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Chapter Text

Minato-sensei! Kushina-nee! Where were they? He had to find them, he had to find them, now! And Naruto. Baby-Naruto, was he already born? Had everything gone well?

Stupid, stupid, useless question. The Kyuubi somehow got free, of course it hadn’t gone well. Something must have happened. Kakashi knew it. He knew it in his heart! And yet…

Yet, he hoped to find them unharmed. This was Minato-sensei after all. Every shinobi in Konoha – he was sure – had seen the battle rage over the village. They had seen how Minato protected them from sheer destruction. And none had seen him die. Kakashi was sure of it. His sensei had not died. Neither had Kushina – she can’t have!

Don’t be naïve. You’re not a child anymore. She’s the Jinchuriki. When the Bijuu is extracted, the Jinchuriki dies.

He knew that. Kushina-nee was the Kyuubi’s Jinchuriki. The demon beast was sealed within her. And yet, Kakashi had clearly seen it rampage through the village, the nine-tailed fox. A demon made of swirling red chakra destroying everything in its wake.

Kakashi jumped from roof top to roof top. He had separated from the group of his peers where they stood hidden away from the beast under order to stay safe – as they were the young generation supposed to lead the village into the future. But how could he stay back, how could he not fight, when his sensei, his sensei’s wife and their unborn child were in danger? The only family he still had, the only remnants of a team that was dead dead dead. Dead, because of him. Because Kakashi had failed them – caused their deaths – killed them. The only one who had survived was Minato-sensei. So, there was no way Kakashi could just stay back.

His left eye was itching. Obito’s eye.

He knew where Kushina was supposed to give birth. The hidden away shelter where sealing specialists and medical ninja had prepared the safest way for her to give birth without breaking the Kyuubi’s seal. Clearly something had gone wrong. Clearly all these specialists had failed. The Kyuubi had broken free, was rampaging in the city. And then he was gone…

He was gone now. The fight was over. One second the beast stood gigantic and deadly over their village, fighting his sensei and the next it was gone. And his sensei was gone with it. What had happened?

The cold night air made his throat ache from the effort of… running? Or was that his panic that made him pant? Surely, he was not that exhausted?

Kakashi was almost there now. Just out of the village and through a small patch of woods into the clearing—

Obito’s eye was itching behind the headband that kept it hidden from sight…

He had not seen it! He had not seen it! Not with the Sharingan. And yet, Minato’s and Kushina’s dying moments were forever edged into his mind. In clear detail. The Kyuubi’s fang had ripped their backs and stomachs open, blood dripping everywhere. When Kakashi found them, the beast was already gone and his sensei and Kushina-nee lay embracing each other taking their final breath, right next to the wailing baby boy.

**

“I cannot allow that, I’m afraid.” The Hokage’s voice rang sympathetic but no less final. “He is the Yellow Flash’s child. He will have enemies. The best way to protect him would be to keep his identity safe.”

“I can keep him safe,” Kakashi replied in a steady tone, although he felt anything but steady. He had not felt steady since Minato-sensei had died. Minato and Kushina both. Leaving Naruto an orphan. “I’m ANBU.”

The third Hokage’s eyes rested on him with a sort of regretful pity that made Kakashi sick with nausea. “Exactly, you are ANBU. Your obligations lay elsewhere.”

“Then I retire,” he said quickly. “Put me back on regular duty.” He had no interest in that. ANBU was where he belonged now. He had a new team there. They called him Friend-killer and didn’t see him as much more than a young upstart child, but this was where he belonged. This was where he fit in. He brought nothing but death, so where else but in the darkest part of the shinobi world would he belong in? The mundane Jonin duties… that meant he’d get a different team. One with real names instead of code names, with faces instead of masks. A bunch of young Chunin with wide eyes, naïve and bright with dreams. It would mean that sooner or later the Hokage would assign a Genin team to him. Children who’d look up to him for guidance… He had no interest in that, but he would accept it for the young child who – in a different universe – might have been his brother.

“Kakashi…” The Hokage shook his head. “You’re only fourteen.”

Kakashi’s hands balled into fists. “I’m old enough,” he insisted, “old enough to—” To what? To fight in a war? To kill? To be killed?

None of that qualified him to raise a child. He didn’t know the first thing about raising a child. What was he thinking? He didn’t even like children. He hadn’t gotten along with them when he was one himself, and he surely didn’t understand them any better now. Never mind who he was. He brought nothing but death to those he loved. What did he want with Naruto? He’d destroy him!

He felt suddenly selfish. This was his sensei’s kid, and Kakashi was just a step away from ruining his life. Because that was what he would do inevitably. Instead of asking to raise the child, he should ask to be as far away from him as possible.

“I understand,” he finally relented his fists opening again. His hands felt empty. He felt empty. “I… Please excuse my…” But he did not find the words.

The hokage’s eyes still were upon him with that same pity and understanding. “I’m sorry, Kakashi. When he gets older, you will get to know Naruto.”

But Kakashi shook his head. When Naruto was old enough to become a shinobi himself… Kakashi should stay far away from him – preferably he would be dead then. What should he do for twelve more years? There was nothing left. Nobody.

Obito’s eye was itching. It didn’t stop itching. It hadn’t stopped since Minato-sensei’s death. Or maybe since Rin’s?

“Take some time off, boy,” the Hokage said.

Kakashi wanted to object, but it hadn’t been a mere suggestion. The hokage’s voice hadn’t quite carried the authority for an order either. But still… Kakashi was nothing if not a dutiful shinobi. He would do as he was told. “What should I do?” he asked instead.

The old man looked back at him with a sad frown on his forehead. “Maybe you can spend some time with young Guy? I’m sure he’s already looking for you.” At Kakashi’s grimace, he continued, “or help rebuilding the village.”

The second suggestion sounded nice, Kakashi thought. He could help rebuild. Kakashi had been trained for war, for assassinations and sabotage, for quiet infiltration or espionage and the odd security guard mission. Rebuilding his home sounded like a nice change. Peaceful, now that the war had finally ended.

“Thank you, sir.” He hadn’t asked for vacation. He didn’t want it. But it was proper manners to show gratitude for it anyway.

As he left the hokage building he was absentmindedly scratching the cloth of his headband where it covered the eye.

“DYNAMIC—”

He ducked under Guy’s attack with little effort. The boy had been waiting outside the hokage building as it seemed.

“You’re always so cool, my eternal rival.” Guy’s voice was rich with conviction and a sort of challenging admiration. “Fight me!”

“Not now,” Kakashi said unimpressed. With his hands in his pockets he strolled past the boy and towards the main street of Konohagakure.

“It’s 17 to 11 currently, your lead” Guy declared quickly catching up to him. “You won the last four matches. But I’ve been training hard, and today is my—”

“Not today, Guy,” Kakashi interrupted him. He didn’t even find the energy to be annoyed at Guy’s antics.

Obito’s eye was itching.

“Come on, my rival!” Guy pleaded.

Guy put a hand on his shoulder, trying to make Kakashi look at him. He was all smiles and bushy eyebrows and that horrendous green jumpsuit. Kakashi knew he could not win this. If nothing else, that was the one aspect he could never beat Guy at – and he didn’t even know if Guy in his constant pursuit to find things he was better at than Kakashi, ever considered that his stubbornness and tenacity was just that. There was no way to appease him, other than to give in.

Shrugging his shoulders, Kakashi stopped, then looked around. “Okay. On three. Whoever arrives atop the Hokage Monument first wins.”

Guy stared at him, then his grin broadened even further, widening to fill his entire face. His eyes sparkled with excitement. “That’s a worthy challenge my eternal rival! Give the countdown.” Kakashi felt a little guilty.

Kakashi readied himself. “Three – Two – One.” He made two steps, and then he stopped. Guy was already off. Not two meters from where they ha started, Kakashi came to a complete halt only able to see the cloud of dust settle behind Guy.

He had no energy for this. He could not do this. Not now, and truth be told, he hadn’t felt any excitement or rush in these challenges ever since Rin… Occasionally he still did them for Guy, but there was nothing in them for Kakashi anymore. Before, when they were children, Kakashi had been surprised, mildly annoyed but also somewhat proud at being considered a rival to his peers. Later after his father’s death, he had only seen these challenges as an annoyance and then, after Obito’s death, he had started to make an effort. Obito’s death had left him with an intense wish to connect. And Guy made it easy to do just that. It had even been fun at times, no matter how unimpressed he liked to act.

But now…

There was a disconnect. He could not do this anymore. He could not play these games, race Guy to the Hokage mountain or fight him in a battle of brawn or wit and pretend like it mattered at all who won. No matter who arrived at the top of the mountain first, Minato-sensei, Kushina-nee, Rin and Obito, his parents they would still be dead. Naruto would stay an orphan. What was the point? And what was the point in connecting with Guy, if in the end he would end up dead like the others. This wide-eyed, bright eyed excitement, Kakashi could not stand it. He would destroy it.

Guy was his own age and yet he seemed so young. Still chasing his dreams.

Kakashi had no dreams to chase.

And Obito’s eye was still itching.

**

For just a moment he had been enticed to go see Naruto. Just once, just to make sure he was alright and taken care of. But then he caught himself. Shaking his head, Kakashi’s feet carried him through the streets of the destroyed village without him paying much attention.

He froze when he realized where they had led him. Home… He had not been back here for years. What point was there in an empty home? Still, he did not turn around. Instead, he entered the old Hatake house. His father’s house. “I’m home,” he called out to the empty rooms. There was no reply apart from the creaking of the old floorboards below his feet. A layer of dust covered everything. He could see clouds of it puff up from under his feet. Maybe that was the reason, he chose to keep his shoes on. He did not want to stay here. He didn’t even know what he was doing here.

Curiously, as if there was anything for him to find, he made his way through the rooms. The kitchen, the old living room, his own room much smaller. He pushed the doors to his father’s bedroom open, but he never stepped inside. Then he stood in front of the study. Obito’s eye was itching.

The room was empty. There in the center of it, he could see him, slumped over his own sword, blood pooling under the body. No, the room was empty. No body, no blood, clean like the last time he had seen it. Blood on the Tatami mats…No!

Obito’s eye… Kakashi clutched his hand over the covered eye. It hurt! His vision was warping, twisting, then he saw black. He was falling.

**

“He’s in Hogwarts.” He’s been saying it like a mantra for days now. He’s in Hogwarts. Peter was in Hogwarts. The rat. Harry and Peter both. The boy was in danger.

“He’s in Hogwarts.”

Sirius had to go. He had to protect his godson. The only family he had left. The only one who had not forsaken him. No…

You don’t know that. He might have. If they told him about you, he’ll hate you like the rest of them. He won’t want to have anything to do with you.

Did it matter? So what if the boy hated him? Sirius still had to protect him. Who else would be there to do that? Who else would even know about the rat hiding away in Hogwarts waiting for the chance to strike? Nobody! Sirius was the only one who knew and no matter what Harry thought of him, no matter what would happen to him, he would protect his godson.

It was what he should have done all along. And yet, Sirius hadn’t done anything for the boy. His parents, James and Lily, they had wanted Sirius to take care of their son in case something happened to them. They’d wanted him to raise Harry. And what had Sirius done? After all that James had done for him – his best friend, his brother – Sirius was the reason they were dead now. Sure, Peter had betrayed them, Peter had sold them out to Voldemort, yet it’d been Sirius who suggested to make Peter their secret keeper. And he’d felt so smart about it.

They were supposed to think it is me. They would have hunted me down, interrogated me, tortured me. And meanwhile, Peter could hide away; the Potters would be safe.

He’d felt so smart. Like he’d fooled them all. Yet, he’d been the fool. They were dead because of him. He might have just as well done the deed himself.

Maybe that was the reason why he’d so quietly accepted his fate. Maybe that was the reason he’d been fine with Azkaban for so long. It was a form of repentance. And surely, it must’ve counted for something. When Moony came… That one time, a year after his incarceration, he hadn’t even really tried to defend himself.

“I’m innocent.”

But his voice had been hollow and without conviction. What worth was it to be innocent when the guilt weighed on him, nonetheless? He was innocent of murder, innocent of treason, sure. His crime was being a fool and he had caused Lily and James’ death just as much as Peter the traitor and Voldemort the murderer. Without him—

He’d gone over that a dozen times. In Azkaban there was little to do other than suffering and lamenting the what-ifs. What was the point of it all? This endless self-pity? Rotting away in Azkaban, he hadn’t done Harry any good. Judging by the date, the boy had lived for two years with Peter in Hogwarts. Peter could have killed him anytime. Why he hadn’t done it already, Sirius didn’t know. Probably too coward. But at the first sign of his master’s comeback… Sirius was sure, at the first sign that the vile deed would bring him glory or his master’s mercy, Peter would do it. He’d kill the boy himself or betray him to Voldemort the way he had his parents.

“He’s in Hogwarts!” They both were. Hogwarts was, where he was needed.

Sirius stomach rumbled with hunger. He hadn’t eaten ever since he saw the article in the newspaper – the one that had informed him of Peter’s current hiding place, safely tucked away as the pet rat of one of the Weasley children. He hadn’t eaten so he’d fit through the bars. Already, right after he got his hands on the newspaper, he’d almost been there. Almost able to fit through, but not quite.

He should—

Before he could decide to try again, he noticed the frost creeping up the iron bars of his cell. Dementors… They were coming… They were coming.

“Sirius! How could you! Lily and James” Peter’s voice in his head.

He was stumbling through the ruins of the Potter’s home in Godric’s Hollow. They had to be safe! But he was too late. He knew he was too late, because he saw the ruins, the clear evidence of the attack, and he didn’t hear anybody fighting anymore. It was over. He was too late.

He found James – his best friend, his brother, Prongs – down just at the foot of the stairs, crumbled half over it, and then carelessly pushed to the side. His torso hung between the bars of the handrail; his legs splayed wide apart over the white tile floor. Sirius’ vision was blurring from hysteric tears as he tried to pull his best friend out of the awkward position. It was demeaning, like he’d just been thrown away like trash. James was no trash! He was the most magnificent human being Sirius had ever met. He deserved better. He deserved all the happiness in the world, he deserved for his family to be healthy and whole!

His family… The sight of his best friend had made Sirius forget almost all else. He could not help James, he knew. James was dead, and with his feeble hands and blurred vision, Sirius was even failing at freeing him off his demeaning position. Lily might still be alive – Harry… James would kick his ass, if he’d ever find out, Sirius hadn’t looked for them first. James… wouldn’t ever do anything anymore.

He found Lily in the nursery. Unlike James, she was laid out on the floor, her eyes closed already. She looked asleep. She looked peaceful. She looked as if she’d been laid to rest respectfully, not haphazardly thrown away like James. In fact, she looked fine. So much so, that Sirius didn’t think she was dead at all, despite the pallor of her skin. He checked her pulse. Checked her breathing. His hands were trembling so hard. Desperately, he pulled his wand, to check magically if she was alive, willing her to be alive.

Enervate. Enervate…

Nothing. Shaking, he looked up—

Right into a pair of green eyes, wide and alert. Lily’s eyes…

“How could you! Lily and James!” Bam! Blood and the crater and the smoldering ruins of the street, and his own laughter bubbling over the scene of the destruction.

He finally managed to transform, wet tears on his cheeks, now staining his shaggy black fur. The memories didn’t stop. But they were muted. Like he was witnessing them through a haze. He’d survived Azkaban for twelve years. He’d survive a few more hours.

**

Cold… The water was cold. He had plunged right into the raging waves. The weather and the sea weren’t on his side, but from his cell he couldn’t have known this, and now there was no way back, no second attempt. It would be this one, today, or never. He’d either succeed, or he’d drown trying to reach the shore. There was no turning around for him. This was a one-way trip.

If nothing else, the waves quickly washed the desperately paddling dog away from the horrible prison on a rough rock in the middle of the North Sea. Water beat him down, pushed him underwater, but the dog resurfaced. Sputtering and breathing in heavy gulps of air before he went under again.

He transformed, hoping his human form would give him a better chance against the forces of nature. Desperately, with what little strength he could wring out of his body he swam against the waves. The shore – he needed to get to the shore—

But he couldn’t even see it. Water was burning in his eyes, he tasted salt in his throat. With each stroke of his arms, he told himself, just one more. With hands and bare feet, he pushed water away, but there was so much water in front of him—

His muscles – whatever was left of them after years of hunger and a week of complete starvation – were cramping. His own weight, the soaked prison garbs, the lethargy in his limbs was dragging him down. He didn’t swim anymore, was hopelessly trying to keep above the surface. But there was water in his mouth, in his nose, down his throat— He swallowed it but there was more rushing in.

He saw only the black of the water around him, and he felt the cold of the sea…

Help! He thought! Help! He was drowning.

Cold…Cold… He’d been cold for twelve years… they were coming… they were coming. Instinctively, he turned into the shape of the big black dog.

Chapter Text

He woke up on soft wet soil. It must have rained the night before, but now it was warm. Sunlight played on his face drying traces of mud on his skin and clothes. Groggily, Kakashi blinked against the light. How did he end up outside? And—

Suddenly alert, he jumped up, standing upright, pulling a kunai at the ready. Woods… He was in a forest, and he was alone. Those were the only two things he registered before his strength left him again. Confused and worried at the sudden onslaught of nausea, he went down on all fours. The world was spinning around him. He needed a moment to suppress the need to vomit. What was going on? He felt as if he was suffering from mild chakra exhaustion. The nausea, the headache, the loss of balance was a telltale sign. But he didn’t feel physically weak. He didn’t feel the ache of a fight. Nor could he remember using any jutsu that could have caused this. A genjutsu, was his first worry. Or had he been poisoned? How? When?

The last thing he remembered he’d been at his father’s house. He remembered hallucinating – seeing his father’s dead body. He remembered Obito’s eye itching and then…

Nothing…

How had he ended up here? Worried – bordering on panicked – he checked his surroundings again, now that his vision was slowly clearing again, and the world had stopped spinning. He was alone, definitely. He didn’t see nor hear or smell another person. Only the trees and animals and wet earth. There was salt in the air. The sea. Impossible! He’d have to be at least a day’s trip away from the village if he was close enough to the sea that he was able to smell it so clearly. What was going on?

Belatedly, he started checking himself over. He wasn’t hurting, no bumps or bruises beyond the shallow scabbed over cut in his thumb from when he had summoned Pakkun during the Kyuubi attack the day before. He wore the same ANBU uniform minus ANBU mask that he had worn when he’d seen the Hokage. He wore his headband slanted over his left eye, as he normally did when he wasn’t on missions for ANBU. There were no signs of blood or dirt on him, beyond a thin layer of sun-dried mud from where he had laid on the ground. He still had his sword strapped to his back. Checking his weapon’s pouch, all his kunai, shuriken, scrolls, soldier pills, wire, and other equipment was still there.

As if he had just teleported here. Indeed, teleportation might be the only explanation. The only jutsu he knew that could do that, was Minato-sensei’s very own Flying Thunder God technique. But Minato-sensei was dead, buried just hours ago, and he also couldn’t find any of his seals lying around, which he’d need as a marker for the technique. It also wouldn’t explain, how Kakashi didn’t remember anything. For now, he assumed he had to live with not knowing. There were other questions to focus on.

For example, where exactly he was. Because now that he had a clearer view of the woods around him, they not only didn’t much resemble the woods around Konoha that he knew inside out, but he wasn’t even sure he was in the Land of Fire anymore. Some of the scents were familiar, some of the plants he knew, but there were others he had never seen before. Those were not native to the Land of Fire.

But where else was he? This was neither the snowy mountain region to the north nor the desolate desert and rock formations to the west. It might be the Land of Water, he thought, though he was unconvinced. He hadn’t spent much time there yet, so he didn’t know their forests. But from what he knew of the country, it was known for its cool weather and mists, but this was a clear and warm day. Still, if he was in the Land of Water, that could be troublesome. They had just signed the peace treaty between the great nations, but relations were still tense. If he was detected by the wrong people and recognized as a shinobi of the leaf, that might spell trouble. A Konoha-shinobi in foreign territory without prior notice might be reason enough to declare war again and Kakashi did not fancy being the cause for the next Great Shinobi War. He wouldn’t be the first in his family to have that honor.

Even if this was one of the smaller countries close to the coast – who would not declare war so easily – being found out might cause diplomatic troubles.

Deciding it was best, he didn’t show his allegiance openly, he took off his Konoha headband, and instead wrapped a piece of bandage around his forehead and Obito’s Sharingan eye. He also decided to take off his leg-pouch and the sword and removed the wrappings around his calves and pieces of armor. He bandaged his shoulder, where his ANBU tattoo would give away his affiliation. After sealing everything away in a storage scroll, he was fairly convinced that he wasn’t recognizable as a leaf shinobi anymore. At least not to a common civilian. His name had recently been added to a few villages’ Bingo Books, so there was a decent chance a foreign shinobi might recognize him just off his looks. There was nothing to be done about that, short of using a genjutsu – which depending on how well another shinobi was with detecting it, might be more suspicious than just walking around as a teenager. He was young, after all, and he hadn’t met anybody who didn’t underestimate him, yet. Still, in the next village, he should probably try to get some more inconspicuous civilian clothes.

**

He quickly got used to the strange forest. He liked forests. They made him feel more at home than deserts, or meadows, or mountains. This forest wasn’t very impressive though. Around Konoha, there were massive old trees with thick branches and crowns of leaves that led almost no light through. This forest was much more open. It was a mixed forest with a decent number of conifers as opposed to the Land of Fire’s broadleaf forests. Most of the tree branches, he was certain, wouldn’t carry a man’s weight.

He was a little disappointed when he didn’t walk long at all before the forest opened up to open meadows and fields, sprawling all the way to where he saw the sea sparkle under the sun. It was barely even a forest at all. Still, he had to admit, the soft hills he now had free sight on, were beautiful. Mostly, he was surprised by how cultivated they seemed. He saw rows of trees, patches of forests, spread through green meadows with knee-high grass and fields of red and gold in odd almost square shapes that couldn’t be natural. There were paths, streets, and small rivers with bridges cutting through the hills. As he kept on walking, he saw fences that clearly indicated that the land belonged to somebody. Yet, he saw no actual settlement. Some lone houses here and there, but no villages, and no people around.

