I do not own Ouran Highschool Host Club or Harry Potter, I make no prophet from this work.
Fenrir Greyback developed a creepy obsession with Harry Potter during the war. Finally, in the aftermath of the Final Battle, he gets his teeth into the Boy Hero. Turning him. Despite his defeat of Voldemort, regardless of how the botched turning means he could actually control his Inner!Wolf, the Wizarding World spit at him and treat him like a Leper.
Annoyed and irritated with their attitudes, he ends up joining one of his friends, Megan Jones, in Japan where she works in Kitsune and Kirin Conservation. Fed up to the back teeth of Wizards, he lets Meg convince (re: Blackmail) him into attending a Muggle School – only to end up in Ouran High for the Insanely Rich and just plain Insane where the local Nut Club try to make him one of them because of his 'Animal Charm'.
Takashi/Harry, Ritsu/Haruhi, Tamaki/Megumi, Mitsukuni/Reiko
"I'm kidnapping you."
"What?" he demanded, eyebrow shooting toward his hairline as he took in his apparent kidnapper. She was his age, her hair was shoulder length, dark chocolate brown and pulled back, she had round blue eyes and a small nose with a curious scar peeking out of her hair line. She wore a pair of muddy grey jeans and an old green shirt over a white vest with the sleeves rolled up, a string of blue and green beads around her throat and a long, rather springy Cedar wood wand clutched loosely in her hand.
"You're coming with me to Japan if I have to beat you unconscious with a herring and drag you through customs as a Transfigured Plushie doll," the girl announced, a wicked smirk curling on her thin lips at the thought of doing such a thing.
Harry just stared before eventually asking, "Why?"
She huffed and waved her free hand, flicking a flyaway strand of brown hair from her eyes, "You're a miserable old fart and you could do with some fun," she declared before pointing at him, "What's more fun than a country that doesn't spit on you as you walk past?"
There were a thousand and one answers to that, most of which Harry was sorely tempted to list for her but no doubt she would integrate them into her grand master plan to uproot him and drag him along with her to Japan. When he'd got up that morning, apart from doing his washing and then hanging it out to dry the old fashioned muggle way, he had nothing planned, especially not a move to a foreign country.
He went with the safe answer, the sarcastic one, "Your logic is astounding. Remind me again what kind of Stupid possessed you to date Draco Malfoy back in Hogwarts?" he retorted.
She sniffed and flipped him off, "Temporary insanity, runs in the family, you should have seen my sister's first husband. Gayer than a rainbow, the only way it could get more obvious was if he farted rainbows and pissed skittles," ow, that actually sounded painful. "You're coming with me."
Harry sighed, there was no budging her, "Can I finish my laundry first?" he asked half-heartedly, there was always a chance she would say no.
The girl eyed the neat rows of white washing, drifting gently in the soft breeze before blinking.
"Are those mine?" she squawked flushing bright red staring agog at a pair of skimpy white silk panties with a slight touch of lace and a few white ribbons sewn on.
Harry followed her gaze and nodded, "Yup. You got drunk and apparated into the house, stripped in my living room before tumbling through the floo back to your flat while I was in the shower. I washed your clothes. Jeans and T-shirt are in the living room on the coffee table, by the way," he added before clipping a peg down on the line to hold the last section of a sheet in place.
The girl's pink face now turned bright red as she fidgeted, "Sorry," she whimpered utterly mortified.
Harry smirked, "It's cool. Ginny's reaction was worth it."
Megan Jones, or rather just Meg, was both the best and the worst thing that ever happened to Harry James Potter.
The girl was a Hufflepuff but Harry had decided that, within three days of knowing her, she was a secret Slytherin and plotting world domination with her other Slytherin!Hufflepuff cohorts with no one the wiser. She just smiled mischievously at him when he informed her of this and never did a damn thing to dissuade his belief. If Gryffindors were the Brave ones, Ravenclaw the Smart ones and Slytherins the Ambitious ones, that meant the Hufflepuffs were the Maniacal ones.
They met during Harry's fifth year, back when the Ministry were desperately trying to sweep the mysterious disappearances, the Dark Marks hovering over gruesome murders and the awakening Revels under the carpets. When Delores Umbridge was busy locking Harry in her office and forcing him to carve 'I must not tell lies' into the back of his hand, he had been at his most stressed and snappish. Everyone was avoiding him, even Ron and Hermione. A soft whim at the back of his head one night had him dipping his hand into his trunk and removing the flute Hagrid had given him in his first year, fingers smoothing over the hand carved wood, guilt beginning to nag at him, he hadn't been to see Hagrid in too long.
It would be a few days later when he escaped to the North tower, hand bleeding and temper frayed, sat upon the flagstones and staring out across the darkened grounds and put that flute to his lips. Just testing it at first but then... then he began to actually play. Nonsense really, the notes just flowed together, it was far from elegant or beautiful but it was... cathartic, yes, that was the word, cathartic, soothing, calming, like it was pulling all that festering anger and releasing it. Or smoothing it into peace. Every night he would escape to the tower to play his music before returning to the dormitory and sleeping quietly and deeply.
