esama has given me permission to continue this (Subject of Change). Enjoy. Auryn means Gold in Celtic, I thought it would be appropriate for both Naruto and Harry.
It was fiery. And red. And smelled like Sulphur.
He should have been more surprised.
Really, he had been hoping for something a little less of the... 'you screwed up big and now you're going to suffer for it' variety of hellfire and brimstone. He didn't know what he was expecting, had been expecting, but he had been hoping for something like... oh he didn't know, an endless field of flowers surrounded by white, his friends and family, the dearly departed hugging and greeting him, scolding him for being stupid and showing up entirely too early, his mother complaining about no grandchildren or wife and how her baby boy wasn't even a man yet, Sirius bonking him on the head, Remus asking after Teddy and his Dad quickly dragging him off to go and try to prank Snape who would've gotten over his animosity and become friends with the Marauders – yeah right, it would have to be a cold day in hell first, maybe just Lily though. But Harry could live with that. Well, maybe not live. But he could deal with it, if not that then he was quite content to pass through into an oblivion of sweet darkness, a void of all thought and emotion where nothing could touch him or affect him because he simply ceased to exist.
But no. No, he got fire and brimstone.
He probably should have given death and the afterlife a little more thought before he agreed to die at the end of Voldemort's wand. And whoever said that Avada Kedavra was painless was going to get a kick in the balls, it was fucking cold and it felt like his brain had just been yanked out of his scar with a red hot poker – dragging his spine along with it and every nerve ending in his body like a wet ,red, fishing net from the ocean. Hm, now there was a disgusting mental image.
Was this because he didn't stop Voldemort and was being punished for being an under-trained seventeen year old boy?
He sighed and shifted, thinking about that was just – hang on... was this... fur? The wizard gripped the oddly hot to the touch red and pulled, grunting a little in surprise and releasing it immediately when the ground moved and snarled unhappily. He tumbled down into what felt like water and spluttered, sodden hair and robes obscuring his face as he wrestled himself upright in the cold tepid dark water. Well that answered one question.
Yes, yes it was fur.
And yes, he swallowed nervously as he finally clawed his hair out of his eyes as a pair of monstrously huge blood red eyes swivelled down and locked onto him, the owner of said fur was not happy about him pulling it.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE, HUMAN?" the world around him boomed, he could feel that voice vibrating in his chest and immediately began to feel unwell as what was unmistakably a massive fox's head lowered to get a better look at him, all gleaming ivory teeth, entirely unsubtle menace and Snape-worthy sneers, kind of impressive how a canine face could convey so much contempt.
Of course there was a giant fox in his afterlife. All he needed to do now was sprout fucking rabbit ears and this fucked up metaphor would be perfect.
"ANSWER ME, MAGGOT!" the beast roared, lashing out with a set of claws the size of a landrover – each – and a paw the size of his unfortunate childhood home.
Harry squawked as he reappeared, several metres out of range and staggering in the ankle deep water, a little disorientated from the unexpectedness of his Apparation, an Apparation he had not consciously done. Those claws were moving far too fast for him to do much more than realise that he was about to die. Again. The distance did, however, give him a better look at the creature attacking him.
"A giant fox with a buttload of tails? What is this, a Sonic game?" he spluttered and jerked, Apparating out again as one of those tails shot forward like a javelin attempting to skewer him.
It seemed as though dying had uploaded some form of instinctive Apparation in the face of lethal attacks. That or his magic was just fed up of his inability to take care of himself and had decided to take over and do it itself. Useful, but he still kind of wished that it didn't feel like Apparation, he had yet to get over the nausea that repeated popping in and out caused.
"Will you knock it off and let me answer or are you going to keep swiping at me like a cat having a seizure?" the Wizard snapped as he popped out of the way of another attack, "Bloody hell, if this is what I have to deal with I can understand why Snake Face wants immortality. I almost feel sorry for what he's going to have to handle," he muttered under his breath as the Fox paused at his words, as if stunned over being compared to an involuntarily spasming feline.
Harry had, however, severely underestimated the auditory prowess of a pair of large canine ears the size of an electrical-pylon, "YOU THINK YOU'RE DEAD?" it questioned, fiery fur still crackling with agitation even as it prowled around in the water, just out of swiping reach, seeming to calm down – if one could call the caustic glare of 'I'm going to start mauling you in a minute and I don't know when I'm going to stop' anything of the sort.