The people who lived in this place cultivated different plants than he was used to. In the Land of Fire, they most commonly planted rice, here there was golden wheat and red poppy, and other plants he didn’t know or had only ever seen described in books and scrolls.

At normal walking speed, he needed a bit over two hours to reach the coast. East, he noticed. He was going east to the coast. At least if he was still in the northern hemisphere. Kakashi found himself standing atop a beautiful cliff-side. It wasn’t particularly high, but he rather enjoyed the view. Rough rock jutted out into the waves. He could not see any land on the other side all the way to the horizon.

Looking down, Kakashi noticed an odd dark shape on the long and wide sand beach. Curiously, Kakashi went along the cliff, a little closer towards the odd shape. An animal. Had it fallen off the cliff? With a simple jump, he slid down the cliff landed feather-light on the beach below.

Indeed, there, right at the coast, still wet from the sea was a shaggy black dog. It was quite big, Kakashi realized. Well-fed, it might be comparable to Bull in size, he thought, but there was nothing ‘well-fed’ about the scrawny mutt. The fur was standing shaggy off a starved and skeletal frame.

Kakashi liked dogs. His father had helped him train his first ninken. Now, he had his own pack. He hadn’t trained them all himself, some he had taken over from father, and really with all of them, they trained each other more than anything else. But still… Seeing this creature starved like that stung Kakashi. He was a dog person after all.

Where had it come from anyway? Had it somehow climbed down the cliff and tried to fish in the water without success? Or had it swum here from… from where? At least, Kakashi was reasonably sure that this dog was a stray.

Still fearing that it might have fallen off the cliff or otherwise been hurt, Kakashi knelt and checked it over for injuries. It was a male He thought he found a few bruises hidden away behind the fur, but nothing severe apart from the starvation. The dog was breathing steadily. He was also shaking like a leaf. He seemed only asleep, though the fact that he hadn’t been woken up by a stranger’s scent – never mind said stranger getting up close and personal – was alarming.

Something was odd, about his scent, Kakashi thought. He clearly smelled of dog, but there was a rather overwhelming human note to it. And that wasn’t just the lingering scent of being cuddled or scratched between the ears – never mind that this dog did not look like he’d ever been cuddled or scratched between the ears – but something much stronger. It reminded Kakashi almost of the Inuzuka. That clan of shinobi possessed dog-like characteristics – and they smelled that way too. While they smelled more human than dog, this one smelled more dog than human, but it was still somewhere oddly in between.

“You’re hungry, hm?” Kakashi muttered his hand resting over the ribs that were so clearly standing out even through the fur. He didn’t remember ever seeing a dog in such a malnourished state and still be alive.

He stood, stretched, and looked out to the sea. If nothing else, he could feed the poor creature. Soldier pills wouldn’t do, he knew. They kept the body running, but they weren’t suited to treat malnutrition and starvation. Fish might do the trick, though.

**

Sirius woke up to salt and smoke in his nose and the crusty feeling of sun-dried seawater in his fur. He woke up to an aching body, to an empty cramping stomach, to bone-deep exhaustion. Most of all, he woke up to freedom. The last thing he remembered was the sheer panic as he was dragged down by the sea, but apparently, the sea had been merciful. It had washed him ashore. Where exactly, he didn’t know, yet, but at least – that much was clear by the warmth of the sun in his fur – it wasn’t that blasted prison island.

Wait… Smoke? Fire?

Now that the initial surprise at having survived so far began to pass, he was able to discern the scents more thoroughly. There was the salt of the sea, smoke and fire, another person, and… grilled fish? He wasn’t alone. There was a human close by. A human with food.

And Sirius was hungry.

He blinked his eyes open against the bright sun, and then he was on all four, growling. Sirius was moving on pure instinct, as he crouched down for the attack, aiming at the fish roasting over a small open fire. But then he froze, as his human mind caught up with what he’d been about to do.

That person sitting at the fire, it was just a boy. The same age Harry would be now. Just a kid, and Sirius was about to attack him.

Did you sink so low, that you’re ready to attack a kid? Steal their food? Is that how far you’ve fallen?

Ashamed he found himself taking half a step back. A single grey eye followed each of his movements with an unnerving expression somewhere between bored and alert. The other eye was covered in white bandages, most of his face – really – was hidden away by those bandages and a black cloth mask. There was a shaggy lopsided tuft of spiky grey hair. Even James’ hair hadn’t been that wild. An odd kid, Sirius thought, but still, just a child and he would rather starve than…

But can you afford that? Can you afford to starve to death while Peter is still with Harry?

Angry over his own self-doubts, he shook his head trying to dispel his own thoughts. Then he turned away, to look along the cliff. He had no clue where he was. This might be everywhere in central- or southeast England.

The boy’s voice made Sirius turn back to him. What had he said? He hadn’t understood it. Then he spoke again, holding up a fish in Sirius's direction. His lips were clearly moving behind the mask, and Sirius heard his voice, but beyond the overall bored but kind tone, he didn’t understand a thing. He understood the gesture, though.

Wearily, and distrusting he padded through the sand the few meters to the fireplace. Carefully, he sniffed the fish. The boy chuckled quietly, then said something else, and then pulled the fish away. Sirius whined disappointed. He’d thought—

A hand was behind his ears scratching comfortably. Sirius couldn’t help but lean into the touch. He hadn’t been touched kindly like that in years. Before Azkaban, being able to turn into a dog supplied him with a constant stream of cuddles and massages and small loving tickles. Since then, however, human contact had been reduced to a minimum, and whatever physical contact he had, had been all but kind. He leaned his head heavily into the touch. The boy spoke again. Then when he pulled his hand away, Sirius rolled over on the sand, exposing his belly. The boy chuckled again, but only gave one more short scratch of his belly.

Sirius whined when the boy stopped. He spoke again, as if in reply to Sirius’ whining. If only he could understand that language. Sirius, initial fear, that he might not have landed in England after all, but somewhere on the continent, where they didn’t speak English, had left him now, that he heard more than a few words. The language was decidedly Asian, though he could not place it exactly.

Curiously, he watched the boy, as he worked on the fish. Then, after only a few moments, Sirius turned around again, when he realized, the boy wasn’t in fact withholding the treat he had offered earlier. He was plucking out the bones. Sirius ate the first bit when the boy carefully laid it out in front of him in the sand, trying not to get it too sandy. Still, Sirius took quite a bit of sand with it. It was grinding and crackling against his teeth, though as a dog, he did not mind it too much. He licked his lips, then he ate the next bit right out of the boy’s hand. The kid chuckled again.

Sirius didn’t know if it was just this boy specifically or the sudden vicinity to… kindness and casual friendliness… that made him love this little amused sound so much, that he wanted to hear more of it. As he waited for more, he nudged the boy’s neck and was rewarded with another small chuckle. It was never more than that. Never a full-on laugh, and he never saw the smile behind the mask. But it was enough. Would it be like that when he finally met Harry?

Stop it! Harry likely hates you. He has every reason to. This boy would too if he knew who you were.

The thought brought a stop to his enthusiasm, but he still ate the fish he was offered with the same vigor. The first real solid food, the first thing that wasn’t a tasteless, colorless mush.

Sirius glanced at the last of three coalfish, that the boy didn’t feed to him. It was still spit-roasting over the fire. It smelled good, and for a moment Sirius wished he could turn human and really eat with the boy. Of course, he couldn’t.

**

What an odd dog, Kakashi thought. Based on his state, he’d bet the dog hadn’t been trained by humans. A stray. Despite the strong smell of human, it was how Kakashi had explained the animal’s abysmal state. Yet, he had rarely if ever seen such a well-behaved dog. Even among trained ones, it was difficult to keep them in check, once they were hungry. This one… He’d clearly planned to attack for just a moment but then changed his mind. Why?

Overall, some of his actions seemed odd. Some of his expressions were almost human. Never mind, that he hadn’t even lunged when Kakashi had pulled the fish away to take out the bones first. As if the animal understood that was what he was doing. Obviously, he couldn’t speak and apparently also didn’t understand what Kakashi was saying. But other than that, this one seemed almost on par with his ninken in terms of intelligence.

As he pulled down his mask and started eating his own dinner, he absentmindedly ruffled the dog’s fur in between bites. The animal obviously liked that. Despite how he’d first seemed careful and weary when he came closer, he reacted to touch like a touch-starved child. Kakashi ate fast, but as there was nobody else around, he was in no hurry. His thoughts were with the animal that now laid comfortably at his side, the belly lowered down into the sand.

He’d thought it might be an illusion. A human dog transformation that was more than just a regular henge, but he couldn’t detect an illusion and he also didn’t detect any chakra reserves that would suggest that this dog was a shinobi in disguise or even a ninken. For all intents and purposes, he seemed to be an ordinary dog, just that he didn’t smell like one, and that he was clearly more intelligent than most dogs, Kakashi had ever met.

Well, as long as he wasn’t an enemy, it didn’t matter much. So, there was a smart dog, he’d tell Pakkun about it later. The leader of his ninken pack would have a laugh at that, or he’d feel insulted at being compared to some stray. The chances were 50/50 at that.

The more his thoughts drifted away from the animal, the more he came back to his initial situation. “Do you know where we are?” he asked, looking around. Then he chuckled. “Well, I guess you can’t answer anyway.” He pulled his mask back up. Now that it was slowly getting dark, he saw lights further down the coast. There was some sort of village or city there. He’d just have to ask the inhabitants. And if he wanted to get anything done today, he should probably start going soon.

Standing up, he smothered the flames with sand and then gave the dog one last more thorough cuddle, before he turned to walk towards the lights. Kakashi didn’t expect it, but when he started walking, the dog followed as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He didn’t mind the company.

Chapter Text

Well… Kakashi didn’t know what he had expected, but it wasn’t a city with people who not only spoke a completely different language but even used a different alphabet.

It wasn’t a particularly big place, he realized when he walked from one end to the next. Konoha was bigger, though not by much. Other than that, every attempt for comparison to Konoha was soon doomed for failure. This place was completely different. There was no protective wall or border surveillance. The architecture was different, the people wore different clothes and there were odd metal machines everywhere, that he quickly gathered, were meant for transport. Most strikingly he had to walk up and down before he realized that there was no clear administrative center. First – as he was used with Konoha – he’d gravitated towards the biggest building with the square tower, but upon coming closer, he’d realized it was likely a place for religious worship rather than government. There were other big buildings that stood out among their neighbors but none quite big enough, that he suspected it to be the seat of the city’s leader. This was clearly not a shinobi-village, but more than that, it was unlike any city he had ever been in – civilian or shinobi.

The people here – that was quite clear from the way they walked – felt safe even without reinforced borders. On top of that, despite the architecture looking decidedly luxurious and rich – more so than most civilian villages he knew, which were built from wooden huts sprinkled in between sprawling fields – he could not find a Daimyo’s or even a representative’s seat.

Odd. Feeling lost, he sat down on a park bench next to a field of red poppy. It did not look like this village had seen any war lately. Not within the last decade or five at least. They spoke a language he had never heard, used an alphabet he’d never seen. More than anything he was certain now, that this was not the Land of Water. If he didn’t think the mere idea was absurd, he’d assume that he’d left their continent entirely. How?

Absentmindedly he tickled the big black dog who was standing next to him, watching the people with a rare curiosity for a dog.

“Mah,” Kakashi muttered, “can’t help it.” With how things turned out and having no idea how he could get home as it was… he had no other chance, but to try and learn the language. If nothing else, it was a rather new and unexpected challenge. There was a small shop, he had walked by earlier. It looked like a bit of a junk shop, selling everything from souvenirs to books to second-hand clothes.

As he entered the shop a small jingle welcomed him into the room. It smelled of dust, leather, and old wood.

“Welcome,” an elderly woman greeted, hands clasped together, giving him a broad smile from where she sat behind the register. Although he didn’t know the word, he understood the meaning easily enough.

“Thank you,” he answered as he held the door open for the dog. The dog blinked up at him as if confused.

“Oh no, dear, your dog has to wait outside,” the woman said from where she sat, quickly standing up to walk up to him. “I’m sorry.”

“Your dog?” he repeated questioningly, trying to copy her way of speaking.

“My?” she shook her head confused. “No, your dog… Oh, I see, you don’t understand English? English?”

He shook his head, not understanding. She pointed to the dog. “Dog,” she said. Then she pointed to him and again to the dog. “Your dog. Outside.” She pointed out the door.

Apparently, the dog had already understood, as it retreated quickly to wait on the street. Curious, Kakashi thought. Really well-trained.

“Dog,” Kakashi repeated with a smile. “Outside. Thank you.” He bowed lightly.

“Ah,” the woman squealed as if not expecting the gesture. “What language do you speak? Is that Chinese? Oh wait, I know!”

To his surprise, she pushed a hand between his shoulder blades. He bristled a little at the sudden contact, but as she pushed him forward, he followed without complaint. She led him to a shelf with many brochures all designed in a similar way, and, as she pulled out a few – clearly searching for something – he realized they were all the same just in different languages. Curiously, he peered at some of them, until she gave him one with a red flag in the top right corner.

He frowned at it. Then his single eye widened. Almost, he thought. The Kanji seemed similar, but he couldn’t quite make sense of it all. He shook his head. The woman handed him a different brochure.

This was it.

“Cromer,” he read in Katakana, reading it out loud. “Norfolk.”

“Ah Japanese, there you go.” At his look of confusion, she pointed at the flag. “Japanese,” she pulled out another map with a blue flag with red and white lines crisscrossing through its center. “English.” The lady shook her head. “Oh, dear you really don’t know a single word.”

He took the other brochure. The English one. He started to understand. Glad that apparently, at least these people knew of his language. That would make it a lot easier. If he found a dictionary somewhere… but the shop did not seem big enough to randomly offer Japanese – English dictionaries. Still looking around, he found something else of interest. There were a number of small hard-cover children’s stories. Among others, there was one with a big dog at the front. He picked it up, flipped through it until he found a picture of a big Labrador on one of the first pages. ‘Dog’ was written above it. He showed the script to the woman. “Dog?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said with a pleased smile. But she also looked tired, having to communicate with him that way. Kakashi felt almost a little bad for it. It also really ruffled his feathers being treated like a kid again. And he even felt adequately helpless with his utter lack of understanding. Frustrated now, he gave the book and the brochures back to her.

“Oh no, keep them. It’s a present. For such a kind boy.” She ruffled his hair to his own embarrassment. As she gestured with her hands, pushing the items back to him, he understood. “A Gift.”

“A gift…”

He hid all three items in a tiny little plastic bag and then left the shop. Frowning down at the dog, he thought for a moment. “Dog,” he then said testily. It was as if the animal nodded happily at that.

Shaking his head, Kakashi waved for him to follow.

**

Whatever Sirius had expected of his first day as a free man, he hadn’t seen himself following around a young apparently Japanese kid who did not speak a word of English and seemed to be completely without parents. He didn’t think he’d follow a boy around on their first step to learning the English language. He hadn’t expected to get nicknamed ‘Dog’ by the end of the day, and most of all… He had not expected the boy to leave the town again and climb a tree just outside its boundaries to sleep between its leaves.

Confused and worried that the kid might fall, Sirius whined and woofed up to the boy, who only said something down to him which sounded distinctly unworried and calming. Sirius gave up then and simply curled up at the tree trunk below the boy.

Cromer, he thought, Norfolk. That was where he was. He could go straight to Hogwarts, or make a detour southwest for Surrey, where he remembered Lily’s sister lived.

If Sirius had thought that first day was curious, what followed was even more so. As he woke up, the boy was already up and about. Somehow, he had woken up, climbed down his tree, and apparently even searched for breakfast all without waking Sirius. It seemed impossible, but it had been the smells of raw meat that had awoken him, and now he was watching a young teenager skin and then roast a squirrel on a tiny fire as if it was a daily routine. Sirius stood up, walking around the fire, watching curiously.

The boy scratched Sirius’s head when he was done with the squirrel, leaving it to roast over the fire. With the other hand he inspected a number of wild berries he must have collected. Sirius felt worried as he vaguely remembered that some of them were poisonous, though he wasn’t sure entirely. But instead of just eating them, the boy would sniff them first, then squish them between his fingers sniff them again and by then he had already discarded most that Sirius was sure were poisonous. With those he hadn’t already discarded before, he’d test the juice on his finger, then the entire berry. He clearly knew what he was doing. Twice in the middle of chewing he spit a berry out again. How the boy did that, Sirius didn’t know. Even he with his dog senses wouldn’t be able to distinguish poisonous foods from healthy ones, in most cases. Not because his nose didn’t pick up the different odors but rather because he was missing the right reference framework in his memory. He simply did not know what poison smelled like unless it was so acidic that it already corroded the hairs in his nose, just by breathing in the fumes.

Ultimately – to Sirius's great surprise – the boy threw the cooked squirrel and most of the remaining berries right in front of his snout. Had he eaten already while Sirius was still asleep? Or was he not hungry? In any case, Sirius did not feel like complaining. He felt famished and hunger stuck to him like glue. He was mooching and living off this teenager, he acknowledged with some shame, but he didn’t know the first thing about hunting and although he wasn’t above it, he’d rather avoid digging through trash.

After breakfast, the boy led him back to the town. Sirius was a little surprised at that as he hadn’t gotten the impression, that the boy had been very interested in the place. Yet, here he was again. Overnight he had apparently studied the tourist brochure he had been gifted. Now he was walking up to random people on the street, showing them random places on the tiny map, and somehow managed to transmit his question about how to get to said location. For some reason, he asked multiple people for the same directions, and then when he finally made his way to the mayor’s house, the church, the park, the coast, he wasn’t in the least bit interested in it, but simply asked to be led to the next big sight on his list. Sirius was utterly confused.

Not everybody of the pedestrians he spoke to, was polite. Some were quite short with the boy, others even insulting with one suggesting if the boy used both eyes, maybe he wouldn’t overlook the giant church tower. Most were forthcoming, however, if with varying degrees of patience at his attempts to ask more detailed questions. It was only when Kakashi asked a young couple – they were the fifth group to who he had asked that same question – that Sirius finally understood.

“Right,” Kakashi said, pointing to the right. “The third turn right?” He held up three fingers.

The young woman nodded encouragingly. “Right. very nice,” as if approving of his accents.

He was learning the language! And at a tempo that was nothing short of staggering. Throughout all his time in Hogwarts, Sirius had been praised for his smarts. He and James, the Hogwarts poster-children. This kid, however... By the third day, he was stealing newspapers off the trash trying hard to decipher the letters. He was mumbling as he did it as if he was solving one of the world’s greatest mysteries. Sirius just heard enough to know, that the boy was thinking about the letters of the alphabet and he didn’t want to probe any further than that anyway. Sirius himself had a lot to hide, and so he felt no desire to probe into other people’s business.

Sirius thought, it was safe to assume, he still didn’t know half the words and pronounced a decent junk of them wrong. But he had the letter’s down. He could read the signs individually or in words he knew, but outside of that the pronunciation often changed. He was starting to speak more to the people he talked to on the street. Sometimes he got the word order wrong, sometimes, he didn’t make sense at all. Sometimes he was mocked for it and often he was praised for his effort. None of them, Sirius assumed, would guess that the boy hadn’t spoken a word of English just a few days ago.

It was magnificent. So much so, that Sirius didn’t feel any loss at all for spending the first week of his daring escape with this boy instead of making his way north toward Hogwarts. He knew he should go. There were things he had to do. But this boy… He was kind and caring beyond anything Sirius had experienced in years. He had saved him from starvation and loneliness. And at the same time, he seemed so very alone himself. Soon, a week had passed, and Sirius hadn’t met any parents, or friends who might be traveling with the boy. He also didn’t make contact through other means – always walking past the red boxes that Sirius remembered to be public telephones, without giving them a second glance.

Still, time was running short, Sirius knew. He was aware that the authorities would have noticed his prison break and were likely searching through the entire country for the mass murderer on the loose. He could not risk being caught. He had a job to fulfill, and he couldn’t be side-tracked, no matter how at peace he felt with this strange young boy.

“Prime Minister Sir John Major met with his French colleague Édouard Balladur in Nice, France,” the boy read from the dirty old newspaper. He read slowly, butchering almost every second word. The French name didn’t sound at all correct, though Sirius wouldn’t know. Whatever he had ever known about Muggle politics, he was thoroughly out of the loop now. “…to discuss the ongoing conflict between…”

His voice drowned on. The boy sat next to Sirius, one arm absently ruffling through shaggy fur. It was like a ritual they had started a few days ago, wherein the boy read world happenings to his dog, trying to make sense of it. This article seemed rather boring. Ostentatiously, Sirius gave a wide yawn. The boy chuckled as if he knew exactly what Sirius meant.

“Boring?” he asked with a strong accent… His brows furrowed trying to find an article where he at least understood the first two words. “Thirty people dead after violent confrontation close to Johannesburg, South Africa,” he read with some trouble.

Sirius lifted his head showing that he was listening, then he put it down on the boy’s lap. The boy only read part of the article, before he apparently got frustrated with the number of words he didn’t know. He wasn’t just lacking everyday words, but apparently also the general knowledge to place the different names of locations, peoples, and public figures. Instead of reading the last few paragraphs, he glared at the picture. Then he folded the newspaper, yawned, and climbed up into his tree for the night.

Sirius seemingly settled for the night. In truth, he had made his decision. He would leave now. It was time. He felt guilty, leaving the boy like that, but he could not turn to tell his good-byes and he couldn’t stay here either. Instead, he waited for a while until the boy’s breath evened out. Then he climbed on all fours, stretched, and threw one last glance at the boy before he turned to leave.

“Dog?”

