And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street
I do not own anything copyrighted by others, including Little Golden Books, Inuyasha, Yu Yu Hakusho, Full Metal Alchemist, Naruto, Avengers, Harry Potter or anyone else I have missed. This is comedy and snark. Do not take seriously. I needed a break from serious writing and letting fanfic style Kagome loose in Hogwarts fit the bill perfectly.
Kagome was dismayed. Only a few days had passed since she came back home for good, Shikon no Tama hanging about her neck, whole and purified, but there was to be no peace for her. There was currently a war between numerous factions wanting her to take a prominent position in their clans.
Hojo had come first, offering marriage to his eldest- the clueless boy that had chased after her all through middle school. Representatives of the wolf clan came next, claiming ancient family bonds to Ginta and Hakkaku's sister. Shippou had quite firmly told the men that his father had bound her to his family when his spirit fire engulfed them both.
Sesshoumaru had come by as well, claiming her as the next to last member of his brother's pack. A tough called Yusuke came with a summons to meet Koenma and a matchmaker... at least he was embarrassed by the situation and explained that he had no choice. A young blond man with a prosthetic leg and arm was there, too. Unfortunately no one could understand him through his thick German accent, although he did capture a spikey haired ninja peeking in her windows.
However, when stormclouds brewed up suddenly and the gods of lightning and chaos (otherwise known as Thor and Loki) were spotted outside, Grandfather had enough. In front of a disbelieving Kagome he whipped out a piece of glass and contacted a strange-looking man with hair and beard as long as a youkai would wear. In short order, the wizard (and why should she be surprised at more myths coming to life?) had appeared with a crack, listened to Grandfather's strange request to hide her away until he'd put all these claims to flight, and agreed!
So now she was on a crazy bus that kept jolting and jostling her as it jumped from one place to the next, keeping an eye on her backpack lest it be lost during the horrid pops between locations. Finally, with one last grinding squeal, they arrived in a little village and her benefactor floated her poor backpack out the door. The wizard began walking down a winding road towards a barrier, and she hurried to catch up.
"Ah, Miss Higurashi. I believe I have been remiss, I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I do hope you'll enjoy your stay with us while your Grandfather sorts out your... em, suitors, shall we call them?"
He stopped, turning to her and thinking a moment. "I believe you might be more comfortable if you spoke the language here... would you like a language charm? For the next two weeks you'll learn any language that is spoken in your presence. I myself know over nine hundred languages, thanks to it."
Eyes wide, she nodded. He waved his wand, a shower of golden sparks exploding over her. "There, Miss Higurashi. How is that?"
There was a strange rushing sensation in her head, and she suddenly had a complete mastery of the Queen's English, wizard edition. "Thank you, Headmaster. I appreciate your help."
They traveled through the barrier and up to an enormous castle. She followed him up to his office, ignoring all the gossiping students. His office held wonder upon wonder, but she just looked. Her travels in the past had done a very good job of training her to keep her curiosity to herself. He offered her a seat just as a knock came at his door.
"Excuse me for interrupting you Albus, but you are needed in the Charms hall," a strict looking witch said. "Someone charmed every suit of armor there to capture anyone who used magic. Professor Flitwick has been stuffed inside one and it will not give him up."
"Excuse me for a moment, Miss Higurashi. Things like this tend to come up often when you mix children and magic. Now, Minerva, what did Finite-" the door closed leaving her to her own devices.
She looked around, keeping her hands in her lap and off the desk covered in neat spinning, whirling, puffing devices. What a day this has been! On the table next to her was an old ragged hat that screamed sentient to her senses, so she thought she'd be polite. "Hello, Mr. Hat. I'm Kagome Higurashi."
It bent, like it was looking at her, and then the rip close to the brim opened. "Hello, Miss. I'm the Sorting Hat. But I've never sorted you, how did you know...?"
She smiled. "I sensed your soul. I'm Japanese, we have a long history of commonplace items being invested with magic and developing a soul of their own. As long as they don't cause mayhem, its considered an honor if they choose to stay with you."
"How interesting. I say, do you like poetry? I've been trying to find a decent rhyme for Slytherin but everything sounds so trite."
Albus Dumbledore had seen many things in his long years, but never had he expected to find his old friend's muggle granddaughter laughing and carrying on with the Sorting Hat. If he could believe his ears, they were, in fact, having a poetry contest. He quietly slipped into his chair, applauding when Kagome was declared the winner.
"Thank you, but I have been taking part in poetry contests for quite a while. I traveled with a noble youkai for close to a year, and had to learn at least the basics of the noble arts so I didn't shame him."