"Well, I just died so that would be the most logical conclusion, soooo, yeah," he pointed out to the beast with a small frown, so this... wasn't some kind of twisted metaphorical hither to unknown level of Hell? A kind of anxiousness began to gnaw at the pit of his stomach, if this wasn't Hell... where was he and what was going to happen to him?
The fox stared at him for a moment before sitting down and snorting, an odd chuffing snarled growl coming from his throat, it took him a split second to recognise it as a more... ear-achingly loud version of when Fang laughed. He was getting laughed at by a massive ass blood-red fox because he was dead, that was just... he shook his head and brushed the matter off, if he gave it anymore thought he would probably start laughing as well or break out into hysterical sobs.
"YOU WOULD BE BETTER OFF IN HELL, WORM, THAN THIS BLIGHTED SEWER," it told him with a bare-fanged grin, tails flicking almost excitedly.
"Fan-bloody-tastic," Harry muttered under his breath, again underestimating the Fox's hearing range as it broke into those chuffing growls again, "Then where the hell are we if it isn't Hell?" he demanded, cutting the beast off.
"A PRISON," he growled, good mood evidentially soured, "AND IF YOU HAVE NOT BROKEN IN THEN IT MUST BE YOURS AS WELL." The grin was positively frightful in that split second before he lunged forward, powerful hind legs launching his now open maw towards the young Wizard who had a single breath to realise that no, the lights hadn't gone out and yes, he was about to get eaten when those teeth snapped down and he popped out, a hair's breadth from getting another scar on his forehead.
"Would you stop that! I'm trying to think and you're being really annoying!" he barked as he staggered into the water again, his vision spinning slightly as vertigo made his stomach roll. He was really going to have to get over that Apparation-Vertigo problem, it was exceptionally annoying and really upsetting, he could, after all, pull up from a 300m/h dive on a broomstick without even getting light headed. He wasn't supposed to get vertigo!
"SPEND SIXTY FIVE YEARS IN ONE OF THESE THINGS, YOU'LL LEARN TO ENJOY A LITTLE DISTRACTION. NOW HOLD STILL!" the beast barked, pouncing forward again with house sized paws ready to crush him into paste, the Fox sounded almost gleeful, if not childishly excited, that he now had a playmate. If only he could understand the words 'Time Out' and give Harry several minutes in which to throw up, take his sodden robe off and wrap his brain around the fact he was stuck in some kind of prison that Voldemort had most likely created and sealed him inside just to make sure that if he did survive the Killing Curse again, he wasn't coming back out. Bastard.
And so their demented game of Tag continued.
The Fox having an utter wail of a time as it gambolled around the so called Prison – it was quite spacious given their activities – in pursuit of the young Wizard who soldiered on through his nausea and gradually became more and more capable of regaining his bearings upon immediate popping in, enough so that he was capable of actually running one or two paces before being forced to Disapparate again. But he was slowing, apparently being dead didn't mean that you had an unlimited store of energy, you evidentially still needed to sleep, and given how little sleep Harry had gotten before his imprisonment he was pretty much running on empty.
Instead of being put out by his increasing fatigue, the Fox just got more excited, "THAT'S IT, LET ME SINK MY TEETH INTO YOU! ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE I ENJOYED THE CRUNCH OF BONE BETWEEN MY FANGS!"
"You'll be waiting a long while more," Harry bit out, Apparating out of the Fox's jaws by a hair's breadth, again, only to throw himself to the side and Apparate several hundred feet to the side when one of those javelin tails went for him.
The world lurched and - "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, BASTARD FOX? SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!" a new voice resounded piercingly around them, not the Fox's rib-crackingly powerful voice but an honest to Merlin human voice that seeped out from the walls and sent ripples of light across the tepid black water still sloshing around their ankles. Well, Harry's ankles, this wasn't even really enough to wet the Fox's claws given how shallow it was in comparison.
