A.N. Okay! I would have had this up sooner but my computer died a few weeks ago and well, yeah…I’m sure some of you out there know what that’s like. Anyhow, hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: POT and HP not mine.

Note: Sorry about the quotes, I just got them back in.

(…) Japanese

“…” English

Chapter 5

(Oishi! Save me nyah!) hurling himself at his doubles partner, Eiji ducked around him to cling to the back of his shirt in the manner of a child hiding from a monster. (He’s trying to make me run myself into a wall nyah! I don’t want to die yet!)

(It won’t kill you,) Mr. Tanglewood threw his hands up in exasperation. The poor man was starting to look very harassed, his hair sticking up in random directions as he gesticulated in the manner of one who couldn’t quite find the words to fit his mood. (It is the way to get on the platform!)

(What platform?) Momo was frowning at the wall, brows furrowed. (I see no platform.)

(The most likely conclusion is that we were given the wrong platform number,) Inui announced, notebook open in one hand and pen poised in the other. (Misprints happen. Or perhaps nine and three quarters is the time, not the platform, and ten the platform and not the time.)

Glancing at his watch, Oishi’s brows furrowed in concern, (But that’d mean we missed the train. It’s already nine fifty…)

Off to the side, Tanglewood clapped a hand over his forehead and groaned audibly. This had to be a nightmare.

(We can ask one of the security guards,) Fuji suggested, (find out where the platform ten, nine thirty train was headed and find another one that goes he same way.)

(All right, I’ll go,) Momo volunteered, snagging a hold of Echizen’s jacket and pulling him along. (Come on Echizen.)

(What? Hey,) pulling unsuccessfully to free himself, the boy glared. (I didn’t volunteer, you did.)

(Yeah, but you know your English is better than mine.)

(Baka. You should pay more attention in class.)

(Who said I didn’t? It’s just I’m not good with all the memorizing stuff.)

Still bickering, the two disappeared into the crowds flooding through King’s Cross Station. The others watched them go with bemused expressions as Kaidoh hissed and rolled his eyes. Tanglewood watched with slumped shoulders. It didn’t look like they were going to be listening to him.

Somewhere in the distance, Momoshiro had found a security guard.

(Oi!) he exclaimed in excitement, waving at the man while pulling on his reluctant accomplice’s sleeve. (Mister! We have a question for you! Hurry up Echizen, we’re already late.)

(Shut up then,) the younger boy snapped, japing his companion hard in the stomach with his elbow and eliciting a pained yelp while his eyes watched the guard. (Can’t you tell he already thinks you’re crazy? The last thing we need is for you to get us arrested for acting like a moron.)

“Sorry,” he said in English to the guard, making a rare attempt to be as polite as he could manage—something he wasn’t exactly an expert at. “This idiot doesn’t speak English. We had a little problem we were wondering whether or not you could help with.”

The guarded nodded hesitantly, still eyeing Momo suspiciously but apparently relieved that someone was making sense, “Yes, of course. How may I help you?”

“Well, we and our friends seem to have missed our train—we had an appointment. So it’d be good if you could tell us where the nine forty five train from platform ten was headed.”

“Nine forty five? Platform ten, you say?” the guard frowned slightly. “There was no train from platform ten at that time. The last train that left from that platform was at nine o’clock sharp.”

Blinking, Ryoma glanced back over his shoulder at the platforms, considered asking the guard about a platform nine and three quarters, but decided against it. After all, it was pretty obvious such a platform didn’t exist, and he didn’t want to look more like a loon than Momoshiro had already managed to do.

“Thanks,” he muttered instead before grabbing Momo by the arm and proceeding to haul the second year back towards their waiting friends.

(I don’t get it,) Momo complained as they waited for a trio of tall men in black business suits to file by, (did he just say there was no train?)

(No train from platform ten at nine forty five,) Ryoma corrected him, tugging irritably at his cap brim. He should make a note in that planner thing Oishi gave him to buy Momo-sempai an English dictionary for Christmas—that and maybe one of those language training audiotapes. He wasn’t sure how effective they were, having never tried one himself, but he knew other people used them and it was better than nothing.

(You were wrong, Inui-sempai,) he called out as they rejoined their teammates. (There was no such train. The last one that left from platform ten was at nine.)

(But that doesn’t make sense,) frowning, Inui proceeded to scribble away madly in his open notebook, his brows drawn together in deep concentration. (There is no other logical explanation!)

(Maybe this is their way of getting rid of us,) Fuji mused thoughtfully, glancing around the station once more. Nick Tanglewood made an indignant noise from where he had sat himself down by the luggage, but no one heard him.

Glancing at the tensai, Kaidoh shifted uneasily. (Would they?)

