Hello! Otome here! Well, here's my second story. I was originally planning on just doing one story at a time, until I got used to writing fanfiction like this, but I saw a challenge, and… I just couldn't pass it up.

- Harry Potter/Howl's Moving Castle: Harry has always wished for adventure since everyday he worked in a hat shop for his aunt and uncle. But what he didn't want was for a wizard to sweep him off his feet, a evil witch to turn him into a GIRL! Get stalked by a scare crow and get picked up by Howl's Moving Castle! (Harry/Howl)

That was the description, and I couldn't resist. Anyway, I hope you like it! *crosses fingers* I tried to be true to the movie. As in, I would watch some, pause it, and then write.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Howl's Moving Castle, OR the story idea.


As long as anyone could remember, the castle had walked the hills and fields by our town, Grimmauld. It wasn't really a castle, per se, more a walking pile of junk enchanted by magic. A wizard lived there, so of course it was magic.

Everyone called it Howl's Moving Castle. Why? It was believed that the wizard was named Howl, though no one had ever seen him. The castle was seen quite frequently, but usually by the shepherds living out in the fields with their flocks. Whenever it came close enough to be seen by the town, everyone gathered, excited.

Why? It was just walking junk, magic or no. However, most people didn't see it that way.


A train rumbled by the window, sending up smoke as it went. Probably the Hogwarts Express. It passed by a lot.

A boy sat by the window, focused on his work of sewing accessories onto a hat. He had ebony hair, long ebony hair that was pulled back into a ponytail, and eyes, a startling emerald green. His structure was delicate, girlish, as was his outfit, though it was pants, and not a skirt or dress. Nevertheless, he looked like either a very girly boy, or a slightly tomboyish girl. Both of which irked him, though he attempted to hide it.

"Boy!" His head snapped up as his Aunt Petunia called him. She stood in the doorway, frown on her face, and he tensed, as if waiting a punishment. "You better finish all those hats before you go, boy. Got it?" Harry nodded, swallowing slightly, and then let his breath escape him as she turned away, clearly down with him.

"Girls!" his Aunt called, motioning towards the female workers at the hat shop. "Come on, let's go." They complied, talking, chattering and giggling as they grabbed their hats, their purses, and whatever else girls bring with them when they go places.

"Wait! It's Howl's Castle!" One of the girls shrieked, dashing to the window in the other room. The others quickly followed, chattering in excitement. Harry was glad, at that moment, that he couldn't see his Aunt Petunia. She would be looking mighty pissed around then, and she would most likely take it out on her nephew. Harry didn't understand why, but she was completely against all forms of magic. Not that there were many in a small town like this, but Howl's Castle was definitely one of those.

He looked out, and saw Howl's Castle, disappearing into the mist. A sigh escaped his lips as the war planes passed over that spot. Stupid planes. Taking away the one thing that could bring a bit of excitement… For that's what he longed for. Not necessarily excitement, but adventure. Anything to get away from the dreariness that was his life, and to get away from his Aunt and Uncle. Oh, and don't forget his insufferable cousin, Dudley.

"He's gone!"

"No, he's just hiding in the fog from those planes."

"Did you hear about that girl Martha from South Haven? They say Howl tore her heart out."

"Now I'm too scared to go out!"

"Don't you worry, he only preys on pretty girls!"

All the girls laughed, and a ghost of a smile flickered over Harry's face, before he returned to focus on his hat-making. As such, he didn't hear the girl's come up behind him. "And pretty boys." They whispered, blowing on the back of Harry's neck. He jumped, startled, grabbing the spot where they blew.

Laughing, one of the girl's warned Harry, "You better watch out! Howl likes pretty boys more than he likes pretty girls! So you're in trouble!" He waved them off, slightly peeved, and focused on his hat once more.

He could hear his Aunt Petunia calling the girls, and they left, only those three remembering to say good-bye. Ginny, Cho, and Luna. They were the nicest out of all the hat-making girls, though they loved to tease him. Those three were probably the closest thing he had to friends, besides Hermione though he didn't really consider them as such. Still… he would've preferred having them here right now. It was silent in the shop, and their words kept ringing in Harry's ears.

The Hogwarts Express ran by again, just as Harry finished the hat he was working on. Placing it on a hat stand, he looked through the stacks of plain hats, finally selecting a red one. He liked red. Red and gold, though he didn't know why. They were quite pretty together, and made him think of adventures, and bravery, for some reason.

