.”

“Come on.” Harry stepped forwards, then his hands snapped up as an older student in blue-trimmed robes tried to push him aside. A blur of movement had the would-be pusher lying face-down on the ground, Harry holding his arm twisted in such a way that he couldn’t escape.

“Lemme go!” The student tried to shout, but Harry exerted a bit of effort and the demand turned into a pained gasp.

“Be more careful next time.” Harry said coldly, then he slowly released his grip on the older boy’s wrist. The student half-scrambled away and Hermione crouched down.

“He dropped this.” She held up a copper badge with an ornate P embossed on it. “I wonder what it is?”

“Let’s give it to that big man.” Harry suggested and Hermione nodded.

“Firs’ years over ‘ere!” The man called again and Harry waved for the others to precede him. The huge man looked round at them, lifting his lantern higher to get a good look, then nodded and turned, waving one hand.

“This way!”

Harry reached out to catch Padma as she stumbled, then his other hand caught Parvati, who giggled.

“Do you often have a girl on each arm?” She chuckled and Harry grinned.

“Fei Long and Uncle Ken both teased me about how the girls on set seemed to blush whenever I was around.” His reply caused both girls to stare at him in surprise. “Aunt Chun-Li used to hug me whenever I visited her. Her first word to me was Kawaii which means cute.”

“Cute?”

“Well, according to her, I was really cute back then.” Harry smiled in embarrassed pride. “She even had the picture that Ken-Sensei took of me fast asleep in her lap framed and hung up in her office.”

“I have to see that.” Parvati whispered, earning a look from her sister.

“No more’n four to a boat!” The huge man called out and Hermione glanced back at them before bustling off with Neville in tow, joining a pair of girls at another boat. Harry helped both Padma and Parvati into one of the boats, then vaulted into it, landing on the rear bench.

“’old on!” the man waved a small, pink umbrella, then the boasts slid off the stony beach and into the water with a grinding noise. “Get ready to see ‘ogwarts!”

The spit of land they were sailing round seemed to slide aside to reveal a huge castle built on a rocky prominatory, the windows shining brightly like stars.

“Wow…” Harry managed, his eyes taking in the vista before him. “This is… wow.”

“So erudite.” Padma giggled and Harry stuck his tongue out at her, then looked up at the huge castle where he was going to learn magic.

“Watch yer ‘eads!”

Harry lowered his gaze to see the first few boats vanishing into an ivy-lined cave.

“Well, this is it.” He whispered to himself as the open mouth of the cave engulfed them.

Chapter Text

The multiple flights of stairs up from the quay in the cave had left more than a few of the students-to-be panting for breath as they gathered before a pair of huge wooden doors. Lifting his lantern up, the huge man looked at them all, his lips moving as he counted them, then he nodded and slapped one hand against the door, causing a huge boom.

For a long moment, nothing happened, then one of the doors opened just enough to allow a tall, familiar figure through.

“This is all of them, Hagrid?” Professor McGonogall asked and the huge man nodded.

“Yep, dey all here.”

“I will take it from this point, Hagrid.”

Hagrid nodded, then slipped through the doors and into whatever lay beyond. As the door closed behind him, McGonogall looked round at them.

“Soon, you will be entering Hogwarts and will be Sorted into one of the four Houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. All four Houses have their own histories, traditions and famed alumni. While you are here, your new House will act as your family, supporting you as you become the witch or wizard that you have the potential to be.
“In a few moments, you will enter the Great Hall to begin your education. Before then, I would advise you to ensure that your clothes are neat and tidy, ready for the ceremony.”

Harry couldn’t see who she was glaring at, but he could see Draco smirking at whoever had roused her ire, then McGonogall vanished back through the door.

As soon as the door clanged shut, several of the students began talking and Draco’s voice rose over them.

“It’s such a pity that they allow mudbloods to attend. Education is wasted on them.”

Harry glared at the blond, the suddenly something seemed to brush against his senses.

“Wha…” he began, only for a chorus of screams to erupt. Spinning round, Harry spotted several silvery figures seeming to flow out of the wall, some of them talking with each other.

“Yuurei!” He hissed, hacking away and channelling Chi to his fists.

“Um, what’s a you-eye?” One of the twins asked and Harry shifted slightly.

“Undead. Often violent. Dangerous.”

“They’re just the School Ghosts.” One of the girls interjected and Harry glanced her. The girl looked at him, one hand adjusting the long braid of sandy-brown hair which was draped over her shoulder, then she smiled. “Susan Bones, my aunt is the head of the DMLE.”

“Harry Potter.” Harry gave her a slight bow. “May I present Padma and Parvati Patil?”

“Pleased to meet you.” Susan held out her hand for the twins to shake. “Aunt Amelia spent a while trying to find you after you vanished from your relatives. Where were you?”

“All around the world.” Harry grinned, then paused as the door creaked open once more.

“We are ready.” McGonogall declared. “This way and stay together.”

Carefully keeping to the other side of the hallway from the silvery spectres (despite the odd looks that Susan was giving him) Harry let himself be moved by the crowd into the Great Hall.

The Hall itself was quite large, although some of the studio sets that Harry had been on had been larger. However, the odd part was the ceiling, where the rafters seemed to fade out of visibility and the roof itself seemed to be transparent, showing the dark clouds above.

The actual layout of the Great Hall was fairly simple with four long wooden tables stretching about three-quarters of the length of the Hall while a fifth table (covered in an embroidered tablecloth) was set crossways at the end on a raised dais. Since the four lengthways tables had students of various sizes sat at them, the fifth one was obviously the one used by the Teachers, a deduction proven correct almost instantly by the sight of Hagrid trying hard not to loom at one end.

“Stay here until I call your name.” McGonogall commanded, then she walked across to the end of the Teacher’s table, retrieving a three-legged stool and an old, battered hat which seemed to shine brightly in a way that Harry hadn’t ever encountered before. Putting the stool down just in front of the upper table, she placed the hat on it, then stepped back slightly. For a long, breathless moment, nothing happened and then the hat suddenly shifted by itself. Creases shifted and moved to make it look like the hat had an actual face, then it began to sing in a gravelly voice.

Allowing himself to passively absorb the information in the song, Harry slowly turned to examine the students staring at him and the other newcomers. The students at each table had coloured trim on their robes with each table being a specific colour, colours that matched up to four of the five huge banners hanging on the wall behind the Teacher’s table.

The song finally ended and McGonogall pulled out a scroll from somewhere, then unrolled it.

“Abbott, Hannah!”

The girl in question scurried nervously forwards and McGonogall directed her to sit on the now-vacated stool, then placed the hat on her head. For a long moment, the hat remained silent, although it did shift a few times, then it spoke.

“Hufflepuff!”

The students at the middle-right table burst into cheers and several of them motioned towards empty spots on the benches.

“So that’s Hufflepuff.” Harry noted, glancing round. “And with a badger as their banner-animal… Slytherin would be the snake, Ravenclaw the… eagle? And Gryffindor the lion. Makes sense.”

A shout from the hat of “Ravenclaw!” caused the blue-and-bronze-trimmed students to burst into cheering.

“Called it.” Harry smiled to himself, then the students at the Slytherin table started clapping in a reserved manner as their first new student was announced.

More and more students were sent to the Houses they would be staying with and Harry noticed that some of the students were Sorted almost as soon as the Hat touched their heads, while others took longer. Some even seemed to speak to the Hat, although no sound at all escaped until the Hat was lifted once more.

Hermione Granger ended up in Ravenclaw after almost three minutes while Neville (whose last name turned out to be Longbottom) was warmly welcomed into Hufflepuff. Draco Malfoy was Sorted into Slytherin even before the Hat had finished landing on his head, a decision which caused him to smirk as he strutted across to the table in question. Padma Patil was happy to be a Ravenclaw student while Parvati eagerly bounced across to Gryffindor.

And finally, his name was called.

“Potter, Harry!”

As Harry stepped forwards, the whispers started and Harry managed not to smile as the comments of those raised in the Magical world intersected the comments of those raised in the Muggle world.

“It’s the Boy-Who-Lived!”

“He’s even more handsome than he was in the Dawn Fist trilogy!”

“He defeated You-Know-Who as an infant!”

“Do you think he can do that fiery kick in real life?”

Reaching the stool, he sat down and let McGonogall lower the Hat on his head. The brim fell over his eyes, then he felt something pushing lightly at his mind in a manner more akin to a polite knock than actual attempted entry.

“Well, well, well. You have some very interesting shields, Mister Potter.” The Hat spoke and Harry smiled.

“Dhalsim-Shifu taught me when he removed a parasitic shard.”

“I… have no idea what that means.” The Hat admitted, then Harry felt the slight push again. “May I have a look at you? It would be very difficult to Sort you if I do not know what kind of person you are.”

Harry nodded and closed his eyes in concentration, then the Hat was suddenly there.

Well, well, well. You are one of the more intriguing people I have ever had the fortune of Sorting. You make friends easily and your word is your bond – Helga would have clasped you to her bosom and threatened to adopt you.
You have learned much already, including how to learn. Yes, Rowena would have been proud to have counted you amongst those she taught directly.
You have learned how to be cunning, how to see below the surface and observe the currents below. Salazar would have enjoyed testing you and seeing the direction you took.
And your bravery is unquestionable, as are your martial skills. Oh, Godric would have had you accompanying him on his quests without a second thought.
But where shall I Sort you, hmmmm?

-I would prefer to avoid Slytherin- Harry thought, pushing an image of Draco Malfoy forwards and he felt the Hat chuckle.

You may be right. If I Sort you there, Madam Pomphrey will soon be overwhelmed. So, not Slytherin. Yet you seek challenges, to improve yourself… yes, I think that the best place for you would be…
“Gryffindor! And the Salle is to be re-opened, he’ll need it!”

The entire Hall went silent, the cheering stopping as if it had been chopped off with an axe at the Hat’s unexpected comment. Glancing behind him, Harry saw the turban-wearing teacher looking confused while the shortest one on the table, one who had a rather goblin-like cast to his features, had perked up and was giving him a contemplative look.

Handing the hat back to McGonogall along with the badge he had picked up from the platform, the latter of which had her giving him a semi-confused, semi-exasperated look, Harry made his way across to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Parvati, who gave him a measuring look, then nodded.

“You studied under the Great Dhalsim. You’ll need to stay in practice.” She noted, then leaned towards him. “Can you teach me anything? Staying in shape is vital if you want to look good.”

“I do know a few exercises.” Harry allowed, then he frowned in thought. “I think the ones that Aunt Chun-Li taught me would work best for you, those ones help quite a bit with speed and flexibility.”

Another round of applause from the members of Gryffindor not shamelessly listening in to their conversation marked the entry of Weasley, Ron into Gryffindor House, followed by Zabini, Blaise heading for Slytherin.

Once the final student was sat, the elderly man in the most ornate chair stood, revealing that his beard was so long, he kept it tucked into his belt.

“Welcome one and all to Hogwarts!” he said, effortlessly projecting his voice so that everyone could hear him. “To all those who have just joined us, it is wonderful to have you here and to those returning, it is wonderful to have you back.
“May I take a moment to specifically welcome back Professor Quirrell, who is returning from his sabbatical to take up his new post teaching Defence Against The Dark Arts.”

Dumbledore started clapping and more than a few of the students joined in while the turban-wearing man gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Once the applause had died down, Dumbledore resumed speaking.

“Due to some problems which we hope to get resolved, the third-floor corridor in the East wing is currently out of bounds. For your own safety, please do not go into that area.
“The Forbidden Forest is just that, forbidden, so entering it is not allowed. Please remember that.
“Now, before we eat, just a few more words – welcome back!”

Harry blinked as Dumbledore sat down again, then he twitched as the aroma of multiple foods hit him. The table, which had been completely empty a mere moment ago, was now filled with platters, bowls and plates of food to the point that he half-expected to hear the wood groaning.

“I don’t even know what a third of these are.” Harry admitted almost ruefully and one of the students further up leaned forwards to look at him.

“What sort of food are you used to?”

“Mainly rice or noodle based.” Harry replied. “Curries are nice.”

“This one’s curry!” A deep platter containing something almost violently red made its way down to him.

“Any rice?” Harry asked, then sighed as head-shakes came back. “Any plain potatoes? Thank you.”

Tipping some of the boiled potatoes onto his plate, Harry ladled some of the erstatz curry over the top, then picked up his fork and took a tentative taste. Chewing for a moment, he shrugged and took another forkful.

“May I try some of that?” Ron asked from where he was seated nearby and Harry passed over the half-empty dish.

.

With the puddings a pleasant memory and the so-called song a far less enjoyable one, Harry found himself and the other first-years following an older red-headed boy who had introduced himself with “Percy Weasley, Prefect. Follow me” up several flights of stairs and a couple of short corridors, at least until their journey was interrupted by a rain of falling walking sticks.

“Ooh, new firsties for Peeves!” A wizened spectre leered at them as he flew overhead, pulling more walking sticks out of a bundle he was carrying and throwing them as the frantically-dodging children.

“Stop that now, Peeves!” Percy shouted and the ghost giggled.

“You can’t stop me, Wheezy-boy! You can’t eve-gack!”

His patience exhausted, Harry channelled his Chi into his legs, using the boost to launch himself into the air and into a spinning axe kick that caught the surprised ghost across the back of his neck, slamming him down and straight through the floor of the passage in a ripple of ectoplasm with Harry landing softly a second later.

“…how?” Percy finally managed and Harry shrugged.

“Training?”

.

After Percy had recovered from the sudden defeat of what had apparently been a Poltergeist as opposed to a regular ghost, the shaken Prefect had resumed leading them upwards, eventually coming to a halt in front of a large portrait of a plus-sized woman. To Harry’s surprise, the woman nodded at them, then looked at Percy.

“Password, please.”

“Bravery.”

“Thank you, dear.” The woman replied as the entire portrait frame swung open on hidden hinges, revealing a large doorway behind it that reminded Harry instantly of the Moon Gate outside Chun-Li’s Dojo. Stepping aside, Harry let the others clamber through first, bringing up the rear and hearing the painting thud closed behind him.

“Thank you, Percy.” McGonogall said from where she was standing beside the fireplace, causing the tall red-head’s mouth to close with a click. “I will take it from here.”

“…Yes, Professor. I… I’ll report afterwards.”

As Percy vanished up one of the stairs, McGonogall turned to look at the gaggle of first-years.

“Welcome to Gryffindor House.” She stated. “For the next seven years, this House will act as your Hogwarts family. They will support, help and guide you as you learn.
“Gryffindor has a long history of being at the forefront of every battle, every rescue and every exploration mission and due to one of our new members…” McGonogall gave Harry a look, “…the decision has been made to re-open the Salle. You will be shown where it is tomorrow and the Headmaster is already seeking a new Battlemaster, a position which has not been needed for over a century.”

Harry raised a mental eyebrow at the comment.

“Before we continue, I believe that many of you are curious as to how Mister Potter is well-known not just in the Magical World, but also the Muggle World.” She added and all eyes snapped to Harry. “Mister Potter, if you would come forwards?”

Calling upon the lessons on dealing with the public which Fei Long had carefully imparted to him, Harry smoothly strode forwards, turning to face the crowd as he stopped by McGonogall, then he stepped half a pace forwards.

“Most of you have questions, so if you do, please raise your hand.” He said, feeling McGonogall’s surprise at how he had taken control. “You, name, year and question if you please?”

“Fred Weasley, third year.” The indicated red-head stated and Harry took an instant to memorise how his Chi felt as well as the almost-identical Chi of the identical-looking boy next to him. “If it isn’t too personal, what happened to you? Dad was recruited by the DMLE to aid with the search for you because he’s got some experience with the Muggle world, so…?”

Harry smiled in memory. “I was rescued from drowning by Ryu-Sensei, who noted that I was not being looked after properly by my so-called relatives. He decided to take me on as his apprentice and…”

.

“Albus.”

“Alastor.” Dumbledore nodded in greeting as the scarred man stepped out of the fireplace. “Enjoying retirement?”

A glower was his response and Albus smiled. “I have a job opening that I believe that you may be interested in.”

“DADA teacher? What happened to Quirrell?”

“Not quite, although you may want to consult with him.” Albus shook his head. “The Castle has re-opened the Salle…”

“Which means that you need a Battlemaster, like my Grandpa was.”

“I do indeed, my friend.”

The scarred man frowned thoughtfully.

“So, who is it who came here with the skillset that triggered the old spells?”

“Harry Potter.” Albus’ reply caused the ex-Auror’s eyebrows to lift in surprise. “And judging from what I have learned from Minerva, I would strongly advise you to contact his guardians who are apparently very gifted in many different ways of combat…”

Chapter Text

“Harry? What are you doing on the floor?”

Harry transitioned from asleep to awake with the reflexive speed of hard training, looking up at Ron Weasley who was staring down at him with an expression of confusion.

“Did you fall off the bed or something?”

Harry shook his head and rolled out of his impromtu sleeping arrangement comprised of a folded quilt acting as a mattress and a blanket wrapped around him as insulation against the night air. Rising to his feet, he stretched to check that he hadn’t accidentally strained anything in his sleep, then responded to the question he had been asked.

“The mattress was too soft for me. I prefer futons to western-style beds although I’ve slept on the ground quite a bit while travelling with Ryu.”

“What’s a few-tun?” Ron asked, his face creased in confusion.

.

After a quick (but thorough) shower and a faster drying through channelling Chi to repel the water, Harry got dressed and made his way down to the Great Hall where breakfast was waiting. There were already a number of students eating and Harry helped himself to some porridge from a large tureen, sprinkling some sliced fruit into it and adding a large dollop of honey to sweeten it. As he ate, other students filtered into the Hall and began helping themselves to the foodstuffs arrayed along the middle of the tables, some of them going for toast and jam while others piled sausages, bacon, beans, eggs and other foodstuffs Harry couldn’t identify onto their plates.

“Mister Potter, your schedule.” Professor McGonogall stated from behind him and Harry looked round to see her holding out a piece of parchment for him to take.

“Arigato, McGonogall-Sensei.”

A raised eyebrow caused him to consider what he had just said and he gave an embarrassed smile. “I mean, thank you, professor.”

“You are welcome, Mister Potter.” McGonogall replied, then she somehow produced more pieces of Parchment and walked off. “Misters Weasley…”

“We haven’t even done anything yet!” One of the targeted twins yelped, earning a truly ferocious glower.

Harry snickered and then resumed eating.

.

Finding the first class was almost an adventure in its own right with the many strange phenomenon that twisted and changed the routes through the castle. At one point, Harry had looked up and discovered that he was apparently walking across the ceiling of the entrance hall, despite knowing that the corridor he was using was actually on the other side of the castle.

The classroom (when he finally found it) was surprisingly high, the arched ceiling illuminated by the light coming in through the windows which made up one entire wall. Moving into the classroom, Harry spotted a spare seat at the desk where two familiar faces sat.

“Padma, Hermione.” He nodded as he sat down next to Padma, giving both girls a nod as he did so. Padma smiled broadly at him while Hermione tilted her head, looking up and down at him.

“What?”

“My fault.” Padma apologised as Parvati entered the room and spotted them. “I’ve been telling Hermione about how awesome you are.”

“Did you really…?” Hermione cut herself off as a book floated past her, followed by a second, then a third. Soon, a veritable river of books were flying towards the front of the classroom, settling down into a pillar. On the final book was the short teacher that Harry had seen at the feast and with an almost balletic dip-and-swirl, the book settled, positioned so that the man could look out at them with his bright eyes full of pleasure.

“Good morning and welcome to your first lesson of Charms!” He announced with a huge smile. “For those of you not in Ravenclaw, my name is Filius Flitwick and I hold the positions of Charms Professor as well as being the Head of Ravenclaw House.
“Today, we will be beginning your education in the many and myriad uses of Charms with a simple one which is nonetheless very useful indeed. There are no wand movements to worry about, just the incantation and the visualisation. Observe!”

Flitwick flicked his wand, causing the room to plunge into darkness, then his voice echoed. “Lumos.”

A bright point of light blinked into existence, the illumination hovering just above the tip of Flitwick’s wand yet bright enough to allow everyone to see each other.

“The Lumos Charm. A spot of light useful when you are in a dark area.” Flitwick continued. “A single word to make it happen, and a single word to stop it. Nox.”

The room plunged into darkness once more, then the windows slowly lightened until daylight was streaming in once more.

“The key to this spell is to know what you want.” Flitwick held up his wand which was once again illuminated, this time with a spark of light that was constantly shifting colours, then it seemed to expand into a flowery shape. “Visualisation is the key. You must focus on the light, on the colour, the size and the brightness. Now, get out your wands and let us begin.”

Harry reached round to the small of his back and pulled out his wand from the horizontal holster tied to the sash, earning a surprised look from the three girls he was sharing the desk with.

“That’s an odd place to keep your wand.” Parvati noted and Harry shrugged.

“I already have a dagger there, so it made sense.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Hermione asked, but the reply came from the front of the room.

“Miss Granger, in the hands of a skilled witch or wizard, a knife is nowhere near as dangerous as a wand such as that which you hold in your hand even now.”

A contemplative silence filled the classroom for a moment, then Flitwick held up his wand, a dozen sparks of light orbiting its tip in different directions. “You can think about it later. For now, please resume.”

Harry held his wand up and focused on a spot of light appearing at the tip. “Lumos!”

The flash of light caused him to drop his wand and rub at his eyes, grumbling things that would have had Chun-Li threatening to wash his mouth out with soap.

“Perhaps a little less magic next time, Mister Potter.” Flitwick called out over the rising litany of curses and complaints.

.

“So, you have a knife?” Neville asked and Harry nodded.

“It’s very useful, more than people think. Food preparation, wood carving, self defence, chopping kindling… Uncle Guile even had one of his friends give me lessons in how to use it in combat, although I still prefer to fight bare-handed. K-Bar knives are awesome, but they’re not designed to channel Chi through.”

“Can you channel Chi through a Wand?” Hermione asked and Harry blinked.

“Huh. You know, I’ve never actually thought of trying that…”

.

The Herbology Greenhouses looked far more modern than anything in Hogwarts Castle itself, although the wooden framing holding the panes of glass in place rather than a metal frame declared to anyone who knew what to look for that while it was more modern, it wasn’t actually modern, although it was certainly very well built with jointing that Harry noted was at least as solid as those he’d seen in the castles that Chun-Li had escorted him and Ryu around.

It had been very interesting learning about why Japanese castles were made of wood on carefully-arranged mounds of piled stone whereas western castles were monoliths of mortared stone. The concept of a solid foundation that could absorb unexpected changes was one that translated well into martial arts.

The plants inside the greenhouse were mainly green, although in far more shades than Harry had ever seen before and a few that looked like they would even glow in the dark. At the far end, one of the plants moved in a slow, sinuous manner that reminded him of snakes, yet was different enough to make him wary.

“Welcome to your first lesson of Herbology!” The woman waiting for them smiled, not caring about the smear of soil on her left cheek. “I am Professor Pomona Sprout, Herbology Professor and Head of Hufflepuff House. Now, you are here to learn about the plants we grow for use here. Once you have learned about them and can handle them properly, we shall see about other plants that you may encounter, some of which do rely on… special handling if you want to remain safe around them.”

As she spoke, one of the moving vines slithered along one of the shelves and reached out for her, only for Professor Sprout to slap it aside without even bothering to look.

“Back to your frame.” She scolded it and the vine shrank back from her. “Don’t make me get the secateurs out!”

The vine whipped backwards and wound itself back into the wooden frame that it had detached from, seeming to shrink back slightly as Sprout glared at it.

“And stay there!”

Harry stared in amazement at the plant.

.

The cat on the desk was very suspicious. Even if his Chi-senses (developed under Dhalsim’s patient tuition) hadn’t told him that the cat was far more than it appeared, the way it was sitting and watching the arriving students would have. No cat simply would watch multiple children in that manner, they would either ignore them or glare at them, unless they wanted attention.

No, this was something different.

Placing his hands on the desk, Harry leaned forwards, then he concentrated. An instant later, he stood on all four paws next to the suddenly-shocked cat and tilted his head as he tried to communicate.

Curiosity – identity – leader?

Confirmation – curiosity – knowledge?

Sire.

Confusion – sire – far-hunting?

Great knowledge one – open-path – teaching.

The cat jumped off the desk, turning into Professor McGonogall as it landed and Harry followed suit, stumbling slightly due to the transition between paws and feet.

“Mister Potter, we will need to discuss your Animagi skill and how you attained it after the lesson.” McGonogall stated, her eyes a mix of emotions that Harry had no hope of deciphering.

“Is it a common skill?” Harry asked curiously.

“It’s a very rare skill, usually attained after more study than most magicals are willing to undertake.” McGonogall confirmed. “You… didn’t know?”

Harry shook his head and the teacher sighed, before glancing round at the wide-eyed students gaping at them. “You will need to be registered before you graduate and from how you landed, I do not think you have spent much time in your feline form. We will discuss this afterwards but for now, find a seat.”

Harry moved to an empty desk, ignoring how Draco Malfoy was staring at him, his jaw dropped and eyes wide. McGonogall moved to behind the her desk, then looked round. “Miss Patil, you were not surprised?”

“He showed us on the Express.” Parvati replied with a smile of memory. “His fur is really soft…”

“…huh.” McGonogall shook her head as the last student, the red-haired Ron Weasley, dashed into the room a mere second before the bell that announced the start of lessons and plonked himself down beside Harry. “Stay behind afterwards, Mister Potter.”

“In trouble already? What did you do?” Ron asked, his eyes wide.

.

“It is unusual for me to have an Animagus as a student.” McGonogall noted once the last of the other students had departed. “And in all my career, I can only remember two who were such in their first-years, both of whom were Muggleborn and whose skills were the result of accidental magic which they had learned to use at will. In both cases, though, their forms were housepets of the same species as the pets that they adored. Having a tiger in my class is highly unusual. How did you acquire this skill?”