(Don’t be ridiculous,) Oishi said hurriedly, (I’m sure they would do no such thing!) The problem was, the expression on his face clearly expressed the fact that he was sure of no such thing.

(Aw man,) Eiji sighed despondently, (I don’t wanna have to stay here nyah! I hate losing by default…)

Seeing the worry beginning to build in his teammate’s faces, Tezuka cleared his throat, (We will wait another ten minutes. If this issue is not resolved by then than we will return to the inn and work on further plans there.)

(Resolved how?) Fuji prodded. (This mysterious platform is most likely not going to materialize for our benefit anytime soon ne?)

(Either a train will come in to one of these two platforms,) the captain gestured at platforms nine and ten, (to leave at ten that might be headed in the appropriate direction, or someone comes to ask why we have not yet boarded our train.)

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tanglewood got to his feet and headed away from the teens. Maybe if he could get a call through to the ministry they could send someone a little more…adept at dealing with muggles to come straighten out the situation.

(I hate waiting,) Momo grumbled loudly, stuffing his hands into his pockets and giving his suitcase a baleful look as though it might be somehow responsible. (Why couldn’t we have been invited to a tournament somewhere where the people made sense?)

(They’d make sense if you paid attention in English,) Echizen noted, scanning the surroundings for a vending machine.

(Says he who spends English class sleeping.)

(I am qualified to sleep in English, you aren’t.)

(Oh forget it,) tossing his tennis bag at the foot of the barrier, Momo grabbed his suitcase and began to haul it in the same direction. There were some arguments even he knew he couldn’t win. (Let’s get out of the way before we get trampled.)

(Momo! You’re bag’s gone!)

(What?) halting in mid step, the power player looked back at his gaping teammates—not that Tezuka-buchou or Fuji-sempai ever gaped, but it was close there too. (What do you mean my bag disappeared?)

(Fshuu, just look baka,) Kaidoh snapped, stalking forward as the rest of the team crowded around.

Blinking uncertainly, Momo looked back at the barrier. There it was, looking normal as ever, and there at its base—was nothing. Only train station floor met his questioning gaze, and a sudden thrill of panic swept over him.

(My tennis bag!) he yelled, leaping forward to fall on his knees at the foot of the barrier, hands sweeping over the obviously deserted floor space. (My tennis bag! Where is it?!)

(It’s not here,) Oishi frowned, sitting back on his heels after conducting a search of his own.

(We can all see that much,) Inui noted, flipping open his notebook and jotting down a few quick lines. (Chances of the bag having been stolen—forty three percent, chances of bag vaporizing—)

(Vaporizing?!) Momo choked.

(—One point two percent…I wonder…)

(I say it was stolen nyah! Someone go get a security guard!)

(There’re too many people here,) Kaidoh pointed out. (If even we didn’t see who took it, it hardly seems likely that the guards would have. A thief that fast would be long gone by now.)

Turning to the distraught Momoshiro, Oishi put on his best comforting smile, (You can always buy new rackets, and I’m sure the bag won’t be hard to replace either. London must have some good sports stores.)

(I saw one on our way here,) Fuji offered, folding his arms loosely and leaning against the barrier.

(But those were my best rackets,) shoulders slumping dejectedly, the violet eyed youth stared forlornly down at his hands. (I can’t replace them in a day…it just wouldn’t be the same with new rackets.)

Ryoma snorted, (Baka, and how are you going to play with no rackets at all?)

(Exactly!) grinning brightly, Eiji glanced up. (So where’s that shop you said you saw Fujiko?) pausing, he blinked—then gasped in horror. (Wah! Fujiko’s gone!)

Six pairs of eyes followed the redhead’s gaze to stare in varying degrees of shock and horror at the empty air where the tensai had been a moment ago. No one could dispute the fact that he was there no longer.

For a long moment no one could say anything. There just didn’t seem to be a set of words that fit the occasion of ones long time teammate simply vanishing into thin air on the tail of a disappearing tennis bag. Reaching up slowly, Tezuka removed his glasses and gave them a good cleaning, never mind that it was not a matter of what was there but what wasn’t. Replacing the glasses, he gave the barrier another hard look. There was still no tennis bag and no Fuji.

It was Eiji who finally broke the silence he had started with his impromptu cry, (Someone’s kidnapped Fuji!)

(And Momo-sempai’s tennis equipment,) Echizen added. That’s just weird…

(Actually—)

Oishi leapt to his feet, searching frantically for his cell phone, (Quick! Call the police!)

(—if you would just—)

(Fshuuu…)

(First my bag then Fuji-sempai—what’s next? This has got to be some kind of freaky nightmare!)

(—Listen!)

Silence fell as all eyes turned to Inui. He was looking equal parts flustered and annoyed. His notebook was lying open in one hand, his pen hovering uncapped over its pages of calculations. He cleared his throat.

