"Finally, we have a late student, whose power has been suppressed since he was born, only to awaken recently

Okay, so this is the start of a crossover I've been playing around with. This first chapter is just to see how people will respond to it, and weather it is worth posting. As a warning, if I do continue it, updates will be sporadic, as Restoring Faith is still me main project. This is more of a vent.

Disclaimer: I don't own either Harry Potter or Princess Tutu and am making no money from this project. I know this. You know this. I won't say it again.

The Pen is Mightier

Teaser

"Finally, we have a late student, whose power has been suppressed since he was born, only to awaken recently. He will join the sixth-years, and I hope you will all look after him."

Harry stared as the Headmaster beckoned someone from one of the side doors of the hall. As the young man emerged, all eyes turned to him, and the boy sent a sharp glare towards the student body. Many girls, who had been drooling over the boy's long black hair and piercing green eyes, fell back, as if struck, while most of the guys felt an instant dislike for the hostile boy.

"Schreiber, Fakir," McGonagall called out sharply. The boy, Schreiber, swiftly approached the stool where the Sorting Hat sat, one hand clutching something beneath his robes. Fluidly, he moved to the stool and sat stiffly as the Hat was placed on his head.

He sat there for a while, and Harry began to wonder if there had finally been a mistake. A glance at Hermione's face showed the same worry, and Harry remembered his own fear that he would be sent home when he had tried on the Hat.

But Schreiber sat, silent and unmoving, without fear until the Hat finally called out, "Ravenclaw!"

Amid a half-hearted applause, the boy strode to the Ravenclaw table and took a place at the very end, far from any of his housemates. Harry turned his gaze back to the Headmaster as Dumbledore finished the opening speeches.

When the food finally appeared, Harry reached for the nearest plate. Ron, beside him, was already tearing through his potatoes as Hermione looked on with a face of intense disgust.

The boys only looked up as a ripple went through the hall, with the Ravenclaw table as its epicenter.

Harry stared in shock as the new Ravenclaw marched out of the hall, apparently without having eaten or been dismissed. When Dumbledore moved to stop him, the black-haired teen sent the Headmaster a scathing look before exiting.

The Headmaster resumed his seat nodding to Professor Lupin, who silently exited the hall.

Harry nudged Hermione who shrugged at the event before returning to scolding Ron about the dangerous effects of over-eating. Ron's protests were uttered around various mouthfuls of food, rather ruining the effect.

As Harry laughed at his friend's predicament, all thoughts of Fakir Schreiber faded from his mind.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Remus Lupin had been pleasantly surprised when an urgent Dumbledore had come to his home, proposing his return to the recently vacated Defense Against the Dark Arts post. The werewolf had accepted gratefully, longing for the safety and familiarity of his childhood heaven.

His first assignment had been the retrieval of the German transfer student.

The entire process had taken much longer than he had expected, for the boy was… reluctant… to leave his home. Remus had been forced to stay in Kinkan Town for a week, and was about to owl Albus with news of a failure when the boy had turned up at the hotel, carrying his bags with a scowl on his face.

Schreiber had never revealed what had led him to accept Remus's offer, and Remus was too relieved with the outcome to ask. The return trip to England had taken much longer than the werewolf had anticipated, mainly due to Schreiber's refusal to take any sort of magical transportation whatsoever. They had been forced to take a train to France, then to change to the Chunnel to get to Britain itself, and finally to take another train to London.

Remus had also been tasked with overseeing the boy's shopping, and after only a day, Remus had begun to wonder if the Headmaster was a bit more sadistic than he appeared.

The shopping itself had been an utter disaster. Schreiber was rude, bad-mannered, and impatient. Remus had done most of the purchasing himself, and yet still had to spend time smoothing ruffled feathers among the shop's patrons.

So, almost three weeks after leaving Hogwarts, Remus had been far too relieved to deposit the willful boy to the Headmaster, ready to wash himself of the responsibility.

Albus took the opportunity to inform the new professor that he was to take charge of Schreiber's supplementary classes, which were needed to catch the boy up to his age group. Remus had accepted reluctantly, and the lessons had begun in earnest.

At first the lessons were strained; Schreiber's natural intelligence was undermined by his silent impudence. Schreiber accomplished all of the tasks assigned to him, quickly and efficiently – but the process was filled with sharp words and glares. Remus dreaded the lessons and was grateful when it was time for the boy to return to his temporary rooms.