“It was a gift.” Harry shrugged, then noted the confused look on McGonogall’s face.

“A… gift?” She repeated. “I had heard that the Ugandan School uses a set of rituals to aid in gaining an animagus form, although the results are more limited… is that what you were referring to?”

Harry shook his head and opened his mouth, but a new voice interjected.

“I shall explain, young Harry.”

“Dhalsim-Shifu!” Harry grinned at the tall figure that McGonogall was gaping at, then her wand was in her hand and a spell flashed through the Yoga Master, hitting the desk behind him and wrapping it in chains.

“He’s sorta not here. He only thinks he is.” Harry paused. “What was it Ken-Sensei said… Astral Projection?”

“Indeed. The defences on this place are formidable, but they do not stop the passage of a living spirit that does not seek to harm, only educate.” Dhalsim intoned. “Do not fear, I come in peace. Run along, young Harry. You have places to be, do you not?”

McGonogall nodded almost absently and as he left, Harry heard Dhalsim begin talking.

“Harry’s gift was granted to him by the spirit of his father…”

.

The Potions classroom door slammed open and a sallow-faced man with dark, lanky hair strode in, his robe fluttering dramatically. Reaching the front of the room, he spun round, revealing dark, glowering eyes and a hooked nose that could have been describes as a beak by those of an ornithological bent.

“My name is Professor Snape. You are here before me to learn the subtle and mysterious art which is Potions.” He sneered at them. “There will be no wand-waving in this class. Instead, I will teach you how to distil fame, bottle glory and even stopper death… assuming that you have at least a modicum of talent and willingness to apply yourselves unlike so many Dunderheads I have to put up with.”

The room went silent and Snape looked at them, then his eyes narrow. “I see that we have a celebrity amongst us today. Isn’t that right, Mister Potter?”

Harry blinked. “You’re a Dawn Fist fan?”

“…what.”

“Harry starred in the Dawn Fist Trilogy as Fei Long’s student.” One of the other students supplied and Snape blinked several times, his expression that of a man who has just stepped onto a woven rug, only to find that it was a trampoline. “He did all his own stunts!”

“You watched the out-takes too?” Harry turned to look at the Hufflepuff boy who had spoken, getting a nod and wide grin back.

“Yep. The one where you misjudged your jump and ended up in the trifle was hilarious.”

“The trifle was fake, mainly foam, but yeah. It got everywhere and Ken-Sensei teased me about turning blond for days after.” Harry reminisced.

Snape was looking even more lost than before. “I… was referring to the Boy-Who-Lived part of your fame.”

“I hate that title.” Harry shook his head. “Dhalsim-Shifu and I have discussed it and he agrees that the only reason I survived that night was because my mother did something to destroy Voldemort’s mortal form and send his soul fleeing. If not for those anchors of his, it would have killed him outright rather than simply turn him into a sort-of ghost.”

“…anchors?”

“Yeah, things to stop him dying completely but which cracked his soul and means that he’ll never be able to reincarnate.” Harry shrugged. “Dhalsim-Shifu has come across that technique before and he was able to remove the anchor that had attached to me as well as confirm that another anchor exists somewhere. No clue where, though.”

Snape had the expression of someone who was massively regretting the entire line of conversation, just like Ryu when Harry had asked him why women were sitting in their underwear in the windows of the city they were walking through.

Harry had still yet to get an actual answer rather than “local tradition”.

Finally, Snape shook his head and waved his wand, causing multiple lines of writing to appear on the blackboard. “Today, we will be working on the Acne-removal potion. The ingredients you will need are in the third cupboard, instructions are on the board. Get a partner and begin.”

“Can I join you?” A girl asked and Harry looked round. “I introduced myself before the Sorting, but you may have forgotten given everything else. I’m Susan Bones. My Aunt is head of the DMLE, she’ll probably want to talk to you about those… anchors.”

“The more people looking for them, the better.” Harry nodded at her, then motioned towards the board. “So, do you have any idea what some of those things we need are?”

“I’ll get the ingredients, you get the water and set up the cauldron.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

.

“So, you’re the one needing a Battlemaster.” The scarred man growled from the corner of the large hall that McGonogall had just shown Harry into. “I’ve seen those three films you were in… you able to do those moves in reality?”

Harry nodded. “Yep, although it’s easier in my usual clothes. These robes are too restricting.”

The man tilted his head slightly. “Interesting. So, show me something to prove that you’re worth my time. If I’m coming out of retirement, it’d better be for something worthwhile.”

Harry nodded, then walked into the center of the hall. Bowing to the old man, he dropped into the stance that E. Honda had taught him, then began the strikes and blows of Sumo, finishing the routine with a dozen-palm-strike.

“Interesting techniques.” The man mused, having stomped round Harry for a better view and revealing in the process that one of his legs was artificial, tipped with a claw-like foot. “Never seen those before. So, primarily physical?”

“I have some more learning to go before I can even hope to attempt moves like the Hadouken.” Harry admitted. “Ryu-Sensei says that I’m close, though.”

“I think I need to meet this Ryu-Sensei of yours.”

“Ken-Sensei has a house in Mallaig, I have the address.”

“We’ll go together, you can introduce me to this Ryu Ken of yours. You’ve got potential, boy. I’ll admit to that now.”

“I’ll need your name if I’m to introduce you.” Harry prompted and the man barked with laughter.

“Moody. Alistor Moody, Auror Emeritus.”

.

The door to the staff room slammed open and Moody stomped in, glaring at everyone as he moved to the corner where a seat was waiting for him. Casting several spells on it, he sat down.

“So, we are all here.” Albus noted. “Who wants to start?”

“I will.” Moody leaned forwards. “Potters’ guardians, I met them. They impressed me. Not sure how well I’d do against them in any fight that weren’t me ambushing them. Thinking of bringing them in to help me, so I’ll need medallions for them.”

“Aren’t they m-m-muggles?” Quirrel asked nervously and Moody barked with laughter, but it was McGonogall who answered.

“Among those who have taught Mister Potter already is a high-level practitioner named Dhalsim…”

“Dhalsim?” Moody interjected, his non-glass-eye narrowing. “Well now, that explains far more than it doesn’t.”

“Who is this… D-Dhalsim?” Quirrel enquired and Moody cracked another laugh.

“Legend. Absolute legend among those who fight the Dark professionally. Trained some of the greatest warriors in Africa, gave pointers to more who sought him out or caught his attention. Tried to find him myself, but couldn’t. Has a soft spot for children, won’t help anyone who doesn’t treat them right… so you’d be out of luck immediately, Snape.”

The Potions Master looked away pointedly.

“Albus, I’m in. I’ll even teach others of my choosing, so expect to see me in your class, Quirrel. I want to see what potential’s there.”

“There’s a Metamorphmagus in my House, currently in her final year.” Sprout offered and Moody nodded.

“Nymphadora Tonks. Already know of her through her mother. Going to approach her next, if you don’t mind.”

“Could I stop you?” Sprout smirked and Moody cackled with amusement.

“Speaking of Potter,” McGonogall interjected, “Does anyone know what a Futon is and where we could get one? Harry has noted that the beds we provide are far too soft for him and Misters Weasley and Finnigan have both confirmed that young Harry prefers to sleep on the floor instead…”

Chapter Text

Harry stepped into the Sparring Hall and paused in the process of shedding his over-robe as he saw who was waiting for him. Hurriedly throwing the robe over the nearby hatstand, Harry bowed deeply, then almost ran across to catch Ryu with a flying hug.

“Missed you.” He mumbled, then as Ryu released him, Ken stepped in and slapped his shoulder in greeting.

“It’s only been a couple of days. Doing well with your learning?”

“Now that I’ve got a proper futon to sleep on rather than that cloud pretending to be a bed, yes.” Harry reached up to rest his hand briefly on the one resting on his shoulder. “Good to see you too, Ken-Sensei.”

Shuffling behind him indicated that the few-dozen who had also decided to attend were entering and Harry turned to watch them do so. Most of the Pureblood faction were clad in Quidditch robes, which were designed to allow for more movement due to the high-energy nature of the sport (as well as strategically-placed padding for protection against Bludgers), but the others were clad in loose trousers and t-shirts or in actual sparring outfits.

“More than I expected.” Moody noted from the side. “You two warm them up, you’re the experts when it comes to the physical stuff.”

“Howabout we show them what they might be able to do someday?” Ken asked with a grin. “Can you put up a few targets for us? A couple of floating targets each, say one pair upright at waist height and one pair horizontal at about twelve feet up? And a pair of reinforced targets against the far wall?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” Moody grunted. “And you’ll be doing what, exactly?”

By way of answer, Ken half-spun and launched a powerful jab at Ryu, who countered it with a block-and-uppercut combo. Ken leaned back to avoid it, even as Harry scurried out of range, then Ken’s left foot flashed up and round in a powerful high kick that Ryu blocked with both forearms.

Harry watched as both men moved back and forth, the direction of battle shifting and changing constantly and yet neither were really exerting themselves or truly aiming to win. Instead, they were making sure that the other had openings to demonstrate certain moves to their audience, such as their flying kicks and shoulder throws.

For almost five minutes, the only sound in the Dojo was the duo’s fight, then they broke apart at a signal which Harry had missed, huge grins on their faces as they turned to the first pair of targets.

“Hurricane kick!”

Both men leapt up into the air and their scything feet shattered the first targets into kindling, then they landed and seamlessly transitioned into their next move.

“Shoryuken!”

As Ken spun upwards, his fist was outlined in an aura of fire, but Ryu’s fist was glowing with pure Chi as the duo easily demolished the levitating targets. Both men landed almost in the same instant, then they cupped their hands by their sides and Harry felt both the natural energy of the world and the magic of Hogwarts rippling as they refined and concentrated the energy for their attacks.

“Hadouken!”

Two spheres of energy, one Chi-blue and the other fire-based, raced across the hall, shattering the final targets. Harry half-turned to see that almost everyone in the audience was staring with wide eyes and gaping mouths, even the teachers who had shown up to watch. The only exception was McGonogall, who had a triumphant smirk as she watched her fellow staff-members reactions.

“Damned impressive.” Alistair noted. “Even in my prime, I’d’ve been hard-pushed to hold my own without my wand. Or with it, come to think about it.”

Turning towards the audience, the aged Auror continued to speak. “You’ve seen them move, they can dodge most spells with ease. If they get within arms-reach, you’ve lost. If you keep the range open, they can still hit you. And before you think they’re one-offs, they know of at least a couple of dozen others who can give them an actual fight.”

Harry hid a smirk, then paused as he spotted an adult he didn’t recognise. Among the teachers was a severe-looking monacle-wearing woman in uniform-like robes who was staring at Ken and Ryu measuringly.

.

“And we’re almost done.” Ryu said, earning a series of grateful groans from most of the attendees. Harry was not one of the complainers and neither was Flitwick, who had almost bounced through the exercises and even volunteered for a quick spar against Ken. The taller adult had encountered some difficulty against a sparring partner significantly shorter than him, but Flitwick had ended up in an armlock which had caused him to gracefully concede.

“Hari!”

Knowing what was expected of him, Harry moved to the middle of the room and bowed to Ryu while Ken chivvied the others to the sides of the room before raising one hand.

“Hajime!”

At the command, Harry darted forwards to open the spar with a snake-strike that he had learned from Fei Long. Ryu blocked it with ease, but Harry had intended to use it to get into place for a move he had learned from Guile (who had been impressed that he had managed to learn it).

Ryu’s jolted his head back in a reflexive dodge as Harry unleashed a back-flip kick, then the younger boy was forced onto the defensive as Ryu unleased a sequence of punches, jabs and uppercuts just slow enough that Harry had to work at blocking or avoiding them. After a few strikes, Harry managed to find the rhythm that Ryu was using and began countering with palm-strikes that deflected the punches and caused Ryu to break off lest be be forced to leave an opening for a counter-attack.

With a break in the need to defend, Harry took half a step forwards, then his left leg rose in a blurring sequence of kicks that Ryu blocked with his forearms. Harry wasn’t finished and as Ryu gathered himself for a counter-attack, Harry dove into a handstand and started to spin, hearing Ken laugh delightedly as he did so.

A somersault took him out of the inverted spinning kick and back onto his feet, just in time for a leg-sweep by Ryu to topple him. Reflex took over and he turned the fall into a roll, then a spin as he rose to his feet and launched a rising dragon kick, his fire-covered foot rising to above his head as Ryu, caught by surprise, briefly staggered backwards before using a double-palm strike that caught Harry mid-air and flung him backwards.

Once again, Harry managed to turn the fall into a roll, this time backwards rather than sideways, and instead of trying to come into a stance, he leapt backwards with a flying snap-kick to make Ryu stop his advance, however briefly, and buy him a second or two to regain his balance. His move worked and he leapt into the air, this time with his foot scything round in the First Great Move of Ansatsuken.

Ken cheered in the background, but Harry didn’t pay any attention to him as his own was taken up by the hand that had grabbed his ankle and hurled him across the Dojo. This time, he was unable to control his tumble and as he slid to a stop, a fist suddenly filled his vision.

“Well fought.” Ryu offered as he retracted his fist and offered Harry a hand in getting up. “I hadn’t realized that you’d been working on actually incorporating Chun-Li’s spinning kick into your style. That really came as a surprise… Ken, stop looking smug!”

“Who do you think he tested the complete version on?” Ken shot back, causing Ryu to look thoughtful for a moment, before he gave a slightly rueful nod.

“Explains a lot.”

“Potter!” Moody called out. “Got someone who needs to talk to you after. Masters, Ryu, you may as well stay for the discussion as well. He is your apprentice, after all!”

.

Having showered, dried and changed into his robes (ignoring the teasing comments about wearing a dress that a chuckling Ken good-naturedly fired at him), Harry followed Moody down a corridor to the room where Ryu, Dumbledore and the monacled woman was waiting.

“Good evening, Mister Potter.” The woman gave him a nod of welcome as he sat down next to Ryu, Ken positioning himself protectively on his other side. Moody just stumped into the corner behind the woman and leaned against the corner. “My name is Amelia Bones…”

“Susan Bones’ Aunt?” Harry asked, earning a surprised nod. “She mentioned you, ma’am.”

Madam Bones smiled briefly, then her face darkened. “Mister Potter, apparently you told multiple people that You-Know-Who was still alive…”

“He is and he is not.” A familiar voice spoke and Harry craned his head back to see that Dhalsim had apparently materialised behind him, although something told him that once again the Yoga Master was not actually physically there. “His soul is still anchored to this plane. Once it is no longer anchored, the damage that he has done to himself will cause his soul to disintegrate into nothingness and he will never return.”

“How many anchors does he have?” Bones demanded, having recovered remarkably quickly and Dhalsim shrugged.

“At least one more but what it may be, I do not know. To detect them, I must be physically close and as these three already know, I am not actually here now. I can tell you that the one which had lodged in young Harry’s scar has been dealt with, I removed and destroyed it myself.”

Dumbledore seemed to sag with relief, something that caused Harry to frown in curiosity.

“And the other or others?”

“I suspect that Tom turned several items into his… anchors.” Albus interjected, giving Dhalsim a long look. “I have suspicions that Hufflepuff’s Cup is one… if we do find it, may I bring it to you for cleansing?”

“These three know where I reside, they have my permission to tell you… and only you. You do not have permission to tell others, though.”

“Fidelius?”

“Similar, yet different.”

“Fascinating.”

“Your teachers thought much the same when they learned at my feet during their youth.”

Dumbledore blinked several times, then his eyes widened in shocked realization.

“Indeed.” Laughter danced in Dhalsim’s otherwise deadpan one-word comment.

“Is this something I should know about?” Bones interjected.

“It is probably not relevant to our current discussion, my dear.” Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. “It does, however, explain several things that have puzzled me over the decades.”

Bones nodded, then turned to fix Dumbledore with a glare. “You called him Tom. Who is he?”

“When he attended these halls of learning, he carried the name of Tom Marvolo Riddle.” Albus finally admitted and Madam Bones’s glare intensified.

“That knowledge could have proven vital during the last war!”

“And I would have told your predecessor all of this without hesitation had he accepted my offer of help.” Dumbledore sighed. “Indeed, I tried but he was insistent, however, that my place was in Hogwarts and not doing anything that might interfere in Ministry actions.”

Bones slowly nodded. “Fine. Alistair, I’ll need a full report about… about Riddle. Find out all you can about him. I’m sure Dumbledore will help.”

“Gladly, my dear.”

“…he didn’t ask?” Bones repeated Dumbledore’s earlier comment with a shake of her head and Dumbledore gave a sad smile.

“The primary duty of any teacher is to teach their students to be unafraid to ask questions. Sadly, it is a lesson that only a very few actually manage to learn and of those, most forget it soon after leaving.”

Dhalsim nodded in agreement. “I have spoken all I need to and so I shall leave. There will come a time when I will need to physically walk these halls, however.”

“And you will be more than welcome, GrandMaster.” Dumbledore replied as Dhalsim faded away.

.

Professor Snape looked round the Slytherin Common Room and the students gathered within its walls. The vast majority of his House were there and he mentally noted which ones had decided that they had more important things to do with their time.

Most of them would feel his displeasure if they did not indeed have tasks which could not wait.

To one side, Draco Malfoy sat in one of the overstuffed armchairs, his underlings stood behind and to either side, an obvious power play which Snape knew depended greatly on Lucius Malfoy’s subtle yet firm control over much of the political landscape of Wizarding Britain.

“Most of you have undoubtably heard of the display this afternoon from the few who actually attended.” He began. “I was there, I witnessed it and the rumours are true, there are indeed Muggles who have managed to find ways to duplicate some of what we can do. The two who are currently the guardians of Mister Potter are among their number and are very powerful combatants. Stand in their way at your own peril.”

Many of the Pure-Blood Slytherins looked disquieted or disbelieving at his comment and Snape gave an internal shrug. He had warned them, but if they chose to ignore his warning, then they would either learn the hard way or prove themselves to be unworthy of being considered true Slytherins.

“Before you try to act against anyone who has chosen to learn from BattleMaster Moody and Potters’ Guardians, stop and consider what they may do if you are found out. Very few have crossed Auror Emeritus Moody and lived. None of those who did were known to be less than high-experts in magical combat which none of you are.
“Observe, research and contemplate before taking even the smallest piece of action and always remember to consider what will happen if any part of your scheme fails.
“That is all. From now on, each of you bears full responsibility for your own actions with regard to Potter and those connected to him.
“You have been warned.”

As he turned to leave, Snape noted that most of those who had been sneering were now looking thoughtful, a change of outlook which was a hopeful sign.

Draco was still sneering, which was not.

.

The floor seemed to shake as Hagrid was slammed down onto it. The half-giant lay motionless for a moment, then laughed in amazement.

“Neva thought I’d meet somma who could do that to me.” He chuckled as he slowly levered himself up onto one knee, rubbing his lower back as he did so. “Gonna haf’ta start payin’ more ‘tention to how fightin’s done. Wha’ was that?”

“Hip wheel variation.” Ryu explained, looking up at the man who was taller than him even when kneeling. “I mean no offense, but you’re a little too big for a shoulder throw.”

“Aye, prob’ly flatten yeh if yeh tried.” Hagrid chuckled. “Bein’ big’n’strong tends ta let me come out on top.”

“Honda would take one look at you and try to claim you as his apprentice.” Ryu noted as Hagrid rose to his feet once more, standing over ten foot tall. “In fact… you sometimes have trouble with enemies ducking under your grip, yes?”

“…aye?”

“Let’s think Sumo for a moment.” Ryu half-crouched, his feet spread wide for balance. “Look how I’m standing. Low center of gravity, ready to dodge or run…”

Hagrid looked thoughtfully at the white-clad man, then took a similar pose.

“Now, to block, you move your arms like this.” Ryu began walking Hagrid through the basics while from one side, Moody stared at them.

“I thought Hagrid was scary before, but actually teaching him how to fight?” he rasped. “Just when I was getting used to my nightmares.”

Ken burst out laughing at the elderly wizard’s comment, earning an amused glower in return.

Chapter Text

Harry paused on his return to the castle after his first Broomstick lesson, his head tilted in confusion at the sight before him. The rough ground between the Greenhouses and Hagrid’s hut had been smoothed out and a large pagoda erected, one supported by eight pillars spaced equidistantly. Inside the pagoda was a sumo ring, one made with packed earth.

“…huh?”

A column of fire on the far side of the Pagoda deposited the Groundskeeper (clad in his usual multi-pocket overcoat, but this time worn over what looked like a Hakama) and a gold-and-red bird that promptly launched itself from his shoulder, singing tunefully as it ascended. Hagrid watched it fly off, then started to turn towards his hut, then he paused, looking at the watching students. With a grin, he ambled towards them.

“’Arry Potter, Sensei Honda sends ‘is regards.”

Harry blinked, then grinned. “You’ve met Uncle Honda?”

“Ryu came wiv me the first time, him an’ Dumbledore. Ye know dat Honda knows some Oni? Few of ‘em thinking ‘bout movin. Good in a scrap, magic-resistant… Dumbledore’s offerin’ some a temporary job to see if dey like it ‘ere, dey’re discussin’ it now.”

“Is that why…” Harry indicated the Sumo ring and Hagrid chuckled, shaking his head.

“Nah. Made dat so’s I can practice properly. Honda-Sensei taught me some o’ the moves. Said I had potential.”

“You’ve certainly got the size and muscles for it.” Harry allowed.

“Aye, but not the learnin’ yet, not by a long way.” Hagrid chuckled. “Got flattened by one half me size. Been studyin’ fer years, though, an’ e’ tol’ me what I was doin’ wrong. Well, gotta go change, don’ wanna get this dirty.”

As Hagrid ambled off, whistling something that could charitably have been called a tune, Harry heard Seamus Finnegan muttering.

“Someone was throwing him around?”

.

Albus watched as his visitor leafed through the hand-written folder that he had handed her, a folder filled with that which he knew, that which he suspected and that which he feared. After almost quarter of an hour of silent reading, Amelia Bones closed the folder and shook her head in a mix of emotions, primarily annoyance.

“To think that we could have stopped him from doing all those things had that bloody idiot actually bothered to listen to you.” She growled. “My brother and sister-in-law would still be alive… we could have prevented the Diagon Alley Massacre!”

Albus nodded, his face briefly shadowed by the memories of the dead and dying innocents whose only crime (in the eyes of those who had struck them down) had been to have not been born to those who also had magic.

The Auror who had helped set up that terrible event had subsequently died resisting arrest and his name erased from the Auror List. Albus Dumbledore had personally located the man’s education transcripts and ceremoniously burned them in front of witnesses, thus removing the records of his time at Hogwarts. The burning of the records had been the last step of a ritual that had been used only twice before and which removed all references to the targeted one from Hogwarts’ files.

Even the traitor’s name had been sealed away by a Fidelius, one secured by the younger brother of one of the victims, so that no-one could whisper about him, casting him as a Martyr or a hero. Dumbledore had cast the spell himself.

“These anchors of his.” Amelia’s voice pulled him back out of his memories. “Please tell me that the way of creating them is not easy to find?”

“I know of only one text which describes the process and it is located in the Headmaster’s Private Library, under a special spell that prevents it being read by anyone who approves of the existence of that vile ritual. Even before I became a teacher, I have made a point of personally hunting down and personally destroying all the other texts on it that I have been aware of. The only reason that I have allowed that particular text to continue to exist is the hope that someone, someday, will use it to find a way that negates all the advantages of creating those terrible things. There may be more out there but given how hard I have searched, there cannot be many.”

“Good.” Amelia’s voice was firm, but determination filled every syllable. “Dhalsim said he could… break those anchors?”

“The Flamels studied under him for a decade.” Albus noted. “If he says that he can, then he can indeed. I look forwards to meeting him when he finally steps foot in Hogwarts.”

“So… Potter’s scar was one.” Amelia mused. “Hufflepuff’s cup is possibly another. Where would he put it?”

“Either with a follower or in a place important to him.” Albus frowned in thought. “Given his history, we can rule out Borgin And Burke’s almost at once. Too much chance of it being sold. The orphanage he grew up in is one place to check. The manor his father lived and died in, as well as the place his mother was raised.”

“Hogwarts and Gringott’s.” Amelia added. “The place he learned magic and the most secure place outside it in the United Kingdom.”

“There was a cave which was mentioned as well.” Albus sighed. “I believe that I have narrowed down the possible locations of that, based on some reports I saw when I went back to check the orphanage’s records on him… sadly, I did not think to scan for dark magic at the time, I was too focused on getting the information without being discovered.”

“I’ll send a trusted Auror or two out with orders to scan the various places and return, but not try to enter.” Amelia decided. “Merlin knows what traps that murdering bastard set up… why are you smiling?”

“Because, for the first time in over a decade, I can finally see a brighter future for us all.”

.

.

The library was a far better place than the Gryffindor Common Room, in Harry’s opinion, do do one’s homework. The veritable acres of shelved books somehow spoke to him of knowledge waiting to be rediscovered and he had already noted where the Ravenclaw students congregated on the occassions that he needed help with his work.

Now if only the teachers would let him use a proper pen rather than the eternally-damned quill he had to keep dipping into the inkwell…

“Excuse me, but is that the Principle Principles of Planting Persnickety Perennials?”

Harry peered at the cover of the book he was referring to for his essay, then nodded, glancing up.

“Yep, I’m almost done with it… I remember you, Hermione Granger, right?”

The bushy-haired girl nodded. “And you’re Harry Potter.”