Harry sighed, looking down at the hat. He really didn't want to stay and work on any more. Perhaps he could weasel his way out of doing them? Getting out of the chair where he had sat for what seemed like all day, Harry stretched, and then slapped his behind, trying to get some feeling into it. "Ugh…"

Quickly, he gathered up all the unadorned hats, and put them into the storage room, where they were kept. It took four trips, but, hey, at least he wouldn't have to decorate all of them. When it was like this, it seemed as if he HAD done all the work. No way in hell was Harry actually going to sit here and do twenty-some hats.

Grabbing his blue jacket, and pulling it on over his shirt, Harry doused all the lights, blowing out the candles and such. Time to pack up the shop.

He left, locking the door to the workplace behind him, and went up the stairs to the back entrance of the shop. Once in, he surveyed himself in the mirror. Harry wore a white short-sleeved shirt, with the blue jacket over it. For bottoms, he wore a pair of loose blue pants, made of cotton and nice and comfy. Black boots covered his feet, though he had tucked them underneath his pants.

Seeing his reflection, Harry sighed. He looked too, well, girlish. The fifteen-year-old had lost count of how many times he had been mistaken for a girl, and, really, it was getting old. Quickly. Frowning at his reflection one more time, he stuck out his tongue, and then laughed slightly at his childish antics.

Leaving the building, he locked the door to the shop. A few planes roared overhead, but that was a common sight, really. After all, there was a war going on.

Harry dashed quickly across the streets, avoiding all the cars and such, and catching a crowded bus just in time. He hung on the outside, holding onto a handle, with his loose pants blowing in the wind. Harry didn't like it when his pants did that, because it made him feel like he was wearing a skirt or dress.

Skirt/Dress issues aside, from where he was standing, the boy had a pretty clear view of what was going on. Tanks rolled underneath the bridges, soldiers marched in perfect formation, the cavalry with their highly trained horses, and the people cheering.

Sighing, Harry made his way through the vast crowd, displeased with the whole thing. Sure, he wanted adventure, but war was something else all together. People… died.


A toddler Harry smiled up at his mother, with her russet-colored hair. She laughed, their identical eyes twinkling, and looked up as her husband burst through the door. He had messy black hair, just as his young son did. However, he looked worried. "Lily! They're coming!"

Her eyes widened in fear, and she scooped up Harry, dashing for the door. Before the couple and their child could make it through, soldiers appeared in the door.

They immediately shot Lily, and she crumpled dead to the floor, Harry in her arms. "Lily!" James yelled, shifting in a stag form and charging the soldiers. Several were impaled on his horns, before he began to get filled with lead, riddled with bullets.

The little Harry blinked, and proceeded to tug on his mother's shirt. "Mama. Mama."


According to his Aunt and Uncle, his parents had been killed because they were spies, and it was only through their grace that Harry hadn't been killed along with them. He wasn't sure that was the case, though. Even if his parents WERE spies, wouldn't they just be locked up? And besides, why would they kill a one-year-old kid, even in that situation?

Harry sighed, making his way through back-alleys, as so not to get caught up in the crowd. But… he felt like he was lost. Pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, he examined it, squinting slightly. What the hell kind of map was this? The boy might have to brave the crowds after all, unfortunately.

He was too busy looking at the map, however, to watch where he was going. Harry looked up, just in time to catch himself. He had almost run into a man. Gasping, he took a step back, looking up at the blonde soldier. "Hey, look's like a little mouse lost its way."

Harry knew this type. They were flirts, either mistaking him for a girl, or not caring at all. "I'm not lost," he lied indignantly to the man, shaking his head. Internally, he was screaming: WHO THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU CALLING A MOUSE!?

"This little mouse looks thirsty. We should take her for a cup of tea." He spoke again, and another soldier appeared from behind him, brown-haired with a mustache. Presumably older than the first.

"I don't want any damn tea," Harry told them, trying to hide the quaver in his voice. He was pissed, because they were, well, here, and because they thought he was a girl. Honestly, what girls wear pants!? Really!? But he was also frightened, though he didn't know how you could be both at the exact same time. It didn't make much sense to him, and, yet, he was the one who was experiencing both emotions.

"Pretty cute, for a mouse," his friend spoke up, making Harry swallow in fear. "And feisty, too." The soldier leaned in, making the boy take a step back.

