Disclaimer: The Naruto and Harry Potter characters are not mine… etc. etc.

Hi all! Thanks for reading! Yesterday, sitting once again in front of my computer, struggling to put those stories onto paper that just seemed so clear in my head and yet were so hard to put into words, I came to the realization – this isn't working. I took a short break and thought to myself… why not, for a change, try something fun? And not care how silly it is, or how ridiculous the premise? So I did, and that's how I ended up with a Naruto Harry Potter crossover. (Though, as a warning, fun doesn't necessarily mean happy). It started with a short daydream, a "what if…" in my head, and turned into something more. So here it is! The first chapter. Please help me out with feedback. Feel free to give me comments, criticism, or any advice you would like. Thanks so much!

Chapter 1

"Eripio servo. Come on, come on… eripio servo!… oh bloody hell, you stupid animal… just come here!"

Freckled-face scrunched up and covered with sweat, Ron clenched his hands around his wand as he tried to summon the mouse Harry was holding only a few feet away. With a puff, a small cloud of smoke appeared around the mouse, only to clear away to reveal the mouse in the same exact place… only now bright pink. "Oh forget it!" He finally threw down his wand in frustration, where it hit his desk with a resounding clack. "Blimey Harry. I might as well just admit it. I'm never going to be able to summon the stupid rat." He sighed.

A very familiar, know-it-all voice piped up from a few desks down. "First of all, Ron, it's a mouse, not a rat. Second, we are not summoning the mouse, as we would with a normal summoning, but instead performing a rescue spell, a much higher level spell…"

Already frustrated, Ron felt his annoyance levels rise even further and cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Yeah yeah, same thing. Honestly Hermione, you should really stop learning so many silly details, and save that brain space for something else."

Hermione stood up in a huff. "Honestly Ronald," she snapped mimicking him, "those silly details make all the difference." She marched over to their desk, bushy-hair bouncing with each step.

"Now you've done it," Harry whispered with amusement. Ron grimaced, and then yelped as his girlfriend whacked him not-so-lightly on the nose with his wand. "Blimey! You've turned into a mini-McGonagall!"

Pushing back her hair with an exasperated sigh, Hermione looked down at her two best friends. "Look you two, do you want to learn how to do this spell, or not?"

Before Ron could open his mouth and most likely stick his foot into it, again, Harry quickly cut in. "Yes, we would. Thanks, Hermione."

"Okay." She plopped down into a chair next to them, and sat up straight in what both boys recognized through long-experience as Hermione's patented lecture mode. "As I was saying, this is a rescue spell, not a summoning charm. In a rescue spell, the wizard is sending out a query to a living being, asking if it needs help. If the being answers in the affirmative, then it is pulled to the wizard, and to safety. This is a two-step process, far more complicated then a simple summoning charm, where the wizard imposes his will upon an object, either animate or inanimate, and commands it to come to him through the force of his magic."

Pausing briefly in her monologue, Hermione looked over at her audience to see if they had any questions (and to see if they were still awake). Harry raised his hand tentatively. Ron just looked bored and slightly confused.

"Um, Hermione… the rescue spell just seems like an extra-complicated way to summon someone who needs help. I mean, wouldn't a summoning charm do the same thing?"

Hermione beamed. "Excellent question Harry!"

Ron snorted, and nudged him. "McGonagall, I'm telling you!" he whispered.

"…not the same thing at all," Hermione was saying. "The rescue charm actually uses the magic from both the caster and the life force of the living thing being helped. If the being in distress is a witch or wizard, then the spell is even more powerful, as it has access to at least double the normal amount of magic power. In situations of extreme distress, both people may voluntarily choose to give up more magic or life force than a spell normally requires, up to the max that they have to give. This gives the spell the special ability to summon people over significantly longer distances than would be normally possible. Of course, this also makes the spell rather dangerous, as the life force of both the summoned and the summoner can be drained…"

Ron, perking up from his semi-slumber at the word danger, finally decided enough was enough. "Alright, Hermione, thanks. That was…uh… really helpful. Now let's have Harry give it a go, eh?" So saying, he deftly lifted the mouse out of Harry's lap, and settled it in his. "Okay," he snickered a bit, "ask Mr. Pinky if he wants help, mate!"