It was how he met Meg.
She had heard him play more than once from her dormitory window and decided to find out who it was, he was the last person she had expected but she hadn't said anything, just wrapped herself in a blanket and sat down beside him to listen. Harry had been ashamed to realise that even though they were in the same year, he had no idea what her name was.
The morning after, she came and sat down at the Gryffindor Table, pulled a strand of his hair and demanded he budge over so she could join them. And from that point on, he hadn't been able to get rid of her.
Not that he wanted to actually, Meg really was the best and the worst thing that ever happened to him.
She was a true Hufflepuff, she stuck by him when she learned of the Horcruxes, just shrugging a shoulder and saying 'shit happens and now we just gotta deal with it' before grabbing a sheet of parchment and listing every disreputable bookshop she'd ever heard of to find some more about the vile things.
She had convinced him to stay in Hogwarts, to use it as his base of operations instead of living in a tent in the Forest of Dean, really, she came up with much more convincing arguments than Hermione – though they mostly consisted of blackmail and threats. Still it was a good idea as the rest of the country became more and more chaotic by the day, Revels became more and more common, Aurors dying left and right, Imperio being toss around like candy.
It was how Harry got one of his more serious injuries, a Sectumsempra to the back as he walked to the top of the Marble Staircase. A thin pale white scar ran from his right hip up to his left shoulder, a testament to Madam Pomfrey's skill that it was just a line and not a rope, a testament that he was still alive and functioning and capable of moving anything below his waist. He had ended up not only with spinal damage, near-death by blood loss but also concussion from cracking his skull as he fell down the staircase to the Entrance Hall below. Hermione saved his life with a series of rapid cast Cushioning Charms, he still had a dent in his skull from where she missed the first step he hit.
Later, holed up in a bed in the Hospital Wing, unable to move, for the potions and the pain, Meg explained that it was a Ravenclaw student under Imperio who had thrown the curse. No one knew who put her under, but it was definitely a Hogwarts Student as she showed no signs of Compulsion until ten minutes after she arrived in the Entrance Hall.
His recovery was slow, Meg, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Luna and Ginny often left the school on Horcrux Hunts, Meg would always tell him everything in detail while Hermione and Ron tried to down play just how life threatening some of the scrapes they'd gotten into really were. It caused Hermione and Meg to have a massive all out bitch fight between the two of them right in the middle of the Hospital Wing, they eventually calmed down, but only after Neville physically ripped them away from one another and shouted at them so loudly that even the Portraits were cowering in their frames by the time the usually docile Gryffindor had finished.
Weeks passed as Harry's strength gradually returned, though he was able to walk and talk and sit up and move, he still found things like running or magic beyond him, he was weak and it frustrated him. When Meg mentioned his musical escapades to Hermione one evening, the bookworm blinked in surprise before a light bulb seemingly went off above her head, then she bolted out of the room. Twenty minutes later, she came in and enlarged it.
A large peddle Harp, the strings were a little frayed, the paint faded and old, and Hermione was beaming as if she had just discovered the way to attain full Human Rights for House Elves and Goblins.
During his recovery period, one would quite often hear faint strains of music floating from the Hospital Wing, Harp or the Irish Low Whistle – the little so called 'flute' that Hagrid had carved for him. It was difficult at first, the Harp needed repair and tuning first but eventually – with a lot of help from some of the more musically orientated Portrait Figures, one in particular a stern faced old woman called Madam Sofie who used to be a professional Harpist drilled him in the basics before sitting back and listening to him blunder through before correcting him. Then came the challenge of finding music sheets where the Portraits once again proved invaluable, Madam Sofie in particular had a large number of Harp music sheets in her portrait which she was happy to fetch for him, she had apparently written them herself but not lived long enough to see them published – indeed, she doubted they ever had been, her husband was hardly approving of her hobby after all.
So Harry learned to master the Harp, though he continued to play the Low Whistle, particularly when Hagrid came to visit, he knew it made the Giant happy to hear his instrument being used, his face would flush with pride when he played, when something he made created such beautiful sounds.
Hermione's knitting seemingly involved into dress-making and embroidery, she was often seen wearing clothes she had made herself because they fit her better, she had unusually long arms and legs and was quite busty so finding clothing that fit was something of a challenge for her at times. Ron was a little stuck but eventually he started looking into Broomstick manufacture, he borrowed Harry's Firebolt and with Hermione and Luna's help managed to get through the Copywrite Charms on it and discover what made it one of the best brooms on the market. After that, he had an absolute ball of a time designing a specialised broomstick for each position on the Quidditch Pitch. He decided to model a Seeker's Broom first because he knew that it would be the most basic broom with the least done to it, light weight, very few stabilising Charms, increased speed, everything else for the other players could be added. He had done it; his first broom was the Nouge – named by Fleur and meaning cloud in French, an appropriate name as it pretty much was like flying on a puff of cloud.