"So what's your name? How old are you? Do you live around here?" The blonde began firing off questions, making Harry take another step back.

"Leave me alone!" he demanded, both anger and fear swelling up inside of him.

The blonde laughed, turning to his friend. "See, your mustache scares off all the girls."

That was it, that was the last straw. Harry was pissed. "I'm not a-!" He began, but was cut off as a hand was placed on his shoulder.

"Sorry I kept you waiting, sweetheart. I was looking everywhere for you." Harry looked up, and saw a blonde man with longish hair, though not as long as Harry's, and crystal blue eyes.

"Hey, hey, we're busy here!" The blonde snarled at the newcomer, clearly displeased.

"Really?" the newcomer asked, sounding amused. "It looked to me like the two of you were just leaving." He flicked his finger several times, and they straightened up, and marched off in military style. Harry's eyes widened as he looked back up at the man. A wizard! Excitement filled him. A real live wizard!

"Don't hold it against them. They're actually not all that bad," the wizard told him. Harry nodded, too stunned and scared to speak. "Where to? I'll be your escort this evening." He leaned in slightly, making Harry draw back a tinge. Did the wizard know he was a boy? Probably not, or else he wouldn't have been saved.

"Oh, umm…" Normally, Harry would've shrugged off the person, as he would want to be independent, take care of himself, and not be by a person who thought he was a girl, but… It was a wizard, after all! How many people would pass up that chance? "J-Just to the bakery. My friend works there."

The wizard leaned in a tad more. "Don't be alarmed, but I'm being followed," he told him, his voice barely above a whisper. "Act normal." He offered his arm, and Harry took it, holding on to it perhaps a bit more tightly than what was necessary. A slight smirk came onto the wizard's face, but it was gone as quickly as it had come, making Harry wonder if he had just imagined it.

Harry exhaled quietly, holding back a flood of questions. Even if he was a wizard, the boy still had an overflow of curious questions, but he figured that wouldn't be "acting normal". Too bad, because he really wanted to know some things. Like the wizard's name, why he was being followed… things like that.

Silently, they walked through the back ways. Oh God, he was nervous. A bit scared too, but the whole thing was sort of exhilarating. Strange noises came from behind them, and Harry attempted to see what they were coming from without moving his head. He was unable to, but the wizard spoke, "Sorry. Looks like you're involved."

He gasped, looking ahead of them, and then clutched tightly at the wizard. There were things… black, gooey figures with hats sliding out of the wall. Harry was squeezing the wizard's arm tightly, and his other hand went up to grasp at the wizard's shirt, pulling it into a fist in his hands. Oh God. Sure, he wanted adventure, but this was frightening. This was magic, and that was something that Harry knew virtually nothing about.

The wizard pulled him to a back way on the side. "This way." The creature-things followed them as the pair sped up, passing by a sleeping homeless man… But more appeared, coming out of the wall a bit in front of them. Harry gasped, but the wizard spoke again. "Hold on." Hold on to what? Desperately, he tightened his grip on the young man, as the wizard grabbed him around the waist.

They shot up in the air, like flying, leaving the creatures behind to crash into each other. Harry gasped for like the fifth time, curling himself up into the air. "Now, straighten your legs, and start walking." For a moment, Harry thought the wizard was kidding, but the young man did it, so Harry copied him, straightening his legs. There was still nothing underneath them, not in feeling or in sight, but he began walking, one foot in front of the other. Gasping once more, the boy let out a laugh, delighted. Sure, it was weird, but it was so cool!

He could see the town underneath them, and it was like they were a moving floor, and they were walking on top of it. "See? Not so hard, is it?" the wizard asking, smiling. The young man was holding Harry's hands in the air, holding on to both of them gently yet firmly. Harry shook his head, his mouth and face so overcome with the sheer delight of it all that he couldn't speak.

The wizard laughed slightly at Harry's delight as they passed over the square. It was pure wonder to Harry that none of them looked up and saw them, but he felt like waving to the people below, and would've, had his hands been free. Of course, the boy had NO qualms at all with having the wizard hold his hands. A faint blush came onto his face as he thought that, but he dismissed it with a shake of the head.

"You are a natural," the wizard praised him, as they stepped from one rooftop to the next, before continuing their walk in midair.