“Guilty as charged.” Harry grinned, then he finished writing the sentence he was working on before closing the book and handing it to her. “Here, I found the fifth chapter to be the most useful, but the third and seventh both have a few useful bits.”

“Thank you.” Hermione smiled back at him, before scurrying off to where Padma and several others were sitting. Harry returned the sheet to the folder he was using for his Herbology work, then he leaned back and stretched before switching the Herbology folder for Charms and pulling out the half-completed essay he had been working on earlier.

.

.

Harry slammed onto the mat and stared up at the person who had just knocked him off his feet. Dropping the shield-pad he had been holding, Harry flipped himself back up to his feet and grinned at the boy who had delivered the punch.

“That was awesome!” he congratulated him and Neville, who had been opening his mouth to apologise, paused in confusion.

“…what?”

“You managed to use your magic to boost your punch.” Harry continued as he picked up the pad again and braced it with his shoulder and knee. “I felt the impact, but it also pushed me away from you in the direction you were punching. Come on, see if you can do it again!”

Neville paused, looking in shock at his fist, then at Harry. “But… I could hurt you…”

“Have you seen who trained me?” Harry nodded over at Ryu, who was demonstrating to a trio of students the proper way to deliver a snap-kick. “Besides, I learned from Dhalsim-Shifu how to heal fast. An hour or two of meditation and I won’t even have any bruises. Now, try again and see if you can repeat it.”

Neville nodded slowly and carefully formed a fist, then he dropped into the stance he had used before. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, then his fist slammed into the thick padding, rocking Harry backwards.

“Not bad, you’ve still got the magic boost, just not as much this time.” Harry noted, then he waved his hand before Neville could speak. “Not your fault, you come up with a new trick, it takes a while to get it to a useable state. Same as learning a new skill, except that you’re teaching yourself. We can try again when you’re ready, but rushing it won’t help. Just think about how it felt and see if you can make it feel the same way again.”

Neville nodded and stood still, his eyes closed. Harry raised the pad up again, bracing it, then Neville moved and Harry was sent hurtling towards the wall, only to be fielded and put back onto his feet by an amused Ken.

“Let me try being target.” Ken chuckled as he relieved Harry of the pad and moved to face Neville, whose expression was a curious mix of apology and pride. “Okay, I think I know what you did, so try again when you’re ready.”

Harry watched intently, stretching out with all his senses as Ken braced himself, his Chi seeming to anchor itself into the very structure of the world, then Neville struck once more. This time, Ken barely rocked back and the magic seemed to splash outwards in an expanding ring.

“Nice one.” Ken nodded. “Using your magical ability as a Chi replacement… explains why magic-users are meant to be more damage-resistant if your natural magic reinforces your body. I’d advise you to learn how to do it at will rather than reflexively… it’ll really enhance your strength and probably your stamina too.”

“How did it not send you flying?” Neville asked before he could stop himself and Ken laughed.

“I just treated it like a Chi-enhanced strike and pulsed my own Chi to counter it.”

“That’s awesome!” Harry breathed before he could stop himself and Ken grinned.

“It came as quite a surprise to Flitwick-Sensei that a Chi-enhanced strike can actually deflect a spell. He compared it to to a Duellist’s Parry, but without the need of a wand. I think he’s currently working on a pure-magic version himself.”

“Being able to simply slap spells away would terrify those who didn’t know how you were doing it.” Harry mused. “I gotta learn how to do that.”

“Your Chi reinforces your magic and vice-versa.” Ken noted, then caught Harry’s confused expression. “Dhalsim mentioned it when Ryu noted that your Chi felt weaker than he expected for how you were able to use it.”

“…huh.”

.

.

The pounce came out of nowhere and Harry found himself sprawling as McGonogall stood over him, her smirk evident even though they were both in their feline forms. Harry rolled over and pulled himself to his paws again, then paused as he noted that McGonogall seemed to have vanished once again.

Slowly turning, Harry let his gaze play over Hagrid’s garden, ignoring how the huge gardener was watching him while holding a conversation with two beings who were huge compared to humans but whom Hagrid was still larger than. Instead, he searched for any sign of where McGonogall-Sensei had vani…

Another pounce caught him from his rear-left and Harry spun round, managing to catch a glimpse of McGonogall’s tail vanishing into a bush. Gathering himself, he leapt through the screen of leaves, only for her to land on his back and place her teeth against the back of his neck before she dropped off him and strutted out onto the grass where she reverted to her human form. Harry followed suit and McGonogall started speaking.

“Your sense of how to move has improved quite a bit. Spend more time in tiger-form and you’ll soon be as natural in that shape as you are as a human. I’d recommend sleeping as a tiger. Speaking from experience, the beds seem more comfortable and a great deal larger when you are using your otherform.”

Harry grinned. “Sounds like fun, but… is sleepchanging a thing?”

McGonogall shook her head. “Shifting forms requires an active, conscious decision. Shifting while asleep is impossible. Shifting while half-awake is possible, but the mere act of changing form will wake you up fully.”

“Sounds like a way to avoid needing coffee.” Harry joked, then he caught McGonogall’s expression. “Wait, really?”

“I have used it that way a time or two, yes.” McGonogall admitted. “It does, however, tend to leave me a little… grouchy… for a few hours after. Use it only in an emergency situation when you need to be ready to act and be aware of the after-effects.”

“Understood, McGonogall-Sensei.”

McGonogall raised one eyebrow at his formality, but chose not to comment on it. Instead, she seemed to twist and Harry found himself looking down at her feline gaze, then she darted off into the undergrowth. One laugh later and Harry was also on all four paws and dodging underneath the branches, seeking to find and pounce her at least once in order to pass the test she had set.

A sudden impact that sent him rolling through a curtain of vines informed him that he probably had further to go to achieve adequate control than he had previously thought.

.

.

The room was dark, a single figure silhouetted against the stars shining in through the window.

“Master… the new arrivals will make things more dangerous.”

“Indeed. And those beings that Hagrid has befriended will also prove problematic.”

The figure paused, its head tilted in confusion. “You were referring to the muggles as the greater threat, my lord? They have no magic… they’re…Muggles.”

“And yet they hold power within them, power which I heard only rumours of. They have found a way to use the power of their own souls to enhance themselves. If any can find a way to counter my enhancement rituals, the way which I have transcended mortality, it would be they.”

“Should I deal with them, my lord?”

“You would not be able to. They have powers I have yet to learn, abilities I have yet to find counters to. No, caution is advisable with them but at least they are only here a few times a week and thus easily avoided.”

“Yes, Master.”

“However, with it being more difficult to get what we need from the forest, we will need to move earlier than planned. The plan will go ahead, but the distraction must be greater.”

“What is your command, my master?”

“I have given you the knowledge to open the wards for as long as needed, so you must first of all…”

The sibilant voice continued giving its commands as the night deepened.

Chapter Text

When Harry descended from his dormatory to the main Gryffindor Common Room, it was to find an excited knot of students gathered around a gold-framed notice that had appeared on the wall just next to the archway that led out into the rest of Hogwarts. After several moments of trying to find a position that he could read it from and failing due to the crowd, Harry shrugged and moved to the corner of the room where Percy Weasley was writing something on parchment.

“Excuse me?” Harry interjected as Percy dipped his quill into his inkpot. The older student paused, then looked up at him.

“Yes, Mister Potter?”

“I couldn’t get into a position to read the notice over there and since you are a Prefect, I was hoping you could tell me what it says.”

Percy blinked a couple of times, then rose from his chair and made his way over to the crowd. Managing to slide through, he scanned the notice, then pulled out his wand and fired a charm into the air that caused a gong-like ringing sound.

“Your attention please!” He called out. “For those who have not been able to read this notice, due to today being All-Hallows Eve, all lessons after the first afternoon session are on hold and all students are to be aware that the evening Great Feast is being served at half-past four instead of at five.”

Harry blinked at the announcement, then he hid a sigh of annoyance as several people started babbling about how they were going to celebrate “The death of You-Know-Who”.

None of them seemed to remember that said death was the result of his parents sacrifices.

Turning away, Harry made his way to the entrance arch. He needed to see McGonogall.

.

“I… hadn’t thought about that.” McGonogall admitted ruefully. “Yes, given your history, I can certainly see why you would prefer not to celebrate Halloween. Very well, you have permission to attend or avoid the feast as you see fit. Do you have any plans as to what you are going to do if you do not attend?”

Harry shrugged. “I was hoping to explore the grounds in my tiger form.”

“Well, make sure that you do not enter the Forbidden Forest.” McGonogall said firmly.

“Yes, Sensei!”

“Still getting used to that.” She mumbled to herself before continuing in her normal voice. “In the meantime, get some breakfast and at lunch, I’ll show you where the kitchens are so that you can have a meal prepared for when you want it.”

“Thank you.”

“Polite, just like your mother was.” McGonogall smiled in memory.

.

The constant background conversations during the day had quickly convinced Harry that his idea of avoiding the feast was probably for the best. The decision had been confirmed by him overhearing a brief snatch of conversation between a group of NEWT-level students discussing whether or not to publically call for him to make a speech about how he had defeated Riddle and how proud he was of having done so.

In order to avoid being gathered up for the feast by the Prefects, Harry shifted into his tiger-cub form and scurried through the tunnels used by other cats, tunnels that McGonogall had pointed out to him during training. Unlike the passageways and hallways used by the students, the pet tunnels actually mapped better to the outside of Hogwarts, meaning that they also made for very good shortcuts on occasion. Now, Harry followed the tunnels down to the ground floor and emerged near the one of the smaller doors flanking the main entrance. Reverting to his human form just long enough to step through and close the door behind him, Harry shivered in the cold breeze before dropping to all four paws once more.

As a tiger, his fur acted like a fairly effective coat and Harry almost reflexively started to channel his Chi to fend off the last bits of cold. Strange and new scents hung in the air and Harry trotted off to explore, his eyes darting round as he tried to take in the sights from this new, lower perspective.

Movement caught his eye and he paused, watching as a Centaur stepped out from the Forbidden Forest. While armed, the centaur’s bow was in a sheath on its back and the arrows for it were in a quiver hanging along his flank. As the Centaur turned, Harry saw a longsword slung along his left flank.

The Centaur’s gaze settled on him and the being slowly paced forwards.

“Greetings on this eve of souls, Child of the flower.”

Harry tilted his head in confusion, then rose to stand on his feet.

“Good afternoon.” He replied with a shallow bow. “I apologise in advance for any offense I may accidentally cause…”

“You are young and have yet to learn.” The centaur interrupted with a small smile. “So long as you intend no offense, I shall not take any.”

“Thank you.” Harry paused, then decided to simply ask. “Am I mistaken, or were you actually searching for me?”

“The stars told me of this day.” The centaur stated calmly. “When the time comes, call for the bird of fire. It will aid you.”

The centaur bowed his head, then vanished into the forest and Harry stared after him for a moment, then a loud crashing in the distance caught his attention.

“What the heck is that?”

.

The feast had been going well, in Dumbledore’s opinion, although he wondered why Fawkes had suddenly vanished in a swirl of fire just as the starting course concluded. As the main course came to a close and Dumbledore prepared to deliver his planned speech, the main doors suddenly slammed open and Quirrel staggered in, looking somewhat the worse for wear, his robes ripped and a bruise forming on his cheek.

“Headmaster! Trolls! An entire clan of them! They came in through the forest and they’ve started breaking down the main door!”

Albus blinked, then Moody’s voice snapped out. “Everyone stay in the Hall! Prefects, get counts done and find out who’s missing! All staff who can handle trolls with me, all other teachers stay here and reinforce the walls and doors in case they get past us! Quirrel…”

The teacher held up an obviously-broken wand and Moody growled. “Stay here and do what you can!”

“I can still run faster than those things.” Quirrel panted, his normal stutter in abeyance. “I’ll scout the school and report on any I find.”

Before Moody could reply, Quirrel had sprinted out of the door.

“Mister Potter’s still out there somewhere!” McGonogall gasped as she joined the rush towards the door. “Weasley, check everyone other than Potter is here!”

“Yes, Professor!”

A brief instant of concentration had McGonogall dashing forwards on all four paws, leaving the other teachers in her wake as she headed towards the sudden distant explosion of shouts, roars and impact noises. The shattered door loomed up ahead of her and she reverted to her human form, coming to a stop with her back against the wall before peering around the doorframe.

“…what the…”

Moving for a better view, Minerva stared at the sight of a half-dozen people, three of whom she instantly recognised, holding back almost a dozen trolls. Another four of the beasts were lying motionless on the ground and as she watched, a bulky man with designs painted on his face launched himself in a physics-defying move that had him headbutt his target in the stomach, folding the troll in half and sending it flying backwards. Another troll was sent somersaulting backwards by a burly blond sunglasses-wearing man who had delivered a powerful kick as part of a backwards somersault, then he spread his arms wide.

“Sonic boom!”

A spinning disc of energy raced across the battlefield and launched another troll backwards, straight into the Whomping Willow which took great offense to the intrusion of the ballistic monster.

A blue-clad woman skidded to a halt in front of one of the smaller trolls, then her right leg seemed to blur. The troll jolted and jerked as impact craters flicked into existence across its torso, then she leapt into the air and delivered a descending kick that laid the monster out cold.

McGonogall’s eyes widened further as she saw a man wearing only loose trousers and slippers launch himself in a spiralling kick, his leg coated up to the thigh in flames that blasted his adversary backwards.

“Honda-Sensei?” Hagrid rumbled in surprise from behind her, then the already-chaotic battlefield was joined by the two Oni charging up from their newly-built hut, metal clubs in their hands as they gleefully slammed into the intruding trolls from the side. “’scuse me.”

Hagrid managed to gently push past the disbelieving Deputy Headmistress, then he sprinted forwards to clothesline one of the trolls who hadn’t seen him coming. As the taller being slammed into the ground, Hagrid continued his charge, shoulder slamming into the chest of another troll and lifting it off its feet before slamming it into the ground.

“I feel almost unneeded.” Moody grumbled as he watched the humans, Oni and half-giant taking down the trolls. “Probably a good thing, Trolls are notoriously resistant to most of the spells in my arsenal and the ones that do work on them tend to be… messy.”

Minerva nodded slowly, unable to speak as her gaze followed Harry Potter delivering kicks to the back of a Troll’s legs, forcing it to its knees, then leaping up into the air to deliver a roundhouse kick that laid it out on the ground. The sound of the falling body semed to end the fight and the people who had defeated them started exchanging hand-clasps, fist-bumps and the occassional hair-ruffle, Harry receiving the majority of the last.

“How… unexpected.” Dumbledore mused as he walked past the shocked teachers. “Hagrid, you may wish to introduce Honda-sama to the other professors.”

“Yup.” Hagrid bowed deeply to the one who had headbutted a troll. “Everyone, this is Sensei Edmund Honda, or Sensei Honda as he prefers to be known as.”

“And for the few of us who have not encountered them yet, these two are Ken Masters and Ryu.” Dumbledore noted after inclining his head in greeting to the largest of the new visitors. “Thank you for intervening, this situation could have been… difficult.”

“It was fun!” Ken laughed, then he leaned forwards. “I checked and the others were all in the know about magic before they agreed to help out.”

“My cousin attends Mahoutokoro.” The woman interjected as she released Harry from a hug.

“One of my assistants is a Wizard.” The muscular, topless man noted. “I am currently in negotiations with the parents of two of your students about releasing my films for the Magical world.”

“USAF, we have a group of wizards who function as a covert insertion/sabotage unit.” The sunglasses-wearer finished, pulling a comb out of his pocket and using it to neaten his rather unusual vertical hairstyle. “Worked with them several times after they learned that I knew young Potter here.”

“Headmaster, McGonogall-Sensei, may I present Detective Chun-Li, Fei-Long and Captain Guile.” Harry piped up.

“Honored to meet you all.” McGonogall managed to reply. “May I ask how you all know young Mister Potter?”

“We’ve all taught him.” Chun-Li ruffled Harry’s hair, earning an “oi!” from him. “Learned from him, too.”

A series of distant pops caused Hagrid to amble off, rummaging in his pockets, one of the two Oni following him as they exchanged comments about the fight. As he left, Dumbledore cleared his throat to attract their attention.

“Well, while we wait for the aftermath of the situation to be resolved, may I offer you some refreshments? And maybe some stories about how you all know young Harry?”

.

“…so there I was, totally covered in mud, grass in my hair and missing a shoe, then Harry bounces up, just as messy, and chirps That was awesome, can we do it again?” Fei Long finished with an almost-perfect imitation of Harry-as-a-young-child, causing the real Harry to lower his face into his hands as the memory returned from where he had banished it years prior.

The round of laughter from those sat at the table didn’t help one bit, in his opinion.

“That’s even better than the thing at the Ramen stand.” Ryu chuckled.

“That one was totally not my fault!” Harry protested.

“The Ramen Stand?” Chun-Li asked curiously and Ryu grinned.

“Now, you must remember that we were in Chinatown at the time and it was Halloween, so there were a lot of people wearing fancy dress…”

As Ryu set the scene, Harry glanced up at McGonogall, who was doing a fairly good job of suppressing the signs that she was amused, although her eyes were sparkling with restrained mirth. Albus Dumbledore was less restrained and his shoulders were shaking with laughter as he listened eagerly to the unfolding tale.

A glance in the corner showed that even Fawkes was highly amused.

“…and as the cart finished flipping over and disgorging its contents over half the crowd, Harry tried to explain what had happened with a cry of It was the aliens!” Ryu finished, causing another huge wave of laughter.

“That… must have been a truly spectacular incident…” Albus wheezed.

.

As the door closed behind Harry (who was heading back to the Gryffindor Tower), Albus looked around, his previous amusement vanishing into a far more serious mood.

“Does anyone not know the basics of the story behind how young Harry was orphaned?” He asked and Ryu spoke up.

“I took the liberty of updating them all on the situation once Harry started here. Figured we may need their help and it would be a waste of time to try and give them the whole backstory while gearing up to fight Riddle’s minions.”

“Then…” Albus reached into a pocket and produced a ring which he placed on the table. “This was one of his anchors. We are fortunate indeed that Dhalsim agreed in advance to aid us, the Auror in charge of the mission that located this ring almost lost his arm and probably would have died, had Dhalsim not been able to peel off the curse. As it is, it will take several months before he can return to duty.”

“Does he have more of these anchors?” Guile asked as he leaned in closer to examine the ring and the black stone set onto it.

“At least one more.” Albus sighed. “Even as we speak, Amelia is interrogating the one who betrayed the Potters to see if he has any useful information. It took a while to get him healthy enough to withstand the effects of Veritaserum, but with any luck, he will know where the next anchor is.”

“And hopefully it will be the last of the anchors.” Chun-Li added.

“That is my hope as well.” Albus agreed soberly as Honda examined the ring. “To think that Riddle would pervert items of such importance to the Wizarding world…”

“Importance?” Ken asked as he took the ring, turning it in his hands. “You know, Ryu, I swear that I’ve seen some of these markings before, back when we were studying under Gouken-Sensei… what the blazes?!”

Everyone stared at Ken, who had jumped to his feet, the chair bouncing off the wall behind him. “Sensei?”

“What are you talking…” Ryu started, only to stop as Ken made a quick hand-sign at him.

“Sensei… Ryu and I managed to defeat your brother… You saw our fight against Bison? What? How is he… oh, that’s not good. Yes, Sensei. Alright, I understand. Thank you.”

Ken blinked, then placed the ring on the table. Turning, he retrieved his chair and sat in it.

“That ring is more than just a ring…”

“The Resurrection Stone.” Albus supplied.

“The name’s wrong.” Ken shook his head. “It doesn’t resurrect people, just summons their spirit, although it causes them pain after only a moment or so. Ryu, Sensei said that Bison’s still alive.”

“What?” Ryu shook his head. “How? We hit him with merged Hadoukens and blasted him into that plane of his which exploded!”

“You remember his teleportation trick when we fought him?” Ken asked and Ryu nodded. “That’s how. Apparently he managed to escape as the plane exploded, but he was severely injured and drained his power to get away. It’ll probably be several years yet before he’s ready to return.”

“That’s not good.” Honda rumbled. “Guile?”

“I’ll pass the word to my superiors that Bison’s not as dead as we thought.” The airman sighed. “Dammit!”

“I’ll pass word to Interpol.” Chun-Li added.

“Who is this Bison?” Albus asked curiously.

“Leader of Shadowlaw.” Chun-Li sighed. “Strong, very strong. Tends to dress in a red uniform, dark hair and white eyes that glow purple when he’s using his abilities.”

“Ah yes. I believe that I encountered him once a decade or so ago, but I did not catch his name.” Albus nodded, earning shocked looks from everyone else. “He was not prepared for someone being able to Apparate as fast as he could… and even less prepared for the transfigured animals I used to persuade him to leave.”

Ken and Ryu exchanged shocked looks.

“You managed to defeat Bison?”

Chapter Text

Harry slipped easily through the stream of students leaving the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, leaving the stuttering, now-limping Quirrel behind. Making his way down the stairs, he adjusted the low-profile bigger-on-the-inside messenger-style bag that Ken had given him to sit across his back rather than by his side, then he stepped into the Great Hall and a shout.

“Potter!”

Harry blinked as Draco Malfoy stormed across from the Slytherin table, a piece of paper held in one hand. “You did this, you thief!”

Harry blinked again. “What are you talking about?”

“I was the heir to the Black Lordship! Dad told me that as soon as Lord Black died in Azkaban, I would be the one to inherit! And you stole that from me!”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Harry admitted.

“Then as Heir-claimant by blood, I challenge you to a duel for the position of Heir!”

“You need to accept!” Ron Weasley noted urgently from behind Harry, having approached during Draco’s ranting. “It’s one of the Old Laws, Malfoy’s mother is Sirius Black’s cousin, so he’s got a better blood-claim than you. If you don’t accept his challenge, you’ll lose your position as Heir permanently!”

“Stay out of this, blood-traitor!” Draco hissed.

“Challenge accepted.” Harry shrugged. “Ron, what does this entail?”

“As the challenged, you get to choose the time, place and rules of the duel.” Ron half-whispered. “Most duels are done using the Arcane rules, spells only. Some insist on wanded-spells.”

“And is there a wands as only weapon but anything goes in the duel option? Such as punches and kicks?”

Ron frowned. “I think that’s the Alphonso Protocol.”

“Is he right?” Harry asked Draco, who nodded in confusion. “Then Saturday morning at ten, here in the Great Hall and the Alphonso Protocol. Unless, of course, you want to back off?”

“I’ll never give in to you, thief.” Draco growled. “I’ll crush you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and Ron sighed. “I’ll tell McGonogall.”

“No need.” Flitwick said, having approached from behind Draco. “I heard. You’ll need a referee and I’m a former world duelling champion. The Alphonso Protocol… yes. The Great Hall will be prepared by Saturday. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to send the required notifications.”

.

Severus glared as Draco stalked into his office in response to his summons.

“You wanted to speak to me, sir?” Draco asked and Severus motioned for the boy to be seated, then steepled his fingers and stared at him until Draco started to shift nervously.

“Flitwick has informed me about the duel you challenged Potter to.” Severus noted and Draco snarled.

“If not for that blood-traitor, Potter would have refused and I would have reclaimed what is rightfully mine!”

Severus cocked a mental eyebrow at the vehemance in the boy’s tone. “Indeed. You may wish to know that your father was attempting to deal with the unexpected situation via… other means, but your challenge has taken it out of his hands. He is… less than thrilled at your decision to act without consulting him first.”

“Potter doesn’t know anything about our world.” Draco grumbled. “It would have worked!”

“But it did not and now you have a fight ahead of you.” Severus countered. “As I am your Head of House, I am not permitted to aid you until after the duel has been fought. McGonogall is under the same rules regarding your opponant.”

“He was muggle-raised.” Draco shook his head. “He relies on punches, I’ll take him down before he can get in range.”

Severus thought back to the demonstration that Potter’s guardians had given, then to the troll attack which Potter had helped to counter by taking down at least one of the beasts. “If you believe that, then all I can do is wish you luck and strongly suggest you contact your parents. They may be able to provide you with the aid that you will almost certainly need.”

“…huh?”

.

Dumbledore sighed, then looked up at his visitor.

“Shall I send Fawkes for you?”

“I shall make my own way here.” Dhalsim replied. “I look forwards to seeing Hogwarts with my physical eyes and not just my mind’s eye.”

Dhalsim faded away and Dumbledore sighed again as he looked down at the memo that had been sent to him.

“Another mistake that I have made.” He murmured to himself. “Another thing that I must atone for. How many more errors have I made that my pride has blinded me to?”

.

.

Draco looked nervous as his father entered the room, a frown on his face.

“My son… what did you think you were doing?”

“I… Potter wasn’t raised with the knowledge of the Old Laws!” Draco hurriedly explained. “He was about to decline the challenge, thus granting me victory, but that bloody weasel interfered and Potter accepted!”

Lucius Malfoy’s frown deepened. “Draco… that was your plan? To use his ignorance without considering that he might have the support of others?”

Draco nodded and Lucius sighed, turning to look out of the window.

“It would seem your mother was right, I have indeed coddled you too much if that is all you could come up with. Just a simple, childish attempt to reclaim your status… no subtlety, no fallback plans… I hope for your sake that when the duel starts at ten, you do not lose.”

“I won’t, father.” Draco stated confidently. “All he has is that ridiculous muggle fighting style of his…”

Lucius spun to glare at his son, one hand rubbing at his left hip. “Do not underestimate muggles, Draco! I did once when I was younger, seeking to dominate a mask-wearing muggle who called himself Vega, and it almost cost me my ability to sire you!”

.

“Looks like the whole school came to watch.” Ken noted as he and Ryu entered the Great Hall behind Hagrid. “I swear the hall used to be smaller than this. So, where’s our munchkin?”