Luna continued her painting; it was not an uncommon occurrence to see her long curly pale blonde hair pulled back into a sloppy bun by way of two paintbrushes. Neville continued with his gardening, only this time he was beginning to look into cross-pollinations to create new strains of useful Magical Plants, Meg called him a Sadist when she saw the row upon row of pots filled with what he called 'Ivy Thorn'. He neglected to mention Ivy Thorn was carnivorous. Harry doubted the Death Eaters would ever forget.
Meg had decided to follow in Charlie's footsteps, only she was less wild about the dragons and more interested in preserving the Magical Creatures on the verge of extinction, Snidgets were well and truly safe, no, she was more concerned about the majority of Magical Serpents that Wizards were stamping out from blind fear, rage and hatred for Voldemort. Her true love was the Japanese Kitsune and Kirin, two very rare and very magically powerful creatures, both on the verge of extinction, she went on and on about how when the war ended she would be going out to Japan to join their Breeding programme and conservation efforts, she would see those beautiful and wonderful creatures around the world if she had anything to say about it!
Drifting without a hobby of her own, Ginny kind of just took to going and cooking things for them, she ushered the House Elves away and made sandwiches, stew, desserts and eventually, her own Hobby. She grew to enjoy cooking and baking things, set herself challenges to make each cake more complicated and delicate, more beautiful and get more people to compliment them. Soon, the House Elves were asking her for hints and tips, having watched her from day one and realised her natural talent in the kitchen. At least Molly was ecstatic she hadn't gone down the path of her brothers in Quidditch, Pranks or Government.
Those hobbies kept them sane as the War escalated and the Ministry fell, Death Eaters attempting to storm the castle and subjugate the students, Neville's Ivy Thorn proved a very good deterrent in those days. He seeded the grounds next to the gate with so many of the things that the Death Eaters were practically beside themselves, this meant having to go through the Forbidden Forest to get to the castle, which meant either going through an Acromantula nest, or a Centaur herd. They went through the Acromantula, and even secured an alliance with them, they just forgot that Voldemort wasn't the only Parselmouth alive. And had no idea that what few Slytherin students had sided with the Order had broken Ministry Law – breeding Harry a dozen Basilisks.
They were young, infants really, barely six months old but already the size of a Brazilian Anaconda. An Ageing Potion took them forward a good four hundred years and though they were confused by their changes, Harry explained carefully enough and they were pleased to help him in defending the Nest. Snakes were simple creatures, they cared for very little beyond food, warmth, shelter, sex, a few of the more intelligent ones had other desires, like the python at the Zoo wanting to see Brazil or the Basilisk, driven mad from centuries of isolation and hungry from lack of food wanted nothing more than to kill and consume it's tormentors, the ones who abandoned it.
No active adult Death Eater stepped foot into Hogwarts in those days, the student ones they were ferreted out swiftly enough and confined to a make-shift dormitory where they would be dealt with upon the topple of the Dark Lord but none of them actually set foot into the castle.
Even Voldemort hadn't during the Final Battle.
No one knew what set him off, Harry certainly didn't, maybe it was just impatience, or anger that some school children continued to try and defy him. Hermione theorised he went to check on one of his Horcruxes only to discover it gone, it was a likely idea, and Voldemort knew well and good that the only people who would know he had those damnable things would be Dumbledore and, of course, the Boy-Who-Just-Refused-To-Die.
He tore through the Ivy Thorn, crushed one of the infant Basilisks and Avada'd the others when he couldn't convince them to join him, it was hard to say but it was probably for the better they died in battle. The Ministry of Magic, once they had been rebuilt, would have never stood for their existence and Harry did not want to be the wand to end their lives. He liked them.
His Death Eaters followed in close behind and the Lawns of Hogwarts became a battle field.
With Harry and Voldemort in the middle.
Harry couldn't remember much of the fight, it was too quick, raw instinct, action – reaction, don't stop, never stop, he just moved. He was aware of physically attacking Voldemort more than once, of chasing him across the lawns, pushing him back with ruthless, mindless ferocity.
He remembered being struck with a Killing Curse in the back of the head and being flung, like a rag doll, to the side.
He remembered opening his eyes to Voldemort's cruel cold laughter, to Meg and Hermione screaming while Ginny screeched curses and the boys roared in fury, he remembered seeing Neville armed with Gryffindor's sword cleave Nagini in half with a bellow of fury. He was so tired, so weak, his head hurt so much and his body was bruised in a thousand different places.
There was Voldemort. He was facing away. Fenrir Greyback wasn't.
He was staring at Harry with large hungry golden eyes even as the Boy Hero raised his arm, even as Fenrir lunged forward his body rippling into the large iron grey beast that was his name's sake.
And then he remembered, with cold crystal clarity, planting a reducto at the back of Voldemort's head, popping it like a zit – right before Fenrir's jaws locked onto his arm and the world went black.
He woke with a burning fever, restrained to his bed in the Hospital Wing, to Meg's tear stained face hovering above him how she promptly turned and shouted for Madam Pomfrey as she smoothed his hair from his forehead. Why was he so hot? His body hurt, a bone deep burning ache that refused to abate, his brain felt too big for his skull, his eyes were tired, scratchy and sore and his arm, he couldn't feel his arm.
He was a Werewolf.