One night Remus had headed down to the kitchens after a particularly fruitless lesson. Schreiber had refused to write a paper on transfiguration theory and, after a verbal war that should have been held in loud tones, had stalked out of Remus' rooms and vanished for the evening.

Near midnight, Remus had felt an overwhelming urge to get out of his rooms and become one with the darkness. As he always had done while at school when these urges came, Remus had sought out the Room of Requirement, seeking a place suited for whatever moods would overtake him.

It was to his utmost surprise that he found the room occupied. Despite striding passed the wall that concealed the Room's entrance several times, the doors refused to appear. After an hour of useless pacing, Remus had satisfied himself with waiting for whoever was using the Room to exit.

Hidden in the shadows, Remus was not seen by the Room's occupant until the door had faded into the wall and the person had turned to depart. Despite having a few extra seconds to process the information, Remus was as surprised as Schreiber when the boy finally caught site of the professor.

Schreiber had shed his black Hogwarts' robes for tighter clothing that, while still black, clung tightly to his figure. On his feet were shoes of a make Remus had never seen and one of his hands tightly clutched a sword.

The pair had stared at each other in silence, neither one willing to confront the other. Schreiber almost ended the stand-off when he turned to depart, but something in Remus called out, trying to understand the stubborn youth.

"Can you show me how to use a sword?"

The black-haired teen had been brought up short by the werewolf's sudden request. The boy turned to Remus with an unreadable look on his face, green eyes searching for something within the adult's own.

Remus assumed Schreiber had found whatever he had been searching for when the teen nodded his assent, and turned back to the Room of Requirement.

The rest of the night had been spent with Schreiber teaching his professor how to hold a sword properly, followed by some simple exercises and stances. When the sunlight had begun to filter through the Room's single window, Remus had collapsed on the floor, panting and out of breath. He took a moment to note that Schreiber did not appear to even be breathing hard.

When Remus had inquired about a second session, Schreiber had turned to his professor with an approving look and agreed to meet again in the Room the following Tuesday.

After their late-night encounter, tensions between teacher and pupil had lessened. During classes, Schreiber had begun to ask questions and sometimes explain his reasons when he refused to do something. There were still many secrets he kept, but Remus had been satisfied with the simple compromise and hadn't pressed the teen for more details than he was willing to reveal.

During Remus' sword lessons, Schreiber spoke more than Remus had ever imagined. It was through the lessons that the pair had bonded, and before either knew it, there was an unstated trust between them. Remus did not press Schreiber and Schreiber tried to be more cooperative.

Soon, Schreiber asked that Remus call him Fakir.

It was Fakir that Remus had been sent to find, and, as the professor approached the Room of Requirement, he almost imagined that he heard the clang of a sword, despite the Room's silencing spell.

Remus entered the Room silently, softly shutting the door behind him, and stood wordlessly as the teen worked his way through a difficult kata, blade swinging swiftly and smoothly through imagined opponents.

The kata ended with the sword-sheathing and Remus took the opportunity to approach his student.

"That wasn't the wisest idea, you know. Especially if you wish to remain inconspicuous."

Fakir grunted in response and moved to the basin of cold water that was suddenly present. Remus said nothing more as the swordsman wiped the sweat from his face. When Fakir turned to Remus, his face was neutral.

"I hated to see those children divided, simply on which quality they are thought to posses the most. All people posses all traits, and it is the combination of those traits that makes a person who they are. And I hated the way that the students accepted their separation ad inevitable. I couldn't stand to be near any of them."

"The first years are only five years younger than you," Remus replied with amusement. "They're hardly children."

"Anyone who accepts without questioning cannot be called anything but a child. Was there something you wanted, Remus-sensei?"

"You'll have to call me Lupin-sensei in front of the other students, you know. And that's not the only thing that will have to change with arrival of the students."

Fakir rolled his eyes and scowled. "You don't have to tell me that. I'm not an idiot."

"Albus wanted me to review it with you." Fakir's scowl deepened. "Albus said something to piss you off, didn't he?"

"He wanted me to keep her out of my rooms. I said no. He tried to threaten me. I shoved my sword in his face, told him to shut the hell up, and left."

Remus' eyes widened. He had told the Headmaster time after time that the teen had a need for her, and yet Albus had still tried to ban her under school rules. Did Albus really have a death wish?

Abruptly, Remus strode to the wall and plucked down the sword he used during practices. Fakir got the idea, and the pair focused on their swords, to the exclusion of all other thoughts, until the sun rose once again.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Review and let me know if I should continue.