“There’s Hari over there… he’s meditating.”

“He’s floating.” Ken noted as they walked past the dueling platform that had replaced the normal tables in the hall. “You don’t do that… do you?”

“Dhalsim taught him.” Ryu shrugged. “Same time as he removed Riddle’s anchor, whatever it’s called, from his scar. I’ve tried to match him, but… I think it takes quite a bit of practice. I’m not sure how Hari picked it up so fast.”

“I taught him when I removed that parasitic soul-shard.” A voice said from behind them, causing both men to spin around, reflexively dropping into combat stances before recognising the speaker.

“Atikranta- bhavaniya Dhalsim.” Ryu bowed in greeting. “I… didn’t expect to see you here.”

“My student told me about the fight that he was challenged to.” Dhalsim replied, his blank white eyes somehow indicating that he was looking over to where Harry had finished his meditation and was starting to stretch. “I decided that as it was a quiet day in the village and my skills were not needed, that I would come and observe.”

Ken glanced round, noting the sheer number of shocked expressions as people took in the tall Yoga Master’s frame as well as his usual attire of ragged shorts, leg-wraps, arm-wraps and a necklace of skulls.

“How did you get here, Dhalsim?” Ryu continued. “It is a long way from India…”

“To the enlightened mind, all places are one.”

“Explains that teleportation trick of yours.” Ken muttered despite himself, then he felt Dhalsim’s gaze on him. “I mean… if all places are one, then… then I think I’ll shut up now…”

“You have indeed made progress on the path to wisdom.” Dhalsim noted blandly as they were joined by Ryu’s foundling. “Harry, it is good to see that you have indeed grown. Your mental image in our shared meditations is indeed true.”

Ken’s eyebrows shot up and he glanced at Ryu, who was smiling.

“You knew?”

“Hari is my student and my son.” Ryu replied quietly. “He told me.”

Dhalsim finished talking to Harry and looked round, his gaze settling unerringly on Albus Dumbledore. The two men remained motionless for a moment, then Dumbledore paled.

“Here?”

Dhalsim nodded. “It should take but a moment once I find it.”

As the elderly wizard and the Yoga Master left the hall, Ken looked curiously at Harry.

“What was that about?”

“No clue.”

.

Stepping up onto the temporary duelling platform, one that was twice as wide as normal due to the primitive ruleset his adversary had selected, Draco bowed in the Wizardly style, one hand sweeping his Battle Cloak out and mentally sneered as Potter (who was clad in similar unadorned garments to the two muggles who had been talking to the now-vanished elongated barbarian) performed a far less formal bow.

“Ready…”

Draco’s hand hovered by his holster, ready to draw and cast with a single move while Harry took an unusual stance with one foot extended and both hands at shoulder height, his right hand hovering near his chin while his left was outstretched.

“Begin!”

“Stupefy! Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Tarantallegra!”

Even as the first spell sped across the length of the stage, Harry had reacted. A quick side-step caused the stunner to waste itself on the shielding at the far end of the stage while the Expelliarmus was simply slapped aside. The next stunner was aimed at where Harry had been, thus the dark-haired boy didn’t need to worry about it and the fourth spell was once again dodged.

Gritting his teeth, Draco unleashed another barrage of spells, only to see them effortlessly evaded or somehow deflected with a punch, slap or kick and then Harry spoke, his voice mocking.

“Is that all you have?”

Draco’s eyes narrowed in rage and he raised his wand again. “Big words from someone who has yet to draw their own wand.”

Harry glanced at Ryu, who gave a single nod.

“Okay then, get ready.”

Draco’s eyes weren’t the only ones to widen as Harry cupped his hands to one side even as small sparks of power and tongues of electricity arced out of nowhere to create a swirling blue ball in his grasp.

“What are you… Deflectius!”

A pale shield formed in front of Draco as Harry finally moved, taking a half-step as he thrust his hands forwards with a shout.

“Hadouken!”

The crackling energy sphere covered the distance between duelists faster than any of the spells that Draco had fired and smashed through the shield Draco was still forming. Even as the magical backlash of the shattered spell started to disorient Draco, the sphere impacted and exploded in a shower of sparks, launching Draco backwards off the stage and onto the flagstone floor, where he slid to a halt with sparks trailing from his cape and his hair standing on end.

“Nice variation.” Ryu noted, his voice cutting through the shocked silence. “Mind teaching me that? And how did you come up with it?”

“You remember when we were in the rainforest and met Blanka?” Harry asked, causing Ryu’s face to light up with understanding. “He showed me how to do that shock-thing. Took me a year to get it down but I still can’t do it anywhere nearly as well as he can.”

“MY HAIR!” Draco wailed in shock, trying not to focus on the far greater loss that he had just experienced and the repercussions thereof. “What have you done to my hair!”

The slamming of a door marked the angry departure of Draco’s father, then Flitwick spoke up with amusement flickering in his voice.

“Flawless victory!”

.

Severus entered the staff room, then paused at the sight before him. On the staff table was a circlet that somehow looked familiar while Dumbledore sat slumped in his chair, the one known as Dhalsim looking almost as drained next to him. Dumbledore’s robes boasted several scorch marks, a melting patch of ice and a number of rips while smears of blood on the Yoga Master’s arms and torso indicated that he had taken some injuries as well, although they had since been healed.

The state of the two men was secondary in importance compared to the item before them.

“Is that…?”

“Another of the anchors.” Dumbledore confirmed as Minerva entered the room. “But there is still at least one more.”

“It served as the focal point for a curse.” Dhalsim added, reaching out for the goblet of water in front of him. “One that would have been easy to unravel, if not for…”

“Quirrel is at Saint Mungo’s under Auror guard, although he is not expected to recover.” Dumbledore looked up, the normal twinkle in his eyes missing. “He was a willing host for Riddle’s soul, as we discovered when he attacked us.”

“And Riddle?”

“Abandoned his host when we managed to overpower him and escaped.” Dhalsim put the now-empty goblet down. “To do so in the way that he did, he must have two anchors remaining at the very least.”

“How many did that madman create?” McGonogall breathed in horrified shock.

“Even one is too many.” Dumbledore replied sadly, then he made a throwing-away gesture, one he habitually made when changing subjects. “Severus, how has young Draco reacted to his defeat?”

“Badly.” Snape replied. “His father has threatened to disown him and raise a new heir.”

“The elder Malfoy carries the mark of his master, does he not? To accept the Dark like that costs one greatly when it comes to creating new things. And from what I have felt from the marks…” Dhalsim reached over and caught Severus’ arm. “Interesting… whenever one carrying the mark dies, all that he or she could have been flows through the mark and to Riddle, strengthening him with the shattered soul-shards of his follower. That would explain why he was able to create so many of his anchors, his soul used the shards to partially regenerate while his followers souls were broken and scattered, never to be reborn.”

Severus paled, but Dhalsim shook his head.

“When the midwinter solstice is due, come to me. I will remove this from you and it will allow me to see how many anchors still remain to be found and purified.”

“You cannae do that wi’ the anchors themselves?” Minerva asked and Dhalsim shook his head.

“Those anchors were once part of a whole and they all share but one connection. These marks are the leash by which he held command and leashes have handles. Once I have removed it, I can use it before it fades to see how many parts still reach for it. However, for the ritual to be successful, you must truly wish for it to be gone.”

Severus Snape stared into the blank eyes of the one offering him a new chance.

“I do.”

“Then when it is time, you will come to me.” Dalsim nodded as he rose to his feet. “Dumbledore, thank you for agreeing to speak to the one who currently holds the Idol of the Dark Winds and now I must depart. Fare thee well.”

Severus felt his eyes try to unfocus briefly as the world seemed to twist in a way that he had never experienced before, then the ancient mystic was no longer there.

“Ye cannae Apparate in Hogwarts!” McGonogall exclaimed in shock.

“That was not Apparating.” Dumbledore countered.

“What?!”

.

.

The near-silence in the Great Hall was so intense that Harry felt it almost like a physical blow as he entered and made his way to his usual breakfast spot at the Gryffindor table. Almost half the teachers were missing and most of the students were intent on reading their copies of the Daily Prophet to the point that several had missed their mouths with their food and would need to get changed before the first lessons began.

Sitting down beside Ron, Harry glanced across at the headlines on the front of the paper.

Sirius Black Innocent – Miscarriage Of Justice Uncovered
Bartemius Crouch Senior Arrested

“What’s that all about?” Harry asked and Ron stared at him blankly for a moment.

“You don’t know?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t have asked.” Harry replied as he helped himself to some porridge from the self-heating tureen.

“It’s why Malfoy challenged you.” Ron pointed at the picture of a worn-looking man. “That’s Sirius Black. Everyone thought that he was the one who betrayed your parents, but it turned out to have been Peter Pettigrew who was the Secret Keeper and who betrayed them.”

Harry paused in the middle of ladling honey onto his porridge. “And this relates to me… how?”

“Black’s your magical Godfather and he designated you his heir just after you were born!” Ron flipped through the pages and then pointed at something. “Malfoy was never the Black heir, he only thought that he was.”

Harry tilted his head slightly as he thought about it, then he shrugged. “Huh. Okay.”

“Okay?” Ron repeated in shock. “This is huge!”

“Muggle-raised.” Harry shot back and Ron paused.

“Oh. Right. You wouldn’t know. Well, it’s big.”

“You can tell me about it after breakfast.”

.

“So, for years, everyone thought that Sirius Black was the one who betrayed your parents to You-know-who.” Ron said as they made their way towards Herbology. “I mean, most of the Black Family were Blood-Purists at best, more often than not blood-purifiers, seeking to have all the muggleborn killed off to prevent Wizarding culture changing. Rumour has it that they tried to get their hands on the Attendance Book of Hogwarts once, just so that they could send out missions to kill the Muggleborn.”

“The people who set up the Diagon Alley Massacre and survived being captured had their defence costs paid for by the Black family.” Lavender Brown noted from behind them in a cold voice. “My uncle died trying to protect the new students-to-be.”

“So with a family history like that, people were suspicious of him.” Ron continued. “When he was captured, he was laughing and I think everyone just thought he was showing his true colours, which was why they didn’t bother giving him a trial and just locked him up. That and they probably didn’t want to let him try and get you too.”

“That’s just…” Harry trailed off, shaking his head. “No-one checked?”

“No-one saw the need to.” Ron shook his head. “Guess that’s gonna change now.”

“I hope so…”

Chapter Text

The door closed behind the two men, the inherent magic contained within its planks blocking the rising noise from those who had gathered to witness the duel which would decide the future of the Black Heritage.

“I admit that I am concerned about the duel’s outcome.” Albus Dumbledore admitted, glancing back at the door, then up at his elongated companion.

“Be not concerned.” Dhalsim waved one hand dismissively. “The young tiger has learned how to deflect the lesser spells and I saw no sign that the one he faces has cast any spell he could not deflect.”

Albus slowed briefly, then blinked and moved to catch up. “I remember that Nicholas and Perenelle were both gifted at sensing things like that, but…”

“I have had a great many years to hone my skills.” Dhalsim noted, then he stopped, staring upwards and to one side. “Interesting… we need to head up and in that direction.”

“This way.” Albus moved towards one of the tapestries as he pulled his wand out and a tap of the stick on the sleeping lion caused the embroidered fabric to slide to one side, revealing an archway with a spiral staircase visible. “This is one of the staircases which we staff use when we need to get somewhere fast. As there are no portraits or suits of armour to report should anything negative occur, it has become tradition to only inform the staff and trusted Prefects about them.”

“It has been said that the art of Magic is knowing the one fact which your audience does not.” Dhalsim mused as he followed Albus up the stairs.

“And what do you say?” Albus gently prodded.

“Magic is change. It can be for good or evil, bright or dark, to build or destroy, but at its very core, Magic is change and Magic is life. All things that live do so through change and through the act of changing, they are and create Magic.”

“Yet Magic can be found in things like rocks.” Albus’ tone made it clear that he wasn’t contesting Dhalsim’s statement but was instead attempting to explore it further.

“Even rocks are alive.” Dhalsim replied. “Given time, a stone may grow into a mountain. Is that not change?”

Albus nodded slowly. “Yes. I have to admit, I never really thought in those scales…”

“You have had much to burden you… this floor.”

Albus paused, then backtracked three steps to follow Dhalsim out into another corridor. As the concealing tapestry swung into position behind them, he looked round.

“I have to ask… is this based on something which did happen?” Dhalsim asked and Albus turned to look at the tapestry.

“Yes, that is Barnabus the Barmy. The wizard who tried to teach trolls to dance.”

“…why?” Dhalsim’s one-word question was filled with both curiosity and horrified fascination.

“Because no-one had ever done it before, according to the few of his writings which survived.” Albus watched the woven figure of Barnabus running round in panic, attempting to dodge the clubs being swung at him by the angry trolls. “I have heard that the most common reason for doing things is that it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Despite his centuries of learning self-control and his well-trained natural reserve, Dhalsim couldn’t help but let out a snort of amusement. “I have heard similar. Usually from youths who are struggling to explain why they are returning covered in mud and bruises.”

“Wisdom is derived from the gaining of experience. Experience is accumulated through possession  of insufficient wisdom.” Albus offered and Dhalsim’s lips quirked in a small smile, then he turned away from the tapestry, frowning in concentration.

“What we seek is behind this wall, yet not behind it at the same time. Was there not a similar room like this in the Temple which I serve, I would not be able to proceed further. As it is…”

Albus watched as the Yoga Master placed his hand flat against the wall, his fingers spread wide, then his eyes widened as he felt something on the very edge of his senses.

“A… door?” He asked quietly and Dhalsim nodded.

“A door. One with a very specific method of opening.”

Albus started pacing back and forwards, muttering to himself. “The Horcrux is behind the door, in a secret room. To take another step in removing the threat Tom poses, we need access to that room. How can we open the door? We need to get in so that whatever he has placed in there can be dealt with…”

“I do believe that we now have access.” Dhalsim interrupted and Albus spun round, finding himself staring at an ornate wooden door that had seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“You did it! How?”

“It was not I who opened it, although witnessing it open allowed me to determine how it was achieved.” Dhalsim demurred as he pushed the door open, revealing a cavernous room beyond, one filled with mounds and piles of various pieces of furniture and other items. “This door relies on a person moving past it three times with a specific thought about what they wish for.”

Albus blinked several times, then followed Dhalsim into the room, pulling his wand out. A flick later and multiple glowing spheres were floating underneath the arched ceiling, illuminating their find.

“What is all of this?” Albus asked himself, but Dhalsim turned to look at him.

“Loss. I can feel it, each thing here once belonged to someone who either cast it away… or passed away with no-one to claim what they left behind.”

Albus stared at the piles that had looked at first like random junk, but now… “There’s so much here… so much that has been lost… so much left behind… so much…”

For a long moment, Albus simply stared at the massive piles before him, then he moved to one and picked up a brightly-patterned scarf draped over a broken chair. Looking up, he met Dhalsim’s gaze.

“This belonged to Adrienna Greenhill. She was a skilled Potioneer who was interested in teaching here after graduating. If she had achieved her goal, she would have been the first Muggleborn professor in over three centuries, but… she and her younger sister were present at Diagon Alley… it would have been her final year…”

Albus slowly folded the scarf and placed it reverantly on a nearby table, then turned to look again at the surrounding piles, his eyes glistening with tears. “How much of this is here because of the actions of Tom and his deluded followers?”

Only silence answered him and Albus wiped the tears from his eyes. “Once we are done here, I shall task the Elves with sorting all of this. Maybe some of those who are represented here still have families…”

“Who deserve closure.” Dhalsim finished as he reappeared, holding something in his hands. “First, however, we should reduce the threat posed by the one with the shattered soul.”

Albus stared at the item in horrified awe. “The long-lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw! How many of the Founders’ legacies has Tom perverted in his quest for immortality?”

“One less after today.” Dhalsim stretched out one hand to snag a small circular stool from a dozen paces away, setting it before him and then laying the Diadem on it.

“Ravenclaw’s Diadem!” Quirrel’s shocked voice caused both men to turn and the DADA Professor stepped into the room, his gaze transfixed by the circlet but his wand held firmly in his hand. Dhalsim stared at him, then his eyes widened.

“He has two souls!”

“Two?” Albus’ eyebrows rose, then lowered as his mind made the connections. “Tom!”

“That is Lord Voldemort to you!” The voice that issued from Quirrel’s throat was not the voice of the Defence Professor and Albus slowly moved sideways to open the gap between him and Dhalsim. “Avada Kedavra!”

The green spell leapt towards Dhalsim, only for a table to leap out of a nearby pile and block it in response to Albus’ command, shattering into a cloud of splinters through which a fist erupted. Quirrel tried to dodge, but Dhalsim’s fist struck his left arm with the sound of bone breaking and Quirrel cried out in pain even as a trio of spells erupted from his wand, these ones aimed at Dumbledore who spun out of the way in a swirl of brightly-coloured robes and an answering barrage of piercing spells that the possessed teacher barely managed to avoid.

Leaping forwards with inhuman speed, Quirrel swung his wand to send a lash of flame scything down to bisect Dhalsim, only for the Yoga Master to flicker out of existence even as Dumbledore unleashed a barrage of stone arrows. A blizzard of ice spears intercepted the stone projectiles and more were blasted at Dumbledore who used a summoned desk to block those heading straight for him, then Quirrel was sent flying sideways by a foot to the side of his head. Although caught by surprise, he managed to fire a cloud of flying knives at a briefly-visible Dhalsim and a second at Dumbledore, then he gathered himself and unleashed a powerful attack.

“Fiendfyre!”

“Yoga Flame!”

The all-consuming torrent of flame that erupted from Quirrel’s wand was met by a counter-torrent as the Yoga Master exhaled, the two cones of raging fire meeting each other in mutual annihilation.

“Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!”

Quirrel screamed as the flames which his spell had been wasting itself against suddenly swept over him while his wand arced high into the air. The flames dissipated, revealing that his turban and outer robes had been reduced to a cinder-speckled collection of burned rags, then the second spell hit and the force threw Quirrel backwards, crashing down onto the ground as chains wrapped around him.

“Are you alright?” Albus asked as he stepped up beside Dhalsim, his wand twitching as he layered ever-denser layers of restraining spells around Quirrel.

“I am well.” Dhalsim said as he picked up the stool from where it had fallen, then repeated his earlier elongating-arm technique to pluck the Diadem from where it had rolled and replace it on the stool. “However, I will need to concentrate.”

“I believe that I can keep him restrained.” Albus confirmed as Quirrel’s entire body was suddenly wrapped in a veritable cocoon of chains, then enfolded in a metal sheet, leaving only his head exposed.

“So I see.” Dhalsim’s voice was drier than the Sahara Desert and Albus briefly smirked, then stepped to stand watch over the Silenced teacher as Dhalsim began moving his hands around the Diadem. For a long moment, it seemed unaffected and Quirrel’s expression was triumphant, then a flicker of darkness, more sensed than felt, briefly showed on the Diadem’s surface.

As both Mages watched, one with rising hope and the other with dawning terror, Dhalsim’s hands coaxed more and more threads of shadow out of the circlet, seperating them and then dissipating them. Thread after thread emerged and was dissolved into nothingness and then something erupted upwards, seeking to escape.

“Yoga fire!”

Dhalsim spat a fireball that lanced upwards and hit the escaping thing, engulfing it before fading to show that whatever it had been, it was now no more. Albus stared at where it had been, then down at Quirrel, who seemed to be having a seizure.

“Dhalsim!”

The metal and chains restraining Quirrel cracked and shattered as the man lunged to his feet, moving in a manner that was anything but human, his now-clawed hand swinging round in an attempt to eviscerate Dumbledore, but the elderly Wizard’s reflexes were still just about sharp enough that he landed on the floor with his stomach intact, albeit revealed by the slashes in his robes.

“Die!”

Quirrel’s hands, wreathed in flame, swung down, only for him to be yanked backwards by the hand that had grabbed his robes from behind. With a strong heave, Dhalsim flung the raging mage against the wall.

“I need him restrained!”

“Understood!” Albus’ wand seemed to blur and manacles clamped around Quirrel’s limbs, stretching him until he was suspended mid-air. “He’s fighting hard, I can only hold him like this for a few moments at best!”

“That will be long enough.” Dhalsim stated as he reached up to place his fingers on either side of Quirrel’s forehead. “If the Diadem was his final anchor, then he is…”

A blast of Magic erupted from Quirrel and Dhalsim was sent flying into a pile of robes that seemed to swallow him even as a cloudy form rose upwards, screaming incoherantly as it passed through the ceiling. Free of whatever had energised and enhanced him, Quirrel slumped in the metal chains that held him once more, only the slight shifting of his chest indicating that he was not deceased.

“Dhalsim? Dhalsim!”

“I am unharmed.” A slightly muffled voice announced, then the pile of robes shifted and slid to disgorge the Yoga Master. “I am, however, irritated. It would seem that the Diadem was not the final one of his Anchors and from how he escaped, the way he could control his movement to such a degree, there must be at least two more to find.”

“I am both relieved and saddened.” Albus admitted as he looked at the Diadem, then up at Quirrel. “Can you hold onto the Diadem for now? I fear that if Quirinus is to have a chance of recovering enough that he may be questioned, I need to take him to Madam Pomphrey right away.”

“I shall accompany you.” Dhalsim decided as he picked up the now-cleansed circlet. “I do not know how much experience this Madam Pomphrey has with spiritual possession and contamination.”

“Probably very little.” Albus sighed as he levitated the comatose professor through the doorway. “I am sure this will be… educational. For her and myself.”

“This is a place of learning, is it not?” Dhalsim asked, a slight twitch of his lips betraying his amusement. “Why do you sound as though you fear the joy of discovering new things?”

His only answer was an irritated-yet-slightly-amused glare.

Chapter Text

Harry stepped through the door and paused, a grin settling on his face as he looked at two of the four men waiting for me.

“I know, we just can’t stay away.” Ken laughed as he held out his fist for Harry to fist-bump, a greeting which Ryu repeated. “Sit, sit.”

Harry perched on the edge of the seat that Ken had motioned him towards, glancing at the other two men. One of them he recognised from the paper, but the scarred man was unknown to him.

“We’ve been talking while waiting for you.” Ryu began, snapping Harry’s attention to him. “These are Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, both friends of your parents… and both of them were forced to keep their distance from you. Black because he was thrown into prison without a trial and Lupin because he’s a werewolf.”

“Really?” Harry blinked. “What sort? Can you control it?”

The newly-introduce Lupin blinked. “Um, no? It happens at the full moon… I lose control and become dangerous to any humans around me…”

“Three nights a month.” Ryu added. “For some reason, the Wizards see it as an insurmountable issue rather than something that can be planned for.”

“It did mean that legally, I was not only banned from taking you in,” Lupin continued, “I couldn’t even visit without your guardian’s permission… and your aunt refused to have anything to do with the magical world.”

“Then Ryu here pulled the best prank ever and took you in himself.” Sirius grinned. “Apparently the panic was incredible.”

“Not my intention.” Ryu demurred, then he smiled. “It was funny to hear about, though.”

Black grinned at the comment, then turned his attention back to Harry. “So, I hear that you’ve become famous in the Muggle world too?”

“Mainly due to Uncle Fei-Long…” Harry grinned back and Sirius blinked in confusion.

“Who?”

.

As the door closed behind Harry, who was returning to the Gryffindor Tower for the night, Ryu turned to give Sirius a long, contemplative look.

“What?”

“Ken has told me what the role of Godfather entails, but you have quite obviously made no move to try and take Hari into your home.”

“That’s because I have no real clue how to be a parent.” His comment earned curious looks the others at the table and Sirius continued. “Albus and Remus here both know what my mother used to be like and my father never tried to restrain her in any way, preferring to simply hide in his study whenever she got loud. The only reason I have any idea about what a family should be like is that J… James’ parents almost adopted me as a second son. They would have done, if not for…”
Sirius trailed off, his eyes unfocused in memory, then he slumped slightly in his chair. “Anyway, while I’d still love to be part of his life, I’m not suitable to be a parental figure. A fun uncle would be the better role for me, one I could fill with Remus here being the stodgy uncle…”

“Oi!” Remus protested as Ken raised his hand to muffle his chuckle.

“…but you’ve been far better for him as a parent than I could have ever been.” Sirius concluded.

“Well, our little trainee can’t have too many uncles.” Ken mused. “So, you got anywhere to stay? We’re not doing another lesson here until the day after tomorrow, so if you want, I can put you up in the guest rooms of my home. It’s got a half-dozen suites to spare, so it shouldn’t be a problem and the staff are all magical.”

“They are?” Ryu asked, caught by surprise.

“Yep, Muggleborns I hired away from their boring jobs as shop clerks and message-runners.” Ken confirmed. “Part of their job is to study to pass their non-magical exams so they can interact with people in both worlds.”

“That explains the butler…” Ryu mused and Ken shook his head.

“He doesn’t use magic to appear out of nowhere, he’s just that good.”

“You’re offering to put us up while my house gets checked over by curse-breakers? I… I have to ask. Are you serious?”

“No, you are.”

Sirius stared at Ryu, then burst out in barks of laughter as Remus face-palmed.

.

.

“Impressive, isn’t he?” Dumbledore asked quietly as he joined Sirius and Remus in watching the group of students learning the basics of martial arts, the werewolf standing beside the chair that his friend was half-sprawled in. In front of them, Ken led the students through the basic Kata while Ryu and Harry moved through the ranks, quietly correcting or congratulating those who were making progress in overcoming their previous errors.

“Yeah… Ryu’s been good as his guardian.” Sirius nodded, then exhaled. “Better than I could have been. And the stories he’s been telling… Remus and I have both asked to tag along on their next tour.”

Albus gave a slow nod.