Fenrir Greyback had turned him right before being flung from his unconscious body with the force of Luna's kick, the little blonde woman enhancing her strength with an obscure Ancient Magic Spell to physically punt the horse-sized wolf across the lawns and into the Forest.
But apparently something had gone wrong with the Turning process, it wasn't a full moon and Harry's heart had stopped, he was now more akin to the Lycans of Old than the Weres of today. He could change at will though the Moon still held thrall over him, forcing his transformation and driving his mind insane with the pain of the enforced transformation, there would be less strain on his body and more strain on his magic with the transformation though. Something he would not be able to handle any time soon as he was STILL recovering from dying and having the Horcrux living in his head removed. Harry spent a lot of time in the Hospital Wing recovering from his death and Turning, he played the Harp a lot as he felt his physical body changing ever so subtly every day. A side affect of his botched Turning.
He became a few inches taller, his already pale skin lightened just a touch more, his hair grew longer but calmed down even if it was still hopelessly wild, at least it didn't stick up to the same degree it used to at the back of his skull. He noticed there was no change to his physical speed or his senses beyond his eye sight, he no longer needed those damnable glasses and his hearing was somewhat sharpened, not overly much just enough to that he could hear things of a lower or higher frequency than he used to. And aside from an increased love of meat – any kind of meat – and an aversion to taking orders his behaviour had not changed overly much, he had in fact calmed down a lot, even if it did mean that he was a lot more vicious when he did snap.
When he was well enough to leave the Hospital Wing, that's when things changed.
The knowledge of his newly infected Status had somehow spread to the rest of the Wizarding World who, in true wizarding fashion, avoided him like the plague, a few spat at him, called him a monster and ushered their children away. A few, the smart ones, approached him, thanked him and apologised for his awful circumstances before going on their way, he preferred them. But everyone else's behaviour just made him wonder if this was why Fenrir had managed to get so many Werewolves to join his Pack when he offered them revenge. Ah well, Hermione had taken up a job in the Ministry during his recovery period and she was working hard to bring equal rights to Werewolves and House Elves – though concentrating more on Werewolves.
Ron was continuing with his Broomstick designs, only now 20-percent of his profits were going towards funding a Werewolf sanctuary where they could go and get Wolfsbane Potion and spend the Full Moon locked in a specialised room where they could be comfortable and entertained by a multitude of squeaky toys. Harry spent his first full moon in there due to the need for observation, to make sure nothing went wrong, his botched Turning was always a cause for concern amidst the others. But no, he had the time of his life, pouncing on the squeaky things and gambolling around the room, sniffing at things and gnawing on the old beef joints. The girls were of the opinion that his wolf form was absolutely beautiful while the guys were warning him never to transform near Hermione or Ginny or he would find himself being pinned down and made 'pretty'. He didn't know what idea was more scary, Hermione armed with ribbons, or the possibility of getting cursed while his back was turned again.
The remains of the DA had closed around him, snarling at the rest of the world and protecting him from the worst of the bigots, the one time Draco Malfoy had attempted to make something of his Furry Problem Ginny booted him in the testicles. His friends and the other survivors of the Final Battle had become incredibly protective and defensive of him, he was their Wolf goddamnit and no matter what anyone said they weren't going to let anyone hurt him. Or at least that was what Neville told him when he asked what the hell everyone was doing.
Which had probably led to this.
Harry had defeated Voldemort in April, the sixth to be exact, it should have been his sixth year at Hogwarts, he spent two weeks in the Hospital Wing before spending his first full moon in the Sanctuary. After that... he lived alone for the most part until October when Meg dragged him out and onto a plane heading for Tokyo, Japan. She had a house just outside the city, paid for by the Conservation Team she was working for, Harry was going to live with her as it would be too dangerous to have a werewolf in the middle of a Muggle City. Especially one as big as Harry. Normal Wolves do not grow to the size of Shetland ponies.
It was October the eleventh when Meg and Harry moved into their little house, it was nice, traditional Japanese styled with a few Western touches for comfort – like the double beds and the dining room table. There were only two rooms, Harry took the one that overlooked the back of the house and the fairly nice garden – Nev would have a field day with the landscaping while Meg took the one at the front of the house, incidentally she also got the biggest room but Harry preferred it like that.
Harry had to register at the Japanese Lycanthropy Office, it was Law and Japan was known for being tolerant of those with Lycanthropy in opposition to England. The JLO would ensure that the house was fit for Werewolf occupation, reinforce the basement, provide him with monthly doses of Wolfsbane Potion and, should he enter into a relationship, provide help and support for his other half in dealing with a Werewolf. If he found it difficult holding a job due to his affliction, then they would find him paid work that was flexible enough to allow his monthly absences. It took a great amount of effort not to feel extremely bitter and angry with the English Ministry, if they'd implemented this then people like Fenrir wouldn't have had such a huge power base, there wouldn't be so many hurt and angry werewolves out there just wanting to strike back and hurt those who hurt them.
It was November twenty third when Meg yet again turned his world on its head.