Harry smiled up at him, before returning his eyes to the ground. "It's amazing," he murmured, unable to take his eyes off of it. The young man didn't reply, but merely squeezed Harry's hands for a moment, causing the boy to turn a very light shade of pink.

They stepped through the air, alighting on the railing of the balcony of the bakery. The wizard gently lowered Harry to the floor, removing one of his hands, but still holding on with another. "I'll be sure to draw them off. But wait a bit before you go outside."

The boy nodded as their hands parted. "Will do."

"That's my boy."

Harry's eyes widened, and an expression of shock came over his face. "Y-You knew I was a b-boy? Not that I wanted you to not know, it's that…" Realizing he was blabbering, he shut his mouth, turning a light shade of pink.

The wizard merely smiled, before bending over and taking Harry's hand in his own. Bending over, he brushed his lips over the hand, then releasing it. The boy turned pink. Wow, his face was getting darker every time, wasn't it?

The young man stepped backwards off of the balcony railing, falling, but slower than a normal person would. Gasping in fear and worry for the wizard, Harry ran to the railing, but was surprised to see no one there. The mysterious wizard had vanished.


Quickly, Harry told his friend, Hermione, the whole story. She played with a strand of her curly brown hair, equally as brown eyes thoughtful. "He must've been a wizard, then, if he could do that."

Harry nodded. "That's what I thought, only… I expected wizards to be frightening. He really wasn't…" The boy trailed off, seeking the word. "He was… charming."

"Of course he was! He was trying to steal your heart!" Hermione interjected, flabbergasted at his idiocy. "If that were Howl…" She trailed off as Harry gave her a look. "You need to be more careful out there! With you being who you are, it's dangerous!"

Before Harry could reply, a call came from the kitchen. "Hermione! The chocolate éclairs are done!"

"I'll be right there!" Hermione called back. Her eyes widened in surprise as Harry stood up.

"I just wanted to drop by and see how you were doing." She sighed, realizing that she couldn't win an argument with her best friend.


The trip home was uneventful. It was mostly Harry thinking about the wizard, as he walked the familiar roads. The boy couldn't decide whether it was because of the charms of the wizard, or of magic, but he decided it didn't matter, after all.

It was dark by the time Harry reached home. Locking the door behind him as he stepped inside, taking off his coat and hanging it up, before going farther into the room. He hadn't left any lamps burning, which might not have been a smart idea, as it was quite dim in the room.

Lighting a lamp, a tinkle at the door warned him that someone had come in. Turning around, his eyes widened slightly at the person. It was an enormously tall, enormously fat woman, with rolls of fat on her neck.

Shaking himself out of his shock, Harry spoke, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but the shop's closed." How'd she get in? Hadn't he locked it? Oh, puzzle it over later, when she was gone.

The looming woman stepped farther into the room. "What a tacky little shop. And what tacky little hats." Harry agreed with her, at least a little, on those sentiments, but apparently she wasn't through, turning to look at him. "But you're by far the tackiest thing here."

Harry stiffened, moving to put the counter between him and the woman. Something didn't… feel right about her. It was a frightened feeling, and he didn't like it. It reminded him of the goo creatures, from earlier with the wizard. "Ma'am, if you're just here to insult this shop, then I'm afraid you'll have to leave." Mustering up all his courage, he walked past her, opening the door. "The door's over here. Like I said, we're closed." A bit of irritation crept into his voice. God, would the freakish woman just leave already?

She turned, a bit of a surprised and yet satisfied look on her face. "Standing up to the Witch of the Waste, now that's plucky."

Gasping as her words sunk in, Harry spoke, "The Witch of the Waste?" Hearing a familiar sound, he turned to see two more of those things from earlier, albeit more dressed up. Harry turned back towards the inside, hoping to get away that way, but…

The Witch had grown bigger, and slightly transparent. With a woosh, she passed over and what felt like through Harry, leaving him crumpled slightly on the floor, his breathing ragged. "The best part of that spell is that you can't tell anyone. Send my regards to Howl." The door shut behind her, leaving Harry on the floor, listening to his uneven breaths. Howl? How did he know that guy?


Woo! It's over! That was, what, 10 ½ minutes of the movie? At this rate, it'll take forever. Don't matter, though, I like it.

So far, I haven't changed much of the story story itself, though I plan to do that later on. It'll be much easier when Harry's under the curse.

Please, R and R!