How was he awake? But he clearly was. Quick as a cat he jumped off his tree landing elegantly on the ground. The boy was looking at him now, with something between surprise and sadness in his eyes. There was still the ever-present layer of boredom hiding each of his expressions, but Sirius thought he could see past that now.

“Where you are going?” he asked.

Sirius barked, giving the only response he could.

“Do you… want where?” Kakashi asked with a frown, unhappy with his own word choice.

Sirius walked back to him, nudged him in the thigh. The boy crouched down to scratch the fur on his neck. “I give real name to you,” he said. “’Dog’ is bad name, hm?” He didn’t chuckle, but his eyes curved in the most expressive show of a smile. “How about Shaggy? Good?”

Sirius couldn’t deny that it fitted. He nudged the boy’s shoulder.

“I’m Kakashi.” He lifted one of his hands to his own chest. “Kakashi.” Then he patted the length of Sirius’ snout. “Shaggy.”

Something rumbled warmly in Sirius’ chest. “Okay, where go?” Kakashi asked as he stood up, looking patiently down on Sirius.

Did he…? Did he want to follow Sirius? Who would follow some stray around?

But Sirius had no words to deny him, so he simply gave a short bark and then turned towards London. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could still see Harry, before the vacations ended. It was the end of July and the new school year was still a whole month away.

**

Kakashi had changed his opinion about the dog again. His initial idea that he might be a mere stray, had been disproven by how well-behaved he was around humans. Then, he’d been certain, he must have been trained by people. But the more time he spent with him the more he had to revise this opinion. He wasn’t responsive enough to simple gestures and commands. In fact, there were no commands, the dog listened to. It was rather as if he listened to and understood English. He did not react to the more common hand signals, yet if Kakashi wanted him to lay down, there was a myriad of ways to tell the dog that simple desire. He could tell him to lie down, to sit, to make himself comfortable, to come and cuddle, he might just raise his arm invitingly, and the dog would perfectly understand. Kakashi had tried playing around with the different signals a little, and simply… The dog’s intelligence was – he was sure – almost if not on par with Pakkun’s. He understood human language, instead of listening to certain hard-trained signals as most dogs did.

Sometimes Kakashi was even convinced, he could read. The dog could certainly read the ‘Dog’s stay outside’ signs better than Kakashi himself. He could differentiate when a door said ‘push’ or ‘pull’. Sometimes, when Kakashi was looking for a certain shop, he led him towards the exact right one. And yet, there were so many other aspects, he was so much worse at than Kakashi had expected.

For one, the dog could not hunt. On their third day, he’d been awake when Kakashi went on his hunt. The dog had followed and hadn’t known how to be quiet, how to properly lurk hidden in the bushes waiting for prey. He had about the subtlety of an angry horse. He also didn’t seem adept at tracking. Once he had followed a squirrel’s scent and was thrown off completely by the mere fact that the small animal had climbed a tree and jumped to another. He clearly had a sharp nose, but he didn’t seem to know what to do with it. Even his instincts were off, judging by how easy Kakashi could sneak around him. And then, this one night, one week after they met, a week after Kakashi had first arrived in this strange country, the dog just up and wanted to leave.

It was maybe for the best, Kakashi decided. Cromer, Norfolk was a small town and by now, the boy roaming the area with no parents or friends had become gossip around the place. Several people had already suggested calling an institution by the name ‘Police’ but from what Kakashi had learned, he didn’t want to be apprehended by them. It would either spell trouble or not help at all. At least, he had to know where exactly he was in relation to Konoha, how he got here and how to get back home before he could risk being caught by any foreign authority.

So, skipping town, seemed like the smart thing to do. He had no things to pack, so instead, he simply kicked down the burned-down coals of their fireplace. Then he rolled the newspaper together and followed the dog’s lead.

The dog’s lead. It would not be the first time, he’d do that. He was very much used to following Pakkun’s lead during missions. But a dog he could barely communicate with.

Shaggy… that was his name now.

Chapter Text

Shaggy let them at a leisurely pace. He turned around to make sure, Kakashi was keeping up every now and then, though the boy had no trouble whatsoever. Kakashi was even a little warmed by the consideration, though he didn’t need it. The dog stayed on pathways and streets through the fields, never quite entering the small patches of forest to the west. That too, Kakashi assumed, he did out of consideration.

A kind dog… Maybe overly so.

They followed a small road to an even smaller place called Metton. Kakashi deciphered the town sign, just as they entered the small amalgamation of houses. This one, Kakashi thought, reminded him much more of the villages he was used to. The architecture was still different of course, most buildings made of stone and brick. This village – just like Cromer – had a church throning above the rest, a solid fortress-like structure made of grey stone. But the size of the village was comparable to what he was used to. The houses stood spread far apart, belonging to small farms, each farm a small number of buildings grouped together, with a big front yard, and fields stretching out long behind it.

Charming, Kakashi thought, as he watched an elderly couple sit outside on their front porch, enjoying the morning sun.

A sudden loud noise made him jump. One of the big metallic machines was rolling up behind him. Kakashi could hear it come closer from far away, but he hadn’t been prepared for the loud horn that suddenly blared out. The big, bright green machine slowly rolled past them, the driver eying Kakashi and Shaggy wearily. He hadn’t even passed yet when he slowed down and came to a complete stop next to him. “You should take your dog on a leash,” the man in the front of the vehicle called out to him. “It’s dangerous when a car comes by and he gets frantic.”

Kakashi frowned at the man, trying to understand the language. “Leash?” he asked looking down at Shaggy. He’d heard the word a few times now regarding Shaggy. There was something in Shaggy’s stance, that bothered Kakashi every time he heard it. The dog was bristling, ducking, almost inching away at the word. Kakashi was confused by the reaction. He had understood it to mean some sort of rope to tie to the dog, so he would not run away. Kakashi himself saw little need for it. The dog seemed well-behaved enough, and well-adjusted to the world around him – in fact he seemed better adjusted than Kakashi himself. Never mind that Kakashi trusted his own reflexes enough, that he could catch the dog in time, before he could do something overly stupid like jump in front of this ‘car’. “I don’t… think…,” but he was running out of words. “Thanks, but I don’t think it’s necessary.” He switched to Japanese instead.

The man looked at him curiously. “Tourist?” he asked. Kakashi already knew that word. He nodded. When the man looked up and down the street, Kakashi knew what he was looking for. This land didn’t seem used to teenagers traveling alone. They’d have a laugh if they knew the kinds of things he’d already done and survived in his life. Well that, or they would declare him mad.

“Alone?” the man asked curiously and a little worried. When Kakashi nodded again, the man frowned. “You should be careful,” he said.

Careful… Kakashi tried to place the word. He was sure he had heard it before. “I’m sorry, I don’t know… careful,” he said.

The man made a face. “Just get back to your parents,” he suggested, turning back towards the street, starting his machine again. The motor almost drowned out the next words. “They say there’s a killer on the loose.” He drove on before Kakashi could try to decipher that sentence.

He knew ‘kill’. It had been in the article he had read to Shaggy just yesterday. So, he could guess what a killer was.

He saw the man and his machine turn left into one of the big yards in the village. Unsure what he should make of his last warning, he waved for Shaggy to continue their way. Kakashi truly did not fear a killer. He was one himself. As peaceful as this land seemed, Kakashi thought it was unlikely that there was anybody with a kill count quite as high as himself.

It was nothing he was proud of. Apparently, he had a talent for it. He was rather effective, and he would do everything for his village. But he was not proud of his murders.

He was proud to call himself Minato-sensei’s students. Obito’s friend who he had in the end entrusted his own Sharingan-eye. The man Rin thought, she could love. His father’s son… All things that were gifted to him. There was nothing of his own achievement to be proud of.

And look what you did with what you had. All dead in the ground.

He shook his head, realizing, Shaggy hadn’t moved yet. Kakashi had already taken the first few steps, but Shaggy was the guide for this journey. Impatiently, Kakashi looked back at him. “What is?” he asked.

But as if he just needed that push, Shaggy started moving again, measuredly putting one paw in front of the other, as if there was a danger that one wrong step might open the ground to swallow him whole. Curiously, Kakashi watched until Shaggy was past him again.

They passed a few more small villages that day. Kakashi realized that something had changed in Shaggy. He was more careful. He was glancing around himself. He kept closer to Kakashi. Whenever they entered a new village, he would visibly slow down, until he stepped into the inhabited area. It was curious. Part of Kakashi wondered if the dog had understood the warning about the killer and was worried. It was an amusing thought.

“Hey Shaggy,” Kakashi called out jokingly just as they left a place called Erping…something.

The dog perked up, trudged over to him, and nudged his hand with his wet snout. His tail wagged a little, showing more life than he had ever since they left Metton.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his single eye curving into a smile, as he knelt and ruffled the wild fur. “No worries about killer.” He bit down hard on his lip. How often had he said that? Every day since Obito’s death, he spoke it like a mantra into the mirror. What good had it ever done him? He had failed and failed and failed. And yet, he had meant it every time. And yet… What else was there? He had failed his friends, his comrades, his teacher. But surely a dog… A mutt with no enemies? He could do that. “I don’t let friends die.” He had tried hard for that sentence, stringing the words together, until it sounded right.

For some reason, the dog’s tail-wagging stopped immediately. His ears stood up as he stared at Kakashi with wide intelligent eyes. Then he gave a single approving bark before he dragged a hot wet tongue over Kakashi’s palm. The boy grimaced a little, wiping his hand in the dog’s fur.

He didn’t know if the dog had understood his words, or if his words had even made sense in English. In any case, Shaggy’s behavior didn’t get better all the way to the next bigger settlement. It was a place called Aylsham and it was the first place that seemed in size comparable to Cromer. At least there were shops again, and he recognized the more densely built rows of houses. If nothing else this little trip was proof enough, that this land seemed much more densely populated than he was used to. This was now the second settlement almost comparable to Konoha in size, and they were just 3 hours apart – 3 hours at a casual civilian stroll.

Once more, Shaggy seemed to almost hesitate, before he led Kakashi straight into the center of Aylsham. If he was so afraid of people, Kakashi thought a little bothered by this behavior, why lead Kakashi this way anyway? Kakashi didn’t need to see these places. However, now that he was here…

Walking past the many shops, he thought having a little money wouldn’t be half bad. Whatever money he had with him was worthless after all.

A small shop caught his sight. He couldn’t quite decipher the script on the sign. The font was odd, much heavier, and a little fancier than he was used to. It had the distinct characteristics of traditional quill writing. But it made it so much more difficult to read the foreign symbols. The big window, however, showed a wild arsenal of what Kakashi assumed were different historical artifacts, among which were several weapons – some of which seemed familiar.

He made a beeline for the shop. Shaggy seemed a bit surprised by this turn, but he followed regardless before he stopped short in front of the door. More than usual, now that he had to wait outside, he ducked low making himself small, as if trying to hide. Was he afraid without Kakashi close by? Still, he stayed outside without even a complaining whine.

“What can I do for you?” a young man asked as he entered. There was only one other customer. “What strikes your fancy, lad?”

“I want…,” Kakashi said frustrated at the difficulties he still had with the language. “I need money.”

The man laughed a little baffled. “Sorry, kid, I’m not a bank. That’s just down the road.”

“No.” His hand moved back to his pouch pulling out a kunai. He carefully tried to not hold it in a threatening way. The young man still jumped as the knife blinked in the light of the shop. Kakashi quickly put it on the register. “You get kunai. I get money.”

The man stared at him. “You want to sell?” He looked down at the knife. “Jesus, kid, where did you get that?” His hand made a quick grab for the knife, Kakashi let him. “Is that… Oh, wow, it’s bloody sharp.” He stupidly bumped his thumb against the weapon drawing a tiny bit of blood. Could he not tell that it was sharp by simply looking at it? Kakashi was a bit annoyed at that carelessness. “Where did you get that?” He asked again.

“Yes, sell,” Kakashi said instead of answering. “How much?”

But the man wasn’t ready to give an answer quite yet. “It looks real,” he said.

Kakashi scoffed, of course, it was real. Didn’t these people ever see real weapons that they’d react so overly dramatic over a simple kunai. Kakashi had dozens of these.

“It’s a Japanese throwing knife,” the man uselessly supplied, ignoring all the other ways a Kunai might be used. It was a nifty little all-around tool, much more than just a throwing weapon. But he didn’t intend to educate this man on the ways of the shinobi. He just wanted some money, so he gave a curt nod.

“How old are you?” the man asked. “How did you even get this?” The same question again.

Kakashi shook his head. “Excuse me.”

“Ah, not much English, hm. You’re Japanese?”

Kakashi nodded, just to make this easier and quicker.

“Alright. I think I can give you 90 £ for it.” The man sighed. “I’ll be honest. Doesn’t feel right to pull a boy over the barrel. You’d get more for it in London… or bloody hell even Norwich. But I can give you 90 £.”

Kakashi understood only half of that. Though he might keep in mind, that he could try selling another kunai in this London or Norwich if he ever got there. “Okay, 90 £,” he said. If he remembered correctly from his time in Cromer that was not a lot, but nothing to scoff at either. And he really needed some money. The first city he’d see, he’d planned to buy new clothes, to better fit in. But that hadn’t worked out so well, once he’d learned that his money was useless here.

“Alright.” The man handed him a few banknotes.

He went straight from the weapons and history stuff shop to the next place where they sold clothes. Not willing to let Shaggy suffer outside alone for long again, he quickly picked a rather boring dark green shirt with a small symbol of a wave or – or maybe an upside-down U-letter? – over the heart. He paid 20 £ for that and then after short consideration entered a third shop. A pet shop.

After all, he had decided that the guy over in Metton had been right. Not regarding the leash, but he should at least put some sort of collar on the dog. This way, he just looked like a stray, and back in Cromer, he’d been referred to as such a few times, and people had made to shoo him away until they’d realized he was with Kakashi. Something to show, he belonged, wouldn’t be bad, Kakashi thought.

He had no need to look for the cheapest or most beautiful one that struck his fancy. Instead, he took the next best, which looked wide enough for Shaggy, even after he’d hopefully gain a few pounds. However, when he showed the collar to Shaggy outside the shop, the dog growled, crouched, whined. His eyes widened to huge circles and he was shaking like a leaf, the way Kakashi had last seen it when he first found the dog. As Kakashi made to grab for him, the dog actually snapped at him. Kakashi pulled his hand back in time, but he was still surprised by the reaction.

“It tried to bite!” Somebody cried next to Kakashi. “That poor boy. The dog is too big for him.”

Then Shaggy jumped backward, hunched in, and growled threateningly. Sighing, Kakashi put the collar back into his pouch. “Alright,” Kakashi grumbled, showing his now empty hands. “We don’t do now.” But instead of calming down, Shaggy made a half turn and dashed away through the street. A woman cried, as the dog almost ran her over, then a shop owner yelled in anger when Shaggy bumped against the table outside his shop. Expensive leather bags fell all over the street.

“Ah damn,” Kakashi grunted, hurrying to the man. “I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized and started collecting the bags at a speed that was only slightly above normal civilian speed. He sat the bags back down on the table and looked around that he hadn’t missed any.

“Your luck, nothing worse happened,” the shop owner grumbled. “Next time we start with a smaller one, nah?”

Kakashi gave him a tight smile before he turned looking for Shaggy. But he was out of sight.

Sighing, Kakashi followed his lingering scent. On the way back, he bought a newspaper at a kiosk. Their nightly reading ritual, he felt, had always helped calm the dog down a little, even after more exciting days or frustrating hunts. He also picked up some vegetables for himself and the dog.

He found Shaggy curled into himself under a bush a bit outside the town. He was hiding his snout under his paws and he was still shaking. Shaggy must’ve smelt Kakashi’s approach, yet all he did, was curl a little tighter as if he didn’t want to see him.

“Mah,” Kakashi hummed, tickling the dog’s head. “No collar,” he said. “I just not want you be kicked when not with me. Collar would show you are my.” But his explanation didn’t help to alleviate whatever fears he might have woken in the dog. Instead Shaggy started whining bitterly.

Kakashi scooted closer on his knees until he knelt right next to Shaggy. This time the dog reacted. He moved the head a little bit towards him, blinked up at Kakashi with regretful eyes, then he bumped the snout against his knee, the way he’d sometimes do to show his affection. Kakashi had a different idea. He still didn’t like Shaggy looking like he belonged to nobody. “Something else?” He was aware of how the dog watched each of his movements, so he moved slow, as he pulled his own headband out of his pouch.

“I have this here…” he pointed at his forehead. “Over my eye. It’s like scarf for you.”

He held it a little closer, so the dog could sniff it and decide what he wanted. Kakashi was sure, Shaggy understood. Shaggy always understood.

Finally, Shaggy lifted his head towards Kakashi, allowing him to tie the soft cloth around his neck. The metal plate weighed it down, but it was wide enough to not be constricting in any way. “Very good, big boy,” Kakashi applauded.

**

After Aylsham they walked the rest of the day without incident until Shaggy seemed to get tired on his paws. Kakashi found a nice resting spot between two large rocks right at a small river. Shaggy happily jumped into the river, playing around. Kakashi sat down to wash the vegetables and then offered it all raw. He needed a pot sometime soon. The first few days, he had eaten soldier pills, but now that a week had passed and he had not found a way to go home, he had slowly accepted the possibility that it might take him longer than expected to return to Konoha. He needed to keep the soldier pills for emergencies.

“Shaggy!” He called waving towards the stack of vegetables.

The dog looked over, stopped his playing, and trudged towards him to eat. The stack was quickly gone. Kakashi frowned. Shaggy hadn’t gained as much weight as he had hoped for. The malnourishment had to have been severe for such little improvement to show. And yet still, amazingly, he hadn’t eaten anything yet, that Kakashi hadn’t offered to the dog. It was a sort of discipline he might be expecting from his own ninken, not from a stray dog, no matter how intelligent it seemed.

Shaking his head, he took the newspaper, he had bought. “Convicted Mass-Murderer Sirius Black Suspected in Norfolk or Suffolk County. – Armed and Dangerous.” He read mildly interested. That was probably the guy the man in Metton had talked about. The newspaper rustled as he stretched it out a little, so he could read better. “Norwich/London. Friday night, July 23, 1993, Sirius Black escaped his high-security incarceration. Now the police published concerns, that the convicted killer may be hiding along the coastal area of east-central England. Police and the interior ministry warned that Black is armed and dangerous. Any sighting of him or other suspicious occurrences shall be reported to the police immediately. Citizens living along the coast of Norfolk and Suffolk are warned to stay alert. Please call the following emergency number if you know anything. The authorities offer a reward for hints that lead to the arrest of the convict. Black is armed and dangerous, please do not engage.”

Kakashi took a small sip of river water, from his waterskin. His eyes scanned the text again, trying to piece the bits of information he understood together. Then his gaze drifted to the dog. He only now realized that Shaggy – unlike normally had not come to rest his head on his lap. Instead, he cowered low, curled together right at the riverside, half-hidden by one of the rocks they were camping between.

“What’s up, Shaggy?” he asked, but he received no reaction. Shrugging, he turned back to his newspaper. It had been an exciting day for the dog. Maybe he was tired. It would be understandable.

“In 1981, Black was convicted of murder in 13 accounts, aiding and abetting murder in two accounts and attempted murder of a baby.” Kakashi bristled at that. He could understand murder and attempted murder, but young children were difficult. He had never done that himself, though he had heard of other shinobi accidentally killing young children or killing a child after they had already killed the mother, thinking it would otherwise starve. “As well as aiding and abetting a known terrorist orga—”

He stopped as a high-pitched whine reached his ears. Kakashi looked over to the dog. He was shaking again. He folded the newspaper, but in a way, that the article was still on top, so he could continue reading it in quiet. He had understood a decent bit of it and was surprised himself. Learning languages, he decided, was a rather fun and rewarding experience.

“Sleep,” he told Shaggy.

The dog whined again. And he didn’t stop for a whole while. At first, Kakashi thought, he might suffer from some pain Kakashi hadn’t noticed. He didn’t remember anything during their trip, but maybe he had injured himself jumping through the water. Or there had been a vegetable he couldn’t digest correctly in the mix. Kakashi crawled a little closer, hovering a hand over the shivering body. It was only then, that he realized, that the dog was indeed asleep. He was…dreaming? Did he have a nightmare?

Kakashi sometimes had the feeling that the dog slept fitfully. Kakashi did too. Honestly, he hardly slept at all. Kakashi always waited until exhaustion pushed him over the edge, which meant he might stay two or three days awake before he finally caught some sleep. And then he’d only sleep in bouts of four to five hours – even here where he didn’t feel threatened despite the murderer on the loose.

He looked back to the article. There was an image of Black. Shaggy black locks, pasty white skin stretching over a thin face with eyes lying deep in their holes. There was a sort of hysteria forever frozen in the picture. A manic energy, he sometimes saw in his own comrades after coming back from a horrible mission: either a mission gone horribly wrong, or a mission objective that was so horrible from the start, that nobody could go away unscathed from that. If nothing else, one thing was clear from that picture: This man had seen horror. Looking into his eyes, glinting and forever frozen on camera, Kakashi felt he might be the first man in this entire country who could understand the first thing about what Kakashi himself had lived through. The horrors he had seen. The horrors he had committed.

KAKASHI! Rin’s voice screamed in his head.

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the memory. It’s no memory! She hadn’t screamed. She’d whispered, and barely that. It’s just in your head. Then he folded the newspaper again and put it aside. He watched the flames of their small fire flickering in the breeze that fought its way past the two big rocks. It would go out soon. Kakashi hadn’t built the fire to survive the night. He drew his legs in, hugged them close to his chest. The way the flames danced red and orange reminded him of the Kyuubi’s tails. The way the beast had ravaged the village. The way it had clawed a massive hole into Minato—

A whine, louder than the ones before made him flinch and turn around. It sounded odd. Less animalistic. More human. And then, there, right in front of his eyes, Shaggy, the big black starving dog, shifted. Turned and transformed.