Sitting in the back garden on their little wooden porch with his Harp resting against his shoulder as he played an adaptation of Metallica's Nothing Else Matters(1).
Meg had arrived in the doorway, looking at though she were going to interrupt before smiling and sitting down on the floor, content to wait until he had finished playing before saying her piece. She loved listening to Harry play, he did it less than he used to but it just made his music seem all the more precious when he did.
She worried about her best friend, she really did, he had been so quiet and though he didn't act like it, he was withdrawing from them. He pretended like it didn't affect him but the mistreatment the Wizards gave him now that he was a Werewolf did hurt, it was the original reason why she suggested taking Harry with her to Japan when she chatted with Ron and Hermione last. But they had been there for all of a month and while she had been getting stuck into her work, she damn well knew Harry hasn't left the house once.
Well, that was going to change.
"I'm blackmailing you," she told him as the last notes faded away into nothing. Harry blinked and arched his eyebrow at her, "You're going to this school," she added throwing a magazine at his feet.
"Really now?" Harry asked dryly, setting the Harp aside and leaning over to grab the magazine. Meg nodded happily; she had given this a lot of thought, listened to what Harry told her before making some enquiries on his behalf. Kirin conservation was big in Japan, a lot of very wealthy and influential people gave them rather sizeable donations to ensure the success of the programme, she had been at a Charity Ball with several of those individuals when she had asked some questions about Muggle Schools in the area, schools that would not only have a very good security system but people who wouldn't care how rich your were or whether or not you were nobility or had health problems. Three out of five people recommended the Ouran Academy and after doing a little digging, Meg decided it was perfect.
"Here's your registration papers," she added, passing him a packet of papers she had gotten from the school's Superintendent, Suou Yuzuru, a very shrewd and intelligent man with full knowledge of the Magical Realm and a passing understanding of the role Harry Potter played in it, along with how to handle Lycanthropes. Evidentially, Harry wouldn't be the only werewolf attending the school.
Harry arched an eyebrow at her, picking up the packet, "Shouldn't there be more... blackmail for something like this?" he asked lightly.
Meg gave him a Look, "I have your underwear hostage and the floo addresses of your fangirls," she told him.
Harry was already pulling a pen out of his pocket by the time she mentioned 'addresses'.
The next full moon was a little rougher than either of them were expecting.
It seemed as though Harry's Inner!Wolf understood that they weren't in their home territory, that the rest of the Pack were elsewhere. It made him anxious and restless, the basement was nearly trashed by the time morning rolled around and Harry pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, whimpering slightly at the bruises and cuts and bites that littered his arms and legs. While he may have retained control, his Inner!Wolf was still nervous, that relayed into trying to get out and chewing on things, even himself.
The JLO had a Medi-Wizard on his doorstep that morning, as was procedure after every Full Moon, to give him a thorough check up and advise on what kind of foods to eat for the next three days until the Moon was visibly waning away from Full. The Werewolf population in Japan was fairly small, one wolf to every three hundred magicals, so the Ministry liked to keep an eye on them, make sure they were taken care of and weren't infecting other people. Having Lycanthropy in Japan was a little like having Cancer in the Muggle World, specialist care and special consideration from others.
Harry sighed as he lounged on the roof, he'd escaped Meg for the afternoon but he knew she would be trying to drag him to the Centre tomorrow, she thought he didn't get out enough, personally he just said he had no interest in wondering unknown territory. Still, he was a little bored and it had been a while since he had gone and done something physically intensive...
He'd always wanted to learn hand to hand, something he had been perhaps only the slightest bit jealous of Dudley for, unjustifiably in any case.
Wushu, Muay Thai, Taijiquan, Shaolin Boxing, Bagua Zhang, Xingyi Quan, Karate, Taekwondo, Judo, Kung fu, MMA, Aikido, and those were just the ones he knew of that he might have a chance of learning. Sumo was beyond him, Kendo was interesting but he had no interest in having a weapon and more in being a weapon. Less chance of being unarmed unless someone quite literally took his arm off. So far he was leaning more towards MMA and Muay Thai simply because there was a Gym down the road that offered both along with Western White Collar Boxing.
He sighed, he needed to work on his Japanese anyway, why not attend the lessons and make some friends willing to mock him in Japanese so he can return fire. Bantering usually helped him learn languages oddly enough, he was fairly fluent in Bulgarian and Russian, knew a bit of Norwegian and Mandarin Chinese from some of the people who attended the Twi-Wizard Tournament and from listening to the multicultural students at Hogwarts.
Getting to his feet he slid down the remainder of the roof and hopped off into the second floor balcony where his room was. He had to do this quickly before Meg found him and dragged him out to tramp in the mud and fight through Kitsune illusions and get electrocuted by tetchy Kirins.
Grabbing his wallet he snuck downstairs and skittered past the kitchen where Meg was grumbling and nursing a bottle of milk with a mutinous expression. Slipping his trainers on, he opened the front door as quietly as possible before slamming it shut behind him as he legged it down the road.
Meg's bellowing dwindled and Harry chuckled as he slowed down in front of the Gym, she wouldn't bother following him on anything that wasn't a car or a broom, he was the fastest out of everyone in the group.