(Now that I have your attention, I would like to bring your attention to two very important facts. One, Momoshiro’s tennis bag vanished approximately six and a half minutes ago when he threw it to the foot of this barrier here. About one minute and forty five seconds ago Fuji too vanished—his last location being against this very barrier with folded arms while talking of a sports store where Momoshiro might replace his lost equipment.)

(So the wall kidnapped Fuji? That doesn’t make sense nyah!)

(I wasn’t finished yet,) the data player replied, adjusting his glasses with his writing hand. (Now, if you would recall, the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron at which we have now spent quite some time was entered by way of a hidden mechanism in the wall that opens a door in said wall.)

(But there’s no hole in the wall here,) Momo pointed out, puzzled.

(That is a bit difficult to explain,) Inui conceded the point, albeit reluctantly. (However, the technology here does seem rather advanced, thus perhaps there is something we are missing. I personally believe it might be some kind of a hologram.)

(A what?) several voices chorused after which Momoshiro and Kaidoh traded glares and Eiji scratched his head with a sheepish grin.

(A hologram. It is a projected image of something that is not really there—an illusion.)

(Oh! So Fujiko and Momo’s tennis bag are still here we just can’t see them!)

(…Something like that. Anyway,) stepping up to the barrier, Inui placed his hand against one end of it then started to walk, dragging said hand along the slightly rough surface as he went. For the first few steps everything was normal, but then his hand vanished, sinking straight into the wall halfway up his forearm.

Kaidoh let out a startled hiss as Eiji jumped in surprise. Momo and Oishi’s jaws dropped, and Echizen was devoutly grateful that he had not found a vending machine in time or he probably would have spat out whatever he was drinking. Even Tezuka blinked several times, staring.

Waving his hand around in the barrier, Inui smiled, (You see? What we see is not actually here. I am certain that we will find Fuji and Momoshiro’s bag if we walk through this image.)

(Well…if you’re sure,) Oishi said slowly, still looking more than a little doubtful despite the scene before his eyes. (Should we…go then?)

(Hey Inui-sempai,) Echizen waved his cap at the scientist and smirked, (care to prove your theory first?)

Inui paused for a moment, blinking behind his glasses though no one could see it, then looked over at the wall where his hand was still submerged up to his wrist. Swallowing discreetly, he looked back at his teammates, over at the wall, at his teammates, and took a deep breath. Closing his eyes, he stepped towards the wall, making sure to keep slightly to the side of where his hand was in hopes that the passing point was wide enough to accommodate him. He half expected to run into something hard and cold, or at least smack into something that might yield but would still feel present to some degree, instead he encountered nothing but air. By the time he opened his eyes, he was no longer standing in front of the barrier between platforms nine and ten in London’s King’s Cross station.

(I thought that might be your hand,) a cheerful voice quipped from somewhere off to the side. (Wasn’t entirely sure though. How’s Momo holding up without his bag?)

(Better now I think,) Inui replied, turning to find Fuji sitting cross-legged on the ground next to Momo’s tennis bag with a water bottle in his hand like a spectator at a tennis match, (after the shock wore off. Why didn’t you come back through?)

The brunette shrugged, smiling wider, (I was curious how long it would take you guys to figure it out.)

(Right…) the data collector shook his head in bemusement. (I should have expected this.)

(So where’re the others?) the brunette asked after a moment of scribbling filled silence.

Looking up from his notebook, Inui glanced at the wrought iron archway that led back to the train station. (Still on the other side, I suppose. However, they should believe my hypothesis now so they should arrive in around two minutes and twenty three seconds.)

(Ah,) Fuji nodded and settled back to wait.

Exactly two minutes and twenty three second later Kaidoh and Momoshiro came through the barrier—only they didn’t so much come through as fly through in a flurry of limbs and angered shouts.

(Baka!) Kaidoh was yelling at the top of his voice. (I am not a coward!)

(And who said I WAS?) Momo screamed back.

Together, the two tumbled across the deserted platform, passing the watching Fuji and Inui without so much as a glance, until they were teetering on the edge of the rails, their fists bunched in the fronts of each others shirts. It was at that moment that the sound of an approaching train’s whistle blasted through the air and the rails began to rattle. Freezing in place, both combatants turned their heads simultaneously to stare down the tracks. There was a moment of utter stillness in which they both stared in rapidly growing horror at the oncoming face of a huge, red steam engine, then they were scrambling away from the edge of the platform twice as fast as they had gotten there, the argument abandoned for the preservation of their lives.

Smirking slightly, Inui glanced at his watch. They were lucky that the train was apparently running late.

(That was so cool!) Eiji exclaimed as he bounded onto the platform, eyes immediately fixing on the crimson train. (Is that ours then?)