The way his limbs and spine stretched, the way his joints shifted, it looked painful, but either the man was used to it or he didn’t feel anything after all. He didn’t wake. The dog that Kakashi had led around for just about a week and who had led him around the entire day today, vanished and in its stead was a man with tattered rags for clothes, so thin, Kakashi would swear there was nothing between ell and radius bone but a hollowed layer of leathery skin. A human cry escaped from chapped lips, then the man curled in similar to how the dog had curled in tight.

Maybe it was the unfamiliarity of the motion with his now human limbs, that made him wake up.

Chapter Text

In his dream, he was back in Azkaban. He wasn’t sure if it was the idea of the collar, or the reminder of who he was, whether it was the fact that he now had confirmation that they were of course hunting for him… or the knowledge that they knew where he was.

Of course, they knew! Surely, they just calculated the waves and guessed where he might have been washed ashore. For a week, he had played this innocent little game. He’d played the boy and his dog with Kakashi. He’d craved his kindness, his caring…

But he didn’t deserve it now, did he?

Had he lost the goal out of his eyes? And what even was the goal?! Was he so arrogant? He didn’t really believe that he could fight the entire nation, that he could get past the dementors, and passed the aurors, passed the teachers, Hogwarts’ very own security mechanisms, and Dumbledore himself. They all knew him guilty. And wasn’t that what he was? Guilty of being a fool…

The most secure place in all of Great Britain, and he… what a fool he was.

He was back in Azkaban. Shackled, manacled, collared like an animal. Peter would kill Harry, and Remus and everything Sirius still held dear. He wouldn’t be able to protect anybody. Just like he hadn’t protected James and Lily. He’d die hated, a traitor, a murderer, his best friend’s killer! A fool.

He could smell them. He could feel the cold creeping into his bones. Dementors standing vigil in his dying moments. The only ones who cared to see him off. Once back in their grasp, they wouldn’t let him go again. The first one to ever escape Azkaban… Yeah right! Because nobody else was fool enough to try. Only him. In that regard at least, his parents had it right… Arrogant little fool.

They wouldn’t let him shift into Padfoot anymore. They’d make sure of it; take the one reprieve he had left… In his dream, he shifted again. Back to human. Back to Sirius Black, the disappointment to the Black family, the traitor to the order, and the killer to his friends. He’d spelled their doom. He’d—

He stared into a single curious grey eye. Something wasn’t right. He knew it immediately. His body felt off. His vision was off. He didn’t smell the coals of the dying fire or the river or the boy on the other side of the fireplace. The only thing he smelled was his own stinking body and the rags they had given him to wear 12 years ago and then only washed once a month, often enough not even that.

Wait… No!

He surged upright, sudden panic strangling his breath out of his throat.

No! Please no!

But he already knew, his prayers came too late. He was too tall. Human size. Standing upright, struggling to his feet. He was so unused to the height, his vision shifted, he overbalanced, fell back on all four, shaking. His hands. His filthy hands, right in front of his eyes. Caked in dirt. Human hands.

Kakashi – the boy – that kind child who had fed him and cared for him and called him a friend! The boy had jumped up, too, as Sirius had surged to his feet. Now, he stood towering above him. That young boy, kind and caring, who wasn’t fully grown yet. But with Sirius cowering on all fours, the boy looked down on him.

Nonono! This shouldn’t have happened!

What did you think? Idiot! Fool! Of course, you couldn’t hide it forever.

“Sirius Black,” the boy said matter-of-factly his distinct accent still struggling with the two consonants ‘BL’ following one after the other. As if he had already accepted the reality, that a dog – his dog (Sirius still wore his scarf! It hung comfortably around his neck, and yet – now it felt constricting, like a heavy burden and responsibility he could not bear.) – had shifted into a man. “You.”

“No…,” Sirius said, still in denial. He wasn’t trying to lie. He wished… He wished desperately he could be anybody else. If he could just take a different name, a different face, for a few months, he could kill Peter, he could protect Harry. Maybe he could even make Moony see the truth. But he did not have that luxury. He was Sirius Black, a convicted mass murderer. A pitiful, hateful, guilty creature. He was a cursed and damned man, and no matter how much he wished for it, he could not change that fact.

“I see picture,” Kakashi reminded him, turning the newspaper towards him, so he could see his own dirty, disheveled visage. It did not look like him. It looked like a madman.

He was a madman!

Sirius cowered down, hunched in. He didn’t know what to do. He’d been prepared to go to war with the entire country to get to Harry – no matter what, as long as Harry was safe at the end. And yet, he hadn’t even left Norfolk and this boy… Who had been kind and caring…

No… No! He couldn’t give up, now.

He lunged at the boy. The kid didn’t even have time to fight back. Perfectly still he looked up at Sirius, as the convict grabbed for his collar, then his neck, then…

What by Merlin are you doing!? Do you want to kill an innocent child? The only person who had been kind to you in over a decade!

How could he stand in front of Harry, or Remus, or himself… after killing a child who had been nothing but good to him?

No… I cannot…

His hands shifted from the boy’s neck to his shoulders down his chest until his fists shifted in the new green shirt that Kakashi had just bought earlier today. Sirius’ knees gave in. He did not know himself, if he was surrendering and admitting defeat or if he was simply out of energy. Maybe both. Both sounded right. His hands were raised and still knotted in Kakashi’s shirt. But his head was bowed deep, waiting.

**   

Kakashi looked down at the man. He didn’t look quite identical to the man in the picture. The man in the picture looked younger, not much, but just enough to make a difference. The man in the picture, in all his hysteria and manic energy, was terribly alive. This one though, the man kneeling in front of him…

Skin stretched tight over bone. Nothing but leathery sickly pale skin and bones. He had multiple rashes from bad hygiene where Kakashi saw it through the clothes and on his face. This man… captivity had left harsh scars on his body. Lines of suffering drawn deep into his face. And the starvation. This was a man who’d been meticulously starved for years, barely kept alive. Whereas in the picture, he looked sunken, this one, looked hollow. Hollow cheeks, hollow eyes. There was fear, surely, but no energy, no fight left. Kakashi had expected the attack sooner and when it happened, he had expected it to last longer, to at least be a decent attempt at his life. Sirius Black had supposedly murdered 13 people and helped kill two more. He had helped in the attempted murder of a baby, yet the mere idea of strangling Kakashi seemed to horrify him so much, that he gave up on the spot.

He was kind, Kakashi thought. Shaggy had been a kind dog. One who craved affection. One who had tried to make him laugh.

This revelation, it certainly explained a lot. The intelligence, the behavior, the malnourishment, the fear of the collar, the fear whenever the discussion turned to the escaped convict. He didn’t quite understand, how he had done it – this transformation was no jutsu he knew and there was no chakra involved. He had shortly glimpsed at it with his Sharingan, as the dog was still asleep and turning into a human… But these technicalities aside, Kakashi now understood a lot better.

However, one thing did not seem to fit… This man didn’t have the energy of a murderer. Kakashi had met many killers in his life. There were differences between a callous sadistic murderer, a meticulous assassin, a coldblooded killer, or a soldier of war. Kakashi had met them all, and yet this man did not look like either.

Shaggy had been gentle! A gentle dog! Would the man be any different?

Kakashi grabbed the wrists where they were twisted into his shirt. He pulled just a little bit, but Sirius let go of him as if he’d been burned.

“I’m sorry,” the man whispered towards the ground.

Kakashi felt rough skin, welts, and old scars at the wrists, where manacles must have dug into his skin for years. He let go of them. The man automatically pulled his hands closer to himself. Then without a word, he frantically started fumbling with the headband he was still wearing around his neck. He was having trouble with the knot. Ultimately, he got it loose. He lifted his eyes with the piece of cloth as he held it for Kakashi to take.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius Black repeated. “I reckon you want it back.” Kakashi took it without a word.

There were no tears in Black’s eyes, but his voice trembled through dry and split lips.

No wonder, Kakashi thought, that a week of dog-portions hadn’t done much to help with the man’s starvation. There was a human body underneath. He’d been trying to feed a tall adult man back to health with the portion sizes for a sick dog.

“How you do it?” he asked curiously.

The man looked up questioningly.

“How you become to dog?” Kakashi specified.

**    

Azkaban. It would be right back to Azkaban for him, he knew. He could flee now. He would, as soon as the boy left for the next muggle-auror ‘police’ station. Kakashi might go back to Aylsham, the town he knew. They had a small station there. Or he’d even follow the signs to Norwich. They weren’t far away now. Kakashi was smart, he’d find a way. And he’d tell them, that Sirius could turn into a dog. Of course, muggles would not believe him, but the kid was smart, and he’d find some way to be heard. All he’d need was the ear of a single witch or wizard and Sirius’ secret and his best bet to reach Harry or Hogwarts undetected was out.

He could run as fast as he wanted, he knew he would not make it. They would find him. They would know what to look for—

Kakashi grabbed him at the wrists. Sirius’s trembling stilled at that. Then at the slightest tuck, Sirius understood. He let go of the shirt. Of course, … The dirty hands of a traitor, a murderer. Who’d want to be touched by that? Had he left stains on the boy’s neck, he wondered? Dirty smears of earth and mud? They’d be invisible against the dark cloth of Kakashi’s mask, but be there, nonetheless.

You’re innocent.

He apologized in a tiny voice, drew his hands in, then he tried to open the knot of the cloth Kakashi had tied around his neck. It had smelled of the boy, he remembered. He’d nuzzled his snout in it before he’d fallen asleep. The reminder, that there was somebody who cared for him – if not for him personally, but for the dog Shaggy. Of course, that too was only temporary. Now, he could not smell the boy’s scent anymore, his human nose unable to detect it, and he also did not have the boy’s trust anymore, anyway.

He managed to open the knot and handed the cloth over. The metal plate bumped uselessly against his arm. Now that it was dark, the engraving he had only shortly glimpsed there earlier – a swirly sign a bit like a leaf – wasn’t visible anymore. He apologized again.

“How you do it?” the boy asked calmly… Calmly, so incredibly calm.

Do what? Sirius wondered. His head sunk a little longer, not understanding the question. Fled from Azkaban? But the boy didn’t know of Azkaban. The murder? How had he done the murder? Or—

“How you become to dog?”

Oh… that. Of course, that would be the most interesting thing to the boy. And how should he explain? Could he even? The boy was a muggle, knew nothing about magic, wasn’t allowed to learn anything about it. The Statute of Secrecy—

Sirius’ shoulders shook in silent laughter. Yeah right! Why not break the Statute of Secrecy? He was a convicted murderer, sentenced to a life locked away in Azkaban already. What else could they do to him? The Dementor’s kiss? At least, he’d have the pleasure to break the law once, before they put him back into his hole for the rest of his life.

“I’m not allowed to tell you,” he laughed, his voice bordering on maniac. “It’s against the Statute,” he chuckled madly, “the Statute of Secrecy. Kakashi.” It was the first time he said the name. It felt foreign on his tongue, but he felt fondness as he said it.

He looked up at the boy only shortly, not wanting to see the condemnation in that single normally so bored eye.

“I’m a wizard, Kakashi. Magic is real.“ He smiled. “Can you believe it? If I had a wand, I’d show you.” He stopped talking then.

“What is the jutsu?” the boy said.

Jutsu? Sirius did not know that word, and it occurred to him, that Kakashi had likely only understood half of what he’d said just now. He’d broken the law – look at that! – and the muggle he’d broken it to didn’t even understand it! Suddenly, the grotesqueness and despair of the situation reached the boiling point. He laughed. A loud and barking laughter, bellowing across the river and over the empty fields behind the rocks. Hopefully, there was nobody in the vicinity to hear— and if? Let them hear! He was doomed regardless. Had not even made it out of Norfolk – pathetic!

The last time he had laughed like that, he remembered, had been the day of his arrest.

“James and Lily! How could you!” The bang, the blood, the smoke, and destruction. For a moment he felt regret, that he had only extended the shield charm over his own body, instead of trying to protect the muggles around them. He hadn’t thought—He hadn’t thought that Peter would blow up the entire street. He’d prepared for a duel! Fool! Fool! Peter, come back here!

But he had not screamed for his former friend to come back, instead, he had laughed, hysterically, maniacally. He’d understood it then. Peter’s plan. The genius of it, and how he had underestimated his own friend. The man he’d called a friend until that day. A setup. A trap Sirius had stepped in like a fool. Like a blind idiot. He’d still laughed as the aurors apprehended him, as they dragged him through the ministry corridors, as he waited in a holding cell for just an hour or two, and then as they apparated him again, straight to the coast. By the time they pushed him on the small dingy boat, in a way that his shackled feet weren’t able to follow, so he’d fall face first on hard wet wood, his laughter had dissolved into choking sobs, but it did not make a difference.

It had taken almost a week for him, to realize, to understand and for it to break through his denial, that James was dead, that Lily was dead, that Harry was an orphan, that Peter had betrayed them and fled, that Remus would be told Sirius was the traitor, that he was now in Azkaban, and that he would remain there. Nobody would come to bring him in for a trial or further investigation or even a single interview. They had dumped him into his cell, and he would remain there for the rest of his life, hated and forgotten, innocent yet guilty of the deaths of his friends.

At least this time. This time, he knew what was happening. This time, he’d know when they’d push him back on that boat… He’d know his fate.

His eyes opened from where he had them scrunched shut, and then—

There was something swirling red and black like he’d never seen before...

He felt warm. Warm, comfortable, painless. The hunger cramps he’d been suffering from for years now, were gone, leaving only a numb emptiness in their wake. He felt good. Even the panicked hysteria was gone. He felt short-cut grass under his body, the grass tickling his skin. He could smell the flowers the way he’d normally only be able to when transformed to Padfoot. There were insects, flies, bees, and butterflies dancing in the air. He heard dogs barking in the distance… There was something unreal about this scene. Spring, he knew. This was a scene of spring. But it was July!

Surreal... Was he dreaming?

But he knew his dreams. His dreams were dark and cold and full of despair. There were no meadows or bees or butterflies in his dreams. Not the warm breeze in his hair, or sunlight on his skin. Just cold stone walls, iron bars, shackles, icy saltwater spray, storms, fear, and death. Whispers of the past, of dead friends, and traitors and the hateful abandonment of the living.

And yet it felt like a dream. What else would it be? This painless, fearless existence, where he felt no hunger, no worries, no despair. Azkaban seemed so far away.

It was spring! How could it be spring?

He had dreams like this before. Rarely, during his happiest days in Hogwarts. Almost, he was inclined to turn around, to look if James was waiting behind him, waving him over to run free, run wild, to shift and tumble around in the flowers. Would Remus be there too?

But when he turned, there was nobody.

Maybe it was better that way. Remus would only have cold condemnation for him and James… Did he blame him too? Had he cursed Sirius, in his last moments, why the fool had fallen for Peter’s spiel? He shook his head.

Don’t think about it!

He should not summon the clouds. Happy dreams, he remembered from the few he had in his childhood, were fragile… Yet, no matter how long he was there, lying on fresh grass, warmed by the sun, no cloud ever came.

Chapter Text

When he blinked his eyes open, the sky was already brightening up again. It wasn’t quite sunrise, but the dark of the night was lifting for a lighter grey. He was confused. What had he just seen? He remembered meadows and butterflies and the sun on his skin. He remembered it as if it had been real, not a dream. It felt more real than the memory of the boy asking how he’d done it, how he’d shifted into a dog…

The boy!

Panicked, Sirius jumped upright, looking around. He was gone! Gone to the authorities! He already had a head start. Hours must’ve passed and he could already be in—

There he was. Leaning with his back and head against the rock, watching Sirius carefully with his single exposed eye. Sirius stared at him, confused. Why was he still there?

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi said in his broken English. He had one hand resting above the bandages over his left eye. “You was laughing. I did…” He shook his head, clearly unable to find the words to explain what he wanted to say.

“You’re still here?” Sirius asked instead of wrecking his mind about what the kid might be apologizing for. “I thought for sure you’d be gone.”

The way the boy’s eye rested on him in this scrutinizing calm manner was unnerving.

He had prayed for that, Sirius remembered. Something itched in Sirius’ guts. All these years, he’d hoped, he’d begged that there might just be one person, who wouldn’t immediately condemn him. Who’d give him a chance to explain? Now this kid… Now that, he had evidently found somebody who didn’t turn tail and run immediately, it was unnerving. Because…

Wasn’t that what he was supposed to do? The natural thing to do. As much as Sirius wished for somebody to give him a chance, wouldn’t the natural thing for any child, for any teenager, for anybody be, to flee? Kakashi should be running, should be alerting the authorities. Yet, he sat there. He didn’t even scoot far away from Sirius. If Sirius wanted to, he could be upon the boy in a matter of seconds. What would a teenager do against that? Even one like Kakashi, who had odd skills, like jumping off trees and running around with feather light steps. If Sirius were armed, the way the muggle papers had claimed… Godric, if he had a wand!

“Are you not afraid, I would kill you?” The question just slipped out.

The boy’s brows furrowed a little. Obviously trying to translate as accurately as possible. Then his single eyebrow lifted, and his eye closed in an odd mockery of the smile he sometimes gave. The one that was well hidden behind the mask and only evident in the curve of his single eye. “Can’t kill me,” he said simply.

Sirius blinked surprised at the certainty in his voice. He was sure it was just a matter of his bad handling of the language. Maybe the boy had seen the hesitation and despair in Sirius’ eyes as he had tried to strangle him. Maybe he thought that Sirius could not bring himself to do it.

“How can you be certain?” Sirius asked anyway, but Kakashi seemed to have no interest to answer his questions anymore.

“Why did you…?” Kakashi asked. His brow furrowed. “Try kill baby.”

Sirius stared at him. The words needed a moment to trickle into his brain and make sense there. “Oh,” he made a small sound, as he drew his knees in, hugging them tight to his chest. “I didn’t,” he said simply, his eyes watching the way the sky slowly brightened up. “I’m innocent.”

He prepared himself for the accusations. For the angry tone, demanding a truth Sirius could not give. For disbelief and denial, anger and hatred. But it didn’t come. Maybe it was different because Kakashi hadn’t known Lily and James, because he didn’t even know Voldemort, knew nothing of their war or their world overall. Just a stranger, who barely knew anything at all, who – now that Sirius thought about it, had probably only understood half of the article he had read just yesterday and had nobody to tell him what to believe yet. Maybe… Yes, maybe this was his first and only chance, to tell his story to somebody who was as close to neutral as anybody could possibly be regarding his person. Maybe this was Sirius’ chance to explain himself.

“This child,” he started, “is my best friend’s son.” He looked over to Kakashi. There was no condemnation in that single eye, Sirius thought, just quiet curiosity and hard concentration, trying to translate Sirius’ words in his head. “You know ‘friend’? My best friend. His child.”

“You wanted… son of friend dead?”

“NO!” Sirius retorted too loudly, a little angry, that Kakashi had not even understood the first part. Angry at himself.

Simple words! Use simple words!

“I didn’t! I’m innocent. That’s what innocent means. I was imprisoned for it… locked up, but I didn’t do it.”

“Innocent.”

A bloody language lesson! Was that what this was for Kakashi? Frustration gnawed at Sirius’ insides.

“Son of friend is alive, then?”

“Yes,” Sirius breathed his anger quickly subsiding. “But my friend died. His wife. ‘Wife’ is… when a man and woman marry and start a family?” he blushed a little feeling stupid.

“Man and woman,” Kakashi repeated, “the woman is ‘wife’?”

Thank Merlin, he was a smart kid. “Yes,” Sirius said. “James, my friend. His name. And Lily. His wife. We were in a war.” War? How would he explain ‘war’? The boy looked at him curiously, as if he was waiting for an explanation. “A conflict, when two groups kill each other for reasons… Like an idea or… land?” he said helplessly. Wars for territory, he assumed were easier to understand for a muggle child, than wars for ideas. He thought he’d failed. It would be – and should be – a pointless endeavor to explain the concept of war to a child in a foreign language.

“I know war,” Kakashi said.

Sirius looked up at him doubtfully. The boy's voice had been serious and certain, yet that might also be explained by a mistranslation. However, when he looked into that single grey eye, he got nothing. There was a sort of distant boredom, nothing for Sirius to deduce whether he knew what he had just said. Nothing for him to latch on to.

Still, it was easiest to take the boy’s words at face value. Even if he didn’t understand completely, it was easier to just run with it. “Voldemort,” somehow, he expected the boy to flinch at the name, but there was no reaction whatsoever – of course not, “he’s a dark wizard… the enemy from the other side.” He saw Kakashi mouth a word behind his mask. ‘Enemy’ he assumed. Still a bloody English class. Sirius shook his head trying not to get distracted. “Voldemort tried to kill James’ family. They were hiding. Hiding…” he had no energy to explain what hiding was. “But a friend betrayed them. Not me… a different friend. I wouldn’t have…” He glanced at Kakashi pleadingly, looking if he saw doubt in the boy’s single eye, but there was only hard concentration.

Kakashi was still translating. Sirius didn’t know if it was the word ‘hiding’ that had thrown him off or ‘betrayed’, but he had no patience left. The boy was unbelievably smart, he knew. It was not his fault he knew so little of the language. He was doing his best learning and doing magnificently, but Sirius didn’t have the energy to explain everything. Telling the story itself left him frazzled, tired, and frustrated. Having to find roundabout ways to describe the most horrific events in his life, using words that ultimately made what he had lived through sound so much more harmless, almost mundane, it was difficult.

Without further explanation, he simply continued. “I hunted the traitor down. When I found him, he killed thirteen mug… people. Thirteen people and he turned…” He shook his head, tired. “He turned into a rat. Like I turn into a dog, he can turn into a rat. He faked his own death. I was thrown into prison for all of it…”

Looking back to Kakashi and his single grey eye, he realized he had lost the boy. Kakashi had only understood half of it and he was still piecing together the words. Helplessly, Sirius hunched in on himself, resting his face on his knees. What was he doing? Telling the story to a boy who could not understand? A boy who wouldn’t even be able to understand, even if he spoke perfect English, because he was a muggle, and would have no understanding of the events that had transpired. And maybe that was for the better. Did Sirius really want to unburden his guilt on some teenager, who was nothing but kind to him?