Hitting the buzzer he spoke in what he hoped was passable Japanese, "Res-sun no yoyaku ga dekimasu ka?" he questioned, the person on the other end seemed to be a little surprised by the accent but never the less agreed and told him to push the door open and come upstairs.
It was a narrow hallway leading up a flight of stairs to a small well with a mirror on one wall and another flight leading up a further floor where a collection of shoe-racks were waiting for him along with a pretty European woman with a strong jaw and black eye.
"Hello, didn't expect to see someone from England this far East," she greeted him cheerfully as he toed his trainers off, "I'm Kate."
"Harry, nice to meet you," he said, shaking her hand, she had a good grip, no doubt she was a fighter here too.
"Now, you said you wanted to book onto a lesson right? What kind?" she asked, leading him into the main Gym Area, it was fairly large, lots of blue mats on the floor, a punching bag hanging from the ceiling in one corner, a door at the far end reading toilets and a proper boxing ring, one wall was full of rather tired looking pads – no doubt the group pads. The office seemed to also double as a shop for all the sporting gear.
"Um, wasn't quite sure. I just knew I'd go crazy sitting around at home for another day doing nothing. I gave some thought to both Muay Thai and MMA but I'm not quite sure what they entail," he admitted a little sheepishly.
Kate nodded, "No that's fine, I often get some Japanese in here asking the same questions. Right, MMA is also known as Mixed Martial Arts, it's a bit of everything all mixed together. It tends to have a fair bit of grappling and ground wrestling though, that's put a few people off it and judging by the look on your face you aren't too keen on it either," she pointed out with a laugh at the way Harry's nose scrunched at the idea of having to roll around on the ground with some complete stranger, not his idea of fun. "I do Muay Thai myself so I can probably give you a little more information, I'm just one of the fighters so I don't know the technical stuff that Sensei will but Muay Thai is otherwise known as Thai Kickboxing. It's the original Kickboxing before it got watered down for us Westerners," she explained as she drew up a few forms from one of the filing cabinets, Gym membership forms he assumed, "Basically, it's using your whole body in a fight, knees, elbows, fists, feet, not sure if heads are legal but I've seen it done in illegal Street Fights in downtown. Muay Thai is pretty much considered one of the more vicious and effective of Martial Arts, at least by the Thai, they have their soldiers learn it as basic unarmed combat training."
Harry hummed thoughtfully, "When's the next beginners Muay Thai?" he finally asked after thinking about it.
"Wednesdays at about seven-O'clock, the Beginner's course doesn't require you get your own kit, but the Improver's – the second set up from it – does. Here, the registration forms, the equipment list, our timetables, prices and a leaflet advertising our next major Muay Thai cage fight. If you've never seen professional Muay Thai it might be an idea to show up," she advised him with a smile. Harry nodded and filled in the forms, Beginner's Course along with Gym Membership and Insurance for roughly a year cost him about what he assumed was nearly ninety pounds in Yen.
Hmm... he was probably going to get a few bruises from this, he should stock up on potions – bruise salve especially, and now that he thought about it, he was rather hungry and he did need a new Post Owl. He would love Hedwig forever and a day but... he needed someone to help him carry mail to and from England.
Sighing, the dark haired male returned home, Meg would know where the Magic Quarter was.
Kick Boxing was actually a relief when he started it.
Stretching, running, the warm up was probably more physically intensive than the actual lesson to be honest, Kate was very good, she would speak her instructions in Japanese and then clarify the parts that Harry didn't understand in English. She never had to repeat herself, Harry may have been a little irritated at first to always pair off with one of the girls, there were only two and he was fairly sure one of them was the daughter of a minor Yakuza while the other one was just very forward. They were good, he stopped minding very quickly as they traded blows and learned the basics. It was fun and Harry soon found himself hesitantly stumbling through conversation with her. Her name was Moriko, no last name was offered and Harry never gave his either.
Amber, his new Post Assistant, a rather beautiful and smart young female Honey Buzzard, had fit right into their lives and turned out to be rather affectionate, not mothering like Hedwig had been but definitely friendly, if rather mischievous.
His next Full Moon was smoother, calmer, it was just hitting December and it seemed as though his Inner!Wolf – which those back home were still debating on an appropriate name for, right now it was a tie between Brush, for his somewhat fluffy tail, and Lobo, for a demonic white wolf in a Computer Game that Meg used to play in the Summer Holidays. Harry preferred Lobo if he was perfectly honest.
Either way, he had just been through a Full Moon a few days before the Ouran Superintendent called him, asking for an interview.
Ouran wasn't what he... It was pink.
That alone nearly had Harry turning around and walking in the opposite direction and living in the basement until Meg got over her weird phase of trying to 'Socialise' him. Ha, good luck with that.
Still, Suou-san was a very charming man, he didn't look surprised nor overtly scandalised when Harry showed up in a pair of old baggy jeans and his much loved black leather jacket – a present from Sirius for Christmas before his death at the end of his fifth year. The students were another matter.