He yelped and staggered backwards as, with a great metallic SWISH-CLANG and splash of water that sent a wave of black liquid over his head and seeping right down through his clothes (his trainers were already a lost cause), a large wall of ornate bars crashed down in front of him, nearly taking his nose off if he were completely honest. The Fox huffed unhappily, the lights suddenly going out completely before distant torches lit up revealing the inside of what was actually quite unmistakably some kind of sewer, a narrow sewer with a high ceiling and a chamber only narrow enough for the Fox's head to fit comfortably. Wow, the bastard must be quite cramped back there, what with the nine-tails.
Harry glanced over his shoulder to where he was quite certain the Fox just muttered 'Recoodough' as if it were a dirty word, "ITS OUR IDIOT OF A JAILER," he complained bitterly, taking the Wizard by surprise. He thought this was one of Voldemort's little Enchanted Prisons, the only Jailers he would allow in there were Dementors or himself, did this mean he wasn't in some kind of funky Prison/confinement thing the Snake Faced Bastard made to get him out of the way?
Levering himself up, Harry had perhaps a few seconds to realise they weren't as alone as they had been a moment ago, without sound, light or fanfare, suddenly a blond Firstie was stood in front of them with a frightful scowl wearing what was quite possibly the cutest sleeping hat the Gryffindor had ever had the misfortune of seeing. He blinked. The blond blinked right back. The Fox stared at them lazily, expectantly and suddenly the Firstie jumped back half a step pointing a finger dramatically at the fox, his face scowling so hard that his eyes were squinted shut to the point of blindness as he bellowed with a surprising lung capacity and complete lack of intimidation for the juggernaut of fiery red death.
"What the hell, Kyuubi?" the preteen screeched, making both giant fox and wizard wince painfully at the pitch, "What is that, why is it here?" he continued, practically hopping up and down with rage.
Harry frowned slightly, 'that'? 'It'? How rude. He scowled in irritation and decided that this had been one of the most aggravating days he had experienced for a bloody long time and set about wringing the excess water from his robes, ugh, he felt disgusting, and cold, and wet and all together just very miserable as he listened to the boy and the fox hash it out and come to the conclusion that neither of them were responsible for the Wizard's presence within the Prison.
"Yeah, hi, the name's Harry. Not 'that'," he stated pointedly at the blond kid who merely sneered warily at him, one would have thought preteens would have a little more respect for people clearly older than they were but considering how this midget was apparently the Jailer of Chuckles over there, he figured he was probably a lot more dangerous than he looked.
"How the hell did you get in here?" the boy snapped, glaring at him as if it were his fault the Polar Bears were dying out. Harry was beginning to dislike the kid but merely chalked that up to a waning amount of patience that the Fox had quite thoroughly burned his way through, the headache from forced Apparation over what felt like two hours time and the fact he was cold and wet and not where he expected to be. In short, Harry James Potter was getting cranky.
"I died," the Gryffindor retorted, just as irritably as the preteen. "Boom, shot to the chest, supposed to be dead, wake up in there with Chuckles," The Fox growled, completely unappreciative of his new nickname but fuck him, he was the one having such a grand fucking time chasing his bloody tail everywhere, "And then you come along after several hours of 'Harry Hunting'."
The blond mulled over this before paling, "Y-you're dead? You're a Ghost!" he squawked, hastily back-peddling as if Harry were a Dementor himself and the green eyed male found his patience coming to the end of its tether as he marched out between the bars fully intending on wringing the midget's neck when he spluttered and pointed with eyes bugging out of his skull, "You can't do that! Kyuubi!" he wailed looking at the Fox in horror, "He can't do that!"
"DON'T LOOK AT ME RUNT, NOT MY FAULT HE CAN GET OUT," the Fox told him in an envious growl, eyes fixed on the Wizard who had lost his homicidal desires in the face of annoyed exasperation.
"You could walk a Horse through the gaps in those Bars, kid," he pointed out flatly, idly wondering if the child had brain damage, then again, maybe he did, there was still the possibility that this was a Voldemort Issued Confinement Prison place. Though... "Where the hell am I?" he asked, breaking through the preteen's incoherent spluttering.
"Impenetrable!" he squawked, flailing his arms like a windmill.
"If you say so," Harry muttered disbelievingly, before folding his arms and waiting for an answer.