“Believe me,” he looked to Kakashi one final time, trying to muster all the conviction he had. “I didn’t do it. I would not – I would never betray my friends like that. I would rather die! If I could, I would die to bring them back.”

There was something glowing in Kakashi’s eye. Something real and powerful and frightening. “I know…” the boy whispered, then he clamped his mouth shut, muffling all further sound.

Know…? Know what?

“I’d have killed myself before I would have harmed them,” Sirius enforced, willing Kakashi to believe it.

“I believe you,” Kakashi finally said.

And with that, a stone fell off Sirius’ chest. He didn’t know how, didn’t know why this boy would believe him over the newspaper, why he would listen to him at all, but Sirius had done it. He had convinced somebody to believe in him. He actually had…

Kakashi believed that Sirius was innocent.

It was a freeing thought, a burden lessened off his shoulders. This kind and caring boy…

If I die now, there would be somebody to remember me as something other than a murderer and traitor. A dog maybe… or a starved convict with abysmal patience at teaching somebody the English language. Something else.

“Thank you,” he said and there were tears in his eyes. Quickly he wiped them away, but they kept coming. Embarrassed to cry in front of this child, he turned away, making himself small. With his back to Kakashi. “Thank you…”

**   

Kakashi watched the dog-turned-man apparently-innocent-but-convicted mass murderer. He was crying. Kakashi saw the first tears before Black turned away to wipe at his eyes. It irked Kakashi, jolted a forgotten memory. Obito had always cried… Like that. Subtle tears in the corner of his eyes, that he tried to hide. Even his eye – the one Kakashi now had – had a curious tendency to tear up. Kakashi didn’t have a lot of experience with crying or criers. Just Obito – and, well, Guy cried loud wails whenever he was excited, but that was different. So, like with Obito, he expected Black to square his shoulders and turn back around to come up with some made-up excuse:

Dust in his eye.

Kakashi almost smiled at the memory. Only almost. Kakashi had mocked Obito for his apparent weakness, but ultimately it hadn’t been Obito who was weak. Kakashi had it all wrong. Crybaby or not, Obito had been the better shinobi, ultimately, and then he had wasted his life to safe Kakashi and Kakashi couldn’t even keep his promise…

Now all he had left of Obito was his easily tearing eyeball.

Absentmindedly, he touched the bandages over his eye.

Kakashi let the man be until the quiet sniffles finally subsided. Black straightened back up, turned around, but no excuse came. No ‘dust in his eyes’ just a lopsided smile.

“Sorry,” Black muttered, “I’m normally not that…” He made a vague gesture with his left hand, the other tightly slung around his own knees.

“How did you turn dog?” Kakashi asked what he’d asked hours ago. Back then, Black had fallen into a hysteric state, laughing uncontrollably. Kakashi somewhat regretted having used the Sharingan to put Black into a genjutsu. He was reasonably sure, that this nation was far away from his home. So far, in fact, they saw kunai as a relic from the history of a far-away foreign country. Still, that didn’t mean they had no knowledge whatsoever. If the people of this country knew about the Sharingan and its powers, revealing it thoughtlessly might be to his disadvantage. Kakashi had made quite a name for himself in the last months of the war. It was rare for him now, to not be recognized. Most opponents he faced had a general idea of his skillset, even before he ever met them. It was a rare luxury to be incognito, so he shouldn’t throw that away and reveal his techniques easily.

He didn’t think Black would use it against him, but even so, he should be more secretive about where he came from and who he was. At least until he knew how he got here in the first place. He had decided that he would hide his identity when he’d first arrived here and finding out that this was not a country he knew, wasn’t reason enough to throw all caution into the wind.

He hadn’t wanted to use the Sharingan. Black’s behavior had moved him to do it. There’d been something rough and raw in the way the barking laughter had ripped out of him. Something beyond desperate. Kakashi already had him under the genjutsu before he himself even realized what he was doing.

“You didn’t answer,” Kakashi added when Black needed a moment to get his still wobbly voice under control.

“I’m a wizard.”

Kakashi had no idea, what that was.

Sheepishly, Black scratched his head. “I wished I had my wand to show you.” He stopped barked a short and dry laugh. “A wand would make everything so much easier.”

Kakashi had never heard the word ‘wand’ before, other than that one time before Black’s breakdown earlier. Only ‘wonder’ and ‘wandering’. He remembered a guy asking him what he was doing ‘wandering around alone’. But that didn’t fit in this context.

Finally giving up his head-scratching, Black shifted right in front of Kakashi for Kakashi to see. Subtly, Kakashi lifted his bandages a little, peering past them at the transformation with his Sharingan. The information his Sharingan sent him was a confusing mess. He had already seen this transformation once when Black shifted to a man in his sleep. But even seeing it a second time, didn’t answer any of his questions.

There was a sort of energy, Black was using for his technique, but it wasn’t chakra, and Kakashi’s Sharingan was unable to clearly detect it. It was definitely there, though, flickered around the man like a thin shapeless and colorless haze. It had nothing of the tightly concentrated coils of chakra in a shinobi. Unlike with the Byakugan, with the Sharingan, he couldn’t see the exact path of the chakra within the chakra network, but he could normally still see it curling and burning inside and around the body, especially when a shinobi used their chakra for a jutsu. There was nothing of the like here.

Just this hint of a mist that vaguely flickered as Black transformed into a dog and back again within seconds. It was nothing, Kakashi had ever seen, no genjutsu, he was sure, but no ninjutsu either, or his Sharingan would be able to grasp and understand it. Even if it was a Kekkei Genkai his Sharingan should at least be able to detect something.

He pulled the bandage down again, as Black transformed back, not giving the man an opportunity to really see the Sharingan eye. Nature chakra, he guessed in an attempt to find something he could compare this strange technique to. He’d only seen Minato use sage mode twice, and that was similar in that Kakashi couldn’t see the chakra as it was gathered, but it would form a sort of cloudy mist around Minato-sensei, as he would absorb it all in. Even with nature chakra though as soon as it was released to form jutsu – although the Sharingan couldn’t copy it without him learning to use sage mode first – his Sharingan would be able to at least detect the jutsu.

That was troublesome, he thought somewhat annoyed. If these people knew some form of jutsu he didn’t understand that would make things more difficult. For a brief moment, he considered if everybody in this country could use this odd energy, or if at least all the villages were protected by some form of guardian, army, or patron to protect them from invasion. Was that the reason they seemed so relaxed and at peace? Because they trusted these ‘wizards’ to keep them safe? He’d walked through these villages and towns for several days now and had never seen a hint of wizardry before. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t all use it. He himself had hidden his jutsu as well.

In any case, this transformation was solid. Even the scent changed, although Black retained a distinctly human note in dog form, and still smelled a bit of dog in human form. In fact, in human form, he smelled exactly like a civilian from the Inuzuka clan who hadn’t showered in a while.

“What else can you do?” he asked. “With ‘wand’.” He tested the word on his tongue.

Black smirked a little at the question. It looked almost mischievous. “Almost anything,” he answered without pause. No concern whatsoever to share his skills with a virtual stranger. “I can make things fly or transform objects and people or animals. It helps with cooking, too, and all sorts of menial chores.” He gave a shrug. “Some wizards can even fly with just their wands, though not me.”

“Why not you?” Kakashi wondered if it was a family trait. When Black said ‘almost anything’ did he mean that there were no such things as bloodlines? Could every wizard do all this – turn into animals and such things.

“Never learned it,” Black admitted. He grimaced. “It’s not on the Hogwarts curriculum, and after that… I didn’t exactly have time to learn new tricks.” His face and mood dropped. “The ministry broke my wand.”

Kakashi’s ears were ringing, trying to keep up. What was a Hogwarts, or a curriculum? Or ‘the ministry’?

Black seemed to understand his confusion. “Hogwarts is a school for magic.” And with that, he started explaining. Black said a lot about a lot of things, and Kakashi had trouble keeping up with translating and making sense of things. He was used from years as a shinobi, to be given information only once and be expected to remember it, yet now he found himself struggling. The added challenge of translating, and learning new words as they went along, while listening and remembering what Black had to say about a world that was completely foreign to Kakashi was almost too much for him.

It’s hard, he thought. Challenging.

He almost snickered as he had the sudden idea to propose ‘learning a foreign language’ the next time, Guy asked for a challenge. They both might even take something out of this, and he’d have Guy out of his hair for at least a few weeks. He didn’t think Guy would be too happy about it, though. Then again, the other boy just craved a challenge and had never cared much about the kinds of challenge Kakashi set. That was – of course – assuming the boy forgave him about leaving him hanging after propositioning the race.

“The current minister is Cornelius Fudge,” Black ended his explanation, his face drawn and tired from the effort of spoon-feeding the condensed knowledge of the magical world into a boy who barely spoke any English at all. He scowled, as he mentioned the name.

Kakashi’s eyebrows rose curiously at the way Black angrily spat out the name.

“I don’t like him,” Black admitted, “don’t like any of them. They just…” But he didn’t finish the sentence.

If he indeed was innocent, Kakashi assumed it was reasonable to dislike the people who put him into prison and let him rot in his cell for years.

“He even…,” Black started again, then his eyes widened, his mouth opened a little in surprise, and he quickly searched through the rags he wore for clothes. The faded out striped pattern made it obvious that those were once his prison garbs, though they didn’t deserve that name now. With trembling hands, Black fished a wrinkled and ripped paper from between his haggard hips and a tightly bound waistband. Kakashi got a short glimpse of a tattoo, as the cloth moved up and revealed part of his sunken in belly. He had several more tattoos on his body, Kakashi had already seen. There was a big one where the shirt had ripped wide open around the collar, showing the faded black symbols over pale white skin and starkly prominent ribs.

“Fudge gave me this,” Black finally finished his sentence, unfolding what Kakashi now saw was a page from a newspaper. His hands were shaking as he turned it so Kakashi could see the big picture prominent in the top center of the page. It was of nine people. Two middle-aged adults, seven younger adults surrounding them. There were certain shared similarities in their facial features, and the way they smiled, that made Kakashi assume they were one big family. The youngest couldn’t be much younger than him, the oldest looked almost Minato-sensei’s age. Seven children all making it to adulthood was almost unheard of to Kakashi.

Yet, it wasn’t the people directly that drew Kakashi’s attention. It was the newspaper itself. The picture was moving. The group was waving and smiling into the camera, some of the boys brotherly pushing and shoving each other. The letters below on the paper were just as strange. Some of the text was written in paragraphs that chaotically crawled all over the page. Some parts of the newspaper even seemed to shift between different articles, alternating between, what Kakashi assumed where ads or maybe letters from readers. He could barely read any of it at all, as it used a horribly squiggly font similar to the one, he had seen at the antiques shop the day before.

Fascinated, Kakashi took the newspaper to inspect it more thoroughly. Yet, when he grabbed it Black wouldn’t let go. His hand was still shaking, Kakashi noted.

“Ah…,” Black let go of the paper. It looked like it took a lot of effort to do so. Empty-handed, he balled his shaking hand into a fist at his side. “Sorry.”

Kakashi glanced at him, then turned back to the newspaper. He inspected the way the family moved on the picture for a while before he finally pulled his bandages up just enough that he could peer through it with the Sharingan. Nothing… He saw nothing, not even the hazy mist of some form of energy that he had seen when Black shifted to a dog. “That’s magic?” he asked in wonder, straightening his bandage back out again. He turned the paper around. There was another picture of two people flying on broomsticks around a golden metal pole. He shook his head, utterly stunned by the very concept of these odd moving pictures. – And people flying on broomsticks?

Then he handed the paper back to Black, thinking, it might be important to him, if it was the only thing, he took with him as he broke out of prison – he didn’t even wear shoes. Never mind the way he had only let go of the paper with conscious effort.

Black took it, but his eyes were on Kakashi. He frowned worriedly. “Is something wrong with your eye?” He looked right at the bandages. “When you ate, I saw your scar, so I thought, you might have lost it in an accident or something,” he guessed. Kakashi remembered that indeed he had eaten and pulled down his mask in front of the dog. “But you keep fumbling with the bandages.”

Kakashi blinked in surprise at the worried tone. He was used to seeing a lot of people covering their scars or certain features about them in bandages. Sometimes because they were used to it, sometimes for fashion, most of the times, because the scars would either reveal something about them, they didn’t want to share, or because  - like him – they hid a special skill from sight. In his case, the Sharingan also drained his chakra when he didn’t cover it. In any case, it was very common to see people wear bandages where he came from. It was also very common to see people injured.

Yet, he didn’t remember the last time, anybody asked about his eye or even any of his actual injuries. Minato-sensei of course, showed some concern – though it had always annoyed Kakashi, because it just proved that Minato had still seen him as a child. But for the most part, at least in ANBU, it was assumed, that if a wound was bandaged up, and the wounded wasn’t already bleeding through the cloth, then he was probably fine, and there were bigger concerns.

“Mah,” made Kakashi both surprised that Black would ask about it, and also a little annoyed, as he felt – like with Minato – that Black was only worried because he saw him as a child still. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing. I lost the eye.” It was a convenient half-truth, and as Black had already guessed as much, he likely wouldn’t question it. “It sometimes itches.”

It had been itching all the time since Rin and then nonstop after Minato-sensei’s death. It had stopped now.

Sirius looked at him for a moment, seeming doubtful, but then with a sort-of shrug, he looked back down to the picture. “He’s in Hogwarts,” he mumbled to himself.

Hogwarts, the school… Kakashi had no idea, who he was talking about. He assumed the people on the picture would be his family – though there was no physical resemblance – or maybe one of them was the friends he’d talked about. In any case, they must be important to Black. Kakashi’s own most prized possession was a photo as well. The picture of his team – Team Minato – from when they were first formed. He was the last person on that picture still alive. Kakashi hadn’t even dared look at it since sensei’s death.

“Who is in Hogwarts?” he asked curiously. Normally, he would not pry like that, but Black seemed willing, if not eager to share information. Kakashi himself would rather die before he would reveal so much information about his home country and his people. Yet, Black seemed to share everything with an odd glee in his eyes.

They were alive now, not hollow anymore. In his eyes Kakashi could read an overwhelming wave of emotion. It was so strong it was hard to read. An odd mix of everything positive and negative under the sun. Kakashi even thought, he saw mischief there.

Now, however, as he had asked the question, Black pressed his lips tight. He seemed reluctant to answer, but then, he let the breath whistle from his lungs. “The rat,” he said as if that would explain everything.

Kakashi peered at the picture in Black’s hands that was upside down for him now. This time, he ignored the smiling family and the pyramids in the background. Instead he searched the picture until he found the rat perched on the shoulder of one of the boys. The rat… It had to be the friend Black talked bout. The traitor who had put Black into prison.

“You are hunting?” he asked frowning in concentration. The rat looked like any other rat. It was missing a tiny claw, Kakashi saw, but on the picture, it didn’t look threatening or fake. Yet, that didn’t have to mean anything. After all, Kakashi had fallen for this dog-human-transformation for an entire week.

Black nodded, finally folding the picture back up and hiding it in his clothes. He wasn’t even wearing shoes, Kakashi thought not for the first time. “I’ll kill him for what he did. Harry, James’ son, is in Hogwarts too. He’s in danger.” He shook his head. Sadness was shining in his eyes. Whatever mischief and glee there had been earlier, it was gone now, but the dullness wasn’t back either. Instead Kakashi saw fierce determination. Kakashi felt his lips go dry. He swallowed.

There was something unnerving even for Kakashi at the image of two former friends destroying each other’s lives like that, hunting each other to death, hating each other. A friend killing another. But, of course, if one had betrayed their best friend… Was there a word for that?

Friend killer.

If Obito knew what you did. He’d hunt you down too. He should! He should hate you for it, curse and condemn you. You promised! You promised! And then you killed her with your own hand. You’re the worst scum. Doesn’t matter where you are. On the battlefield, in Konoha, among ANBU or in this strange country. The friend killer, the one who’d abandon their own comrades, the one who’d failed their own friends like that… That’s the worst scum. The lowest of the low.

Kakashi’s hands were shaking. He was glad that he’d already given the newspaper back to Black or it wouldn’t be that easy to hide. That way he quickly shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to calm down, trying not to think about it. At least that way, he couldn’t see the blood on his hands.

“He’s my godson,” Black whispered after a while. “Harry…I should’ve taken care of him after his parents died.”

Kakashi had no idea what a ‘godson’ was. And the sentence was too long and complicated for him to follow. Yet still, somehow, he understood the meaning regardless. This man, who’d been given no chance to ever see this Harry-child again, through no fault of his own, felt guilty for having abandoned him, felt responsible for protecting him now…

And yet, Kakashi… When the Hokage told him, he couldn’t take care of Naruto, Kakashi had almost been relieved. He’d barely fought it. He should have fought harder!

Naruto should’ve been his brother, instead Kakashi had left him for the village to take care of. He imagined the child. He didn’t even know what he looked like. Had he Kushina’s fiery red hair, or Minato’s bright yellow? Grey eyes or blue? Maybe a mix. Minato’s hair, but Kushina’s eyes? If he had Kushina’s temper the village would have their hands full.

Kakashi shook his head.

Stay away from him. You would ruin that child. Good thing you’re apparently at least a continent away from him.

“I help,” he heard himself say. “Help find rat.”

And when he found him, he didn’t know what he would do. Would he kill the rat himself, or would he leave him for Black to do the deed? Or would he ask the rat how he lived with it? How he could live with the blood of his friends on his hands? Because Kakashi needed to know.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t right, Sirius knew. There was a part of him, that was glad that Kakashi had offered his help. The task seemed less daunting, with another person around. Hogwarts and Surrey didn’t seem quite so far away now. But it wasn’t right, and he knew that. Kakashi was just a teenager. Sirius shouldn’t drag him into this mess. What would James and Lily say, if they knew he set a child Harry’s own age on a path to revenge that had nothing to do with the child itself?

Already, for Sirius himself, having decided that he would kill Peter was a big step. A daunting task. He’d never killed anybody, nor had he thought he ever would. Yet, dragging a teenager into this mess… That was something else entirely.

Still, he hadn’t argued very hard against it, when Kakashi offered his help. He didn’t have the energy for it. Part of him was so glad that he wouldn’t have to do this alone, that he couldn’t even muster a decent argument against it. Although there were a hundred arguments he could come up with in his head, none of them quite passed his lips. He felt like a coward for it. He couldn’t even really muster the decency to regret it. Sirius had always been a sociable person. The company was nice.

So, they continued their journey together, although Sirius knew they shouldn’t.

In the evening Kakashi found them a nice resting place in a small stretch of woods. The land was flat here, tall grass was hiding the dog away as soon as Sirius crouched down. He rather liked it. There was a river close by.

“Fishing,” Kakashi said, leaving Sirius where he was as he walked up to the shore. Curiously Sirius followed him. He hadn’t seen the boy fish yet. He’d seen him hunt, which was always exciting to watch. He used small knives of that, something Sirius had never seen before. However, when he followed Kakashi, his steps seemed odd. Something in his scent made Sirius fur bristle. As if the boy was on edge. There was nothing obvious on his face or in his posture, though, just his scent and the way his steps weren’t quite so feather-light anymore. Was he worried?

He said he believed Sirius being innocent. But maybe that was a lie? Told out of fear for his life if he didn’t play along. Sirius had even grabbed his neck in a moment of despair… it wouldn’t be a big surprise to find out the boy was still afraid of him. And why wouldn’t he be? All he had was the word of a madman.

Looking left and right and still hidden in high grass and the reeds along the shore, he turned back to his human form.

“Are you afraid?” he asked quietly watching the boy who now stood in knee-high water.

Kakashi didn’t even look at him, focusing on the water. “Afraid?”

“Worried,” Sirius used a different word.

“I know ‘afraid’. Why you think?”

“Why do you think so?” Sirius corrected automatically. Kakashi looked back at him. For a moment Sirius thought his corrections weren’t wanted, but then Kakashi’s eye closed in his typical smile.

“Why do you think so?” Kakashi repeated after him.

“Your scent. I’m not sure,” Sirius admitted and pointed at his nose in case Kakashi didn’t know the word yet. “I have a keen nose.”

“Dog’s nose,” Kakashi said and there was a sort of amusement in his voice. Sirius couldn’t quite put his finger on it. As if there was some inside joke, he didn’t pick up on.

Sirius nodded. “Right. You smell on edge.”

“I smell worried?”

Sirius frowned a little. He wasn’t certain if the boy asked, because he didn’t know the meaning of ‘on edge’ or if this was a ploy to avoid the question. Every question Sirius asked, he got a question in return. “Ever since we passed Norwich,” Sirius specified. He wasn’t certain if that was when it had started. It had been the first time he had noticed, however. They hadn’t gone into the city. Sirius felt uncomfortable and unsafe in settlements. The bigger the worse was his anxiety, the fear of being found out. Still, the day before, Sirius had made it a point to lead Kakashi to the villages and towns in the surrounding area. It was the only way for the boy to learn English, never mind find his parents or travel companions. That was a different topic he should ask about.

Finally, Kakashi relented. “How many people are there in Norwich?”

The question was odd, besides the point, and came out of nowhere to Sirius, still, he tried to answer. He had never bothered to learn these things. “100 000 maybe,” he shrugged. He could only guess. They had only seen the outskirts and suburbs around the city, and he had never actually been there even before his imprisonment. Never mind that he didn’t bother learning the populations for muggle cities. “I don’t really know.”

Kakashi looked at him oddly, as if he was supposed to know. Sirius bristled a little at that. He’d been twelve years in Azkaban. Why would he know these things?