“So, about the locket the Curse-breakers found and I passed to you?”

“Purified.” Albus handed the item in question to Sirius, who looked at it before pocketing it. “Yet at least one more anchor remains.”

“I’ll have to look through the library once I feel better.” Sirius grumbled. “I remember my dear mother threatening to use me as ritual fodder so that she wouldn’t be able to die… we probably have details of the ritual somewhere. Not that mother was good at rituals, she didn’t have the patience. She flunked Potions because she kept trying to speed it up.”

“I remember some of her more spectacular mistakes.” Albus reminisced. “Just out of curiosity, how did you know? I severely doubt that she would have mentioned it. Her pride alone would have prevented it.”

“Went through some of the family records and found her OWL results.” Sirius chuckled. “I actually beat her all across the board which is rather hilarious given that she kept insisting that I was a total disgrace to the House of Black. Checked the NEWTs and I beat her in DADA and Transfiguration.”

“And the other subjects?” Remus prompted, earning a barking laugh.

“No other overlap, but she barely passed History and massively failed in Care of Magical Creatures… guess that’s because there wasn’t a single drop of caring in her.”

“I… wish that I could find it within me to argue with your description of her.” Albus sighed.

The trio went silent, watching the students moving to sit round the edge while Harry Potter and Hermione Granger bowed to each other, then dropped into ready stances as Ken watched over them. Another pair of students squared off against each other on the other side of the room under Ryu’s watchful gaze.

“I’m surprised that you’re encouraging this.” Sirius finally noted, his eyes fixed on Harry, who was blocking and parrying. “You dislike violence…”

“I have had many talks with one who taught my own teachers, aided by the fact that he has guided me through how he reaches out to others.” Albus replied quietly. “I still do not approve of violence… but in my dislike for it, I overlooked that there is a vast difference between raising a fist to strike down the innocent and raising a fist to counter it. Violence is never the solution, but sometimes… sometimes it is a tool which unfortunately needs to be used.”

“Then there’s the confidence and fitness boosts.” Remus added. “Physical fitness aids with magical capacity and control.”

“Alphonse Potter.” Sirius chuckled and Albus nodded as he recognised the name even though it was from well before he was born.

“He was quite famous. What was it they called him? The Dragon Puncher?”

Sirius nodded. “Indeed. James and I tried to get fit when we read about his adventures, but… yeah. We went overboard and tried to do his full workout straight away.”

“I remember that.” Remus mused, his eyes unfocused in memory. “James dislocated his right shoulder, you broke all the fingers of your left hand, both of you twisted both ankles…”

Sirius began to answer, then paused as Harry performed a perfect hip-wheel throw that left Hermione pinned and mildly annoyed. “Huh, I wonder what would have happened if I’d tried that move on Lily?”

“You’d have a very nice tombstone.” Remus fired at him and Sirius nodded, a wry smile on his face.

“Probably.”

Albus cleared his throat and both men looked at him. “As you are both here now and you, in particular, are well on the road to recovery, I have something I would like to ask of you. There is not only a vacancy that has arisen but also a class that would do well to be re-established…”

.

.

Lucius sat glaring at the piece of parchment in his hand, then up at his wife, who looked rather nervous.

“My love…” She began and Lucius gave a choppy nod.

“Your son will remain my heir.” He growled, continuing to glare at the document, then he slapped it down, the sigil of Saint Mungo’s briefly catching the lantern-light. Narcissa glanced at it briefly, then turned her gaze back to her husband when he didn’t hand it over for her to look at.

“How badly has this hurt us politically, my beloved?” She asked instead and Lucius closed his eyes in thought.

“Reputation, more than anything.” He finally declared. “We are still very wealthy, even though we will not be gaining the fabled Black Vaults. The Black Library would have allowed us to secure our control over Wizarding society, allowing us to guide it to the proper ways, but the records we have are an adequate substitute, if only barely. The real problem is that Draco has now gained a reputation for not thinking things through and acting without planning.”

“That is a problem.” Narcissa agreed sadly. “Shall I begin searching for a tutor to raise his skills?”

“His reputation in Hogwarts is almost beyond salvaging by now.” Lucius shook his head. “I had a long talk with Professor Snape… I’ve arranged to fund an upgrade for the Potions Laboratories as cover, but… Draco apparently is feared but not respected in Slytherin.”

Narcissa blinked. “That is not good, but… how?”

“He relies too much on our family name and status rather than trying to stand up for himself.” Lucius almost snarled. “According to Severus, his go-to threat is wait until my father hears about this.”

Narcissa winced and Lucius nodded.

“At this rate, he may not survive to graduate. I fear that the only way to force him to grow is to send him to Durmstrang under a new name, at least until he graduates.”

“That would prevent him from using ours as a bludgeon and force him to learn to stand on his own two feet.” Narcissa agreed, then she frowned. “Am I misremembering or is Durmstrang currently led by Karkaroff?”

“He is indeed the Headmaster there.” Lucius confirmed.

“Can we trust him?”

“Of course not!” Lucius chuckled, genuine humour in his voice for the first time that day. “The way he fled after the Dark Lord fell showed that he was only in it for his own share of power but he knows me and what I can do. He is aware that my reach stretches across borders. No, he will ensure that Draco survives. Whether he thrives or not shall be up to Draco himself.”

“And when do we tell Draco about his new place?” Narcissa asked.

“There are many arrangements to make before he can be transferred and it will take some time.” Lucius steepled his fingers thoughtfully. “Keeping a low profile makes it harder, should word leak prematurely then the reputation of the Malfoy line will take even more damage. Draco will learn at the end of the school year. For now, though… contact him and tell him to keep a low profile at all costs, save where schoolwork is involved. The only thing I wish to hear about him for now is that he is getting good grades.”

“Yes, my love.”

Lucius watched his wife leave, then opened a drawer in his desk that most would have failed to spot, a drawer hidden not with magic, but with the sheer skill of the now-deceased artisan who had made it. Reaching into it, he pulled out a folder and placed it on his desk, opening it to a specific page which boasted a moving picture of an elderly man, one whose face was twisted with sadistic enquiry. Pulling out his wand, Lucius touched it to the picture and spoke.

“Doctor Senoh.”

“Hmmm? Oh my! Lord Malfoy, it has been quite some time since we last spoke. I thought you were deceased.” A reedy voice rose from the parchment after a long moment and Lucius’ face twisted briefly in disgust, although he allowed no sign of it to show in his voice.

“I have contacted you because I desire any information you may have on a certain pair of fighters. They are Ken Masters and…”

“Ryu? Oh yes, I have information on the two of them. Send me a vampire to use as a test subject and I shall give you all that I have on them.”

“Same place as where I last sent the items you requested?”

“Of course.”

.

.

“Welcome to your first class of Wizarding Studies!” Sirius grinned at the mostly-Muggleborn and Muggle-raised students gathered in the large classroom, his godson amongst them. “Most of you have noticed that in the Magical World, we do things rather differently than most of you are used to. By now, you probably think that most of our society is insane, but you’d only be partially right.”

Looking round, Sirius let his grin fade. “For much of Wizarding History, the concept of Might making Right has been a primary mover. The leaders of the past were powerful mages who used that power to place their own views of how things should be. Some of those Mages ended up fighting each other and trying to drag others in to aid them or launching strikes that caused disasters as they attempted to kill those they hated, such as the conflict between the tribes led by the Mage-Shamans Urtho the Silent and Kiyamvir Ma’ar, a conflict which destroyed the incredibly fertile Vales of Demar, creating the Sahara Desert.
“The most deadly attack in British history was the Great Wave in 1607, an attack launched by a group of Scottish Wizards seeking to undo the union of England and Scotland. The ritual they performed summoned a massive wave that killed over two thousand Muggles and wiped out an entire Magical town located in a set of caverns underneath Brean. Of the ninety-six magicals who lived there, only three survived to tell of what they had seen, one of them being Vindictus Viridian who managed to identify one of the Scottish Rebels, thus allowing the Wizengamot to put in motion a series of raids that resulted in all the rebels being captured and their magic bound.”

Silence filled the classroom for a moment before Sirius continued.

“The Great Wave contributed to the push for all Magicals to be gathered under the the control of the Wizengamot and the death of King Charles the First at the hands of Oliver Cromwell added emphasis to that. All over the country, hidden shelters and concealed hamlets were set up for Magicals to retreat to as anti-Magical sentiment surged and by the time the International Statute of Secrecy was implemented, Magicals and non-Magical societies were effectively separate anyway.
“Despite effectively separating, Magicals retained some of the traditions they had inherited from the non-Magicals such as Patrilineal Succession, although a small subset decided to reverse that by going for Matrilineal Succession in order to demonstrate that they were indeed different from the non-magicals. Even now, both traditions are followed by various families, which has led to some… interesting problems rising when said families ended up merging. Gender-specific roles were also kept, although with magical strength being paramount, it became more of an expectations thing rather than a legal thing and the case of Whilhelmina the Wizard, who was raised as a girl by his mother, forced the Wizengamot to legally allow Witches and Wizards to take whatever role they wanted to, so long as they were able to perform the duties of said roles.”

The silence from the audience became rather more contemplative and Sirius nodded.

“With gender less important, magical prowess became the most important defining trait and in that, the older families had the advantage. Not in terms of pure power, it’s an unspoken truth that most Muggleborns are magically stronger than Purebloods, but in the deeper knowledge which increases magical prowess. Pureblood families build Grimoires of spells that they teach only to their own while Muggleborns are usually limited to the spells they are taught here and maybe a few that they manage to invent or stumble across themselves. Some Pureblood families even have rituals that let them create pools of power that they can tap into to enhance their ability to cast spells.
“This has its own issues, however, and it was not unknown for Pureblood families to try to wipe each other out in order to claim the knowledge hoarded by them. Others, such as the now-ended Gaunt family, refused to allow what they saw as unclean blood into their family and literally bred themselves into extinction.”

The silence was shocked and Sirius started to pace across the front of the room.

“As a result of the change in emphasis and the possible dangers that everyone carrying a wand poses, Wizarding society has since evolved a number of traditions designed to keep people from simply firing spells at those they dislike. Politeness is the most important part of this, especially towards those you are opposed to. Insulting them is… acceptable, but the more subtle the insult, the better. It is not unknown for two mages on the verge of Blood-Feud to suddenly decide they can put up with each other after all because of a well-crafted yet humorous insult that the one being insulted finds to be amusing regardless. The Potter and the Longbottom families became close when Frank Longbottom managed to zing James Potter with a well-crafted insult that had James laughing for almost an hour. Amazingly, it was an off-the-wand insult that was not pre-planned and while neither would tell anyone what it was, it erased the near-hatred that had built up between them.
“The better the insult, the more you show that you respect the other person even if you also despise them. Basic insults, especially ones that are repeated, show the opposite. The most basic insults are Mudblood, an insult based on the old belief that Muggles did not understand bathing and lived in muddy hovels, or Staleblood which indicates that someone is from a family that has stagnated and cannot hope to grow… yes, Mister Longbottom?”

“I came across the insult you were talking about while looking in the family archives.” Neville volunteered. “James Potter had noted that Frank’s robes were at least a generation out of date and that if he wanted to wear clothes that were actually in fashion, James might be persuaded to show him his wardrobe. Dad replied that he had outgrown nappies, so there would be very little he could use.”

Sirius stared at him, then burst out laughing. “Oh, that was brilliant! Hitting James on his maturity and fashion sense in one single sentence? Wish they’d told me about it, I wouldn’t have tried to prank him nearly as much if I’d known he was like that...”

Chapter Text

“Harry?”

Harry looked up from the essay that he was writing, blinking as he saw both of the Patil twins.

“Padma, Parvati.” He nodded in greeting. “I just have another couple of paragraphs to go.”

“Finish up and then we can talk.” Parvati said as she moved round the table to where two of the three empty chairs were, her sister following her even as she glanced round the Gryffindor common room.

“Cosy.” She finally decided, then sighed. “Not enough books, though.”

“You and your books.” Parvati sighed, although her eyes sparkled with amusement. “I dare say that if you could, you’d sleep on a pile of books.”

“Too much chance of causing spine damage.” Padma shot back and Parvati winced at the pun. “What? Did you think I’d leaf that opening alone?”

“Enough, please!” Parvati half-begged and Harry chuckled as he finished the final sentence of his essay, then he held his hand over the parchment, channeling his chi to help the ink dry before starting to pack his things away.

“So, you wanted to discuss something?” Harry asked as he slid the sheets of parchment into a folder, twisting the cord around the button on the front to keep it closed.

“We did.” Parvati confirmed, then she paused. “Or rather… our parents wanted us to talk to you.”

“About…?” Harry prompted after a long moment.

“Our Grandfather has heard about you and wants to invite you over for Christmas, our family is holding a Ball.” Padma stated. “He’s already spoken to your guardians, Ken and Ryu, as well as Professors Black and Lupin, although they can only visit for the afternoon due to their duties here. All of them have agreed… as long as you do as well.”

“Please say yes.” Parvati’s tone seemed calm and composed, but Harry could hear the pleading within it.

“What sort of dancing will there be?” Harry asked thoughtfully. “I’ve learned several types of dance, but I may need lessons in whatever dancing the Wizarding World prefers.”

The twins stared at him for a moment, then turned to look at each other.

“Your record player…” “Second corridor…” “Bad flagstones. Third floor…” “Southern side…” “dressing up?” “Practice.” “…right.”

Harry blinked several times as the two girls exchanged barest fragments of sentences, then they turned back to him.

“There’s an unused former gymnasium on the third floor where we can teach you how to dance, once we clear it with the teachers and set it up.” Padma noted, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Exercise clothes will do for now, we can worry about upgrading your wardrobe closer to the Ball.”

“Wardrobe?” Harry asked and both girls nodded.

“Formal robes.” Parvati stated, leaning forwards to examine Harry more closely. “And maybe a green headband…”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “This was a gift from my parents.”

His statement was met with two stares filled with confusion.

“A gift… from your… parents?” Padma finally asked and Harry nodded.

“They gave it to me when Dhalsim-Shifu opened the Gates so that I could meet them. Dad also gave me my ability to become a tiger. Look.”

Harry reached behind his head and caught the ends of the ribbon, pulling it round to show the golden embroidery on the ends. “My father could turn into a stag and the flower represents my mother.”

“That is so…” Parvati shook her head. “Wow. Just… wow.”

Harry nodded and flipped the ribbon so that it settled back into its normal place.

“Okay… rethinking the colour scheme now.” Padma tapped her chin thoughtfully. “White with red and gold highlights?”

“In Japan, white is the colour of death.” Harry protested and Padma sighed.

“Well, black wouldn’t work that well, it would make you far less visible. Grey, perhaps? Silver-grey, maybe a couple of shades closer to charcoal…”

Harry gave Parvati a confused look, receiving a pitying one in reply.

.

.

“Everyone, be seated!” Remus Lupin commanded and a moment later, everyone was perched on their seats, looking at him expectantly. “Now, today we will be looking at the paintball spell. Despite the name, this spell doesn’t actually fire paint, it fires a small spark that changes the colour of whatever it hits in a patch about an inch across… like so.”

Remus’ wand twitched and a small sparkle of red flashed across the room to hit the back wall, where it left a red circle. A second spark, this one blue, left a blue circle next to it.

“As you can see, the colours are already starting to fade.” Remus continued. “It lasts longer if it hits fabric or skin, but even then, it’ll be gone within a quarter hour. There is a version that lasts longer, up to a full day, but we won’t be learning that for now.”

Ignoring the mutterings of discontent, Remus waved his wand at the blackboard, causing a set of diagrams and instructions to fade into view. “Now, the Paintball spell is good as the first step towards other spells in the same family, such as the Colour Change Charm. This particular spell is relatively simple to learn, being a point-cast spell, so there are no wand motions to memorise. The incantation is Mento Pulsum and you concentrate on the colour you want to use, then imagine it coming out of the wand. Copy the instructions into your grimoires, then we can practice it.”

Harry quickly wiped the calligraphy brush that he used in preference to the normal quill against the Ink Stone in its tray, then with quick, precise strokes, he copied down the information, adding his own observations in Kanji down the sides.

“Is that… Chinese?” Hermione asked as she glanced over from the next desk, where she was sat alongside Parvati and Harry shook his head.

“Japanese. Ryu-Otousan taught me, then Ken-Ojiisan helped me to relearn English as well.” Harry shook his head again. “Both have so many strange ways of spelling things…”

Harry sighed, then carefully but quickly packed away his calligraphy set. Holding his hand out over the parchment, he channelled his chi to generate heat, drying the ink without risking it smearing. Once the ink was dry, Harry slid the sheet into the folder that served as his personal spell repository.

“All done?” Professor Lupin asked, looking round as everyone finished capping their ink bottles. “Good, put your things away, bags on chairs, wands out and then up to the front.”

Once everyone was assembled, Remus waved his wand, casing the chairs and desks to slide to the edges of the room, then three large white canvas sheets unrolled from the ceiling, concealing the furniture from view.

“Use these to practice the spell on.” Remus ordered. “Stay in the middle and aim outwards, then begin!”

Harry moved towards the end of the rough double-line, pulling out his wand. Lifting it, he pointed it at the end canvas and spoke.

“Mento Pulsum!”

A golden spark flashed out from the tip of his wand and raced towards the canvas, only to flicker and fade before it reached it. Harry blinked, then frowned, reaching inside himself and pulling on both his magic and his Chi for the next attempt, twisting them together into a single point that he fed into the spell.

“Mento Pulsum!”

The spark of golden light erupted from his wand and left a glowing trail as it raced across the gap, slamming into the canvas sheet so hard that despite the insubstantial nature of the spell, the sheet briefly folded inwards as if it had been hit by a rock even as the entire surface of it shifted into a golden hue.

As the sheet settled, a shocked hush settled across the class and Remus moved past to examine the recoloured canvas.

“I think a little less power next time.” He finally announced, waving his wand in a complex move that caused the golden colouration to separate from the sheet and dissipate. “Hmmm, that was surprisingly difficult to undo. How did you do that?”

“Mixed my Chi into my magic.” Harry shrugged, feeling everyone’s gazes on him.

“Well, for now, just stick to using magic alone.”

“Yes, professor.”

.

By the end of the class, Harry had managed to work out how much magic to use and how hard to push it to make the spell work without dramatically over-powering it. Most of the other students had also learned how to vary the speed and size of the spell and the once-white canvas sheets were now a veritable riot of clashing colours that made even Headmaster Dumbledore’s most outrageous robes look positively plebian by comparison.

“Very good, all of you.” Remus smiled as everyone reclaimed their bags. “Now that you have point-casting down, make sure to read ahead with the next spell on your list, the Stinging Hex. Oh, and Mister Potter? The Stinging Hex is not to be over-powered.”

Harry blushed slightly as several of the other students giggled or chuckled at the reference to his fairly unique experimental casting technique. “Hai, Sensei! I… I mean, yes, professor.”

.

.

The dancing room was twice as large as a regular classroom with a huge mirror on either side of the door in which Harry stood. The opposite wall was comprised of eleven arched windows that allowed the daylight to fully illuminate the room and every second window included a double-door that permitted access to the balconey outside.

The room itself boasted a stage at one end on which a number of students were tuning their instruments. To Harry’s amusement, a record player sat on a table in the corner and a small sheet had been flung over it, slipping off enough to reveal the horn and winding handle of the device but still positioned to stop it from being used.

A quick glance located the duo he was searching for and Harry moved across to where the Patil twins were talking to Professor Vector and all three looked round as he approached.

“I’m curious…” Harry began, waving one hand at the musicians and both girls blushed while Vector laughed.

“They’re the Hogwarts Orchestral Society.” Professor Vector supplied after a moment. “They generally practice on the other side of the castle, but when they heard about the dancing lessons, they asked if they could supply the music.”

“Apparently, they’re quite good.” Padma quietly added.

Another group of students, these ones mainly Hufflepuffs, entered the room, looking round curiously before spreading out, a few of them producing instruments and joining those on the stage.

“Excuse me.” Vector murmured before she almost seemed to glide across to the musicians.

“Has she had martial arts training?” Harry asked, observing the Professor’s smooth gait and Parvati shook her head.

“No, she had ballet lessons as a child and attends regular balls.” Parvati replied. “Why?”

“Just how smoothly she moves.” Harry explained. “She’s incredibly well balanced.”

“I suppose that as someone who has studied under Shifu Dhalsim, you would notice things like that." Padma commented as another group of students entered, many of them clad in formal robes or well-tailored dresses. Harry looked at them, then looked at the Patil twins for an explanation, only for them both to shrug in return.

“We’re almost ready to begin.” Vector said, having somehow managed to sneak up behind Harry, then she vanished again into the swirling crowd of students.

“How did she do that?” Harry asked, wide-eyed and with one hand pressed to his chest.

.

Dancing, Harry decided, was actually far more enjoyable than he had previously expected. There was something pure about harmonising one’s movements with the music, of ensuring that one was in harmony with one’s dancing partner. There seemed to be a type of communication which flowed between them, a give-and-accept, each one leading or following as the music changed.

The dance finally ended and Harry removed his left hand from where it had been resting just to the side of Parvati’s spine, stepping back slightly so that he could bow to her as she curtseyed back to him, then the deep silence was shattered by the rising of conversation and Parvati tucked herself against his side, half-leading him back to where Padma was waiting with two glasses of diluted fruit-juice for them.

“You’re really good at dancing.” Parvati smiled as they moved off the dance floor.

“Really?” Harry shook his head. “It’s all so new to me…”

“At least you’re not acting like that idiot.” Parvati tilted her head to indicate the boy who was sulking in the corner, a red handprint covering a third of his face while nearby, the girl who had slapped him for trying to grab a certain area of her that he shouldn’t have grabbed glared at him, a glare copied by the half-dozen other girls surrounding her. “You really do respect women.”

Harry paused for a moment. “You do remember Chun-Li, yes?”

Parvati nodded as she accepted the drink from her sister and Harry continued to speak. “With people like her teaching me, why would I not respect women?”

“He has a point.” Padma giggled as she handed the second glass to Harry, who smiled in thanks before taking a sip. “Chun-Li was awesome! I still remember listening to how she helped take down those trolls.”

“She’s one of my Senseis… I mean teachers.” Harry corrected himself. “She mainly concentrated on teaching me how to kick.”

“And what did your other teachers teach you?” Parvati asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

“Ryu and Ken are still teaching me Ansatsuken, although they both encourage me to learn other things and fold them into it to make it stronger.” Harry paused to take another sip. “Chun-Li taught me how to kick properly, Guile taught me the proper way to punch and dodge as well as some knife-work, Honda taught me how to do palm-strikes and the basics of grappling and Fei-Long helped me with finger-strikes and moving faster. Dhalsim… is complicated.”

Both girls nodded at that, then Padma looked at the students who had begun a new dance.

“Odd.” She mused. “I expected to see Malfoy here, showing off how well he can dance and using the breaks to enhance his status.”

Harry turned and scanned the moving students, then the students relaxing by the refreshments table. “…huh, you’re right. Come to think about it, he’s been keeping a very low profile since I beat him in that fight.”

“You did cost him the position of Heir Black.” Padma noted. “His father must have been quite annoyed with him. Finished your drink yet?”

Harry nodded, then paused as Parvati, not Padma, took his glass.

“It’s her turn to dance now.” Parvati explained with a smile and Padma grabbed Harry’s hands to pull him out onto the dance floor.

.

“That was fun.” Harry noted as he stepped into the corridor.

“How are you not exhausted?” Padma asked, tiredness tinging her voice. “You danced twice as much as we did.”

Harry blinked, then chuckled. “I do a lot of physical training?”

Parvati groaned. “He’s right, he does. Every morning he runs through a set of exercises in the common room… and most of the boys have joined in.”

Padma paused, then scurried to catch up. “Really?”

“Really.” Parvati confirmed. “Professor Lupin did point out that physical fitness helps with magical capability, remember?”

Padma nodded thoughtfully, then sighed. “Looks like I need to attend more of those sessions your guardians hold, although I always look so messy afterwards…”

Parvati sighed at her sister’s complaint and Harry managed not to laugh.

Chapter Text

The staff room was slightly more crowded than usual thanks to the extra people and Albus looked round at the assembled teachers and visitors.

“Well, the day after tomorrow, most of our students will be departing to return to their families.” Albus noted. “As such, I believe that now is a good time to address any issues which may arise upon their returns.”

“So far, things seem to be going well.” Alastor Moody noted from the corner he was sat in, sharing a table with Ryu and Ken. “I don’t trust it. It’s going too well.”

“We did have some excitement a little while back, if you recall.” Albus replied. “But at least the curse on the Defence class is finally broken. So, you had something to say, Severus?”

“I will not be here over the holiday as I have a certain… procedure to undergo.” Snape declared, giving Albus a slight nod of acknowledgement. “Professor Vector has agreed to be the Interim Head of Slytherin in my absence. Once again, my thanks for that.”

The woman being addressed simply nodded in reply.

“I’ll be gone as well.” Remus added. “Same destination as Professor Snape and to see the same person.”

Several of the other staff members looked confused, but Sirius just nodded in understanding.

“Moving on,” Albus reclaimed control of the meeting, “Have any students indicated that they may not be returning?”

“Draco Malfoy.” Severus replied almost instantly and everyone stared at him.

“…what?”

His lips quirking slightly in amusement at Black’s confusion, Severus resumed his explanation. “It was Narcissa who informed me that at the end of the school year, young Draco will be leaving Hogwarts and transferring to Durmstrang. His father is trying to get him transferred over the holidays, but success there is very unlikely.”

“True.” Albus nodded in agreement. “Transferring schools takes a lot of parchment-work, no matter how much gold one throws at the problem.”