Eventually the blond stopped spazzing out when he realised it wasn't getting him any where, "You're in my Seal. Right here," he explained, shifting the blue dressing gown thing he was wearing to show his bellybutton and the strange swirling tattoo on it. Harry frowned, eyeing it, was it like his Horcrux? Capable of holding Souls in there? A small smile twitched on his mouth, did that make Blondie some kind of freaky Dementor Baby if he was storing Souls in his stomach?
"So what... this is the inside of your stomach? All this?" he asked, gesturing around him to the bars, the big ass Fox who was bound to give the kid indigestion if that were really the case.
The boy scratched the back of his head thoughtfully, "Well, that's where the Seal is but Ero-Sennin said that this place is more of a met-meta-mental err... its a place my mind made," he explained, deciding to settle on the simplest of explanations he could understand. Harry frowned slightly, so this place was just a mental representation of the Inside of the Seal.
"Well, if your mind made it, that means you can push me out," he explained making the blond kid blink big blue eyes up at him, wow, if the kid weren't so annoying he would be lethal with those. "I don't belong here so it should be easy. Just... push me with your mind as hard as you can."
"You're not gunna haunt me, are you?" the boy asked suspiciously, squinting at him yet again, with those whisker marks he looked remarkably cat-like, Harry glanced over his shoulder at Chuckles, or rather Fox-like on second thought.
The Gryffindor shook his head, "Nah, places to go, people to see. I have family waiting for me on the otherside," he explained with a bittersweet smile, absently hoping that this time he would be able to move on, he wanted to rest already, he was tired and his head ached and he wanted to know if his mum made better hot chocolate than Mrs Weasley.
Understanding blew the boy's face wide open and he nodded, reaching a hand out with a small smile, "Maybe I'll see you over there when I'm an old fart, I'll tell you about all my adventures and what I did when I was Hokage!" the blond exclaimed excitedly and despite his annoyance and headache and wet clothes, Harry couldn't help but snort in wry amusement.
"Sure, why not, by the time you're old and grey I'll have gotten bored listening to my Dad and Sirius play pranks long ago," he admitted, kind of half promising to wait for the kid on the otherside, what the hell, why not, he was helping him out of a rough patch so it was only polite to say hello and show him the ropes when he arrived, or at least just say hello because the kid's family and friends would probably want to do that part themselves.
"AND IT WAS JUST GETTING FUN," the Fox whined as Harry took the outstretched hand, stepping into the dim golden light the blond kid was pulling him towards.
It was like walking into a hot shower after Quidditch Practice in the middle of a rainstorm, so deliciously hot your muscles immediately relaxed as hot water burned the filth and the cold and the tiredness from your flesh and the water ceased to be so scorchingly hot and just wondrously warm and numbing. He inhaled deeply, idly wondering why he could smell noodle soup and orange scented shampoo, he was warm and he smiled as he wriggled around, languishing in the soft that rubbed deliciously against his skin, the pillow pressed into his chest.
Wait, wasn't he supposed to be dead?
Tiredly, he cracked his eyes open, it was a battle though, they didn't want to stay open and the room dipped and spun as his body rebelled against his activities. It was dark, but not that ominous, dank darkness of 'Very – Bad – Things', it was dark because it was night and the curtains were shut. The room was filled with the soft warm muzzy darkness of night-time and the soft breathing of its occupants, correction, snoring of an occupant and the soft snuffling breathing of the other. Harry knew he was fighting a losing battle and allowed his eyes to close, idly wondering why his pillow was so warm.
When next he woke, the room was still dark but he could hear a dawn chorus outside, birds were annoying like that, they sometimes liked to start a racket up several hours before the sun peaked on the horizon because they were sadists. This time, Harry was able to open his eyes, even if his vision was still a little sleep blurred as he looked around the room, it was rather run down, visible piping that looked as though it had been patched by a blind monkey using a soldering iron, the random bandage wrapped around them wasn't very comforting either, random scratch marks and places of broken, cracked or flaking paint and plaster coupled with the unvarnished floorboards and the grubby and slightly abused light-switch beside the door totalled up to one, or two, things in Harry's mind.
He was in a really cheap hotel room and he was probably in a bad part of whatever town he was in.
Snuffles made a groaning sound from somewhere on Harry's right and his pillow moved, squeezing tightly around his strangely awkward chest, what was that? He could feel something squishy yet painful getting pressed into his ribs as his pillow attempted to burrow its way into him, he wriggled unhappily and sat up, groaning as his body protested that movement – insistently.