Thoughtfully, Kakashi looked back into the river. He made a few steps. Inward, until the water reached up to his hips. “Be careful,” Sirius warned half-heartedly. The water wasn’t deep, but he’d still rather not have the boy slip and fall in.

Kakashi didn’t react to his warning. “That’s much people.” His voice was impossible to read.

“Many,” Sirius stopped thinking. “Or a lot of people.” Then he shrugged once more. “I guess.”

“It’s the capital?”

Stunned, Sirius stared at the boy. The capital? He snorted. Very funny. “No, London is much bigger. I don’t even know… Five million?”

He heard a splash of water as the boy whirled around to stare at him. “Million?” he repeated his single eye wide open in surprise. He’d never seen Kakashi react so strongly to anything. “How?”

Sirius barked in laughter. “You must come from a tiny place,” he chuckled. Which begged the question… How did the kid not know that London was the capital? Being stuck alone in a country he did not speak the language of was one thing, not knowing where he was, was also curious… but he didn’t even know that London was the capital of Great Britain? Surely a smart boy like him would know that. Especially when he went to England for vacation.

Which was what Sirius assumed this was. The boy must have traveled here for vacation and then gotten lost, right? That was the only thing that made sense. Only it didn’t make sense at all, because wouldn’t the parents be searching for him, wouldn’t he be searching for them as well? Or his friends or travel group? What business would he have offering his help to Sirius instead of trying to get to the first muggle auror office, to get back home? Never mind that, from what he knew, there were some big cities in Japan. London was huge, but at least Norwich shouldn’t be that impressive to a fourteen-year-old Japanese kid. Even if he came from a smaller town.

“How did you get here?” Sirius asked finally. He should have asked this sooner.

Kakashi eyed him warily, then he turned back to the water and cursed quietly in his own language. The way he had splashed around earlier, all the fish had likely fled. (Not that Sirius knew how he intended to catch them this way. He didn’t have a net nor a fishing rod.) “I got lost.”

Sirius laughed. “Lost?” he repeated not believing it for a second. “What did you run away from your hotel? What about your parents?”

Kakashi didn’t answer. He stood still searching the water for fish.

“Your friends then, or a travel group? How did you get separated?” When the boy didn’t answer, Sirius growled in frustration. “Won’t they be worried?”

Kakashi peered at him. Behind the mask, Sirius couldn’t see his face, but the way the skin around the single eye tightened, he seemed to grimace. “I’m alone. But right, I should send where I am.”

Frustrated, Sirius let out a sigh. This didn’t answer any of his questions. How would the boy contact his family, if clearly, he had no means of communication? Never mind why hadn’t he already. At least, it was something, though. “Good,” he nodded. “Do you want to go back to Norwich for that? You could use a phone booth there.” Kakashi obviously had no idea what a phone booth was, and Sirius didn’t know how to explain it, as he barely understood the concept himself.

Kakashi shook his head. “No, I—” And then it all went very quick. His mouth snapped shut, his hand cut into the water, there was a surprisingly quiet splash, and then a fish came flying towards Sirius. “Don’t let it jump in water,” Kakashi instructed, as Sirius awkwardly struggled to catch the small trout.

“What just—” Sirius cried out, but the question stuck in his throat as he helplessly tried to get a hold of the fish. “How did you do that?”

“Not back to Norwich,” Kakashi said instead of answering Sirius’ most recent question. He still stood in the river. He stopped moving again, lurking for the next victim fish. “I do tonight, don’t worry.”

How should he not worry, Sirius thought a little miffed. There was a fourteen-year-old boy virtually alone and although Sirius appreciated the company, he knew Kakashi shouldn’t be here with him. “When we’re in London, you can get help,” he suggested. “I’m sure they’ll have some means to contact your home country.”

At that moment, Kakashi’s hand splashed into the water again, and another fish came flying for Sirius. This time, he was better prepared. Instantly, he shifted into the dog, swiped at the flying trout with his paw, and then bit down on its head to kill it. When he turned back, he moved his jaw testily. There was still a taste of raw fish between his molars. Kakashi looked at him curiously.

“Can all make magic,” Kakashi asked after a while. “Five million in London?”

The sudden shift in topic back to the population size of London was jarring for Sirius. He was now almost certain that Kakashi for whatever reason didn’t want to share any information with him. “No,” Sirius answered anyway. He had no issue sharing what he knew. In fact, he quite enjoyed telling this boy everything he wanted to know about the magical world. If only to tell the magical world that they could go bite Sirius. All-day, he had quite the fun, imagining Fudge’s purple angry face, knowing what Sirius had done just to spite him. Of course, he would never see it. He hoped not to at least – it would mean back to Azkaban for him. “We’re not many. I don’t know… maybe 100 000 in total. Probably even less. Most are muggles.”

“Muggles?”

“People without magic. Like you. You’re a muggle. You’re not supposed to even know of the magical world. Most don’t know anything about it.”

Kakashi followed his words with a very focused and concentrated eye. Now that he finally had his full attention, Sirius quickly added. “How did you find me a week ago?”

Kakashi’s brows furrowed a little. “You on coast. Hungry.”

“Yes,” Sirius agreed not needing a reminder of that. He was still hungry, starved, and easily exhausted. But he didn’t feel that same gaping hole in his stomach anymore. “But how did you get there.”

“Foot.”

“On foot?” Sirius laughed. The boy had to be joking. He was intelligent enough to know that was not, what Sirius had asked. “Okay, you walked, from where?”

Kakashi peered at him for a long time. Then his eyes traveled down to the water. For a moment Sirius thought, he was trying to find the words to come up with an answer, then he jumped in surprise when Kakashi’s hand slashed into the water again. He prepared for the fish to come flying, but nothing came. Instead, Kakashi waded back to the shore. He shook his legs out. Trousers and sandals were sodding wet and some of the water even sprayed on Sirius. The boy held the third trout – the biggest one yet – in his left hand.

“How did you do that?” Sirius asked, seriously impressed. It had been one thing when he saw the boy throw a knife at a duck to kill it, earlier this week. The bird hadn’t been expecting anything and it was a slow bird anyway. Successfully catching three fish with his bare hands though… It ought to be impossible. He’d quite naturally assumed that the boy was a muggle, however, there was something magical about him. “You have to teach me one day. It seems nifty.”

Kakashi eyed him wearily, then he gave a half-hearted smile.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “Don’t know how got to you.” He shook his head. “Now I’m home, then in forest.”

Stunned, Sirius couldn’t help but stare at this explanation. “You just woke up here?”

“Yes, woke up in forest.”

Sirius shook his head. “But that makes no sense. Were you kidnapped?” But even that wouldn’t explain how he couldn’t remember anything about the journey. It must have been hours from Japan to somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Norfolk. They must have poisoned him or given him some sleeping drought. Maybe erased his memories? But why just leave the boy alone in some forest? None of this made sense. “Abducted,” he used a synonym when the boy didn’t understand. “Somebody took you against your will.”

“Don’t know,” Kakashi said with a half-hearted shrug that was unnerving. “Don’t think…kidnapped.” He had trouble using the word right, Sirius registered absentmindedly. Sirius’ thoughts however were still stuck on the half-hearted shrug. How could a kid be so casual about suddenly waking up in a foreign country? He should be panicked, crying, begging for his parents to find him. But he seemed just fine.

“Then what? You just teleported?” He meant it as a joke, but as his words were out, he suddenly realized, that might be the only option. Clearly, one could not just travel from Japan to Cromer, Norfolk in such a short time, that they wouldn’t even remember it. Clearly, if the boy had been kidnapped, he’d know, and his kidnappers wouldn’t just throw him out in some forest. Never mind there would likely be traces on his body, of some form of abuse, but the way he walked and smelled, he was completely uninjured. How can you be kidnapped and not get a bruise at all? Clearly, he also wasn’t just on vacation with his family, or they would have already started a search party for the kid. So, what other option was there than that some form of magic was involved.

Maybe he had gotten into contact with a magician or a magical artifact that sent him here by pure coincidence. Maybe, he had indeed been captured and taken away by a kidnapper who was a wizard and healed all his injuries as well as made him forget… or… well? Was he too old for a sudden burst of accidental magic? Sirius was certain, the boy had never heard of the magical world, but Sirius also didn’t know how they did it in Japan. Maybe there was a small community of wizards who practiced their magic differently? Or maybe Kakashi was a muggle-born wizard who had fallen through the cracks and nobody ever told him, what he was? A spontaneous apparition as a form of accidental magic was not uncommon, although jumping all the way from Japan to England seemed a little much. Still, Sirius assumed, at least it was possible. It even seemed the most likely possibility so far. It wasn’t unheard of, that a wizard child only had their first bouts of accidental magic in their preteens just before going to Hogwarts. There were also cases, where subtle forms of magic went completely under the radar. Sometimes things vanishing could easily be confused with things just getting lost in a chaotic child’s bedroom. Was it possible, that nobody had ever known or told the boy about his magical talent? He didn’t know much about Japan’s magical society, but he guessed it could be possible.

Certainly, assuming that a bout of accidental magic had brought a kid who didn’t know they were a wizard to a different continent was unlikely but… it seemed at least more likely than a child falling asleep at home, then being somehow kidnapped, dragged off to England dumped in some forest and then left there within a short span of time, never waking up in between nor knowing what had happened.

“What is the last thing you remember?” Sirius asked still skeptical.

Kakashi looked up into the darkening sky. “I see—” He cut himself off. “I have bad memory. Headache and— room was spinning and… that’s all.”

Spinning… It had to have been an apparition. “When it happened,” Sirius continued to make sure, “do you remember what you were thinking? Were you afraid? Did you want to get away from there?”

Kakashi leveled a glare at him as if Sirius hadn’t listened to him earlier. “I had bad memory.”

Sirius nodded. If something triggered a traumatic memory, he likely felt fear, he must have wished himself away… That could cause a spontaneous apparition, Sirius knew. He remembered a few of them himself, from when he was a child. At eight, when his mother had been angry and yelling at him when she’d raise her hand… sometimes he’d just apparate then. It wasn’t in his control, and he never got very far. Most of the time, he just landed in their garden, but one time he landed in Victoria Park and two muggles saw him. It caused a minor incident. He remembered that when it happened his mother had been both furious and somewhat proud. There was a belief going around in magical families that the younger a child was, the more often it accidentally used magic and the more impressive the individual bouts of magic were, the more powerful the wizard would get. So, her son teleporting himself to Victoria Park was something Walburga Black had been quite proud of, even if she’d been angry that he’d escaped her anger like that.

Still in thought, Sirius followed after Kakashi back to their camp. He was distracted when Kakashi started collecting dry leaves and brushwood for a fire. Sirius had seen him light a fire several times now, but to this day, he hadn’t figured out how Kakashi did it. There was no match, nothing to cause a spark nor even an ordinary muggle lighter in Kakashi’s hand. So far as a dog he hadn’t paid much attention to it – mostly because Kakashi often got the fire going before Sirius even settled down for the night or woke up in the morning. Now, he watched more closely.

Having already come to the conclusion, that Kakashi might be or at least connected to a foreign culture of magicians, Sirius watched for any detail that might give away a charm or hex Kakashi was using. Anything that could give away that he was using magic.

Kakashi lowered his hands to push the brushwood together, then he hesitated, and looked up at Sirius. With measured movements, his hand dug into the small pouch he was wearing at the belt. To Sirius’s surprise, Kakashi pulled out a small knife and a stone.

A quick movement, the metallic clank of metal on stone, and a flurry of orange sparks lit up the dry leaves. The leaf immediately caught fire, the flames quickly spreading to the brushwood. It was done in a second as if it was the easiest thing in the world. And before Sirius had even caught up to the fact, that this was different, Kakashi was already putting slightly thicker branches of wood over the fire. But it was different.

“You normally do that differently,” Sirius noted. He was certain, Kakashi hadn’t used this rock-knife method before.

“What you mean?” Kakashi asked blinking up at him in innocent confusion.

“The fire. You didn’t use the knife and rock yesterday.”

But already, as he said that, Sirius knew he wouldn’t get an explanation. Kakashi simply smiled at him, as if he didn’t know what Sirius was talking about. What was with this boy and his many secrets?

“Where did you learn that?” Sirius asked instead of fishing for more information regarding Kakashi’s other secret fire-making methods. “And who taught you to catch fish like that?”

Kakashi took a moment to answer in which he started preparing all three trouts with some herbs he distractedly pulled from the bushes around them. Sirius who hadn’t cooked nor even entered a kitchen in over a decade didn’t know what he was doing.

“Tradition,” Kakashi answered with a single word.

Sirius gaped at him. “You just do it like that where you come from?” Surely that couldn’t be. It seemed more like a very special talent. Sirius couldn’t imagine that there would be a culture out there where catching fish barehanded was just considered normal. But he realized he wouldn’t get a better answer out of the boy. “What is that?” he nodded at the herbs.

Kakashi gave him two small twigs of the fresh green herbs he had plugged. Sirius them up to his nose. In his human form, he had to try hard to recognize the scents at all. Even still he couldn’t be sure, but he tried to remember whatever knowledge had remained from his UTZ-level herbology and potions classes. “This is rosemary,” he told Kakashi giving one of the twigs back. With the other one, he wasn’t quite as sure. “And thyme, I think. How do you call it?”

“Rosemary and Thyme,” Kakashi repeated. Then he gave a shrug. “Don’t know them home.”

“You don’t have them at home? How do you know to cook with them?” And if Sirius knew anything about cooking, at least both herbs were edible, but how would Kakashi know.

He watched the boy silently mouth the words, then he gave a shrug and shook his head.

“You’re experimenting,” Sirius guessed. “Just trying things out and looking what works.”

“I… I am experimenting.”

Sirius noted a special emphasis on the ‘am’. These small words he already knew, Kakashi often forgot. He was learning quickly.

“Do you like cooking?” But he didn’t get a definite answer. “The fish is called trout. Do you have trout in Japan?”

“Masu,” the boy said with a nod. Curiously, Sirius watched how the boy hung the fish head up on a branch using a thin wire he produced from his pouch. He used a thin needle – also from his pouch – to thread the wire through the trouts' jaws. Only when he precariously balanced the fish a bit over the fire, not directly into the flames, did Sirius realize that he wanted to smoke the fish.

“Masu? Is that what you call trout?”

Kakashi nodded.

After that, they continued their conversation about benign topics so Kakashi could practice his language a bit better. Sirius corrected him every now and then, but a lot of time he just let Kakashi’s mistakes pass. Soon their dinner started smelling really good. It was the first time Kakashi went through that much effort cooking. While he had prepared food for himself and Sirius before, he had fed bland cooked fish and meat and random vegetables to the dog, and not bothered to cook anything more elaborate for just himself. It seemed now, with another person eating with him, he went through extra afford. Sirius felt comfortably warm in his chest. The fact that this boy didn’t just feed him… but even cook for him!

And it really smelled good. Sirius was admittedly not a judge for gourmet food anymore. His palate was used to the blandest food imaginable. Everything that tasted of something at all was heavenly to him. But this… it really smelled great and he was sure that wasn’t just from his palate not being used to good foods anymore.

“It smells good,” Sirius said his mouth already watering.

Kakashi looked up at him, gave him a short smile, and then took the trout from the fire. With the tips of his fingers and quick movements, he freed the fish from the wire. It was hot and steaming and he never touched it longer than necessary.

They had no plates and Kakashi could only offer one of his knives – apparently, he had multiple of those to help Sirius eat. They ate off two relatively big stones they had found and Sirius looked at Kakashi to copy the way he deboned and skinned his trout. It was a bit of a mess, but it was the best fish Sirius had ever eaten.

Sirius felt oddly humbled thinking it was the first meal he had eaten in years that was actually prepared for him with care – prepared for a human, not a dog or the monster they saw him at in Azkaban. He didn’t know who prepared the food in Azkaban – probably some house-elf – but whoever it was clearly didn't consider the prisoners human.

He ate slowly, savoring the taste and chewing on every bit of rosemary trying to get the most intense taste out of it. Silently he choked several sobs when his feelings overwhelmed him. The mere idea of good food… It had him close to tears. But he didn’t want to fall apart in front of Kakashi. The boy had enough on his plate – being stranded in a foreign country – without having his hands full with a wailing convict on the run…

Which brought him back to his initial thought. Sirius solemnly stared down at the second trout Kakashi had offered him. (He couldn’t eat it. His human stomach was much less agreeable than Padfoot’s had been.) Kakashi shouldn’t be here.

He shouldn’t follow Sirius around through this foreign country trying to get revenge for something that didn’t concern him. He shouldn’t have to feed and nurse Sirius back to health. He shouldn’t be dragged into this whole business and Sirius shouldn’t use him the way he did. He was awfully and uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was leeching off this boy. As nice as the thought was, as much as he relished in the idea that he didn’t have to go this path alone… He had to. He knew it. Kakashi’s path shouldn’t lead him to Hogwarts to help kill a man he didn’t even know, it should lead back to his home, to his parents, his friends who were surely waiting for him. But that didn’t seem to be of any concern to Kakashi.

He looked up at Kakashi contemplating. Surprised he realized, that Kakashi had already eaten his trout – which by itself wasn’t that surprising – but even more so: Sirius hadn’t seen him eat. While all the days before, Kakashi had comfortably settled down, pulled down his mask and eaten slowly, savoring every bite, now – despite this being the first time he went to the effort of actually preparing something nice and seasoned – he must have gulped the whole fish down in a matter of seconds without Sirius even noticing.

“You already ate?” Sirius asked surprised.

What caused this change? Sirius’ grey eyes rested on the dark cloth mask over Kakashi’s face. He didn’t know why the boy was wearing it, but he had thought it might just be an odd fashion statement. Or maybe to hide the scar on his cheek. “Why the mask?” he asked.

“Always have it,” Kakashi answered with a shrug.

“You always had it?” it was again such a non-answer… It made Sirius think…

This odd sense of nervousness he had detected earlier, the fact that he didn’t give him any information whatsoever nor answered any of his questions, and now he wasn’t showing his face anymore? Was the sense more than just a fashion statement and instead a way to hide his face out of anxiety or insecurity? Did that mean, he didn’t trust Sirius anymore?

Of course, …

It all made sense then.

Kakashi had felt safe around the dog, Shaggy. That didn’t apply to the mass murderer Sirius Black. And why would it? Kakashi might have said that he believed Sirius, but who would? Why would Kakashi believe him over the newspapers? And even if he did, Kakashi was smart and wouldn’t throw all caution into the wind, just because of a hunch that the escaped convict might be telling the truth.

Indeed, Kakashi was so smart, wouldn’t it be the most viable and safe strategy in his mind, to just pretend? Suddenly finding himself in the presence of the convicted murderer of roughly 20 people, including some of his best friends… Kakashi had to be terrified.

The idea that Kakashi might be faking it, horrified Sirius. What was he doing? Kakashi had no reason whatsoever to trust him and the fact that he did it regardless… How had Sirius been so naïve, to believe, Kakashi would trust him when it was so much more likely that he was simply trying to appease the convicted murderer and survive the week.

That was why he was so nervous.

That was why he didn’t answer any of Sirius’ questions.

And it was also why he didn’t feel confident showing his face anymore.

Did Kakashi fear, exposing information about his home and family would put them in danger? Maybe he was only trying to protect his loved ones. A brave boy.

It was so plain to see and yet Sirius in his hopeful cluelessness had just ignored it. It was the most obvious explanation: The boy was still terrified of him. And why wouldn’t he be?

The realization cut deep into Sirius. This kid, Kakashi, who was kind and caring, who treated him like a human even now… he was putting this boy into a state of deadly terror, surely…

He didn’t know for sure, but it seemed the most likely explanation for the boy’s behavior. And that wouldn’t do. Sirius never wanted to frighten the boy. He didn’t want to be the cause for sleepless nights and fearful thoughts.

Sirius shook himself. Quickly he changed into his dog form for the night. He had come to a decision. If the boy insisted on playing this charade – if he insisted on acting as if running across a foreign country following an escaped convict on his quest for revenge, was his free will and not something he only did out of terror and survival instinct… Sirius would make the choice for him. He would free Kakashi of this horrific situation.

And how could he have been so naïve… now that he thought about it… in hindsight, it seemed so obvious. Following an escaped murderer across a foreign country to murder a stranger… which teenager would simply agree to that unless he did it out of self-preservation? Sirius had just been blind to it, self-indulgent, trying to bath in the idea that he wasn’t alone anymore.

But he was… and he should be… this wasn’t a quest for a teenager. This rotten path, that could only lead to damnation or right back to hell – it was one he had to go alone.

London, he thought, curling in on himself in his dog form. Burying his snout into the rosemary bush, the strong fragrance making him almost unaware of anything else.

He would bring Kakashi to London. He would have plenty of time until then, to teach him the English language well enough, that he could get along just fine on his own. In London, there would be a muggle auror office or maybe even the Japanese embassy. They could take care of Kakashi there. There was help for Kakashi in London.

They would split paths then. He could continue to Surrey, to see Harry, and then start the arduous journey north to Hogwarts, and by then Kakashi would already be back home with his family, where he belonged.

Sirius slept restlessly that night, but he didn’t dream. There was the overwhelming scent of rosemary that took any other thought away making him dream of a buffet of smoked trout with rosemary.

When he woke up, still feeling groggy, he thought he heard voices. A foreign language. Kakashi… Was he talking to somebody? But who would he talk to? Maybe he was praying. Praying to be free of the murderer? When the voice quieted only shortly after Sirius woke up, he thought he imagined a different voice, however. One gruff, and deep.

Sirius jumped up, but the voices were gone, and instead, Kakashi came through the trees back to him. He looked just the way he had in the evening, and he was alone. Nobody else was with him.

Had Sirius imagined the second voice?

He sniffed the air testily, but there was no other person. Just him, Kakashi, the last remaining trout that he hadn’t been able to eat the night before, cold ashes and the overwhelming scent of rosemary. Something was different though. Sirius thought he smelled a lingering scent of dog coming from Kakashi that wasn’t Padfoot’s own body odor. But that was impossible. Where would Kakashi have met a dog tonight? Maybe it had brushed him outside Norwich and Sirius simply hadn’t recognized the scent until now.