“And with Narcissa no longer a legal part of the Black family, Lucy’s lost access to the portion of the Black Wealth that ‘cissa used to be able to tap into.” Sirius gloated, then he looked round to see the various looks being sent his way. “What? At least I didn’t simply kick her out like my dearly departed hag of a mother tried to do to me, I took the time to make sure that she has enough money to live on, although I did ensure that Lucy isn’t allowed to take anything from that vault or even look into it. If he tries, the vault gets locked for a year and a day and both of them know it.”

“And young Draco?” Severus prompted.

“I’ve set up a trust vault for him.” Sirius shrugged. “He’s a spoiled brat and the spawn of an unrepentant Death Eater, but he’s also my cousin’s son so he is family. He can’t access the vault directly, but his school costs and a small allowance are covered, at least until he finishes school. After that, it’s up to him. If he gets a Dark Mark, he’s completely out of the Black family and the vault gets folded into my Godson’s. If he gets convicted of Muggle baiting, attacking Muggles or assaulting muggleborns, the same thing happens. If he gets to the end of his education without doing those things, the Vault gets refilled to the original level and he receives the key so that he can do as he wants with it. He also gets an additional amount equal to half the original level each year on his birthday for a full ten years… so long as he hasn’t done any of the bad things I’ve already mentioned. I made sure to send both him and his father letters explaining what I’ve done… including the fact that while I’ve kicked out ‘cissa, I’ve simply placed Draco’s status on hold until he’s at least thirty.”

“That is… quite interesting.” Severus admitted in a voice filled with amused respect. “I had no idea that you were capable of such subtle methods of revenge. Lucius Malfoy must be almost apoplectic that if he lets his son follow his path, any chance of his regaining access to the Black fortune is forever lost.”

“I quite liked it.” Sirius grinned. “Just wish it had been my idea, but it seems that Ken can be really vicious when he wants to be.”

Severus glanced over to the corner where Alastor Moody, Ken Masters and Ryu were sat around a small table, the former in the corner reading a scroll that the other two had brought with them, then snorted with amusement. “I see.”

“Let us move on.” Albus once again took control of the discussion. “How have people been responding to the Wizarding Customs class?”

“My Eagles are quite taken by it.” Filius piped up before anyone else could reply. “For those raised outside the Magical World, it has proven to be very enlightening in why their new housemates do as they do. As for those who were raised in our world but chose to attend, it has opened their eyes to why newcomers react how they do to quite a few of our traditions and social activities.”

“My Badgers enjoy the class.” Professor Sprout added. “For many of the same reasons.”

“And have there been many complaints?” Albus asked, smiling as the assembled teachers shook their heads, although one of them was far more reluctant than the others. “Excellent.”

.

.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

Severus Snape took a moment to observe the blond boy who had entered his office, noting how his previous aura of arrogant superiority had vanished, worry and a trace of fear taking its place.

“Be seated.”

Draco Malfoy moved to the indicated chair and sank into it as Severus looked at him over steepled fingers. The boy shifted nervously in his chair under Snape’s scrutiny.

“I trust that your mother has explained to you the financial consequences of attempting to follow the path that your father once held to?” He finally asked and Draco nodded, the uncertainty in his expression briefly being replaced by anger verging on outright fury.

“Yes.” He growled and Severus leaned back in his chair.

“You have reservations about what you have been tasked with?”

“Black’s a traitor!” Draco spat, his usual arrogance briefly re-emerging. “Appeasing the mudbloods…”

The sound of Snape’s hand slapping the surface of his desk stopped the boy and Severus glared at him.

“Lord Black,” Snape made sure to stress the title, “Has been educating those new to our world in the traditions we hold to and the reasons for them. Why do you think that this is a bad thing?”

Draco opened his mouth to reply, then stopped. As Snape watched, Draco tried several more times to come up with a valid reason, only to fail. Fighting down the highly inappropriate (and uncharacteristic) urge to laugh, Snape resumed speaking.

“You may be unaware of this, but the other teachers have reported that tensions between the muggle-raised and the magic-raised have decreased noticeably in the other Houses. Being able to understand each others viewpoints has helped to smooth things out quite a bit.”

“They shouldn’t even be here!” Draco protested, only to shrink back as Snape glared at him. For a long moment, the office was silent, then Severus leaned back and steepled his fingers, his gaze fixed on the suddenly-trembling boy.

“Without Muggleborns, our entire world would have died out decades if not centuries ago.” He growled. “Without the infusion of fresh blood… of fresh talent, the Wizarding World would stagnate, rot and implode. As it is, too many are relying on what their ancestors have achieved, not what they themselves can do!
“Over Christmas, research your family. Both sides of it, all the branches. Find out what your ancestors have achieved, what they were famous for and what some of them were hated and villified for. Check their blood status for there are several halfbloods on your mothers’ side. The Black family were not too proud to allow the truly skilled and powerful to be brought into their ranks, although their pride did prevent them from affording Muggleborn the same privileges. Research them and find out what they did that one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight would open their ranks to them.
“And when you have done your research, when you have written down all your ancestors for at least five generations, take a good look at what they achieved, what they were able to do. And when you return, tell me how you will try to match them… or if you are happy to remain in their shadows for the rest of your life, seen not as Draco Malfoy, but as a mere placeholder, one who is unworthy compared to the greater witches and wizards that will arise in the generations yet to come.
“Now get out of my office!”

The door slammed open as Draco scurried out and Severus closed his eyes with a sigh.

“How in Merlin’s name did the Sorting Hat ever think that he was suited to Slytherin?”

.

“’Arry!” Hagrid called out. “Wait up a mo!”

Harry paused in his journey from Hogwarts Castle to the main gate (where Ken and Ryu were waiting for him) as Hagrid vanished into his hut, then re-emerged with a small parcel.

“I’m headin’ over to Japan over the holidays to do more studyin’ with Honda-Sensei.” Hagrid explained as he made his way past the vegetable patches. “Was gonna send this to yer guardians for you, but since you’re here… this is from me for you. Hope you enjoy it.”

Harry looked down at the parcel, noting the tag on it that marked it as a Christmas prestent, then looked up and smiled. “Thanks, Hagrid.”

Hagrid laughed and lightly ruffled Harry’s hair, then paused as one of the Oni emerged from the Forbidden forest, arguing with an infuriated Centaur that was waving a broken bow as he yelled something that Harry couldn’t quite make out. “Looks like dat idiot Bane tried shooting at Himiko… ‘scuse me, gotta step in afore she decides to simply pick him up an’ dunk him in the lake again.”

Harry blinked, mouthing the word ‘again?’ in confusion as Hagrid strode off towards the arguing duo, then he tucked the small package away in his robe’s inner pocket before resuming his journey.

.

.

The room was large and mostly dark, a beam of light from above illuminating the solitary chair in the middle and lights set into the floor marking out a path to the chair and its dias from the doorway.

The chair itself was thronelike, albeit a throne that had multiple additions to it, accessories that were attached to the sides and back of the throne with wires, tubes and air hoses draped in various places, all leading to the severely damaged figure that was slouched in the throne’s padded embrace. The parts of its skin that could be seen through the bandages and medical devices were scarred and burned, but the eyes could be seen to be glowing with a faint, purple light that highlighted their lack of iris or pupil.

Three men stood in front of the seated figure. The tallest was a dark-skinned man with an eyepatch, clad in the shorts and wraps of a Muay Thai practitioner. The second was even darker man wearing a sleeveless open-fronted gown over boxing shorts and laced-up boots, his hands encased in modified boxing gloves with a small rip over his left knuckles showing metal underneath.

The final man was a pale, nearly-hairless elderly man whose eyes glinted with an eagerness to inflict pain on others simply to observe and learn from their reactions.

“…report.” The man slumped in the throne managed and the shortest man bowed slightly.

“One of my acquaintences in the other world has contacted me with the locations of the two that you tasked me with locating, Master. They are in Maillaig, in Scotland, near a school known as Hogwarts.”

“…I have heard… of it. Is the… Headmaster still… Dumbledore?”

“Apparently so, Master.” The scientist was unable to keep the surprise out of his reply, earning a dark chuckle from the throne.

“Unfortunate…continue.”

“The reason that they are there is that Ryu adopted a young boy several years back, a certain Harry Potter...”

“That’s the name of the boy who stars in the Dawn Fist Trilogy with Fei Long!” The boxer exclaimed, then he shrank back as the seated figure focused on him. “Sorry.”

“Really? Then… I shall… have to watch… those films.”

“They’re really good?”

“Hush.”

“Yessir!”

“As Balrog said,” The scientist reclaimed the seated figure’s attention, “The young Harry Potter has starred alongside Fei Long in a film trilogy, also alongside the two practitioners who caused your current state.”

“How… interesting.”

“Preliminary analysis suggests that the young boy isn’t studying Ansatsuken in the same form that his guardian does. He has shown several moves from other styles. Judging from his moves and where he has been spotted in the past, it is my belief that he has been learning from Fei Long, Captain Guile, Chun-Li and possibly Edmond Honda based on some of his hand-strikes and grappling.”

The tallest man growled and the scientist looked up at him briefly before resuming.

“The fact that he is a magical could be problematic, however. Much of our brainwashing technology is reverse-engineered from magical knowledge combined with your own abilities, my Lord, but since Magicals can control others, they must have developed ways to counter that control by now. My main contact has been rather… reticent about such matters, but the test subject he sent my way was very informative in his own way. Speaking of, my lord, we are almost ready for the next round of infusions to aid you in regaining your health.”

“…excellent work, Doctor.”

“I live only to serve you, my Lord.”

“…go.”

The three men all bowed, then retreated down the illuminated path even as the light illuminating the throne faded. As the door closed, the last thing they saw in the pitch-black room was a pair of slightly-purple glowing eyes watching them depart, eyes that lacked pupil or iris.

Or any hint of either compassion or mercy.

Only a merciless desire for power and control.

Chapter Text

The mansion owned by the Patil family was large, yet it lacked most of the flourishes and impossibilities that marked most wizarding homes that Harry had seen pictures of. The walls were mainly composed of large blocks of sandstone surrounding large windows and the front door was half again the size of a normal door, yet the building was at first glance, nothing more than a muggle mansion with a half-dozen surrounding buildings, including the large garage that the chaffeur had just pulled the admittedly luxurious passenger van into.

The side door slid open and Harry climbed out, turning to offer his hand to first Parvati and then Padma, who had been sat opposite him on the hour-long drive. Before he could move to collect his suitcase (which Ken had purchased for him and which had arrived enchanted so the inside was many times larger than the outside suggested), a couple of footmen appeared almost out of nowhere and began unloading the cases.

“This way, Harry!” Padma called as she moved to a sliding glass door in the corner of the garage, one that seemed to lead into a small room. The door slid open as they approached and Harry blinked at the sight of a staircase descending to a landing, where it doubled back while still going down.

“All the buildings are connected by tunnels.” Padma explained as they descended the stairs. “It helps when the weather’s cold, wet or snowing.”

“They’re also enchanted so that they’re shorter on the inside than they are on the outside.” Parvati continued as they reached the bottom. “The change isn’t too much, just enough to make them easier to use while still being muggle-safe.”

“Nice.” Harry admitted as they walked through the underground corridor and past several pieces of artwork. Rather than landscapes or portraits, these were pictures of transportation, ranging from a painting of a cart being pulled by a large horse to a Rolls Royce gliding down a gently-curving road.

“You’ve noticed the pictures.” Padma giggled. “Grandfather chose them when he had the mansion built, they’re used instead of signs for the tunnels.”

“Vehicles for the garage, pond and seaside landscapes for the swimming pool, horses for the stables, that kind of thing.” Parvati confirmed as they reached the end of the tunnel and started up another flight of stairs. “It extends through the house, when we were young, we navigated by the pictures.”

“That is one reason why I selected them.” An elderly but still strong voice caused both girls to sprint ahead with squeals of joy. Harry half-jogged after them and emerged into a large hall. While part of him noted that the room was surrounded by balconies with stairs rising up on each side and that the roof was made of glass set into a steel frame, most of his attention was on the white-haired man who was returning the Patil twin’s hugs. Finally, they backed away slightly and the man turned to look at Harry, leaning on a polished wooden cane.

“So, at last we meet, Heir Black.” He said gravely, then he smiled slightly. “Welcome to Sastri House, Harry Potter. My name is Pantajali Patil, but my friends here in England call me Pat.”

Harry blinked as several lessons floated into his mind, then he bowed. “It is an honour to meet you, Paterfamilias Patil.”

“Bah! Formality is only for formal occassions. You’re here as a friend of my grand-daughters.” Pantajali chuckled. “Come, we have a light lunch waiting for us and I have to hear about all the mischief that these two have got up to and not told us about.”

“Grandfather!” Both girls protested and Pantajali’s chuckled turned into a full laugh.

“Go and show our guest where he is staying over the holiday, then we are having lunch in the Orangery. Go on, scamps.”

Harry felt his hands being grabbed, then he was pulled out of the large room by the blushing twins.

.

.

Remus flinched as the flames that had transported them to the Indian village dissipated, only for a wave of heat to slam into him as if it were an hammer.

“How are you not affected?” He hissed to Snape even as Fawkes rose into the air and vanished in another swirl of music and fire.

“There are potions require hot and humid conditions in order to brew successfully.” Severus noted blandly as Remus quickly removed his jacket. “I have runes sewn into my clothes so that I am unaffected by such matters.”

Remus shook his head, then looked round. “So, where’s Dhalsim?”

“Here.”

Remus would deny to his dying day that he screamed like a little girl as the Yoga Master spoke from just behind them. His denial would be reinforced by Severus’ insistence that he had not been surprised either.

“This way.”

“What the… did he just… how?” Remus panted as Severus picked himself up from where he had fallen over.

“I do not know either.” The Potions Master admitted.

“Come!”

.

Remus paused, staring at the Temple ahead of him and Severus glanced at him curiously. “What?”

“This place, it feels…” Remus shook his head, fighting to put the sensations into words. “It feels almost like Hogwarts, only more. Much, much more. And it’s watching us…”

“It is.” Dhalsim confirmed, half-turning to rest his blank gaze onto Remus. “Interesting that you are able to sense it to such a degree… this way.”

As they entered the temple, a mist swirled around them, then they emerged out of it into a room with a raised platform. Dhalsim motioned to Severus.

“Wait here. Contemplate all you were, are and hope to be for you shall be faced with how others have come to see you.”

Severus nodded, his face showing none of the confusion that Dhalsim’s statement had caused and sat down on the stone platform, crossing his legs. The room seemed to muffle all sound, even the thunk of the door closing behind the Yoga Master and the Werewolf, then the mist around the platform thickened and swelled into a wall which opened before him like a pair of gates, revealing an approaching figure, one whose long red hair seemed to trail behind her as if she were underwater and whose green eyes seemed almost to glow.

“Lily!” Severus gasped as he rose to his feet in shock.

“Severus.” The voice of the woman that Snape had adored sounded cold and distant. “We have much to discuss…”

.

Remus looked round curiously as Dhalsim led him into a room almost identical to the one they had just left the Potions Master in.

“Be seated.” Dhalsim folded himself into a sitting position as he spoke, although Remus could see that there was at least a foot of empty air between him and the stone. Swallowing, Remus managed to seat himself.

“You have fought the curse inflicted upon you for many years.” Dhalsim noted. “You have faced most of your flaws, conquered most of the patterns that would have held you back. Some still remain and your dislike of conflict has led to an ever-deepening fear of commitment, but you could easily have been so much worse than you are this day.
“Now, however, you must face one final challenge. The curse you fight, you must change. You have seperated it from you, now you must reach through the walls you have created and take the power of the curse. Once you have done that, I shall be able to remove the remnants of it from you.”

As Dhalsim spoke, the mist rose around them, thickening and swirling.

“Face your fear and together, we shall subdue the beast, taming it that you may call upon its power without the hatred that has infused it until now!”

A snarling growl echoed from the mist.

“Prepare yourself! Remember who you are!”

.

The roiling walls of mist slowly dissipated until they had returned to the original light wisps, but Severus didn’t notice the change.

He knelt motionless on the dias, his head bowed and the stone around him speckled with tears.

“Severus Snape, it is time. Show me your arm.”

Severus lifted his left arm and Dhalsim gently slid the sleeve up to reveal Voldemort’s symbol.

“This will hurt.”

“Do I deserve any less for what I have done?” Snape rasped, another tear hitting the floor. “I have betrayed everyone I cared about… I have become like my father and I do not know how to return to who I was from what I have become…”

“There is always a path to atonement, but the choice to walk it must be yours.” Dhalsim’s voice was quieter and softer. “You are damaged, Severus Snape. Broken. You will never be as you once were, but with time and effort, you may rebuild yourself anew in the form of your choosing.”

Severus paused. “You mean…? Even for one such as me?”

“The path will be harsh, long and difficult, but without the burden of the shackle dragging you down, you may yet achieve redemption.”

Severus shook his head. “I don’t know… how to…”

“Then once you have been freed from the control of the one who guided you into darkness, we shall talk. Are you ready to proceed?”

“I am.” Severus didn’t move, but his voice was suddenly filled with determination. “I have been a puppet for too long.”

“Then let us cut the strings which let others control you.”

.

.

Harry paused in the middle of his usual morning routine as a knock sounded on the door of the guest room he had been assigned, a room that was significantly larger than the dormitory at Hogwarts.

“Are you up?” A voice called through it and Hary grinned, then resumed his Kata.

“I’m up! You can come in.” he called as his hands flashed in a multi-strike pattern that Honda had coached him through and the door opened to reveal both Patil girls, their eyes widening as he moved to the next stage of his exercise. The duo remained silent as Harry spun and kicked on the spot, his feet describing arcs and lines around himself before he flipped into a handstand and spun on the spot, his feet spread wide as he performed an inverted hurricane kick.

As he flipped back to his feet, the twins started to clap.

“That was amazing!” Parvati cheered and Harry blushed slightly.

“You should see Aunt Chun-Li doing her Katas.” He half-protested. “She’s grace personified.”

“We saw her kicking trolls at Halloween.” Padma pointed out and Harry nodded in memory.

“Breakfast is being served soon.” Parvati regained control of the conversation. “Grandpa wants to talk to you again, you’ve really impressed him. Afterwards, we can walk around the grounds, then prepare for tonight’s ball.”

“He’s really impressed me.” Harry admitted, fragments of the previous afternoon’s conversation drifting through his mind as he marvelled once again at how the head of the Patil family had managed to interrogate him without it feeling like one. “Let me grab a fast shower and get changed first.”

Both girls glanced at each other, blushed, giggled and then somehow managed to pull each other out of Harry’s suite, closing the door behind them.

“…what was that all about?” Harry asked himself in confusion.

.

.

Harry supported Padma as she sagged into the chair beside her almost-as-exhausted sister.

“How are you still going?” Parvati enquired as Padma simply slumped into the embrace of the chair and Harry raised an eyebrow, then glanced across to where Ken Masters (clad in a perfectly-tailored silk suit) was gracefully dancing with Mrs Patil, then looked back at the girls.

“Point.” Parvati grumbled, having followed his glance. “You’ve been training in martial arts for years. Of course you have stamina to spare, enough to outlast both of us.”

To Harry’s confusion, Padma blushed at her sister’s comment.

“Heir Potter?”

Harry turned and bowed slightly to the elderly woman.

“I am he. May I ask your name?”

“Augusta Longbottom. You know my grandson.”

“Ah, Regent Longbottom!” Harry realized. “My apologies for not recognising you.”

The woman gave a regal nod. “Understandable. My grandson has told me quite a bit about you and your guardians are certainly interesting people. I do not often find myself associating with those who lack magic.”

“Before I began Hogwarts, I rarely associated with those who did have magic.” Harry replied and one corner of the elderly lady’s mouth quirked with amusement at the gentle chiding note in Harry’s voice.

“I find myself wondering about the relationship between the two who are your guardians…” She began, then paused as Harry shook his head.

“Ryu is my Guardian, Ken is… I think Uncle describes it best. He and Ryu studied Ansatsuken together, sparring with each other every day, pushing each other to do better. Ken-Sensei once said that he and Ryu were brothers from different parents.”

.

“It would seem your nephew has outlasted my daughters.” Mrs Patil giggled as Ken expertly turned with her in such a way that to an observer, she would have appeared to be gliding smoothly across the ballroom floor. “They’re both taken with him.”

“I don’t think he’s developed enough to think of them that way yet.” Ken replied quietly, pitching his voice so that they would not be overheard. “He’s quite skilled, though.”

“An Animagus, a Parselmouth, a warrior and one who has been taught by the legendary Dhalsim.” Mrs Patil agreed. “All he really needs is a hidden legacy of some sort to make him absolutely perfect to my two.”

Ken chuckled, but his dance partner glanced up at him curiously. “What?”

“Have you looked into the Potter family tree? About who they were before they became the Potters?” Ken prompted, earning a small head-shake. “Tell me, does the name Peverell ring any bells?”

Ken somehow managed not to laugh at the look of absolute shock that crossed her face.

“…really?”

“Really.” Ken confirmed. “I had some of my people do the research for me, as well as a few other things yet to be revealed.”

“You’ve just piqued my interest.”

“I know.”

.

“Your son is a credit to you.” Pat noted as he accepted a drink from a passing waiter (who had been hired for the ball). “You should be proud of him.”

“I am.” Ryu replied, shifting slightly and the older man gave him an amused look.

“Still not used to the suit?”

“I prefer my Gi.” Ryu half-complained, running a finger round his collar. “I know that this suit is designed to let me fight if needed, but… it really isn’t what I’m used to. It feels like it’s trying to constrict me.”

The duo watched as Ken swept past gracefully, Mrs Patil laughing at something that he had said and Pat tilted his head slightly.

“I’m not judging, but…”

“Brothers.” Ryu interrupted him, knowing exactly where the query was headed. “We’re brothers in everything bar blood.”

“Ah, I had wondered.”

Ryu sighed. “You are nowhere near the first. I have no idea why anyone would think he and I were lovers.”

Pat’s eyes creased in amusement. “Indeed.”

As the older man chuckled, Ryu pointedly turned away, something that amused the Patriarch even more.

.

.

Albus Dumbledore blinked as the door to his office opened to reveal a hallway on the other side that was not the one that should be there under normal circumstances. Before he could do more than start the hand-flex that would cause his wand to be expelled from his wrist-holster and into his waiting fingers, two men staggered through the door which swung shut behind them, then bounced open slightly to reveal the normal landing and the first part of the spiral staircase.

“Ah, Remus, Severus.” He smiled, hiding his surprise behind an avuncular mask. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

“Book and goblet.” Severus stated, causing Albus’ eyebrows to rise in a silent inquiry as to the context behind the apparent non-sequitur. “Dhalsim said that you would understand. A book and a goblet.”

“The final two anchors.” Albus breathed almost reverently, then his gaze sharpened. “Did he manage to…?”

Severus pulled up his left sleeve, turning his arm to reveal unblemished skin while Remus seemed to ripple into the form of a wolf, then back to his human form.

“…incredible!”

.

.

“Hey, kid, wake up, it’s presents time!” Ken called as he burst in through the door to the guest suite Harry was in, then he paused and pouted at the sight before him. “Already up, I see.”

Harry flashed a quick grin at him as he moved through the morning Kata in the dawnlight shining through the window and Ken leaned against the door jamb, watching him with an experts eye.

“Very good.” He noted. “I admit, I thought that Ryu might be going too fast, but… he was right.”

“Right about what?” Harry asked, then yelped in surprise as Ken grabbed his arm and pulled him into the corridor.

“Come on, we’re assembling in the Hall.”

“Ken-Sensei!” Harry half-protested as the laughing man swung him up and over his shoulders before accelerating. At the end of the corridor, rather than turn and go down the stairs, Ken simply hurdled the bannister and threw Harry to the waiting Ryu who effortlessly fielded the ballistic boy and set him on his feet even as Ken landed soundlessly.

“Is that… normal for you?” The Pyjamas-and-morning-robe-clad Pat asked from where he was ensconced in a throne-like chair next to a pile of presents and Ryu shook his head.

“Not normally. Ken is usually more mature than this.”

“It was impressive to watch, though.” Pat admitted as Parvati, Padma and their parents descended on the other side of the large room, the younger girls moving to flank Harry and gently pull him to sit between them on one of the three sofas arranged facing Pat, much to the amusement of all the adults present.

Once everyone was seated, Pat produced his wand and waved it at the pile of presents, causing the first one to rise and hover in front of him.

“Well, this one is from Harry to Parvati.” He commented as the parcel floated across to the excited girl. “And one for Padma as well.”

Both girls eagerly tore open the wrappings, then gasped as they held up the scarves that had been inside. Each scarf was embroidered at each end with the symbol of their Hogwarts House set on a checkerboard pattern in the respective colours and with tassels on the ends.

“Thank you!”

Harry managed not to flinch at the stereo squealing, but he could see from the way that Ryu and Ken’s eyes creased in amusement that they had caught his reaction nonetheless.

“And this one is from someone named Chun-Li to Harry.” A parcel floated into Harry’s hands and he carefully opened it to reveal a folded fabric that he unrolled, shifting his grip so that he ended up holding a Hanfu-style coat in a rich, deep red with golden edging and embroidery.

“She has style.” Ken noted with an approving smile.

“And excellent taste!” Parvati added as she lightly stroked one sleeve.

.

“And I think that’s all the presents.” Pat announced, then he gave Ryu a curious look as the martial artist rose, pulling a small package out from inside his Gi.

“I have one more to give.” He declared and passed the package to Harry, who opened it. A battered, worn and slightly ragged length of black fabric landed in Harry’s lap and his eyes widened as he stared at it.

“Tou-san… this…”

“What is that?” Parvati asked and Harry held it up, revealing it to be a long belt.