There was a moment of silence before someone squeaked and he looked down.
It was the kid and... oh... oh god...
Harry's eyes widened even as the kid's own turned into the size of dinner plates, his face rapidly flushing scarlet as he realised precisely where and what his hands and face were doing, Harry however wasn't paying a damn bit of attention to that, he was more concerned with...
The Boy Who Lived couldn't utter anything more than a sharp whimper of protest as he stared down at the soft mounds of flesh hanging, irrefutably, as if they had some kind of divine right to be there, from his chest. The words 'Not Possible' kept running through his head again and again as the blond kid threw himself away from the... them and backpeddled across the floor on his butt as a pair of slender, tiny, bird-line little hands inched up and cupped them, testing the weight and size, trying to disprove their existence.
'Not Possible, Not Possible, Not Possible, Not Possible, Not Possible, Not Possible, Not Possible, oh fuck it, this is ME here!' he thought, giving up as those little hands felt strangely warm on them. He swallowed and removed his hands as though burned and looked at the kid who was staring at him with the same kind of frozen look of horror on his face that Harry was quite sure he was wearing as well.
The Gryffindor swallowed and pointed at his chest, "Ki-kid... what the hell happened when you dragged me out of your mind?" he asked, stumbling slightly over his own voice, high, light and girlish, the kind that put you in mind of innocence and kittens and pink and puppies and that kind of junk. "Cause, these... yeah, not here before," he managed to get out before his throat closed up tighter than Dumbledore's mouth on important information.
"I – I – y-you're the – the Ghost?" the blond kid questioned, horrified and terrified at the same time.
"The name is Harry. What the hell happened?" he demanded, voice very nearly breaking at the end of his question, the kid must have caught it though because a split second later he was yanking his shirt off and throwing it over, squeezing his eyes shut, face tomato red. Realising just what the kid was doing, Harry shrugged into the navy blue dressing gown, unable to pull it shut entirely as it was a child's size and he was... they were rather big.
"I – I don't know," the boy admitted in a frightened squeak, "It-it might be my fault, I don't know how though! C-could you Dispel maybe? Do you know any Ninjutsu?" he asked making Harry look at him sharply, Dispel? Ninjutsu? Other words for Magic? They sounded vaguely Japanese-ish. The boy was becoming more and more flustered, "Its a H-henge! I used to play pranks as her, ah-hehe, it was totally awesome but not everyone thought that way especially Closet Pervert and the other Jounin an' – an' all you have ta do is use Kai and – "
Harry glared at him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him roughly, "Use words. Short Sentences. Explain. Fix. This," he hissed menacingly, not noticing or caring as the boy paled several shades.
"B-b-but – bu-but," the boy whimpered, blue eyes wide and frightened, it was like kicking a kitten but by this point Harry was both beyond caring or noticing.
It was only when the steady snoring that filled the air cut off with a grunting snort and a deep baritone groan, causing them both to look over at the source and hiss in discomfort as a lamp flicked on. There was a pause and the sound of a sniff and rustling fabrics as Harry tried to get over the sunspots and stop squinting in the face of the obnoxiously bright lamp.
"Nah-Naaahruto," the gruff baritone began, yawning half way through the word, a name? The kid's? "Thought we talk'd 'bout masturbation in shared rooms?" the voice asked, thoughtfully and slowly, heavy with sleep and Harry couldn't stop his nose from wrinkling as he caught the subtle whiff of alcohol – about as subtle as a hammer in this case, how much had this guy drunk? – and something that was similar to the smell of those strange cigarettes Dudley and his gang were known for smoking under the climbing frames on Magnolia Crescent.
"N-not what it looks like!" the boy squawked, as Harry managed to crack his eyes open some without his eyes screeching in pain from the sudden influx of light. "An' I was the one lecturin' you! Ero-sennin!" the boy accused, loudly, Harry growled warningly at him, he did not appreciate having his ears blown out along with his eyes scolded.