The girls in their poufy yellow dresses stared at him and clustered away from him in groups, it reminded him so much of the way that the wizards reacted in those first few days of his freedom outside the Hospital Wing that a scowl had shuttered over his face almost out of reflex. No one approached him after that, no one save a young girl who seemed to be late for something as she ran – rather slowly – down the hall and toward what he assumed was the East Wing of the school.
In all, things went well and Harry found out that he definitely had a place in the school, they just needed to finalise everything, obtain records from his previous school and from the British Government and then translate the Magical subjects into Muggle Japanese ones. He just had to choose which subjects he wanted to pursue and then submit to a full Physical examination day so the School records could be up to date as he didn't have a private physician.
Harry had shrugged a shoulder and let him handle all the planning, that wasn't really his thing. He was more of a...
Go in and blow shit up, kinda guy.
Christmas came and went, he and Meg Portkey'ed back to England to spend it with the Weasleys and everyone else in the Burrow where the two of them received various presents from those near and dear to them.
From Hermione, Harry received a Japanese Hakama and Gi in rich crimson and burgundy with a dark almost bloody gold Haori she made herself following patterns she found online. The Haori had a black silhouette of a Wolf at Full Moon on the back.
Ron gave him his latest Seeker Broom Design, the White Falcon. White Aspin wood, slender handle with a delicate varnish that made it seem like it almost had a silvery blue sheen to it, the twigs were a collection of stripped white Oak bound in a thin streamline bundle with Acromantula silk, not a single one poking out like on the Nouge who's tale was fan shaped yet flat. Just touching it, Harry could feel that this Broom was the best and the most difficult to handle he had ever seen, so light and powerful, the stabilising Charms on it could only be controlled by the flyer the Enchantments were designed for incredible agility but were also controlled by the flyer meaning that nothing on this broom was automatic. One half of your mind had to be on the game and the other hand on actively controlling the Broom. Harry knew that it had been built somewhat like a Wand, there was something in the Broomstick giving it an innate magic that the Enchantments couldn't, a feather from some kind of magical bird, or perhaps it was the Varnish it's self. Harry wasn't going to ask. He just hugged his bestfriend and told him that he was a genius and it was the best broom he'd ever held in his hands. Ron flushed crimson from his ears to his belly-button at the praise.
Luna had painted him a picture; it was all of them in the Lawns of Hogwarts with the long departed dead. Lily Potter had her arms wrapped around her son, James Potter had an arm slung over her shoulder but was busy defending himself from a boisterous Sirius who was laughing and teasing him while Remus stood beside them laughing and Tonks held little Teddy Lupin, the two of them smiling with Teddy clapping his hands, hair bright yellow to match Tonks's bright violet. Albus Dumbledore stood beside his brother, Aberforth, who had his arms folded and a mutinous expression on his face as his older brother twinkled at him. Ron and Hermione were amidst the small army of Weasleys, Fleur stood with her sister, Krum and Cedric who was hugging a happy Cho Chang. He could see everyone, even Snape who was stood beside McGonagall – who was attempting to push him towards Lily Potter to go and talk to her, the old Witch's face was mischievous and revealing her own former Prankster nature. Luna received an extra tight hug and a kiss on the cheek from him.
Ginny made him a large box of cakes and cream treats – they were eaten before the end of the day but she only beamed brighter for their obvious enthusiasm.
Meg had a large present for him, it was a box and it sounded like there were a lot of things in there. Ripping it open he could only blink in surprise at the black 14oz Boxing Gloves, Black shinpads, red Muay Thai shorts, red hand wraps, red ankle supports, Gum Shield and Groin Guard that greeted him. Apparently, Meg had gone to see Kate and had her help in picking out all the equipment he would need for the Improver's Course and all the courses after it along with Sparring and anything that would follow.
Neville had given him a number of paper seed packets; they were his newest Cross-breed, purely decorative and very pretty, easy to care for. They were a surprise though, they flowered all year around so he wouldn't have to worry about dead-heading or more seeds and the like, as long as he kept them in separate pots he didn't have to worry about breeding possibilities – apparently they needed to connect roots to breed like the Mandrakes.
In return, Harry had gotten Hermione two books; one of Japanese Magical History and another on Traditional Kimono making, along with several bolts of raw silk and patterned cotton. She was positively ecstatic at his gift.
Ron received raw materials for another broom, all of the wood from Japan and China, y'know, just to see if there was anything in there he could use. He was excited and already smoothing his hands over the Japanese Cherry Blossom wood to see if there was anything he could get from it, the grain was perfect at least; if he couldn't get a broom out of it he could at least make a nice coffee table.
Luna received a multitude of marker pens and a Japanese calligraphy set, plus paper and ink sticks. She gave him a dreamy thank you and spent the rest of the visit perched in his lap – ignoring the momentary glare Ginny sent her way.
Neville was difficult to find a present for so Harry settled for getting him a little Bonsai tree.
For Ginny it was a cookbook of sweets and desserts unique to Japan and a few boxes of Pocky and traditional Teacakes. She was equally curious about the treats and though she didn't like all of them she loved the Pocky and the recipes were new and exciting, all in all, she was quite happy.