Something else concerned him far more. It was too early. Still dark and long before morning… Kakashi hadn’t slept or slept bad, just as Sirius had feared. The boy looked dead tired. He’d never seen him like that, with bags under his eyes and shuffling steps on wobbly legs. Sirius’ company clearly wasn’t good for him.

This was enough. It had already gone too far.

Chapter Text

“So, let me try and get this right,” Pakkun’s gruff voice barked out through the woods. Kakashi had walked a bit away from the camp to get some distance between himself and Black. “You’ve stranded here a week ago and you only thought to call me now?”

Kakashi gave his ninken a week smile. He felt surprisingly tired, his eyes drooping a little. When was the last time, a simple summoning had taken so much energy out of him?

“Sorry.” He shook his head trying to shrug off the exhaustion. “When I arrived here, I suffered from Chakra exhaustion, and… couldn’t.” The apology was lame, Kakashi knew himself. It was true, that when he had first woken up here, he had felt something akin to chakra exhaustion, but he had quickly recovered from that within a day. After that, truthfully, he didn’t know why he hadn’t called Pakkun.

Just as he didn’t know why it felt okay to journey with a dog through this foreign country. Or even to follow a convicted mass murderer on his private quest for revenge. Why wasn’t he doing everything he could to go back to Konoha? Sure, he didn’t know how to get back home, but surely traveling at such a leisurely pace walking from village to village wasn’t the most effective way to find home.

The best way to describe it, the best answer he could give to himself to all these questions was: Because he liked it. Because for the first time in years… for the first since before even his father had died… Kakashi felt at peace. There was something calming and relaxing and quite mundane about traveling through this country.

He might not know this language, or this place, or these people, but he felt safe. He didn’t remember the last time he had felt that safe. There was no threat and no war looming in the background. Even more so, he felt like he could do something good: Feed a starving man, help an innocent man, accompany a lonely man… a man as lonely as himself.

What was there left for him in Konoha? A dead team, a dead sensei, a dead father. Blood sticking to his hands and under his nails. A village still in ruins by a most devastating attack. A peace on such shaky foundations that it was only a matter of time until he would find himself on the battlefield again. A child that Kakashi could only ruin. And a job that would demand of him to continue killing even during peace.

He didn’t dare say that out loud. Just a week ago to mutter these words, he would have thought himself mad, stupid, or childish. Or a coward. He had never regretted becoming a shinobi, he’d been proud of it. The youngest ever to graduate from the academy. He hadn’t enjoyed being a soldier of war, but he had done it with a sense of responsibility and duty. He’d never allowed himself to doubt the missions he was given or the village that gave them to him. Even killing was something, he’d always done gladly for his country. To protect the village. And even now, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it… He would do it all over again, for the village, for his comrades, for the Hokage and the country. To think, that he was here, walking through a foreign country instead of helping his village rebuild, left him with a sense of guilt. Like he was failing them…

And still… part of it, part of why he had been so proud of what he was doing, why had never questioned it, and why he would do it again, was because Kakashi thought it inevitable. War was inevitable. Peace wasn’t something he’d ever known.

There were only a few short years between the Second Shinobi World War – the one that had turned his father into a legend – and the Third Shinobi World War – the one in which Kakashi had fought himself. Kakashi had been born during the Second War. He only remembered very little of it. He remembered his father’s many missions and the tense fear on the streets. He remembered the way the citizens had cheered for their heroes: the Hokage, the Sannin, his father. His mother had died in that war. Just a year after his birth. He didn’t remember that. Not her, nor the way she died, nor the funeral. He remembered his father mourning, even years after, but he didn’t remember her. He couldn’t even picture her in his head. By the time he joined the academy, the last year of the war had started. The history books would speak of that year as the bloodiest year of the war. Kakashi had no illusions. He knew that that was the reason, the village had pushed him through the academy at breakneck speed. He had graduated within the year, but only a month later, the war had ended.

And another three years later, his father would abandon his mission and kickstart the series of events that would lead to the Third Shinobi World War. By the time the fighting started two years later, Kakashi had been ten, a Chunin of the Leaf and he had fought in that war from the first day on. That war was over now. And not a year after the peace treaties were signed, Konoha suffered the most devastating attack yet… a catastrophe of their own making, in a way. The Kyuubi rampaging through his home.

He didn’t know peace. Whenever somebody spoke of it, he had no recollection of what that might mean. When he thought of peace, all he could picture was a short five-year reprieve before the next big war started. A reprieve that only ever lasted so long in the first place, because there were shinobi doing all the dirty work in the shadows.

Now after the third war, he was one of these shinobi in the shadows. And he would do whatever the village would demand, pay whatever sacrifice was necessary, to make this reprieve last for as long as possible.

But it could hardly be called peace. It was too shaky and too fragile for that. Hardly more than a seize fire.

Yet, here… even though Black had spoken of war, it never seemed like that in this country. Here, when he walked through villages and spoke to strangers… these people knew nothing but peace.

Kakashi would scoff at himself if he ever spoke this out loud, but now that he got a glimpse of what peace was, he realized that he craved this. And maybe, it was selfish of him, that he didn’t want to go back home. Not yet, anyway. He wanted this to last longer.

He couldn’t tell Pakkun, though. Not because Pakkun wouldn’t understand or berate him for it, but rather the opposite: He’d prove him right! Pakkun respected him as his summoner, of course, as the human who had signed a contract with the ninken years ago… But Pakkun also saw him as a child, a pup who shouldn’t have to do what Kakashi did. Just like Kakashi never liked it, when Minato doubted him, he liked it even less from his own summons. Telling Pakkun how much he enjoyed this peaceful place… his ninken would take it as a confirmation of all the things he’d worried about before. As proof, that no matter how much Kakashi had tried to prove him wrong, after all, he was just a child who had no place on the battlefield.

“Chakra exhaustion?” Pakkun repeated, his deep voice rough with an edge of anger. “So, not only did you wait to inform me that you were stranded in a foreign country alone for a week. But you were injured too? You fool!”

“Not injured,” Kakashi corrected, “just…” He was interrupted by a yawn.

“What up, pup?” Pakkun asked abandoning his prior questioning in favor of this new one. “You’re normally not that tired.”

“I know…,” Kakashi furrowed his brows. “This Kuchiyose took a lot out of me.”

The small pug’s face scrunched in thought. “That’s not normal.”

“Mah… I’ll be alright.” But the ninken was right. It wasn’t normal, which made Kakashi worry. Was there something about this country, which made it more difficult for him to use jutsu. Like a barrier, technique to stop him from accessing his chakra? He hadn’t expected that. The day before he hadn’t felt any problem using genjutsu and climbing trees hadn’t become more difficult either. Again, he shook the thought off, trying to focus on more important things. “How long ago was the last time we talked?” he asked just to make sure. The conversation with Black earlier had made him more aware of the possibility that he might have been out for multiple days. So far, he had naturally assumed that some jutsu had teleported him here, but there was a chance, that he might have been unconscious for longer than he thought.

“Is something up with your memory?” Pakkun asked in a tone between worried and rude. At least he didn’t make Kakashi ask again but instead answered with a sigh. “Just over a week ago, during the Kyuubi attack. In case you forgot.”

He hadn’t forgotten of course. Kakashi scowled. He would never be able to forget that day. “Good,” he said instead of berating the ninken for his tone. “That fits with my own memory. So, I wasn’t unconscious for long.”

“You were unconscious!?” The ninken cried out in frustration. “Pup…” But he stopped when he saw Kakashi’s eyelids droop. “Pup? Kakashi! What’s happening?”

“My chakra is still draining,” Kakashi said because there was no point denying it. For whatever reason, the summoning didn’t only take a lot out of him, even the drain of keeping Pakkun here seemed extraordinary strong. He wouldn’t be able to hold that up for much longer. It was odd. Normally the summoning was a jutsu he could do even half-dead and the drain was something he barely even felt at all. “You need to leave again,” Kakashi declared. “I will…” He had planned to write a message to the Hokage in which he could explain his predicament, but now he sat down as he started feeling nauseated. He didn’t have time to write anything. “Go to the Hokage, and tell him where I am.”

Pakkun looked around himself through the forest. He scrutinized the closest bush with a thoughtful expression. “And where are you?”

“This country is called Great Britain or England. I don’t know how I…” He paused. With his fingers to his forehead, he scrunched his eyes shut as a headache started spreading there. “I’m running out of time.” That much was obvious. “Tell Sandaime-sama that I’ll find a way home.” He had no idea how to do that yet, though. Part of him had hoped that he could simply reverse summon himself to the Kennels. His ninken’s summoning dimension. From there the way home wouldn’t be easy but at least he’d be closer to home than before. Now, he seriously worried that doing that would immediately kill him via chakra exhaustion. What was going on?

Pakkun seemed to come to the same conclusion. “But you have no idea, how to do it yet.” He shook his head clearly worried. “Listen, pup. I don’t recognize any of the smells, but even more than that… It feels different.”

Kakashi opened his eyes, looking at him questioning. “Different, how?”

“The chakra…” Pakkun shook his head. There was an expression of disgust on his face. “Listen: it’s wrong. You can’t feel it because you don’t know natural energy.” Kakashi nodded to the ninken’s words. As any animal summoning, Pakkun had a certain understanding of nature chakra. Unlike Minato’s and Jiraiya’s toads, Kakashi’s ninkens couldn’t use or even accurately sense it, but they still had a certain connection to it. “But there’s something different here.”

Different? Different how? Kakashi remembered the odd haze of energy he’d seen when Black used his dog transformation. “Magic?” he whispered to himself.

“What’s magic?” the pug asked confused. Then he quickly shook his head having no time for these questions. “I don’t know what it is. It’s life energy… a sort of… but it’s different. Not completely but…” Pakkun obviously lacked the words to describe it.

Kakashi didn’t know what to make of the ninken’s words. In fact, the more Pakkun spoke, the less sense he seemed to make.

“Argh… I feel it… The jutsu is about to run out, but Kakashi. I don’t think, you’re just in a different country.” And with that, Pakkun left. He vanished in a small cloud and an almost inaudible plop.

Kakashi stared at the space where he had been.

Not just a different country… Not just a different continent? Was that what Pakkun had wanted to say. If life energy here felt different, that meant… In his world, he knew, that all chakra came from nature. Legend had it, that Kaguya ate the Cakra Fruit from the God Tree and thus was the first human to ever use chakra. Maybe, he had assumed, in this country, something else had happened to give people the ability to use chakra. Something so different, that his chakra and theirs was not compatible, that he couldn’t make sense of their techniques. But, in that case, the natural energy upon which all this was based, should still be the same. But if it wasn’t…

Was nature itself different here? Did that mean, he wasn’t just in a different country, or on a different continent, but in a different world altogether? But…

No, that couldn’t be right. They knew his language. What were the odds, that on a different planet, they would still develop the same language?

He had accepted that somehow, he had traveled through space, as he was clearly somewhere else. It was very likely – he remembered the antique’s vendor telling him about the kunai being a relic from a distant past – that he had traveled through time as well… But that wouldn’t be enough. Maybe… most importantly, he had traveled through dimensions.

The thought was both frightening but also not that surprising. Traveling through dimensions wasn’t unheard of where he came from… In his world. It was common knowledge, that summoning techniques used small dimensions to travel, as had Minato-sensei’s teleportation. There were jutsu he knew about – though he never learned them himself – that could access the realm of the dead. When he stored his tools in scrolls, he also worked with miniature pocket dimensions…

Dimensional travel wasn’t unheard of, but a dimension as complex as this…? A whole different world, with a different form of natural energy and a different way to access that? With different people in different countries speaking different languages…

And there still was the original question, one that got all the more important and baffling now: How did he get here?

It was something he’d have to think about another day, he decided. He was too tired now. As he walked back to their camp, he noticed that Black was awake, but he didn’t even have the energy to muster a ‘good morning’. Nor did he think about climbing a tree. He felt safe here, in this country… this world. So, he simply laid down next to the cold fireplace and fell asleep instantly.

**

In the morning it had started to rain. Kakashi woke up with wet clothes, feeling uncomfortable. It was still warm enough, that he didn’t mind it that much. Black, on the other hand, seemed to mind it quite a bit. He was grumpy that morning, moved with loud moans and stiff joints reminding Kakashi of a sick elderly man.

Well… Black was sick, wasn’t he? Starved, and who knew how the prison treatment had affected his body and health. As for the ‘elderly’ part? How old was he, anyway?

Kakashi vaguely remembered that in the first article he had read about him, they had written his age. Kakashi hadn’t bothered reading that, though. He had just skipped the short information in brackets because the digits didn’t give him any information on how to pronounce the number – although he understood the meaning. If he remembered correctly, they had said he was 30-something… But that couldn’t be right. He looked like well over 50. Kakashi knew, that prolonged imprisonment could make people age faster. But to this extreme seemed more in line with torture rather than imprisonment. Black hadn’t said much about his time in the wizarding prison, Azkaban, but if he indeed was in his thirties… Kakashi felt angry at the mere thought of it.

Not only because Black had been innocent, but more so, because he considered him a friend. To a degree, Kakashi could understand torture for the sake of getting information. But Black had said, they hadn’t even given him a trial nor cared to find out the truth. It didn’t sound like they had tried to tickle some viable knowledge out of him. He was not so naïve as to think that there were no sadists who just tortured for fun, but Kakashi had no taste for that.

“How old?” Kakashi asked still in thought. He was surprised at his own bluntness, but he had gotten used to Black’s willingness to share information.

“Huh?” Black asked looking up at him. There was something dark and worried in his look. Something like hatred, though it didn’t feel directed at Kakashi. Still, Kakashi was taken aback. Had something changed between last night and now?

“You. How old?”

“You say: How old are you?” Sirius corrected him. “I’m Thirty-three years old.” His brows furrowed a little, then he poked a finger into muddy earth and spelled out a ‘33’. “Thirty…three.”

Kakashi nodded his thanks, grateful for the considerate gesture. He still had trouble with numbers above twenty. He could read the digits just fine – it was a simple decimal system with just ten digits after all, including a zero which was either nothing or a times-ten factor – but he didn’t know all the words yet.

33 years… Kakashi scowled. It was hard to see a 33-year-old in this face of sickly white skin, with deep lines dug by sorrow and suffering. The only feature that seemed to fit the age was the thick long hair which was still mostly black, not grey.

“How about you?” Black asked back. He spoke slow. “How old are you?”

Kakashi scoffed a little, realizing that Black had turned his question into a language lesson. “I’m four-ten,” he played along because though it wasn’t what he had wanted, he still needed practice. “…years old…” he added a bit sheepishly when Black was obviously waiting for that part.

Black gave him a tired smile. “Fourteen.” He drew a 14 into the mud. “We should go. It’s still far to London.”

Kakashi had nothing to say against that. Still fascinated he watched the wizard turn into his dog form. The fur was wet and as they started their march, the dog’s scraggly wet mane made him look even more sickly than he was. He looked wild and untamed and starving. Kakashi watched him trudge on until he turned his head to look back at him and wait for Kakashi to catch up. His eyes were of the same steel grey as Black’s human eyes, Kakashi noted.

The dog continued to lead the way. Southwest, they went. When yesterday and the days before Black had let him through quiet paths, now they soon reached a wide road with several lanes, and big green street signs. The metallic transportation machines, Kakashi had already noted before – cars - zipped past at a speed far superior to the pulled carts Kakashi was used to from civilians in the Land of Fire. He had seen them drive before, making their way through the towns and country roads he’d walked through on his journey. Kakashi had already noted, that they were faster than carts, but here on this road, they were even faster. Tired as he still felt from summoning Pakkun earlier, he might even have some trouble keeping up. On the downside, he had already noted how these cars stank. They left behind the distinct stench of burned fuels the way he was only used to from factories.

They walked all day, Black setting a for Kakashi leisurely but – as he now felt safe to assume – for the people of this world quite brisk pace. He didn’t stop once, although halfway through the day the dog started breathing heavier. That was when Kakashi himself slowed down a little. For whatever reason, it seemed Black was determined to get a big junk of their journey behind them on that day. That was also the reason, Kakashi assumed, why they were walking next to this wide road even though it stank abysmally, and the noise gave Kakashi a headache. It was likely the most direct road to their goal.

That, however, left the question of why? Was there something wrong with this area? Was it not safe for them to spend a lot of time here? But that didn’t feel right. In fact, whenever they got closer to a settlement, the villages looked the same as the ones before and the people acted the same as well. At some point they passed a place called Attleborough and an elderly woman with her own dog came up to him, walking a little with Kakashi and prattling on and on about how happy she was that the weather had finally turned for the better. She was nice enough and Kakashi didn’t get the impression that she felt unsafe here at all, nor did she seem to be in a hurry.

So, this was all just Black. Something made Black push himself and push himself hard. Kakashi was at a loss. He couldn’t remember anything that could have caused this, nor had Black mentioned anything morning that would indicate that he was in more of a hurry now compared to yesterday.

It also wasn’t good for him, Kakashi feared. Starved as he was, he shouldn’t have the energy for these long marches. Sooner or later he would collapse, Kakashi feared.

It was already well into the evening, and they had left Attleborough long past them, were closing in on another town called Thetford. Having nothing else to do, Kakashi kept reading the street signs. He whispered the names of the different villages and towns to himself. “Thetford…” His lip tried the odd th-sound the people here used so often. “Thetford…” His breath whistled between teeth and tongue. “We should take a break,” he said before they reached the town. “It’s getting late.” Despite his lingering exhaustion from summoning Pakkun, he wouldn’t mind walking through the night, but Black’s steps had become uncertain. He was dragging his paws, his tail and head were hanging low, he was heckling with difficulty, and several times he had almost tripped. He didn’t stop though, and Kakashi worried, Black might be determined to walk right into an early grave unless Kakashi asked for a stop.

He looked around himself for a good place to make camp. However, there was just the road and a green plain all around them. There weren’t even any significant hills for them to hide. A mile further south, however, he could see the dark shadows of a forest barely visible against the darkening sky.

He was about to suggest going there when he realized Black hadn’t stopped. “Shaggy!” He called out to the dog who had already gone ahead several slow steps. “Shaggy, wait!” The dog’s ears perked up a little. He looked back to Kakashi eyes tired but questioning.

“We should take a break,” Kakashi suggested again, pointing in the direction of the forest. “Over there.” Although he kept his tone pleasant, he didn’t give Black any chance to decline. Instead, he turned on his heels walking back a few hundred steps to where he remembered an underpass leading below the road to the other side. Black, Kakashi realized, needed a worryingly long time to catch up to him again.

**

Kakashi woke up by sheer instinct. People, he knew.

He had slept well on the mossy – but wet – ground. He still felt the lingering chakra exhaustion, but physically he felt quite well-rested.

His first glance went to Black who laid tightly curled into himself sheltered between bushes and undergrowth. Although he had fallen asleep in dog form the second Kakashi had declared, that they should use this place to make camp, now he was back in human form. He was also shivering violently and moaning quietly in his sleep.

Certain that Black was fast asleep, Kakashi leaped into the trees with a single powerful jump. He sniffed the air, looked around, listened. It was still early in the morning, but it wouldn’t be long until sunrise. He was certain he heard human voices, though they were still far away.

Kakashi didn’t trust these trees to silently hold his weight jumping from one tree to the other, so he slid back to the ground. After another look at Black, making sure he hadn’t woken up, Kakashi started making his way towards the voices. He moved fast- Light steps completely silent against the ground. He slipped through the forest, hiding behind trees and bushes, and he found the humans within a matter of seconds.

It was a group of nine. Four adults, five children. Two families, he gathered. Or maybe one big family with aunt and uncle. The youngest child, a boy of maybe two, was carried in a baby carrier on a young man’s back. Four other kids, three girls, and one boy – all barely reaching to Kakashi’s hips were running wildly beside the adult. Two of them were loud balls of energy, yelling at each other, poking with sticks against the ground and into bushes. The other two were equally loudly complaining about why they had to wake up so early and that they hated ‘hiking’.

Kakashi was transfixed by the sight for a few minutes. It was such an unassuming little scene and yet… It was one thing feeling safe within the confines of a city – with or without defensive city walls – but to just leave that safety for a morning family trip? Where Kakashi came from, civilians required shinobi protection just to travel from one village to the next or they risked being robbed, murdered, or kidnapped by bands of vagrants and thieves, or rogue or enemy shinobi.

He followed them for a while. When one of the girls didn’t stop complaining, her mother lifted her up and carried her on her hip for a few meters until she demanded to be let down again as one of the other children found something of interest below a root. It turned out to be a for Kakashi rather unassuming bug, but the kids found this so fascinating that they showed their parents and then one of the girls hunted another with the big bug in her hand threatening to put it into her sister’s hair.

It was only when they turned on the narrow trail, that Kakashi became aware that they were now walking towards where Black still slept. If he knew anything, then that Black couldn’t be seen, or they had the police – or the ‘aurors’ as he called them – on their trail in an instant. These two families at their pace wouldn’t reach their camp within the hour, but Kakashi and Black had to hide all the traces of ever being here before the families reached them.

When he arrived back at their camp Black was still asleep. “Wake up!” Kakashi called over to him, already throwing away the charred wood from the small fire he had made in the evening. Kakashi didn’t think the family would be looking for their traces and even if, he didn’t think any of them were trained trackers, but he didn’t want to risk anything, so he put quite a bit of care into hiding their footprints, as well as anything that looked like it might have been moved by human hand recently. “Black!” Black hadn’t moved.

Finally, when he was done cleaning up the campsite only a few minutes later, while Black still hadn’t woken up, he walked up to the man, shaking his shoulder. Black surged up in sudden fright. It was only thanks to Kakashi’s reflexes, that they didn’t bump heads. Wide, haunted eyes stared at Kakashi.