Harry concentrated, trying to project his thoughts into the mouse's head, and feeling rather ridiculous. Eripio servo! Do you… uh.. do you need help? Mouse? Eripio servo!

With a sigh, he sat back and took a break. Not only did this spell remind him strongly of Legimancy, which thanks to Snape he already knew he was horrible at, but he didn't think that the mouse would want his help, even if he did do the spell correctly. He eyed the mouse ruefully. Nestled comfortably amongst Ron's robes, it nibbled happily on a few crumbs Ron had tossed it. It would probably start complaining if he managed to summon it.

Frowning, Hermione saw Harry's dilemma. "Hm. That won't do. Here." With a flick of her wrist and a muttered spell, she transformed Ron's water glass into a lidless glass box. Then she reached down, she fumbled a bit with her shoe, and pulled out her shoelace, which she tossed into the box. Ron raised an eyebrow at Harry, and got a silent shrug of the shoulders in return.

"Um, Hermione," began Harry slowly, when she deftly turned the shoelace into snake. Ron jumped in surprise, and Harry backed his chair up a few feet.

"Here, Ron, pass me the mouse." Wordlessly, Ron handed it over, and both boys watched, mouths slightly open, as their normally gentle-hearted friend mercilessly proceeded to dangle the mouse above the aquarium. The snake, sensing lunch, lifted its head up and hissed, while the mouse flailed wildly about in abject panic. "There, that should do it," Hermione said, satisfaction lacing her voice. "Okay then. Harry, try the rescue spell now!"

Harry found himself identifying with the poor struggling mouse. The situation seemed a metaphor for his life, really – a big bad snake man was out to get him, and he, the supposed chosen one, felt all too often like specially chosen snake food. "It's okay, little one, I'll save you," he muttered, and concentrated hard. Okay. Must save pink mouse from evil shoelace snake. Right. Eripio servo. Save… pink…from snake. Eripio servo!

A bead of sweat ran down his brow. Somewhere in the distance, he heard Ron's voice faintly telling him to give it up. He gripped his wand tighter, and gritted his teeth. As much as they made fun of Hermione, she had a point. War was coming up fast, and knowledge of their studies could make a crucial difference on the battle field. This spell, for instance, had the potential to be really useful when allies needed rescue. Or friends.

At that thought, he stepped up his effort. He could do it. He could.

Eripio servo!Save…pink…from snake! Eripio servo! Stretching out his awareness, he suddenly felt a light prickle on the edge of his consciousness. Was that… the mouse? A surge of triumph ran through him, and he focused harder, trying to zero-in on the faint feeling of contact. The prickle grew stronger, and, gasping slightly from the effort, he extended a mental probe towards the other mind.

Do you need help?

Harry frowned in confusion. Something wasn't right. His query had been bounced back, before ever reaching the mouse's mind. Hands shaking slightly, he ignored Hermione's voice, which now sounded alarmed, and with a supreme surge of energy he pushed against the barrier which stood in his way. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, and Harry decided that if this was the amount of effort it took to rescue one small rodent from two feet away, then it was no wonder he had never heard of the spell before. You would have to be, well, Dumbledore in order to rescue anyone.

However, though the spell might be worthless in the future, he certainly wasn't going to stop now. He had come too far to go back, and he was almost through, he could feel it. Suddenly, with one final push that left sweat stinging in his eyes, he was through, and the barrier dissolved as though it had never been there to begin with.

Ow. A wave of foreign, raw emotion washed over him, the agony and fear so strong that he felt abruptly winded, as though he had been punched in the gut.

The strength of the other's emotions pulled him unwillingly into the other mind.