“This is… you mean?”

“You have progressed to the point where both Ken and I agree that you are proficient in the basics of Ansatsuken.” Ryu stated. “Congratulations, Shodan Hari.”

Ryu staggered back a step as Harry slammed into him, hugging him and he patted the young boy on his back.

“But… shouldn’t he have a new belt?” Padma asked.

“That is the belt that Ryu received when he reached the rank of Shodan.” Ken explained quietly. “He received it from our Sensei. For him to pass it to Harry…”

All the other adults nodded in understanding.

.

.

“Here it is. I had no idea that it had been taken from your temple.”

“It was taken in the time of my Master by the first of his Apprentices, one who sought power without understanding the price. Soon it will be returned to where it should be.”

“And my son?”

“The healing went well, they shall awaken within the hour.”

Chapter Text

As he sat down in the train carriage, Harry was still feeling the echoes of the amazement at being recognised as being trusted to know when to (and more importantly, when not to) use the Ansatsuken techniques that he had learned over the years. At the same time, however, the sudden weight of responsibility that came with it seemed to be far heavier than he had expected.

“You look like someone transfigured your robes into granite.” A familiar voice noted and Harry looked up to see Neville Longbottom in the doorway.

“Sorry, just… Have you ever got just what you wanted and didn’t know how to react?”

Neville sighed and stepped in to the compartment, sliding the door closed behind him and leaning on it. “Oh yeah. Dhalsim made a visit to my parents in exchange for something that was sealed in my family vaults. On the wand hand, I have my parents back. On the other hand…”

Neville sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I only had my Grandmother’s stories to go on as to what they were like and… she wasn’t exactly lying, but how she remembered them and how they really are… there’s been a lot of shouting and arguing between her and my parents. Especially when mum found out about… never mind. Merlin, I never thought I’d be so happy to leave my family behind and head back to Hogwarts.”

“Sounds rough.” Harry winced.

“Yeah, it has been.” Neville agreed wryly.

“So… how are they?”

“Mentally, pretty much healed. Physically? Being in a hospital bed for nearly ten years has done a number on them. We currently have a trio of Healers in the manor to make sure that they don’t over-exert themselves and take the potions they need on schedule.”

“Sounds… hectic.”

Neville nodded, then smiled. “Yeah, but at least I have them back… huh?”

The door rattled as someone tried to open it and Neville jolted, then moved away to let whoever was on the other side open it.

“Hey, can I join you?” Dean asked. “The last three compartments had giggling girls in them…”

Neville and Harry looked at each other, then burst out laughing with Neville waving for Dean to enter.

“So, Neville got his parents back and I got recognised as being competent in Ansatsuken.” Harry noted. “How did your holiday go?”

Dean completely missed the bench and fell onto the floor, then glared at Harry.

“Neville… you… Oh come on! You can’t just drop something like that on me without an explanation!”

“Sure he can!” Neville chortled as Dean picked himself up and flopped down onto the bench, glowering at them as he did so. “He just did, didn’t he?”

“Prats.” Dean grumbled, causing the other two boys to laugh even more, then he finally sat back with a slight smile.

“Okay, can you tell me again what you did but with actual details, if you don’t mind?”

.

The juddering of the carriage heralded the beginning of their return journey to Hogwarts and all three boys fell silent as they watched the walls of King’s Cross going past, then vanishing to reveal the London skyline slowly scrolling past.

“I’ll never get bored of that view.” Dean finally stated quietly, then he grinned. “I wonder how the Purebloods react to seeing so much evidence of what non-Magicals can do?”

Neville shrugged. “I think most of them just ignore it.”

“Ignore what?” Hermione asked from the door, where she and the Patil twins were standing.

“The view.” Harry replied as he glanced at the other two boys, then waved for the girls to join them. Hermione took the corner while Parvati and Padma flanked Harry, much to Neville and Dean’s amusement.

“Hey, leave some girls for the rest of us.” Dean laughed. “You’re making us look bad.”

“Be fair to him, he is a film star.” Hermione pointed out. “And one who does his own stunts.”

Everyone looked at her and Hermione blushed slightly. “My parents rented the Dawn Fist trilogy for us to watch over the holiday. How did your father do that ghost-scene?”

“Which one?” Harry asked curiously. “The back-to-back or the spectral kata?”

“…both?”

“He rolled into and out of shot for the conversation one. I was to one side watching and he timed each roll perfectly for when Fei Long was blocking the camera’s view of him.
“The Kata was harder, Fei Long and I had to do the Kata twice, doing it exactly the same way each time and from the same point while Tou-san only did it once with us. After that, it was all the film technicians checking things matched up enough to fade his scenes into and out of the routine. Not something I could do, the attention to detail needed is… well, it’s insane. A single mismatched frame could easily have wrecked the entire sequence.”

“Sounds like certain rituals that were mentioned in Hogwarts: A History.” Hermione noted, earning some quizzical looks. “You haven’t read it?”

“Not all of it.” Padma admitted.

“…oh.”

“Hello, can I join you?” Ron asked from the door, his expression looking rather haunted. “My brothers are up to mischief already and they’ve persuaded Lee to get his tarantula out again…”

Ron shuddered. “I hate spiders.”

.

Draco Malfoy sat slumped in the corner of the carriage that he had managed to claim. While Vince and Gregory were still there to back him up, both boys were fully aware that after the end of the year, they would no longer be beholden to him and would thus be able to choose who to follow while he studied in Durmstrang.

Pansy was elsewhere, having already abandoned him due to his imminent departure meaning that any lingering power he may have had in Slytherin was effectively useless in the long run and thus she had begun the process of seeking out a new patron to offer her support to.

Theodore Nott had briefly paused by the door, smirked, and then moved on without a word. While part of Draco was relieved that his fellow (for now) yearmate hadn’t decided to gloat over Draco’s fall from power, he was fully aware that Nott was probably already approaching others in preparation for moving into the position that Draco had been dislodged from.

Zabini was the most obvious candidate as Nott’s rival, but the son of the Widow Witch preferred to remain in the shadows rather than seeking to take the lead, a position that was far less risky but also had far less in the way of potential rewards.

Daphne Greengrass was the other main potential replacement as the leader of the First Years, but her friendship with the known half-blood Tracy Davis had tainted her somewhat in the eyes of the more traditional students.

Not that it was very important to him now. Not with his future plans shattered beyond repair.

His hand clenched into a fist and he growled.

Damn that halfblood and those who had taught him that wandless magic!

It was all his fault and one day, not soon but one day, Draco Malfoy would get his vengeance and reclaim the Black Fortune for the glory of the Malfoy line.

One day…

One day he would see that damned Potter taken down…

.

“So jealous.” Ron grumbled in an amused tone as all three girls sat opposite him, stroking Harry’s fur as the blissed-out half-grown tiger slumbered, stretched across their laps.

“What?” Hermione looked up from where she had been stroking between Harry’s ears.

“You know…” Neville mused, “My parents need something to distract them from arguing with Gran. Maybe I could ask them to look in the Longbottom Library for details on how to become an Animagus? Seeing how Harry is currently enjoying the advantages of being one, I find myself wondering if I could gain a similar skill. Anyone interested in joining in?”

“That would be awesome!”Dean perked up. “Any chance you could share it? It would be great to be able to show my family proper magic that doesn’t need a wand.”

Neville shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

.

.

“Welcome back, one and all!” Dumbledore announced with a huge smile after the majority of the people in the Great Hall had finished their desserts and were relaxing with a hot beverage of their choice. “I do hope that you all had an enjoyable Yuletide with your friends and families. Now that you have all returned, there are a few minor announcements that I must make.

“First of all, I would like to congratulate Hagrid for passing his first grading test in the noble art of Sumo!”

Harry rose to his feet, applauding loudly, an action which was repeated by well over two-thirds of the students while Hagrid blushed behind his beard at the attention being sent his way.

“Secondly, I wish to congratulate Professor Lupin for finally managing to become a fully-recognised Animagus!”

Harry’s eyes weren’t the only ones that widened as Remus Lupin stood up, bowed slightly and then rippled into the form of a grey wolf before turning back.

“A skill which I never managed to achieve, unfortunately, but now we have two staff members and a student who have this rare ability and hopefully, more will follow their example.”

“Who’s the student?” One of the older Gryffindor boys asked, only for those near him to look at him as if he was a total idiot. “What? What?”

As the renewed applause died down and everyone returned to their seats, Dumbledore glanced at the other members of staff before continuing.

“Due to a donation by the Masters Foundation, courtesy of Associate Battle-Teacher Ken Masters…” The Blond in question stood up, bowed and sat down again, “Hogwarts is proud to be hosting the first Potions Mastery Program under Professor Snape. You may have noticed our two new staff members, Assistant Professor Genevieve Whitebranch and Assistant Professor Archibald Smythe, who will be studying under Professor Snape to achieve their Potions Mastery, but will also take over teaching the lower years as they do so. Assistant Professor Smythe will be teaching the first three years while Assistant Professor Whitebranch, who is closer to her Mastery, will be teaching the fourth and fifth. Professor Snape will remain the teacher for the NEWT-level students.”

The explosion of cheering from the younger years caused the Great Hall to seem to tremble and Dumbledore stood patiently while the celebrations slowly died down.

“You have the best uncle ever!” Ron managed to shout/whisper to Harry, who nodded in agreement. “Four entire years without the Greasy Bat!”

The noise finally quietened and Dumbledore resumed speaking. “I agree that the expansion of our potions department is indeed worth celebrating, potions are one of the more useful things that we learn in this fine establishment. And now that we have all the excitement out of our systems, I do believe it is time for you all to return to your common areas, catch up with your friends and then get a good night’s rest. So welcome back and have pleasant dreams.”

.

As they watched the students leave, Minerva leaned slightly towards Remus. “Will ye be joinin’ in on Saturday?”

“Joining… in?”

“Aye. As an Animagus, ye’ll be wanting tae use yer new shape and young Potter is still getting used to his own, although he has made quite a bit of progress. Having someone else to run with won’t hurt in the slightest.”

“I… I think that it might be a good move. Thank you.”

.

Draco tried to keep himself from snarling at the other Slytherins as they headed down to the Dungeons, but it was hard. His rightful place as their superior was lost to him and already the effects were showing. While his yearmates were still prevented from actually acting towards him due to his minions, the upper years had lost any sign of the respect they had for him as Scion Malfoy and were sneering at him.

It was totally intolerable!

Normally, he would inform his father about things like this, but Lord Malfoy had been very strict about Draco needing to learn how to stand up for himself.

And that he could not devote every moment to bailing Draco out as he had many things that he himself needed to accomplish.

Draco paused.

What was his father up to?

.

Lucius Malfoy sat in the almost-sinfully-comfortable chair behind his hand-built one-of-a-kind desk, frowning as he contemplated what he knew and what his agents had told him.

On his desk, atop the sheets of parchment and folders that contained but a tiny fraction of the information that he had amassed over the previous decades and which allowed him to control most of the political players, was a small, plain-looking book emblazoned with the name T. M. Riddle. While in and of itself, the book was unexceptional, it somehow radiated a subtle aura that invited others to use it while at the same time, for those like himself who bore the mark of the quest for power on his left arm, it also felt of potential power waiting to be taken and commanded by one superior even to himself.

And Lucius knew what it was, what it was intended to do and what it could achieve.

Sliding open a secret drawer, Lucius slid the diary away.

While it was a powerful trump card, it was one that could be played only once.

And for the greatest effect, it would need to be played in conjunction with other assets, using favours that he had acquired with coin other than cash.

But if played correctly, it would be the first step in returning magical society back to how it should be.

Pulling out a folder, he opened it and placed his wand against one page.

“Doctor Senoh…”

.

.

“’Arry! Padma! Parvati! Come in.”

Hagrid waved as the trio paused at the gate in the wall surrounding Hagrid’s garden. Harry opened the gate and waved the two girls through before closing it behind him, causing Fang, who had been bouncing towards them, to slow to a stop, then walk off in a huff.

“Don’ mind Fang.” Hagrid chuckled as he strolled over to them. “’E just wants ta get inta the curin’ shed again. Harry, thanks fer that Kotatsu you and yer Dad had made fer me, right useful it is. Fang loves sleeping underneath it.”

“Kotatsu?” Padma asked.

“It’s a low table with a blanket attached to it.” Harry explained. “A heater is set underneath and the warm air keeps you warm. It works best if you’re wearing a Hakama or Kimono, although robes work too. You can’t use it with chairs, though…”

“True ‘nuff.” Hagrid agreed. “’Tis right ‘andy fer doin’ stuff like Mahjong an’ so on. So, can I offer you some tea?”

“That would be brilliant.” Harry smiled up at the half-giant.

.

.

The first potions lesson under Professor Smythe was quite different from those under Professor Snape and Harry looked at the pieces of paper that Smythe had handed out.

“The first sheet is reference books that you are strongly advised to read.” Smythe stated as he returned to his desk. “Potions Master Snape showed me where they are listed on the board just next to Miss Pince’s desk, but since she dislikes students congregating near her work area, it’s a safe bet that most of you didn’t know that the message board existed up until today.”

Harry was not the only one who nodded in agreement.

“Professor Vector is having her sixth-year students creating special duplicate boards that will show everything placed on the main board with the intention that one will be placed in each Common Room and one by the entrance to the Great Hall, thus allowing for you all to keep up with what’s happening and what may be required of you.

“Now, rather than trying to brew a potion, let us instead go through the foundational knowledge of Potions, starting with the Bases, the liquids used to start potions off. There are several different categories of Base, the most common being Water, although there are several different types of Water such as Seawater, Distilled Water, Spring Water…”

.

“That was… Why didn’t Snape ever try to cover things like that with us?” Ron complained as they left the potions lab.

“He’s too skilled at potions.” Harry shrugged. “It’s so natural for him that he can’t understand that other people might actually struggle, so from his viewpoint, anyone who doesn’t reach the level he expects is acting up rather than not managing.”

Ron wasn’t the only one to stare at him and Harry shrugged. “Uncle Ken explained it to me a couple of days ago. He had some of his staff investigate and even track down the previous Potions Teacher, Horace Slughorn. Recruited him, too.”

“What?”

“As soon as I come of age, I’ll be given a full membership in the new Golden Slug Association. Ken owns it and the building  it’ll be located in, but Slughorn is nominally in charge of it.”

“Sounds… interesting.” Ron mused.

“It’s still being built.” Harry shrugged. “Apparently, Ken-Sensei wants to have it looking like a traditional Muggle English castle, at least on the surface. Inside, it’ll have all the standard mod-cons, including telephones, satellite television capabilities… things like that but all hardened to work in a magical environment. It helps that it’s in a valley that was hidden centuries ago. The Witch who owned it sold it in exchange for a suite and board in the castle for as long as she lives, she’s over a hundred years old and the last of her clan.”

“Quite a bargain for her, then.” Ron mused.

“Apparently, she’s looking forwards to meeting new people.” Harry added.

.

.

Harry ducked underneath the belly of the surprised wolf, his mouth quirking in a feline smile as he heard Remus oofing from McGonogall bouncing off his flank. An instant later, however, the Deputy Headmistress landed on his back, a set of teeth pressed against his neck and Harry obediently flopped down onto the ground.

Evasion cunning improving

Harry blinked at the pride that infused McGonogall’s comment, then she vanished and he bounced up onto his paws, only to be bowled over by a high-speed wolf erupting out of the bushes as it tried to tag the fleeing tabby.

Shaking his head as he managed to pull himself back up to all-fours, Harry paused as his ears twitched to catch the approaching noises, then leapt vertically as high as he could. A furry blur shot through the space he had been and then Harry found himself landing on (and instinctively holding onto) the lupine form of Remus who had been chasing McGonogall. The wolf screeched to a halt and slowly turned his head, fixing Harry with a quizzical eye.

“…mrrow?”

The following few minutes were blurred as Remus started leaping, spinning and twirling, then Harry was somersaulting through the air, only to land in a large set of hands.

“I gotcha.” Hagrid chuckled as he raised the dizzy tiger up, placing him across his shoulders. “Howsabout you rest fer a bit?”

Harry nodded, then closed his eyes and relaxed.

“Is he okay?” Remus asked as he walked over, having reverted to his human form and Hagrid nodded.

“Yep, jes’ tuckered out. Hang on a mo.”

Carefully moving so as to not dislodge the sleeping tiger, Hagrid pulled out a long scarf from one of his many pockets and flipped it over one shoulder in a practiced move, managing to slide it under Harry’s forepaws. Tying the ends off, he slid Harry into the improvised sling/hammock.

“I’ll ‘old onto him fer now.” Hagrid rumbled with a smile. “Takes me back to when e’ was jest a baby and Lily asked me ter ‘old ‘im fer a while. Lil’ tyke jest dozed right off…”

Chapter Text

“So, now that we have all had at least one class with every year since our students returned, are there any new issues which have arisen?” Albus asked, looking round at the assembled teachers. “No? Not even the Weasley Twins acting up again?”

“Actually, I’ve made a deal with them.” Remus offered. “If they can get at least an EE on every OWL they take with at least five each and twelve between them, I will walk them through the same Animagus procedure that James and Sirius used.”

“I had wondered why they had suddenly improved.” Snape mused. “I had strongly suspected from their pranks that they were better than they acted in class and now… now I know that I was correct. Although, it does make me wonder…”

Severus paused, causing the other staff members to exchange glances as they silently tried to decide who would ask the obvious question.

“How did they end up in Gryffindor if they were already that sneaky?” Remus asked, obviously following his logic and Snape nodded to show that the former werewolf was indeed following the same mental path as he had. “In retrospect, that is a very scary thought indeed…”

“At least the extra studying they’ll have to do will cut back on the time available to come up with pranks.” Remus offered, only for Filius to shake his head.

“The more they learn, the more they’ll be able to do…”

Remus wasn’t the only one who winced at the thought.

“And I thought the Custard Incident was bad enough…” Professor Vector whimpered.

“Everywhere…” Professor Sprout shuddered.

.

.

Amelia Bones watched with a face of stone as the last of the Auror Trainees managed to stagger out of the training hall, then she turned to where Alistair Moody and Ryu were discussing something in quiet voices. After a moment, Mad-Eye turned and grinned at her, his scars twisting it into something that would have made a lesser person flee.

“When this lot graduate, they’ll be far better in battle than most of the useless trash we have now.” Moody noted as he clomped over to her. “There won’t be as many Pureblood-superiority types either. You saw how the Muggleborn and most of the Halfblood trainees were doing compared to the Purebloods? That’s because those raised outside our world tend not to wilfully limit themselves to magic and it shows!”

“Those from the older families did tend to be among the first to collapse.” Madam Bones noted with a tinge of disapproval in her voice. “Mostly.”

“Aye, there are some whose families insist on staying healthy as it aids with magic, but not many.” Moody shrugged. “Same goes for the other side too, of course. Used to make my work easier than it could have been. Hold on. Ryu! I’ve got this!”

Pulling out his wand, Moody waved it in a flickering pattern that caused the crash-mats covering half the floor to roll themselves up and move to the corner, where they jumped into the air and flattened out as they fell, forming a neat pile. The sandbags rose on their chains, binding themselves against the rafters and the pottery jars that had been being used to increase the grip strength of several trainees rose into the air and floated to rest beside the mats, the water in them flowing out and vanishing as they settled.

“Thanks!”

Moody nodded back at him, then turned back to Amelia.

“So, as I was saying, this class will be better suited to taking down villains even if only because they’ll be able to move quicker and last longer. It’s something that I used to be able to do before time started catching up to me.”

“And now you let others do the moving.” Ryu joked as he joined them.

“Especially the young and naïve.” Moody chuckled and Ryu briefly pretended to be offended.

“Ready to head back to your friend’s mansion?” Moody asked and Ryu nodded.

“Yeah, we’ve got another acquaintance visiting who needs to be warned about Bison. Chap named Deejay, he’s a kickboxer. He almost got caught up in the whole thing last time around. Guile and Chun-Li alerted him that time and Chun-li gave us his contact info. I also need to call gramps, he said he’s got some news for me.”

“Sounds suspicious.” Moody grumbled.

“You think everything is suspicious.” Ryu noted and Moody shrugged.

“It usually is. Speaking of, where’s your brother-in-all-but-blood gone off to?”

.

“Um… hi?” Sirius stared at the large man looming in front of him. The dark-skinned man simply raised an eyebrow back at him and Sirius briefly wondered if accompanying Ken on his mission had been such a good idea after all.

Then again, he had been getting bored, so…

“Mister Dudley Blue-Bankerson?” Ken enquired and the well-clad man before them nodded.

“I am he. And I recognise you, Mister Masters. It is an honour to meet you. May I ask whom this gentleman with you is?”

“Sirius Black, my nephew’s godfather.” Ken replied and Dudley’s eyebrows rose enough that the monacle that he had over his left eye dropped, bouncing on its chain against his cummerband until, displaying incredible dexterity given that he was wearing boxing gloves, he scooped it up and re-seated it.

“Sirius Black? Are you related to Arcturius Black perchance?”

“My grandfather…” Sirius managed.

“Ah, my condolences on his passing.”

“You knew him?” Sirius asked in rising shock and Dudley nodded.

“Indeed. It was he who gave me the loan I needed to launch my career to rebuild my family’s finances after he and I worked together to dispatch some masked ruffians attempting to kill him.”

“I… never knew.” Sirius marvelled. “He never mentioned it…”

“Probably because your mother would have tried to kill him for associating with those she saw as lesser beings.” Dudley sounded almost regretful. “I try not to speak ill of the dead, but…”

“Walberga was… Walberga.” Sirius sighed, one hand rubbing the left side of his chest in memory. “I try not to remember her.”

“I was unaware that you knew of…” Ken paused as he tried to phrase it in such a way that if he was wrong, it would not give away the secret and Dudley glanced at him.

“I am from an old family and one whose wealth I have rebuilt. Money may talk, but it also listens.” A quick grin flashed across his face. “And my great-aunt was a Witch. Sadly she died without children, but she was an amazing babysitter for me when I was but knee-high to a horse. So, may I enquire as to your purpose here today?”

“A warning… from the non-magical side.” Ken replied. “Have you heard of an organisation called Shadowlaw?”

“I have.” Dudley grumbled. “I had heard that they had lost their leader in a fight. Have they gained a new one?”

“The old one returned.” Ken growled. “Ryu and I blasted him straight through his plane and he managed to survive long enough for his people to get him medical treatment.”

“Well, I have to admit that that sounds… annoying.” Dudley agreed. “Very well, I have contacts in various places, I’ll arrange for the warning to be sent out. Is that brute Balrog still in Shadowlaw?”

“Along with Sagat, yes.” Ken supplied and Dudley frowned.

“Never met him, but I’ve heard of him. Muay Thai practitioner, if I recall correctly. I may need to do some extra sparring, just to be safe. Care for a spar sometime?”

Ken grinned and Sirius looked at them before shaking his head.

“Probably a good thing that Remus forced me to learn some more healing spells…”

“And would you object to my current student watching?” Dudley asked, looking past them. Ken and Sirius turned to follow his gaze which had settled on a boy about the same age as Harry jogging up. “Dudley.”

“Sir.” The boy replied as he came to a stop and began stretching.

“He’s Dudley as well?” Ken chuckled. “How do people tell you apart?”

“Aside from our skin colours?” The older Dudley chuckled. “Ken Masters, Sirius Black, this is my current apprentice, Dudley Dursley. His parents work for me, his mother’s the best secretary I’ve ever had and his father is surprisingly good at helping to run my business…”

.

“Wait… you mean that the family I rescued Hari from…” Ryu failed to sit himself with his normal grace, almost falling into the chair instead.

“Are working for Sir Dudley Blue-Bankerson.” Ken confirmed. “It’s why Sirius and I took so long to get back, I had to make a few calls and find out what had happened.”

“And?” Ryu prompted after a few minutes.

“They reported Harry missing within an hour of their son finally telling them what had happened.” Ken leaned forwards in his chair. “But the investigation was stopped by parties unknown. However, something happened that spooked them and they relocated, selling their home and moving. Vernon Dursley resigned from his job but one of his associates recommended him to Blue-Bankerson who was just starting up a new company as part of rebuilding his family’s financial resources. Petunia Dursley ended up as Blue’s secretary after helping sort out a complex timing problem and Dudley Dursley is learning boxing. It was fun watching him, he’s trying so hard to grow up to be like the older Dudley. He’s even got a monacle he practices wearing.”

“I… I’m not sure what to think.” Ryu admitted. “I remember him as a bully.”

“Not any longer.” Ken shrugged. “He’s trying very hard to be the best he can be. When Blue-Bankerson gave him an approving nod, I thought the boy was about to explode from sheer joy.”

.

.

Parchment rustled in the office as Severus Snape examined an essay, a sneer on his face as he used a quill dipped in red ink to cross out entire paragraphs, correct spelling and insert demands for expanations or expansions. Finally putting it into the out-tray on his desk, he leaned back and pulled out his wand. Waving it, he watched as a large portrait of Hogwarts slid aside to reveal a dozen tubes set into and flush with the wall, each capped by a lens that showed a different view of the Slytherin Common Room, save for one that was focused on the stretch of wall in which the entrance to said common room was located.

The story behind the tubes still amused him, in a dark and cynical fashion. They had been installed by a former Head of House who had seen Muggle Periscopes but hadn’t bothered to actually try to understand how they worked. Instead, he had quietly installed several pipes to see through, only to discover afterwards that the curves of the pipes meant that he couldn’t actually use them to watch what was happening, only to listen and even then, most of the sounds were faded or scrambled.

It was the next Head of House who had taken on the challenge, managing to use runes to change the inside of the tubes into being short and straight while still keeping the outside unchanged, then installing special lenses that prevented the students from using the tubes to spy on the office itself.

