~ kittykittyhunter ~

He stared listlessly at the screen, warmed by the August sun creeping across the living room. He was half-watching an old movie – the adventures of the boy wizard, Harry Potter. It was strange, but Echizen Ryoma soon understood that he hadn't even known the original name of the first movie – no sorry, book. Apparently, it mentioned a Philosopher, not a Sorcerer.

The twelve year old yawned, wondering vaguely where Karupin was. Anyway, he thought, settling against the soft cushions, weren't philosophers just guys who thought a lot?

What a job.

Inevitably, Ryoma fell asleep. He was comfortable, it was a lazy afternoon, and Seigaku had won the Nationals. He could let his guard down…

Harry Potter completed his first training session with the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, the burly fifth-year, Oliver Wood. The older student was delighted with his Seeker's natural talent: he clapped Harry across the shoulders so enthusiastically that the boy's glasses jumped down his nose. Assuring Harry that Gryffindor were certain to win the Cup this year, Wood sauntered away, carrying the crate that contained the Quaffle, two Bludgers and the Golden Snitch.

Harry was about to follow when he heard an urgent hiss.


He turned towards the voice – there was a boy glowering at him. It was clear that both Harry and the stranger were short for their respective ages… he definitely hadn't been on the pitch a minute ago…

But… Harry frowned when he realised that the boy wasn't dressed in the Hogwarts robes at all: in fact, he was wearing trainers, shorts, a polo shirt and a baseball cap. There was something slung over one shoulder – wait, was that a tennis bag?

Did Hogwarts have clubs for Muggle sports? Puzzled, Harry asked, "Can I help you?"

"You and I," said the boy solemnly, "are both prodigies."

Harry stared.

The boy ventured closer, adjusting his cap. "I'm Echizen Ryoma." He pointed at Harry, continuing, "You got recruited by your team because you were too good to leave behind – they twisted the rules for you. I'm the same." Echizen smirked. "Seigaku says that freshman can't play, but I'm the exception."

What was Echizen talking about? Running a hand through his hair, Harry repeated feebly, "Can I help you…?"

"Che." Echizen snorted. "Harry… you still have much more to work on."

Now Harry was annoyed. Of course he still had 'much more to work on' – he'd only learnt the rules that afternoon! "Right, thanks for that," he grumbled, "I'm going back to the castle –"

Echizen tilted his head. "Wanna teach me some Quidditch?"


A small sigh. Echizen looked up at a crow cawing overhead and murmured something that sounded suspiciously like "Baka", though Harry had no idea what this meant. Was it some incantation he didn't know? Making a mental note to ask Ron the meaning of the word the minute he got back to the Gryffindor common room, Harry asked the boy, for what he promised to himself would be the last time, another question: "Why are you dressed like that?"

"This?" Echizen looked down, then back at Harry. "This is what I wear for tennis. Come to think of it… how are you supposed to fly in robes? Looks complicated."

"It isn't," said Harry shortly. "Well, I'll be off now…"

Echizen smiled. It was a very slight smile, and Harry had a suspicion it appeared quite rarely. "Just remember what I said. You and I are prodigies. We have to work hard for their sake."

Harry nodded once. Incredible. He'd been part of the Quidditch team for less than a week, and already, random people were given him pep talks.

Ryoma woke with a start, ears buzzing with a shrieking reality TV show. Karupin mewed at his side. The triangle of sunlight was gone – it was evening, and the sliding world had invited the stars to warm the other side of the globe.


He was becoming as weird as the old man.

Even while dreaming, Ryoma is terrible at explaining things. Harry and Ryoma are both sports prodigies, so... XD