"So you are knowledgeable of the magic world, though not a magic user yourself?" Dumbledore asked, curious about such a unique girl.
She looked at him oddly. "Not a magic user? I don't use dark magic, like what is taught here." She lifted a hand that suddenly blazed with light. "I am a miko. I am gifted in the magic of the gods."
Dumbledore sat back, thrilled to be surprised by something new.
Hogwarts had never been turned on its head in all its centuries as much as it was now. Kagome sat in on classes as she wanted to, learning and giving her own opinions occasionally... sometimes quite loudly too.
Such had been the one and only time she sat in on Transfiguration. Seeing a hare being turned into a hairpiece was horrifying enough, but to hear it's soul scream! She had blasted out a piece of instinctual magic that let everyone hear what she heard and Professor McGonagall hadn't been the same since.
Ghosts came to her occasionally, asking to be helped over which she did with full solemnity. Peeves was quite terrified of her and stayed well away.
She found she enjoyed the DADA class, and had long conversations with Professor Lupin, eventually giving him the number for a local youkai wolf pack. She had great faith that the Prince in charge (erroneously called an Alpha by humans) would help temper the werewolf side. She already knew he'd feed up the lanky professor and get him into better financial straits. A Prince took care of his people, after all.
Professor Snape was another she spoke with at length, but more as a counselor. He was so twisted up inside, she wished these foolish wizards would at least learn psychology from muggles if they refused to tell them of their existence. She offered to purify the mark off his arm, but he insisted on keeping it. If only she could get him to understand his desire to help Dumbledore was not just for a love long dead, but for his beloved way of life.
As for the idiotic You-Know-Who business, she almost fell over when she realized the adults were pinning all hope on a just turned thirteen Harry Potter. She tracked the boy down after that and cornered him and his friends.
"Harry, you do know that in a fight against an adult, you'll lose. He's stuck a piece of his soul inside you, even if you managed to kill him, he'd take over your body eventually. I've seen it done before."
"What!?" came the Greek chorus.
She sighed. "Listen, I had a dangerous quest, just like you. However, no one expected me to do it alone. I had a group of friends all older than me and trained in the fighting arts. Now, do you want to go at this the blind, get lots of people killed way, or do you want to do it the smart but slightly underhanded way?"
Hermione spoke up when the boys didn't. "Just what is the slightly underhanded way?"
"A soul wants to be whole. It isn't natural for it to be divided. So I can call any other pieces of his soul he's cast off to us, using the bit in Harry. After that, I can purify the evil from it and send it back to the wheel of reincarnation to start over. Then this Voldemort can be taken care of like any other person, and Harry will no longer be bound to that fate."
"Oh, so you're not talking about dirty fighting," Ron said.
She rolled her eyes.
"And I can shed this Boy-Who-Lived nonsense?" Harry looked a bit nervous.
"I can purify that curse scar into oblivion," she promised. "Let's just do it where adults won't stumble onto us. They're fanatical about some prophecy... I don't believe in letting fate lead you around by your nose."
It really was that easy. Had a holy person been called to take care of the matter in the first place, it would have been even easier. And afterwards, when she and Harry were alone, she gave him Sesshoumaru's number.
"I wouldn't trust anyone here to take this rogue wizard out. Call this guy, he's a professional assassin. Tell him you don't care how, you just want Voldemort absolutely, completely dead so everyone will quit looking to you to kill him. I'm sure he'll be a bit expensive, but he likes kids and won't be happy everyone is stuck on you as their savior."
She could tell he was unsure about it. "Or I could call him. I just figured if you did it, whatever the prophecy said would be fulfilled since an assassin is an extension of you."
Sesshoumaru told her later it had been the most satisfying hunt he'd had in a century. Snake hanyou was apparently delicious with a side of python familiar. Harry got a huge discount for the fine dining provided.
A week after she arrived at Hogwarts, her Grandfather called her home again. Everyone was gone, the shrine peaceful once more. And she didn't come home alone... the Sorting Hat had taken a shine to her and, with a promise to be back every year to sort students, had come to live with her. Poetry contests became an everyday occurrence in the Higurashi family.
She took advantage of the last days of the language charm by trolling the internet for soundbites of different languages, eventually learning seven hundred and twenty-eight languages and dialects. Every embassy in Japan had her number on hand for emergency translation services.
The shrine prospered in the years after she took it over, and true to Grandfather's word to her former suitors, it welcomed everyone. Kagome became known as the Miko of the Peoples... caring for muggle, magic user, youkai, and spirits alike.
And she and the Sorting Hat lived happily ever after.
Comedy is good for breaking writer's block. Back to serious works!