"S'not like usin' Clones an' Henge ain't creative but really 'Ruto, dun wanna know," the voice continued and Harry was finally able to get a look at it. He scowled at the man, snow white hair, wild and spiky and falling well down below his waist in what was, by every definition, a mane, dark eyes and a large nose, two strange scarlet streaks down each of his cheeks and a wart on the side of his nose. He was wearing the same blue dressing gown as the one the kid – Naruto? – gave him and he was built like a brick shithouse, those were some fucking abs he could see in the gap of his robes. He was quite certain you could have probably either grated cheese on those, or done your washing by hand. He then blinked slowly and smirked at the Wizard, "You could lend her to me though," he suggested rakishly.
"Shut up!" Naruto squawked, flailing and nearly hitting Harry who by this point had finished being patient, thank you very much, he dropped the boy and turned to glare at the white haired man.
"You, shut up," he growled, pointing a finger at the man who blinked a little in startlement, going cross eyed as he stared at Harry's fingertip – the Wizard really tried to ignore how nice his nails were compared to how Hermione used to have hers – before he turned to the boy and glared at him, "Explain. Now."
The boy wrung his hands, "I told you, I don't know how it happened. After I kicked you out of the Seal, everything went yellow for a minute and then I was waking up and you were..." He gestured, face bright red.
Harry growled, and the man with the white hair frowned, "Naruto, you kicked her out of the Seal?" he asked seriously, hand inching towards a black leather thing with what looked like a hoop-handled knife in there.
Naruto nodded, "Yeah, his name's Harii, he got stuck in Kyuubi's Seal when he died so I kicked him out an'..." The boy flushed again, glancing at the still unimpressed Harry from the corner of his eye, well, at least he wasn't getting referred to as 'It' or 'That' anymore.
The white haired man looked sharply at the Gryffindor who folded his arms and glared right back, colouring the moment he noticed the man's look becoming a little more glazed as his eyes slid down. He shifted his arms upwards until they were hiding them from sight, the last thing he wanted now was to get ogled by some guy who looked old enough to be his Grandfather! He didn't want to get ogled at full stop!
"Ero-Sennin!" the blond boy snarled, "Get your brain outta the gutter!" he commanded, waving a hand at Harry, "Serious stuff here! A dead guy ended up in Kyuubi's cage and now he's in my Oiroke no Jutsu!"
Sexy Technique? Oh good grief.
"A dead guy, you say?" the Sage echoed, rubbing his chin and eyeing Harry speculatively before scooting forward and holding a hand out, "May I?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. For a moment, Harry considered telling him to bugger off before remembering his situation and nodding with a rather defeated sigh, the man offered him a small reassuring smile as he reached out and touched his face. Broad calloused palms cupping his cheek, long rough fingers gently exploring his skull structure before gently pulling down one of his eyelids to check them, trailing down to check the glands on his throat, feel for a pulse, pressing firmly on his shoulders for a moment before moving down further and squeezing...
Harry bristled and a split second later Jiraiya's head was thrown to the side, a bright red hand print practically glowing on his cheek as Harry stared down at his hand in horrified fascination – and perhaps a little gratitude – as the flesh began to sting and burn with the force of the strike. Evidentially... instinctive Apparation wasn't the only thing he had gained in death, or was this a 'Female Reflex' thing? He'd seen Ginny do some down right evil things to guys who got grabby with her, it was like watching an angry snake lash out, quite often she was so quick with her retaliation her attackers never got to cop a good enough feel to brag about before they ended up in the Hospital Wing. And Pomfrey was utterly unsympathetic and more likely to contact their Head of House for Sexual Harassment than fuss over them – it may have had something to do with the fact that Harry was her favourite patient and the whole world and his wife expected him and Ginny to settle down and have a truck of ginger babies in a little cottage with a white picket fence.
The white haired man chuckled as he idly rubbed his cheek, "Guess I had that one coming," he admitted, looking surprisingly suave for someone who just got smacked (How?). "Though, I gotta ask, were you always a woman? 'Cause you've got the righteous fury of one," he teased lightly, making the Gryffindor flush unhappily.
"Quite certain," he assured the man stiffly.
"Pervert," Naruto growled unhappily, squint-glowering at the old man.