Mrs Weasley made his usual Sweater; this one was green with a black crescent moon on it and a V-necked collar, it made him feel guilty about only giving her two boxes of traditional Tea, Jasmine and green.
In all, it was a damn good Christmas and the New Years Party at Shell Cottage was a bit more wild than anyone expected – culminating in Ginny making out with Dean Thomas and Harry getting caught in a New Years liplock with Viktor Krum.
Then they were back in Japan, Harry had another Full Moon on his own, he was calm though, Lobo – they finally decided on the name – spent most of his time sleeping and chewing on a squeaky bone the size of a skateboard.
Meg eventually did manage to get him to join her at the Reserve where he spent most of his time in his Lycan form helping them track an injured Kirin foal, a young Filly. It was fun though, he couldn't change into his Wolf Form as often as he would have liked, the Full Moon gave him no choice and the pain drove him wild so he needed to remain in the basement or he might attack someone, Wolfsbane or not – the botched Turning ironically rendered him largely immune to the Wolfsbane but he was required by Law to keep taking it. So the chance to cut loose and run wild across pure wilderness was a very welcome one and Harry was considering the idea of joining Meg more often.
April seemed to come just that little bit too quickly for Harry's comfort as he found himself sat behind Meg on her motorbike – he would be getting the train home but she had business in one of the centres overlooking Tokyo harbour and offered to give him a lift in on the first day.
She whistled as they came to a stop outside the building, "Now that's a fantastic waste of money," she exclaimed in surprise. Harry shrugged as he climbed off her bike and pulled his helmet off before stuffing it into one of the side bags she had on the back.
"What do you expect?" he asked flatly, "These people were born into money, they don't really think much about wiping their backsides with a 50,000 yen note," he pointed out, perhaps a little more judgementally than he normally would but... it just rankled him to see such a waste of money, money that could go to more important or better things. Maybe it was just his upbringing with the Dursleys showing through but Harry was quite stingy with his money.
Meg shrugged a shoulder, "Stay out of trouble Lobo, these people ain't like you or me, their skin isn't as thick so watch your manners and try, please honestly try to keep a civil tongue in your mouth. For me," the brunette pleaded, grabbing his wrist.
Harry sighed and patted her helmet, "I'll do my best, Meg, no promises though."
She sighed and waved him off, "I'll see you at home and for god's sake Harry! Make some friends!" she ordered before gunning the engine and peeling away with a roar of sound as Harry waved her goodbye and shifted his backpack and marched into the school grounds.
Again, people stared as he walked past but he merely lifted his chin and continued forward, tightening his grip on his bag strap feeling more than a little out of place and scruffy in comparison to everyone else who had immaculate uniforms and neat and tidy hair.
Harry had taken a more laid back approach to his uniform, his blazer was open, his shirt untucked and unbuttoned a little, his tie was a little loose and he wore a black leather choker and a set of engraved army tags reading his full name, Marauder name, date of birth, House at Hogwarts, Wand wood and core and the words: D.A. Commander. A gift from Charlie that Christmas. Around his wrist was his Medic Alert bracelet listing his severe allergy to Silver and several other Muggle Drugs that wouldn't agree with Werewolf physiology, or Wizard physiology. He wore baggy black slacks held up by a dark green belt, a chain wrapped around his waist attached to his wallet hidden in his backpocket, his hair was a little long – he was trying to get it as long as Bill's – and had just enough length to be pulled into a scruffy little ponytail at the nape of his neck. Over his blazer he wore his leather jacket as he had no intention of scraping himself raw if he got into a traffic accident on Meg's crotch rocket.
In all, he looked more like he belonged in a Public School in England than a very expensive Private school in Japan. But he wasn't changing.
The Secretary looked at him as though he had just clawed himself out of a sewer and asked if he could sniff her underwear when he stopped in front of her, "Potter Harry, I'm the transfer from England," he stated sharply in crisp Japanese when he caught her expression, watching as she paled and began to rummage for his timetable, School I.D. and a Map of the Campus.
"Here you go Potteru-san, you're in Class 3-A, North Wing, third floor," she told him, pointing to the location on the map as she handed them over.
"Thank you," he squinted at the little badge on her breast, "Shirada-san," he said before turning on heel and marching off, the woman staring after him in slight confusion.
Class 3-A was apparently the Senior Class for those of very high standing in Japan, begged the question about how – Suou-san had obviously done his homework then, Harry refrained from sighing and hitting the nearest wall. Well, time to face the music.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the sliding door into what he would later dub the beginning of the nightmare.
(1) http (dot ) / www (dot) youtube (dot) com/watch?v (equals) TCXFcCnhbQA . I found this while looking for Harp clips, I couldn't choose whether or not I wanted Harry to play the Harp or the Flute, this girl decided it for me. She is very skilled and I definitely recommend listening to her work. If this link doesn't work, try typing into the search engine 'Harp/Harpe Metallica Nothing Else Matters' Look for the brunette playing the harp in her backgarden. She is wearing orange I believe.
01/06/10 Just a quick edit to put the page breaks back in.