He was running. His harsh, labored breaths seemed unnaturally loud in the otherwise silent forest, and he ran desperately, knowing the sound would draw his pursuers. A ragged cough forced itself up from his throat and, unable to stop himself, he fell to his knees, his naked body jerking helplessly as the blood and froth forced its way out of his lungs. It was, he realized helplessly, going to have to come out. His fingers slipped twice on the blood covering the hilt before he was able to get a firm grasp on the dagger sticking out of his side. Trying not to think about what he was about to do, he took a deep breath and yanked. Blinding pain shot up his side, and he found himself laying facedown on the ground, black spots dancing before his vision. The dagger was still embedded in his body, only a few inches further out than before.

A twig snapped somewhere behind him, and terror shot through him to the point of nausea. They were coming. Oh Kami-sama, they were coming. He tried to scramble to his feet, only to have his legs fail him. His fingers, several missing fingernails, dug into the dirt as his back arched in another spasm. He couldn't move. He was going to get caught. Pure horror set in, and he began to sob desperately. Someone help me, he pleaded in despair, though he knew there was no one to hear. Please, someone help me!

Harry pulled himself out of the other mind with a gasp. He felt numb from shock. Bloody hell! That had to be the most horrifying thing he had ever witnessed. My God. That person… that person was being chased, no, hunted… like an animal. His stomach twisted, and he fought the urge to throw up. He didn't know what was going on – that was certainly not his mouse – but it didn't matter. Hermione might complain that he had a saving-people-thing, but nobody with a shred of human decency would abandon a person to that.

Steeling himself, he pushed back towards the other person's mind, though this time he didn't go completely into it. The other's swirling emotions surged around him, though their force was muted . Extending a mental probe, he tried to reach past the cloud of pain and terror that currently blanketed the person's mind.

Do you need help?

Sudden silence. The pain and fear remained, but the blind panic that had filled the person moments before was suddenly replaced by puzzlement. Something that was obviously a query floated into his mind, though he did not recognize the words. He cursed mentally. Dammit. We speak different languages.

Harry felt the small thrill of his own panic. Time was obviously running out for the person on the other side of the spell, and he had no idea how to get them out of there. Calm down, he told himself. Think logically.

What did he know? Though the language barrier prevented him from outright asking the other person if they wanted help, there must be another way to get his consent. After all, in class they were supposed to 'rescue' the mouse, and the mouse certainly couldn't speak English. However, it couldn't be as simple as the other person just wanting help, since he had heard the other's desperate pleas for help when inside of his head, and nothing had happened.

Harry mentally scrambled to put the bits of what he knew together, and wished Ron was here instead of him. As a chess master, he would be able to put all the little pieces together, and come up with a winning game plan. Or, even better, he should swap places with Hermione. She would know what to do – hell, she probably knew what book and page number the answer was on, too. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he saw Snape sneering in disgust. Think boy, think. Use that thick skull of yours! Shape's voice grew ugly. Seems the little idiot's empty between the ears after all. Not a great surprise, considering he's a Potter.

A whimper of pain from the other mind brought Harry back from his panicked musings, and he tried to think clearly. Okay. Let's see. He had to get the other's consent, but he couldn't use words to do so. No wait. It couldn't be that easy, could it?

Turning back towards the other mind, he gently spun out feelings of help, of warmth and security. He offered a safe haven and freedom from pain, and he could feel the yearning in the other's mind. A overpowering need for what he offered rushed throughout the other's mind, swelling up to meet his own thoughts. As the two sets of emotions met and merged, Harry felt a thin bond, like a cord, link their two minds. Experimentally, he tugged. The other mind shifted a bit, and moaned from the pain.

Wincing in sympathy, but knowing it had to be done, Harry grabbed the cord with all of his remaining mental might and pulled. He pulled until the veins stood out on his forehead and his lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl, and bright dots danced before his vision. Finally, he heard a sharp 'pop' and the cord disappeared. As he fainted forward onto his desk, Harry hoped vaguely that the sound had been that of someone appearing in the classroom, and not that of the cord snapping. Or of something in his mind breaking.

He was the only one in the class who didn't see the shivering pink-haired girl appear in the middle of the room, naked except for the rivulets of her own blood which dripped slowly onto the stone tiles.