(Fuji!) Oishi let out a relieved smile. (You’re all right! We were all worried about you.)

(My tennis bag!) Momo exclaimed excitedly, catching sight of the object Fuji was sitting by and diving for it. Snatching the bag off of the ground he swung the strap over his shoulder and held onto it with one hand in the manner of someone who wouldn’t be letting go any time soon.

Rolling his eyes at the sight of the goofy grin now plastered on the second year’s face, Echizen adjusted the strap of his own bag and looked back towards the luggage. It looked like Oishi-sempai had already brought all the luggage through the barrier.

(We need to board the train,) Tezuka announced, gesturing towards the waiting steam engine. (It’s time to leave.)

X

The train, as it turned out, was conspicuously empty. Nowhere from the first compartment to the last was there any sign that another passenger was present, and yet the whistle blew to announce departure almost the instant the last of the regulars’ luggage had been haulted aboard. Fuji had suggested they check to see if the conductor’s room was occupied, but after some debate it was decided that most of them didn’t really want to know. After all, they had seen enough in the strange department to feel that there was a distinct possibility that it might be, but knowing there was no conductor and thinking there was a possibility that there might not be one were completely different things.

(I don’t get it though…) Momoshiro frowned slightly, staring around at the deserted seats of the end compartment. (I know that that Tanglewood guy said we were going early, but you’d think there’d be at least somebody on the train. I mean, where is this school anyway? Out in the middle of nowhere?)

(They never did tell us where it was,) Inui agreed, sitting down on one of the chairs and opening his notebook. (Interesting…)

(You don’t think they’d just send us off to some random place to get rid of us, do you?) Eiji asked suddenly, eyes widening.

(No! No, don’t say that,) Oishi interjected hurriedly before anyone could start panicking. (They said themselves that their rules forbid the removal of teams from competition who have already agreed to enter. And besides, I thought we already agreed that we don’t believe anyone would do such a thing.)

(I think that was just you Oishi,) Fuji chuckled, taking a seat. (Speaking of which, what do you guys think about this magic business?)

(I think it’s cool nyah!) Eiji grinned, plopping into a chair by the window. (I mean, I always wanted to know what real magic was like.)

(Do you actually believe that it’s magic?) Echizen inquired. He swung his tennis bag off of his shoulder and unzipped it, beginning to rummage around inside. He could have sworn he brought a drink, but where was it?

(I say it’s bogus,) Kaidoh snorted, crossing his arms. Something about his voice didn’t sound convinced though.

(There is a sixty three percent chance that they might have mentioned such things to encourage us to withdraw,) Inui announced. (However, considering their various reactions to our ‘lack of magical ability’, or so they call it, implies that the chances of it being truth are at least eighty six percent.)

(Well, there were all the floating drinks in the bar,) Fuji started counting off on his fingers, (the car that was too large inside, the opening wall, the alley full of magic shops, the shifting painting in our inn room, the changing pictures on the planners, Mr. Tanglewood’s admission, and the midway platform we just boarded.)

(Sounds pretty real to me,) Eiji shrugged. (Why don’t we just see what happens? I mean, it’s not a bad thing, is it?)

(Nope,) Momo agreed, grinning, (just weird. But what are we going to do about the tournament then? I mean, we aren’t going to give up, but either way I get the impression it’s not a tennis match.)

(Do tell,) Ryoma snorted.

The compartment fell silent as each regular thought over their current situation. Sadly, it was the kind of situation that made less and less sense the more one thought about it.

Oishi looked up suddenly, (What happened to Mr. Tanglewood?)

Another silence followed before all heads turned to look out the windows. There was nothing but rolling hills and trees beyond.

(I think we forgot him nyah…)

X

Standing in the middle of King’s Cross Station, Nick Tanglewood could only stare. His charges—and every last piece of their luggage—had vanished into thin air. They weren’t even on the platform when he had gone through the barrier to check.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

“I need a new job.”

IMPORTANT NOTES:

The Tournament: This is NOT the Triwizard Tournament! I’m sorry, if I didn’t make it clear before, but I thought the name made it relatively obvious…?

Setting: I have decided however that this story will take place in fourth year because I don’t want to deal too much with the Voldemort has returned thing.

Pairings: A lot of people mentioned about these, well, this is a crossover first and foremost. I like writing these—some of you probably know this—and I generally don’t write them for pairs even if I have preferences as we all do when it comes to that. Thus, you are free to imagine away, but I’m not actually writing any pairs here. Hope you don’t mind.

Mistakes: I’m sorry about mistakes, etc, it’s just I tend to be a bit too busy to really edit thoroughly…

A.N. Okay, now that that’s over with… What did you think? Comments, suggestions, questions are all welcome. Though I won’t answer questions that will be answered later in the story because that just wouldn’t be fun anyway, ne?