He chuckled and roughly ruffled the younger boy's hair, ignoring his squawk of protest, "Well, you're not a Clone of Naruto's and you're not some manifestation of Kyuubi, for one your Chakra is different to both of them and you have a pulse, not even Clones have that. Your Chakra circulatory system is a mirror to Naruto's as well, if you were a Clone it would be identical," the man continued on wisely, holding a finger up as he lectured them, "Your skin is warm and well, Clones don't have bones so there was no way I should have been able to feel all them delicate little constructs in those cute little ears of yours." Harry refrained from growling at him but only just and the bastard knew it judging by the way he flashed him that cheeky smirk.
"You mean, he won't Release if someone hits him with a Kunai?" Naruto asked, turning his squint onto the Gryffindor, looking for all the world like he was going to try it out.
Harry narrowed his eyes on the boy, he didn't know what a Kunai was but it sounded painful, "Try it and I'll Transfigure you into a Toad," he warned, making the boy wince and smile a little sheepishly at being caught in the act.
The man however 'hmmm'ed, perking up when Harry mentioned the word 'Transfigure' only to frown a little in thought, rubbing his chin in a parody of a 'wise man' despite having no facial hair, "Tell me, Harii-chan," he said, catching the Gryffindor's attention, "What were you?"
He frowned in confusion, "What was I? Uh, can you be a little more specific?" he asked, completely flummoxed by the question.
He waved a hand, "Y'know, what did you do for a living, any special abilities and the like, one of my teachers could Transfigure but not much else and I was just wondering how much you knew anything about it since you mentioned it earlier," he lied smoothly, the busty bombshell frowned daintily as she thought it over, it was almost physically painful to look at such a beautiful young woman and see his student, Minato, looking out from her face, it made it almost creepy to hit on her. Not that it being creepy would really stop him, she was an absolutely smoking hot! Major points to Naruto for imagination and execution when he came up with that Henge.
She shrugged, "I was a Wizard," Jack pot! "But I hadn't finished my Training in all honesty, a War broke out and the school became too dangerous for me to attend, so I started helping out with the War effort. In the end, I took a One-Hit-Kill attack to the chest and bam, there I was in a cage with Chuckles." It took a great deal of will power not to laugh at the nickname the blonde girl had bestowed upon the fearsome Kyuubi no Kitsune, Naruto called it the Bastard Fox, his mother just called it a Pain in the Ass or when she was feeling particularly vindictive 'Fuzzy'. But Chuckles was definitely his favourite.
"Have to admit, I never knew humans could cross the breach over here. The Toads at Myouboku sometimes head over to learn Magic under you guys, Cats and Owls too, but I don't think a human has ever followed through onto this side," the white haired Sage admitted as he stroked his chin, yawning until his jaw clicked and he made a sound of painful objection under his breath, rubbing his now purpling cheek, "Alright, maybe we should call this a night, well, morning. We can discuss it when we're all awake and less likely to fall asleep," he decided, scratching his head and giving a glance to where Naruto was blinking owlishly, trying to stay awake now that sheer terror in the face of Ghostly-female fury wasn't powering him, and the girl was glaring with what was most definitely sleep deprivation induced irritation. He refrained from chuckling, that expression was pure Kushina in the mornings, she hated mornings.
"My brain is soup. We'll talk about this after breakfast," he continued in a grunt, amused as the girl's expression melted into one of equal exhaustion as she looked over to where Naruto was beginning to nod off where he was sitting. Jiraiya watched with half an eye as she shook him awake and pulled the covers back so he could crawl in, that was surprisingly cute, he smirked and opened up the side of his blankets, "You can share with me," he suggested with a lecherous grin and eyebrow wiggle.
Naruto coloured immediately, latching his arms around the girl's waist and twisting her until she was on his otherside and away from Jiraiya, "No way in hell Pervert Sage!" he snarled protectively while the blonde girl merely blinked in complete bafflement before shrugging, too tired to argue as she pulled the blankets up and fell asleep before Naruto had even finished snarling at his teacher.
The Toad Sannin couldn't help but chuckle as he turned the lights off, the three of them settling down to at least get an extra few hours of sleep.
After all, the sun still had yet to rise.
First chapter, hope you guys enjoyed and yes, it was different from esama's, as per our agreement. She allowed me to take her concept as long as I didn't copy her word for word or steal her text. Some of the scenes are inspired by her so are similar but for the most part I tried to keep it as separate.