The tubes allowed him to keep an eye on what was happening without actually needing to lurk in the shadows of the common room and while they did not transmit sound, they let him spot movements indicitive of imminent violence, thus allowing him to intervene before spells were launched.

The fact that it had convinced many of his snakes that he was able to predict what they were planning to do, thus making them consider their actions carfully, was a happy bonus.

Now, his gaze was drawn to the lowest-left tube which was showing the image of the corner alcove which held two students. The larger (and older) student was one who had proven himself skilled at DADA but who had declared that he had plans of his own and would strike down any who tried to pull him into their own schemes. It had taken five students requiring the tender care of Madam Pomphrey to make the lesson stick, but the end result was that the sixth-year student was seen as the one and only true neutral in the House of Snakes, a fact that occasionally led to him being asked to act as an arbiter when schemes collided.

The other student was Draco Malfoy who had gravitated to the alcove so that he could study in relative safety, protected by the older student’s neutrality and the now-accepted tradition that the alcove was off-limits to any scheme, plot or attack.

Given that Malfoy no longer had any potential political power in the House of Snakes, it was no surprise that he had relocated there. The only thing that surprised Severus was that he hadn’t had to suggest that particular move to the pale-blond boy.

Perhaps Draco was finally applying his intelligence.

If only he had done so earlier…

.

.

“It’s confirmed.”

Guile sighed as Chun-Li spoke, his gaze moving to the view of the military base outside his window and the distant convoy of vehicles making their way out through the main gate.

“Damn it. I didn’t want to believe it, but…”

“Sagat has been spotted several times in the northern part of China and the south-east of Russia.” Chun-Li continued and Guile could almost see her irritated expression on the other end of the phone line. “We haven’t managed to track down Balrog yet…”

“And that bastard Vega?” Guile growled.

“All indications are that he is deceased.” Chun-li’s voice went darker. “Apparently killed by Sagat as punishment for failing to kill me. His mask was spotted on Sagat’s belt.”

Guile grunted in satisfied understanding. “So, Bison’s alive and still Shadowlaw’s leader. Sagat and Balrog are still loyal, but do we have any indication of who’s replaced Vega?”

“Not so far.” Chun-Li sighed. “The only leak we got from Shadowlaw… a leak that was… plugged very soon after, is that they’re waiting for the Fourth King to arrive.”

“Not a clue what that means.” Guile grumbled, turning away from the window and leaning back in his chair. “Not much to report on this end. I just hope that they haven’t found out about Harry’s people.”

“That… would be bad.”

“Gave me nightmares the first time I thought about it.” Guile admitted, glancing at the one non-family picture on his desk, a picture showing him and a barely-nine-years-old Harry, both in the stance that Guile defaulted to when fighting, although while Guile looked stern and focused, Harry was grinning hugely. “With the aid of Ken and Ryu, I’ve been in contact with both Dumbledore and a rather paranoid bastard named Alistair Moody. I’ve warned them about Shadowlaw and they’ve both agreed to keep an eye out. Moody’s passing the word to those he trusts in the DMLE and if they see anything, he’ll feed it back to us.”

“That’s good to hear. I’ve been checking in with the others we know of.” A chuckle suddenly echoed through the phone line. “You remember Hagrid? Well, Edmund Honda seems to have taken him on as an apprentice in Sumo and I saw him running Hagrid through the thousand-hand slap.”

“Someone Hagrid’s size… using Sumo… at competition level…” Guile shuddered. “Nope, not going to think about it.”

Chun-Li laughed again.

.

.

Doctor Senoh looked up at the portrait of the aristocratic white-haired man that was mounted in a frame that had been extended out from the cupboard that normally held it and a dozen other similar pictures.

“Lord Malfoy, I am pleased to announce that the project is going as well as can be expected. By midsummer, your request will be fulfilled.”

“Excellent news, Doctor.” The smooth voice sounded almost as clear as it would have been had the speaker actually been present in the lab, which was something that would Doctor Senoh would never have allowed, unless the theoretical visitor had been strapped to one of his worktables. “I have also come into ownership of a pair of Harpy Wings if you are interested…”

“A feather, maybe.” Senoh mused. “And a vial of blood. More for my collection than for any actual use, though.”

“All great men have a hobby.” Malfoy agreed smoothly. “I shall have a pair of feathers and a full vial sent to you with the next scheduled delivery. Good day, Doctor.”

The image stopped moving and Senoh hit the button that retracted the framed picture back into the storage alcove. Once the soundproofed panel had lowered into position to seal the alcove, Seno smirked in a manner that Malfoy would have reflected was remarkably similar to that of his old Master when he was plotting to smite his enemies.

“The Fourth King will be your unwitting gift to my Master, Lord Malfoy, and all your assets will be incorporated into Shadowlaw, to be used as my Master desires…”

Chapter Text

The impact echoed across the converted classroom and Harry tapped his foot three times on the ground the instant he confirmed that Hermione had managed to place him in a lock and that without resorting to actions that would cause injury, she had indeed trapped him. With a grin of triumph, Hermione released him and scrambled to her feet while Harry simply rolled backwards, pushing off with his hands to land lightly on his feet, a trick which Fei Long had carefully instructed him in and which he had used to great effect in the third film.

“How do you do that?” Hermione asked and Harry gave a small shrug.

“Experience?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, then stepped back and bowed to him, a bow which Harry returned.

“Well done.” Ken congratulated her and Hermione blushed with pleasure at the approval in his voice. “Alright… you and you, step up.”

Harry moved to the edge of the tatami and dropped into Seiza with the ease of long practice. Hermione knelt down and then shifted into the proper pose as the two boys who had been called up tried to wrestle each other to the floor.

“How do you feel?” Harry asked quietly and Hermione paused, shifting slightly.

“A bit tired, but in a good way.” She finally decided, reaching up to wipe some sweat from her brow.

“You’re lasting longer than your first time.” Harry noted and Hermione stuck out her tongue at him. “What? It’s true.”

“I don’t need to be reminded of how unfit I used to be!” Hermione half-hissed at him, her comment mostly covered by a yell and thud as one of the boys finally managed to throw and pin the other. After a long moment, she looked around and gave a small giggle. “Of course, I think most of us were unfit back then, despite all the stairs we had to go up and down.”

“Stairs only really give the lower body a workout unless you make a point of pumping your arms too.” Harry murmured back at her, glancing briefly at the two girls who were glaring at each other even as they bowed. “Chun-Li’s daily workout at her dojo includes jogging up and down the stairs from the coast to her dojo. We counted them, there are three-hundred and twenty-two of them.”

“That would be going up and down the stairs in Macclesfield three times.” Hermione mused, then saw the questioning look that Harry was giving her. “One of my cousins lives there. There’s a landmark just opposite the train station called the hundred-and-eight steps.”

“I’ll have to mention it to her.” Harry chuckled, then winced as Ken waded in to end the hair-pulling squabble that the fight had rapidly degenerated into. “Wow. Sensei Honda would be very disappointed if he was in charge of those two.”

.

.

The Great Hall erupted in cheers as on the projector’s screen, Harry and Ken worked together to fight their way through the horde of minions between them and where Fei Long was tied to a metal frame in preparation for his execution. A hand-grab let Ken swing Harry around in a circle, the young boy’s feet flashing in a series of kicks that sent another wave of minions flying backwards, then the spin grew faster and Harry was sent into the air, his reflexes letting him almost dance across the dense crowd of minions until he backflipped off one and landed by Fei Long, a knife appearing in his hand and moving to cut one arm free even as Titan, the criminal overlord, rose from his hideously-ornate throne and charged into battle.

With one free arm, Fei Long managed to deflect the palm-strike sent at his face by the well-disguised Edmund Honda (who had been having the time of his life hamming it up as the villain), the impact breaking one of the metal bars and allowing him to slip his other arm free just in time to deflect the second strike. Harry dropped into a crouch and with two swipes of the knife, Fei Long was free once more, rolling out of the way of the two-handed hammer-punch, then spinning into a rising spiral kick that sent Titan staggering backwards.

“You won’t escape me!” Titan roared, flexing his muscles in such a way that the tailored suit jacket he was wearing almost exploded off his body to reveal the almost solid (fake) tattoos covering his back and sides. “I’ll flatten you and use your skin as a carpet! Prepare to be defeated!”

“No-one defeats him but me.” Ken declared as he landed by Fei Long, giving the shorter man a quick grin. “And that’ll be after we take out the trash!”

Fei Long’s grin matched Ken, then the two men moved forwards in perfect harmony. Whenever Titan blocked one going high, the other would be striking low and each blow he parried meant that he was unable to prevent another from landing. Although outmassing his enemies, Titan was slowly driven back until he was barely a handspan away from the shattered window that one of his minions had been thrown out of earlier, then Fei Long dropped into a crouch, allowing Harry to use him as a vaulting block, driving his feet into  Titan’s chest and driving the crime lord back one single step.

A step onto a surface that wasn’t there.

However, Harry’s momentum almost carried him out of the window after the falling crime boss, only Ken’s reflexive grab that barely caught his wrist stopping him from doing so. The blond man stepped back, lowering Harry to the ground and Fei Long placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Well done, little phoenix. Well done.”

.

“What. A. Film!” Dean cheered as he rose from his seat while the final credits rolled. “I’ve seen the first two but… Harry, you rock!”

“Did you really almost fall out the window?” Susan Bones asked and Harry rocked one hand.

“Almost, although it wouldn’t have mattered all that much. The drop was only eight feet down and there were loads of crash-mats there. And Honda-Sensei would have caught me if Ken-Sensei had missed.”

“Not that I would have missed.” Ken interjected as he walked towards them, a wry smile on his face. “Fei Long would never have let me live it down if I had. Plus, we’d have had to do a re-shoot and Fei Long takes doing those as a personal insult.”

“Honda-Sensei really enjoyed himself.” Harry chuckled in memory, then frowned. “Did he put his entire share into his Dojo and Onsen?”

“He did, as well as putting several of the props on display on the entry hall for the Onsen.” Ken confirmed. “Apparently, the number of visitors has more then doubled.”

“Good for him.” Harry grinned, then he paused. “Pardon?”

“Ever thought of trying out for Quidditch?” One of the Weasley twins asked.

“With that ability to move, you’d be a great Chaser or Seeker.” The other continued.

“I… hadn’t actually considered it.” Harry admitted, causing both red-heads to look at him with humorously-exaggerated shock.

.

As he made his way back down the stairs to the Slytherin Dungeon, Draco contemplated what he had just watched.

He had watched the first film after Professor Snape had informed him that he should seek out as much information as possible on the one who had defeated him so easily and so he had joined the crowd heading to the Great Hall, where the film was being shown. The movie itself had, much to his retrospective disgust, proven to be rather entertaining.

The sight of a young Harry Potter apparently injured and near death at the start of the film had given rise to several pleasant daydreams later, but what really caught his attention was how, even to his eyes, Harry had improved greatly between the first two films, moving with almost-snake-like quickness and cat-like balance.

While Draco had originally looked down upon physical training, like most purebloods, seeing the evidence of what it could aid in achieving was making him reconsider his previous unthinking stance.

Come to think about it, he’d heard of a previous Potter known for his prodigious physicality. Alfred? Arnold? What was the man’s name again?

Draco gave a small shrug as he reached the entrance to the common room. At least looking it up would give him something to do.

After all, there were only so many times one could re-read the Hogwarts textbooks.

.

Hermione Granger sneezed and looked round suspiciously.

Someone was talking about her, she could sense it…

.

.

Appearing in a swirl of movement, Lucius Malfoy looked round his study, then dropped the gold coin that had been his Portkey onto the desk before pulling his wand out of his cane and waving it. The rug in front of the desk twitched, then rolled itself up to reveal the flagstones beneath, stone tiles that then descended smoothly and silently to form a staircase. As Lucius strode down it, the tiles rose up behind him, revealing themselves to be solid slabs of stone, until the final slab locked back into position.

 The stairs, however, continued downwards, the natural stone soon giving way to carefully-polished tiles of obsidian with runic arrays carved into them, some of which glowed enough to illuminate Lucius’ path.

Stepping through the archway at the bottom of the staircase, Lucius waved his wand again, causing the large glass globes suspended from the ceiling by iron chains to begin glowing. His footsteps echoed as he made his way across the shaped cavern, reaching a large empty glass coffin.

“Soon, you will return, my Master.” He murmured as he produced a jade-capped gold cylinder from inside his robe and placed it in the middle of the coffin, then he tapped it with his wand. The cylinder rose slightly, then it seemed to unroll, twist, explode, implode and shatter all at once, leaving a human body to drop back down, the impact causing the lid of the coffin to fall into place.

“Upon the summer solstice, you will be reborn in your new body.” Lucius intoned as the glass began to glow with a stasis spell. “Until then, your vessel will stay here, safe and ready for the summoning of your spirit.”

.

.

With a clatter, the final tube dropped to the ground, followed by a metal facemask and the figure in the chair rose to his feet.

“Master?”

“At long last, I am healed.” Bison rumbled, reaching up to adjust his cap slightly, pulling the visor down slightly to shade his blank eyes. “More than healed. My power is greater than it was before, I can feel it pushing at my willpower, seeking to turn against me, yet I shall not allow it to overpower me. Summon the lesser Kings for I am ready to reign once more!”

“As you command, Master!” Doctor Senoh bowed deeply, then strode quickly to the door which opened in front of him. As the skinny scientist vanished, Bison held out one hand that was suddenly surrounded in a flickering corona of purple lightning, then a cloak flew across the room to him and settled on his shoulders. Reaching up, Bison fastened the gold chains that held it in place and adjusted the collar, then turned back to the door as it opened once more to reveal two large silhouettes.

“Lord Bison.” The taller one rumbled, fists held in front of his chest in a salute as he bowed slightly.

“My Lord.” The shorter one echoed, slapping his right fist to his chest.

“As you can see, I am once more at full power!” Bison declaimed as he rose into the air, his shiny black boots reflecting the purple energy that was levitating him. “It is time for Shadowlaw to rebuild itself and reclaim the power that it once held! Soon, entire nations will submit to Shadowlaw, their governments will submit to our rightful superiority… or they will be forced to submit!”

Both men before him smiled, the taller one’s smile a bare twitch of his lips while the darker-skinned one had a grin that was more like that found on an ocean-going predator.

“Of course, there is still one more task which remains before I can truly reclaim my throne.” Bison mused, seeing how the shorter man tensed. “As per the traditions and customs of Shadowlaw, a King who has fallen but arisen once more must prove him- or her-self to be able to retake their position. As such… I do believe it is time for a spar…”

.

Senoh checked the readouts from the implanted sensors that he had personally placed into the cloned body that he had then had delivered to Lucius Malfoy. Once again the readings were unchanged – the body was in stasis, with no sign of life.
The Neural Chips placed inside the skull had yet to perform their tasks, but he was confident that they would.

The room he was in shook as someone bounced off the wall just below and Senoh moved to the window and glanced out of it, his eyes taking in the sight of an almost-manically-laughing Bison engaging Sagat in close-quarters-combat, their arms and legs almost seeming to blur as they struck and blocked each other. Balrog rolled into view from below the window, his vest half-shredded, and he levered himself to his feet before dropping into a modified boxing stance and charging into the melee once more, his right fist moving in a near-blur.

“Good heavens!” Senoh murmured as despite managing to use his power to block the punch, Bison was sent hurtling backwards hard enough that he had to somersault in order to briefly land on the wall instead of crashing into it. “I really need to recheck my scans of him. He can’t be unpowered if he can strike like that.”

Bison’s horizontal attack slammed into Balrog and Sagat, launching both of them backwards. While Sagat managed to land on his feet, taking a couple of quick steps backwards to bleed off his momentum, Balrog landed in a rolling tumble from which he erupted into a forwards charge, his fists lashing out and causing Bison to have to spin out of the way, his grin showing how much he was enjoying the fight.

“Tiger!”

A crescent of compressed energy raced across the sparring room and Bison teleported out of the way, allowing Balrog to take the hit that launched him backwards into an almost-uncontrolled tumble. As Sagat and Bison closed in on each other once again, Senoh turned to head back to his desk and the laptop upon it.

He had science to attend to.

.

.

A figure floating in a meditative pose on top of a small stone ziggurat seemed to tense without moving. Eyelids parted to reveal the blank white eyes underneath as Dhalsim inhaled deeply before unfolding himself. The dawn illuminated his tall, slender form and as he made his way down the stairs, his voice seemed to echo despite its quietness.

“The Shadow King has risen once more.”

Chapter Text

“…please don’t ask.” Ryu begged as he and Ken entered the Great Hall.

“No, I have to.” Ken motioned towards the spectacular black eye that dominated Ryu’s face. “Who and how?”

“I underestimated him.” Ryu glanced round at the suddenly-silent hall, then sighed and raised his voice. “Lesson for you all. Even if someone is morbidly obese, don’t underestimate them. Appearances can be deceptive, especially if they’re a blond biker who looks like a bag of jelly with limbs.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re referring to a specific person?” Ken chuckled. “Who was he?”

“He said his name was Rufus… and he thought that I was you.” Ryu grumbled as the duo moved round to their seats at the end of the Teachers Table, most of the other teachers watching them with fascinated expressions.

“He what? We look completely different!”

“I know.” Ryu sighed. “But I was wearing my gi and since he knows that you often wear one…”

“You have got to be kidding me!”

Ryu shook his head, then accepted a small vial from Severus Snape, giving him a quizzical look.

“A variation of Bruise Balm.” The Potions Master explained. “Rub it on and you will be healed by the end of the feast.”

The already-silent Great Hall somehow managed to grow even quieter as the assembled students were confronted with something that they had previously deemed impossible – a helpful and non-sarcastic Professor Snape.

.

“…what do you mean, you’re not going on the train tomorrow?” Ron asked and Harry smiled.

“We’re going straight to Ken-sensei’s mansion, then off on a trip to Japan before continuing on to several other places. Sadly, we won’t be visiting Uncle Fei-Long and Chun-Li and Guile are on a mission investigating a group of assassins called the Dolls, so we’re unlikely to meet them either.”

“Are you going anywhere interesting?” One of the older students asked and Harry shrugged.

“We’re visiting Japan first to meet someone that Ryu won’t tell me about, Mexico to meet several wrestlers and then the Phillipines, swinging round to the Arab states and then there may be a few in Australia… Ken-Sensei has the list.”

“Huh… and there was me thinking that my family’s trip to Egypt was a big thing.” Ron shook his head. “Is there anywhere you haven’t been yet?”

“Loads of places… including most of America.” Harry admitted as he poured himself some water from a magically-chilled pitcher.

.

The sound of cutlery and background conversation echoed through the Great Hall as the Feast progressed and Flitwick leaned slightly towards Ken.

“So, I hear that you are heading around the world again this summer?”

“We still have a few more people that we really need to pass the warning to about Shadowlaw and Bison.” Ken confirmed. “Plus Ryu’s gramps wants to meet him regarding a potential apprentice.”

“Isn’t Harry his Apprentice?” Flitwick asked curiously and Ken nodded.

“Yep, but traditionally, Ansatsuken is taught to two students at a time. Upon attaining mastery, one of the duo becomes a roving practitioner using the Art to raise funds while the other then takes two or more new students to continue the line. Harry is the first lone student for over twenty iterations of the Art and to reach the highest levels, he needs a rival he can trust.”

“Like you and Ryu.” Flitwick nodded. “Although from what I heard, I thought that it was Ryu who was the traveller?”

“Yes… and no.” Ken shrugged, then paused to slurp up a long noodle. Swallowing, he continued. “I’m very rich and so my family has set up a trust fund for the Ansatsuken Dojo which should last for a century or more as long as we don’t go overboard with spending, even if neither of us earns anything to go towards it. Ryu was seeking to polish his skills before teaching and both of us agree that I’m not the best at taking responsibility for students. I’m just too flighty.”

“True.” Ryu added and Ken swatted his shoulder.

“Hush, you. So, Ryu found and started Harry’s training and I joined in as his cool-uncle-figure, but Ryu is his primary Sensei.”

“And all the other things he’s studied?” Flitwick probed, causing Ken to grin.

“Ansatsuken has only three true moves, although varients on them are permitted, if not really approved, everything else is based on does it work. The Rising Uppercut is a powerful move that can send enemies flying, injuring or even killing them. The Hurricane Kick is a way of destabilising and disorienting adversaries while the Hadouken is a ranged attack that does significant damage to an unprepared enemy. Those are the three moves that define the Art, everything else can be adjusted, changed or even replaced to suit the practioner.”

“Fascinating…” Flitwick breathed.

.

.

“Hope you managed to say goodbye to everyone.” Ken noted as the Lambourghini accelerated away from the house and towards the airport where his private plane was waiting for them.

“I did.” Harry replied from the back seat, then he frowned. “Padma and Parvarti kept glaring whenever I gave someone else a goodbye hug. Any idea why?”

Ken’s shoulders started shaking and Ryu reached out to stabilise the steering wheel while the blonde martial artist fought to regain control.

“I… may have an idea or two.” He finally noted, his voice filled with amusement. “But Ryu won’t be happy with me if I explain it to you… at least not for another couple of years.”

Harry frowned in confusion. “Why?”

“Not my place to say.” Ken chuckled. “Anyway, we should get moving. Sirius and Remus’ll be catching up to us on our third stop, apparently they have several things to deal with regarding Sirius becoming the Black Paterfamilias, but if we don’t hurry, they’ll beat us there and never let us live it down.”

.

“If only Harry could have joined us.” Hermione sighed as she settled down, looking round at the others that had become her friends through the year due to a tousled-haired boy and his two guardians.

“He’ll be back next year.” Neville noted as he almost-effortlessly lifted the second of the Patil twins trunks up to the luggage rack, his sleeves bunching in just the right way that Hermione could admire his biceps for a brief moment. Stepping back down, he twitched his robes back into position, then inelegantly collapsed into the corner of the bench. “So, anything interesting happening for you? My Father’s bringing in a tutor for me so that I can catch up with what I should have learned as Heir Longbottom… my Gran didn’t really pay that much attention to my political education while they were still in hospital…”

.

.

“Ryu!” The old man waved as Ryu led the other two up the hill. “’bout time you got here.”

“Hey, Gramps.” Ryu grinned, then looked at the barely-teenage girl standing just behind him in a short-sleeved Gi and with a red ribbon around her head. “So, this who you want me to meet?”

“Yep. She’s grown up a bit since the last time you saw her.”

Ryu blinked, then smiled. “Kusanago Sakura. You were tiny when I left on my travels.”

The now-identified Sakura blushed and Gramps chuckled. “Yeah, well it seems like she’s been studying hard. She managed to do a Hadou a couple of weeks back, means she’s beyond my level now.”

Ryu paused. “Wait. You can do a Hadouken?”

Sakura nodded and Ryu frowned. “Impressive, but… yeah. You need training to handle that level of power without the risk of Falling and without someone to practice with and against, the higher levels will be beyond you.”

“Looks like you do indeed have a second Apprentice now.” Ken noted and Sakura perked up. “Harry, remember to be a good Sempai.”

“Hey, I’m older than him!” Sakura protested. “I should be the Sempai!”

Ryu raised an eyebrow at her and Sakura froze, then seemed to shrink slightly without actually moving. “…but I’m okay with being the Kohai?”

After a long moment, Ryu nodded slightly in agreement and Sakura relaxed with a small sigh of relief.

“You got your stuff packed?”

“I kept her from going overboard with it.” Gramps interjected, earning a pout from Sakura. “One canvas carry-bag with the essentials and a suitcase for the luxuries.”

“Suitcase got carry-straps?” Ryu asked and Sakura nodded. “You carry the case, Hari will carry the bag. We’ve got several dozen miles to reach the station and I want to make it by dusk.”

Sakura seemed to pale slightly as Gramps chortled at her expression.

“Well, let’s get moving.” Ryu commanded as Gramps helped to strap the suitcase to Sakura’s back while Hari simply slung the bag over his shoulder.

.

“I… thought… I… was… fit…” Sakura gasped as she staggered along, the suitcase now being carried by Ken. Ryu had taken the bag and Harry was half-jogging alongside Sakura, ready to stop her from collapsing.

“For one who hasn’t really studied the Art, you are.” Ken tried to reassure her. “You just need to work on your stamina and a few other things.”

“It’s an overnight train, you can rest there.” Ryu added, earning an irritated-yet-exhausted glower from Sakura.  “Ken, did you reserve a couple of cabins for us?”

“I thought you did.” Ken shot back, then laughed at the look Ryu gave him. “Did it even before we got off the plane, bro.”

“There’s a bed waiting?” Sakura managed to somehow speed up slightly as the station came into view. “I need that bed!”

“’fraid you two are sharing a compartment, but at least they’re bunk beds.” Ken continued. “Don’t bother to get changed, just shuck the tops and… you are wearing something under that, aren’t you?”

“Sa… ra… shi…” Sakura panted as the station drew closer. “Gramps… suggested… it…”

“Excellent. Now let’s get moving, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

“…yay…”

Harry grinned at the exhausted sarcasm in Sakura’s response.

.

.

The blank eyes opened, a faint haze of purple briefly seeming to emanate from them and then the red-clad man rose from his throne, his cloak flying out of the darkness to fasten itself around his neck.

“I can feel the future calling to me!” He declaimed as he strode towards the door that opened automatically for him. “The ones who felled me before have departed from the Sceptred Isles and the Fourth King shall soon rise once more.
"My Shadow shall spread over the Crown of the Empire That Was and I shall take its legacy of light and twist it so that I shall reign supreme!
“None shall prevent the rise of Shadowlaw!
“None shall prevent me from claiming what is mine by right of might!
“Soon, the entire world shall be in my hand and all shall obey the Will of Bison!”