“Turn to dog,” Kakashi said. “People.”

Black blinked at him confused, then he looked around as if he didn’t know where he was. His movements as he rolled out of his shelter between the bushes and then tried to stand up, were slow and lethargic. His limps were trembling. He also ruined Kakashi’s hard work, hiding their traces, as now there was the unmistakable imprint of a human body rolling over flattened undergrowth. Kakashi scowled a little.

“There coming people,” he said again when Black still hadn’t turned. He didn’t even seem fully awake yet. His formerly wide-eyed and confused alertness had shifted into a lethargic droopiness.

He’d overdone it the day before, Kakashi thought. And he hadn’t eaten anything after.

“Okay, stay,” Kakashi ordered.

He didn’t know if Black understood the order or if he was simply too tired to do anything else anyway. At least he kept sitting where he was. Kakashi wasted another two minutes getting rid of the huge imprint Black’s body had left behind. Then he just barely caught Black, before he fell sideways. He was back asleep. With a sigh, Kakashi lifted his friend up and threw him over his back. It was awkward as Black was quite a bit taller than him, but he was disturbingly light.

“Just go back sleep,” Kakashi muttered, when Black’s quiet moaning made him aware of the fact, that the man had woken up again. “Don’t worry.” Back didn’t need to be asked twice. And then Kakashi was off.

Chapter Text

Sirius’s body was aching all over. He hadn’t ached that bad since he had escaped Azkaban still bruised from when the sea had thrown him around, crashed his body against rocks before it had washed him ashore. This ache, however, felt better. It was the screaming muscles of hard work not the agonizing bruises of abuse. Still, it was a clear sign that he had overdone it the day before.

He woke up, feeling groggy and a little lost. Like there was something he should remember but had forgotten. His chin rested against a hard surface while his arms and legs hung free, held up by somebody carrying him with strong arms around his thighs, his weight slumped over straight shoulders… Shoulders? His chin was resting against the crook of a neck, somebody else’s hair scratching and tickling against his skin.

The soft up and down of powerful steps was almost imperceptible. It reminded him of Hogwarts. Of the morning after a full moon night in sixth grade, when he had overdone it and fallen asleep, so Prongs carried him back to the dormitory before the teachers who would come to collect Moony in the morning, could find him too and see that he had snuck out of the Gryffindor dorms again.

“I’ve missed you, Prongs,” he muttered before he could even think about his words.

That wasn’t right…

Confused he raised his head blinking against the sun. James was dead. Dead and buried over a decade ago. Remus had abandoned him, and Peter was a traitor. He was a convict on the run, he reminded himself, although now, that he slowly caught up to his situation he didn’t really need that reminder. He was painfully aware of it.

Who would carry him, then?

He saw the back of a head, grey hair, and the dark cloth of the mask stretching over a thin neck. The boy… Kakashi. Automatically Sirius pushed away from him.

“Kakashi!” he exclaimed surprised. How could Kakashi carry him? Why would he? He suddenly felt awkward, realizing how much shorter the kid was than him. A fourteen-year-old teenager carrying a full-grown adult. Sure, he was starved half to death, but that wasn’t really an excuse why he should let himself be carried around by a kid. And where was Kakashi even taking him? Never mind, he only actively realized now, he was in human form… if they were seen. Or was that what Kakashi had planned? Carrying him to the police, helpless in his sleep?

“Good morning, Mr. Black,” Kakashi said with a silent chuckle in his voice. He let Sirius down. “We had to leave camp. People.”

There were people? Sirius looked Kakashi up and down, looked for any signs that the boy was sweating or that his back was aching from carrying Sirius around.

“Call me Sirius,” Sirius said automatically, before biting his tongue. The child was terrified of him, he reminded himself, remembering how tired Kakashi had been from lack of sleep. Acting as if they were close by getting on a first name basis… that wouldn’t help, Sirius feared.

But Kakashi only smiled at him. “Good morning, Sirius,” he repeated. “I tried you awake, but you were tired.”

“You tried waking me up, but I was tired?” Sirius said without thinking. “Why?” he quickly added because that was more important now than the English lesson. “Why didn’t you just leave me there.”

Kakashi stared at him with a single wide eye, then he looked down at the street as if he was taken aback by the question. He didn’t answer. Sirius followed his eyes.

“Where are we?” He didn’t recognize this place, which didn’t mean much. There were a lot of parts of England that he wouldn’t recognize immediately, even before his imprisonment. And that was ten years ago. There were plain green meadows around them. Not a hill in sight. He had no idea where he was.

Kakashi took a few steps back, then he pointed with his left arm. Sirius followed him, then looked where Kakashi was pointing. A bit further away down a narrow path, there was a small sign. A white arrow with a text on it, that he couldn’t read from where they stood. Sirius jogged up to the sign, with Kakashi following him close behind.

“Braintree,” he read. He shook his head. He didn’t know a Braintree in Norfolk. The last he remembered they had been close to Thetford. He looked around. He didn’t see the town close by, nor did he see any signs pointing towards it. “Have we already passed Thetford?”

Kakashi nodded.

“How long ago?” If he could calculate the time and… How fast would Kakashi be, carrying him around? He had already noted that the boy had good stamina, he hadn’t once gotten tired on their journey. So, he wasn’t too surprised that Kakashi was not just able to carry him, but even drag him all the way past Thetford. Only how much further?

If they had passed Thetford, were they already in Suffolk? But he didn’t know a Braintree in Suffolk either. Maybe, it was some tiny place he had never heard of. The closest Braintree, Sirius could think of was in…. Essex… but that couldn’t be right. That would mean, Kakashi had carried him all the way through Suffolk and they were already 40 miles before London. Sirius shook his head. That was simply impossible.

But then he read the sign again. “Braintree…” He glanced at Kakashi. “How long was I asleep? How long did you carry me?” Braintree, if this was indeed Braintree, Essex was halfway between Thetford and central London. How?!

Kakashi shrugged again. “Hour before sun went up?”

“We left camp an hour before sunrise?” Sirius shook his head disbelieving. “Today?” It wasn’t even noon yet. Had Kakashi run a marathon with him on his back? He shook his head, deciding it would be a waste of energy to make sense of that. Maybe it was another instance of Kakashi’s maybe magical abilities. Somehow teleporting him from Thetford, Norfolk to Braintree, Essex. “Did anybody see us?” That was a much bigger worry, he decided.

It was difficult to read his expression behind the mask, but Sirius thought Kakashi scoffed. “No.” He said in a tone as if he felt insulted that Sirius had even considered that.

Although Sirius was doubtful, he didn’t question it. “Okay,” he said. He didn’t really believe it though. Somehow carrying Sirius for 40 miles was one thing. Doing it without being seen by anybody?

“I’m sorry about that.” Sirius looked at the boy. He still couldn’t detect any slumped shoulders or sweat. “Forcing you into that position.” Even if the boy were here of his own free will… it was one thing to ask him to follow Sirius around, another thing entirely to need to be carried.

“No worries,” Kakashi smiled.

“How did you know the way?”

“You said London. I read signs. London everywhere.”

“Every sign says what direction London is?” Sirius asked to make sure.

Kakashi nodded.

“Good.” Not just that they had gone in the right direction. Even more so, it was reassuring that Kakashi could find his way. If he continued like that, he’d soon be better at finding his way than Sirius himself.

**

They carried on their journey. Kakashi had been a little put-off, by how surprised Sirius had been, that Kakashi had taken care of him as he was asleep. Had he thought, Kakashi would just leave him to be found? Did Sirius think that low of him?

Then, however, he had quickly brushed these doubts off. Evidently, Sirius had only been surprised, that Kakashi was able to carry him – never mind carry him that far. Still, Sirius's doubts in his skills were almost more insulting than doubting his integrity would have been. Kakashi knew he was the scum of the earth. So, having people expect the worst from him, might hurt, but it wasn’t very surprising. Having them doubt his abilities… That was a new one. It wasn’t Sirius’ fault of course. Kakashi had kept his skills hidden, after all.

Because Sirius hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday morning, he quickly ate the rest of the smoked trout.

“You’re not hungry?” Sirius asked with the trout half-eaten. Kakashi only shook his head. He wasn’t and if he were, he still had enough soldier pills to last for a few days.

“If we’re already at Braintree…” Sirius started but then shook his head eating the rest. “We’re getting close to London now. Soon as we’re in the metropolitan region, I don’t feel comfortable transforming anymore.”

Kakashi had no idea what ‘metropolitan region’ meant. “Close to London?” he asked.

“Yes.” Sirius looked at him then sighed. “The city itself and the region around it. Too many people. I’ll be seen.”

Five million people, Kakashi remembered. The very idea of so many people in one single city made his ears ring. Hiding from so many sounded like a challenge even for him. It would be safer for Sirius to just stay hidden as a giant black dog.

“What is plan in London?” Kakashi asked curiously. If he had understood it correctly, it wasn’t where Sirius’ godson lived, so what were they going to do there? So far, Kakashi had the impression, Sirius was avoiding the cities, so why would he want to walk right into the biggest of them all.

“What’s the plan when we arrive in London? Or… What are you planning to do in London?” Sirius shook his head. It wasn’t the first time that he offered multiple solutions how to say something without really explaining the difference to Kakashi. Kakashi wouldn’t know it, even if Sirius explained. Learning the language seemed to work intuitively for the most part, but Kakashi never had grammar classes in school. If Sirius started explaining what a subject or verb in a clause was, it would hardly help Kakashi. “It’s on the way to Surrey,” Sirius answered. Then he hesitated for a moment. “And we should get to a police department there.”

“Police?” Kakashi asked curiously. If he had at all understood what ‘police’ meant it was an institution Sirius should rather try to avoid. But Sirius didn’t explain himself.

“Son’s friend lives in Surrey?” Kakashi asked, then he frowned realizing his own mistake. “Your friend’s son.”

“Yes.” Sirius sighed, looking down the road. Kakashi had chosen this empty hiking trail through the countryside. It was lonely, without a soul in sight. Several times that day, Kakashi had to jump off-road to avoid being seen before he had found this path. However, the lack of street signs in the place made it rather difficult for him to navigate through this foreign country. He had set a course roughly southwest having already gathered that London had to be somewhere in that direction from all the street signs he’d seen before – when he’d still used the bigger roads.

“We should move on. How did you find this trail?” Sirius looked rather impressed at the surprising solitude. Kakashi shrugged. Apparently, Sirius didn’t need an answer to his question because he continued after a moment. “His name is Harry. Harry Potter. He’s my godson.” He had used that word before, Kakashi remembered.

“Godson?” Kakashi asked.

Sirius looked at him as if he didn’t understand the question. Then he smiled drily. “Oh… Yes, a godson is… The parents choose another adult – a friend or maybe an aunt or uncle– to help raise and guide the child. Lily and James chose me. When they died, I should have become Harry’s guardian. I should be the one taking care of him, but…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but Kakashi was able to fill in the blank. Obviously, being imprisoned would make it difficult to fulfill his guardian role.

Sirius stayed quiet for a while, Kakashi having nothing to add to it himself. Then finally, Sirius spoke up again. “Do you have that in your culture, too? In Japan?”

Kakashi felt uncomfortable then. Sirius had told him so much. He had taught Kakashi everything about their world, helped him learn the language, opened up about his past… He trusted Kakashi with so much, and Kakashi still hadn’t even told him where he came from.

“I’m not—” Kakashi started, but then he caught himself. It wasn’t safe to share this information he told himself. A shinobi didn’t share their affiliation without good reason… Never mind, even if he wanted to, what was the point? Sirius wouldn’t even know what Kakashi was talking about.

“Yes.” He had no idea about Japan, but in Konoha, they had godparents, or something similar. “Something like that.”

“Like that?” Sirius asked curiously. He was clearly just trying to keep the conversation going. Was he fishing for information? Or was he trying to bond? “Do you have a good relationship with your godparent?”

Maybe it was just another English lesson, Kakashi thought, as he was trying to string together his response. “I guess.” He shrugged. “He took care of me.”

Sirius's brows furrowed. “He took care of you? What about your parents?”

Kakashi answered with a shrug. He saw something dark pass across Sirius’ eyes, then he apparently brushed it aside.

“Does he have a name? That godparent?”

Now, that was the first question that might prompt Kakashi to give something important away. Asking for a name. Warily Kakashi glanced at Sirius, but there was nothing on his face that would give away the man’s intention. Kakashi didn’t think Sirius was actually trying to get details to use against him, and maybe this would be a good opportunity to test something.

“Sarutobi,” Kakashi said. “Hiruzen Sarutobi.”

There was no moment of recognition on Sirius’ face. Nothing in his eyes or the way he acted would indicate that he knew the name. So, not only did Kakashi not know this country, but the name of the Hokage hadn’t reached here either. That, or Sirius was a much better actor than Kakashi gave him credit for.

“He’s the Hokage.”

Still, nothing. Sirius didn’t know what a Hokage was. It seemed more and more likely, that Kakashi had really somehow landed in a sort of parallel dimension. One, where Konoha didn’t exist. If that was true, Kakashi could be a bit more open with details of his life… However, he thought, he should stay cautious. Who knew what these people would do, if they found out inter-dimensional travel was a thing… Unless, of course, they already knew about that...? Then, maybe, this magic was his ticket home.

“What’s a Hokage?” Sirius asked when Kakashi – deep in thought – didn’t say anything else.

Kakashi pushed his hands in his pockets. “He’s village leader.”

“Village leader? Like a mayor?”

Kakashi already knew that word. “Something like that. Just… more important.”

At that, Sirius chuckled. “So, your parents are some big shots? Important people with connections to local government?”

The question threw Kakashi for a loop before he understood what Sirius meant. The way, he had explained godparents, it seemed to be something very personal. A godparent was a friend of the family, maybe even part of the family. It was similar for civilians in the Land of Fire, Kakashi thought. For most shinobi, however, their parents appointed the Hokage guardian in case of their early demise. It was the easiest solution, especially considering that most shinobi would die young, and leaving the child under the watchful eye of the Hokage – and therefore making them a ward of the entire village – was a much more permanent solution, than to pick a friend of the family who might not survive much longer, anyway. Kakashi knew, that Minato-sensei and Kushina-nee had named Jiraiya-sama Naruto’s godfather, but even then, ultimately, the Hokage had assumed custody over the child. Now that he thought about it, that was a little odd…

“Kakashi?” Sirius looked at him, worry etching deep lines into his face. “Is everything okay? Was it too personal?”

“No,” Kakashi answered immediately, appalled at the idea that Sirius might think him weak, for being unable to keep his thoughts straight after his only mildly personal question. “They wasn’t important.” But then he shook his head.

He shouldn’t talk about his father like that. He barely knew anything about his mother, but his father had been an important shinobi. Sure, he was from a minor clan, and therefore had little political influence, and that wasn’t the reason why the Hokage had been appointed as Kakashi’s godparent… But still, Sakumo Hatake was not just anybody.

His father was the White Fang. And Kakashi had disrespected his memory for too long already.

“No, I mean… They was…”

“Were,” Sirius interrupted in a low voice when Kakashi paused to look for words.

“They were… I mean… Father was important. But not… because of politics?” At the end of his explanation, his voice raised as if he was asking a question instead of explaining. He didn’t know if his attempts were at all understandable.

“Your father was important, but not politically?” Sirius asked patiently, and when Kakashi nodded, he smiled. There was something sad in the way his lips quirked. It was in his eyes. Something deeply compassionate. “What happened to him?”

Kakashi stared at him. Then he looked away. He wasn’t willing to talk about that yet. Not with Sirius, or anybody. He had never liked talking about what had happened to his father. Even with Obito; when Obito had mentioned the White Fang during their last mission together… He’d been immensely grateful that Obito had never talked about the way he’d died, but only the way he’d lived. And then Obito had gone and died, saving Kakashi and clearly… talking about it brought only bad luck.

Kakashi didn’t want to.

His dad had been the great White Fang. A shinobi of the Leaf, a legendary ninja who had been a genius among his peers. During the Second Shinobi World War, he had forever carved his name into the annals of Konoha’s history… And then he had failed a single mission and paid for it with his honor and good name. And ultimately his life…

What was there to talk about? Kakashi didn’t want to cry about it. He’d already been a chunin then, as such an adult in the eyes of his village. He had picked up the pieces after his father’s suicide, as was expected. He had buried his father and continued his job, as was expected. And when the war broke out – the one many thought his father’s actions had started – he had done his part and fought for his village, as was expected. He had done what he could to rebuild his name and his honor, as was expected.

At least so he had thought. But, of course, he had it all wrong.

His father had been a hero.

And Kakashi was the worst scum.

He knew that now, and if he regretted anything, then that he hadn’t told his father before it was too late: that he hadn’t told the White Fang, that he was a hero; that his son was proud that he had done what he did; that there was no shame in his actions, and that Kakashi was sorry that he hadn’t seen it sooner. He would have told his father that there was nothing dishonorable about saving his comrades, or if – adversely – abandoning them for the mission was the meaning of honor Kakashi didn’t want any of it.

In the eyes of many people, Kakashi knew, that was exactly what honor meant. In their eyes, Sakumo Hatake had lost his honor by abandoning the mission to save his comrades and gained it back by abandoning his son.

“I see—” Sirius said although Kakashi hadn’t said anything. He clearly wanted to add something, but instead looked down along the narrow trail. A little further ahead there was a straight horizontal cut through the meadows. A bigger road crossing their path. “I’m sorry for intruding…” And with that Sirius transformed back to his dog form.

Kakashi was thankful that Sirius didn’t pry. Still, he felt guilty for having blocked off Sirius’ attempts at bonding like that. “There’s not much to talk about.” It was a lie, of course. It wasn’t that there was nothing to talk about, there was never anybody to talk to. When his father had killed himself, the village had been happy to pretend nothing had happened. In their eyes, father had betrayed them and then paid for it with his life. The Hokage had offered his condolences but other than that, neither Kakashi nor the villagers had been keen to remember the shinobi who had killed himself after being ostracized for his decision to prioritize his comrades over his mission. Minato-sensei had only taken over as Kakashi’s teacher a few years later and by then Kakashi’s heart had already hardened and his memory of his father had been poisoned by grief and anger. Only Obito had helped him out of that hole he had dug for himself, but it was too late by then… Too late to talk about Sakumo Hatake. Kakashi’s own generation didn’t even remember him, Minato’s generation did, but they were too young and had no part in his death, most of those older than Minato didn’t want to be remembered of the past. He’d just be digging up old skeletons.

Of course, there was no response from Sirius, who was already trudging along as a dog.

**

The area where Kakashi had first woken up, was called Norfolk. Norfolk, he had found out, wasn’t so much a country but rather just a part of this nation which was much bigger and – as he was reasonably sure from the way Sirius had talked about it in some of their conversations – apparently on an island.

Norfolk had stretched from the coast in the north and northeast through small hills with meadows, fields and small patches of wood that barely deserved the name ‘forests’, interspersed by many villages – the biggest of which barely reached Konoha in size. At least that’s what Kakashi had thought until he reached the outskirts of Norwich… which had been a city as big as the capital of the Land of Fire as far as Kakashi could say. Although Norfolk was not a country by itself, Norwich still seemed a sort of capital for the area.

After that, Kakashi had within just a day marched through the region called Suffolk to the south. What he’d seen of Suffolk – staying away from busy roads, villages, and towns – had been flat green plains. Staying undetected had been hard at times – which was the reason he’d taken half the day to cross this region. This country was cultivated even to the last square meter. Wherever he was, there were the signs of people living there. Even when he avoided the towns and villages themselves, roads were made of pavement or well-kept gravel trails, there were gardens and huge farms and he had run past quite a few paddocks for horses. At one time, he’d even turned around to avoid a flock of sheep.

Now apparently – both the street signs and Sirius had told Kakashi so – they were in an area called Essex. Now, the land was just flat. Flat flat flat. No place to hide, no place to walk around unseen. Whatever small hills they found he was half-certain were artificial. He would have liked talking more to Sirius, to improve his English, but after only a short walk they left the small artificial hill that had given them protection, and now… It seemed even avoiding the villages, walking across these endless plains of farmland, any person walking across this flat land could be seen sticking out of the landscape from a mile away.

They just passed a city called Chelmsford, when Kakashi decided it was time to rest again or Sirius would once more overexert himself. It wasn’t getting dark yet, but it would soon, and Kakashi worried, that as they came closer to London it would get harder to find a safe spot for a camp. He still couldn’t imagine it… Five Million.

Instead of hiding in a patch of forest or between hills, Kakashi decided to sneak into an empty building of red brick. It was just a one-story building, and he assumed it was an old factory or maybe a warehouse. In any case, it wasn’t in use and stood empty. There was a small guardhouse towards the main road, with a slim man inside, keeping an eye on the complex. However, he only looked towards the main road and – Kakashi noted – seemed to be far more interested in the crossword in his newspaper than his job. It was easy for Sirius to quickly transform and climb over a wall, onto the premises. Once on the premises, the backdoor wasn’t even locked.

Sirius seemed nervous but also glad to be inside. The weather promise to take a turn for the worst that night. The convict’s eyes were shifting through the big hall they were in, towards the main door.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Sirius mumbled. “If we get caught… I can turn, but you…”

Kakashi gave a half-hearted shrug. At worst, they’d only find a stray dog here. The more time he spent here the more confident he was, that he could hide from the people in this country. At least from the so-called muggles… He eyed Sirius. He wasn’t sure about the wizards yet.

“You think you’ll get away with it, 'cause you’re a kid?” Sirius asked. He smirked as he said it as if he remembered something funny. He didn’t elaborate, though.

“Do you.-.?” Kakashi tried to start a different conversation – one he was curious about for a while now. However, the words failed him.

“Do I… what?” Sirius asked with a frown.

“With magic…” Kakashi frowned still lacking a way to explain it. He tried to gesture with his hands. “Poof,” he opened up one hand, “poof!” He closed the hand and opened the other on the other side of his head.

Sirius looked utterly confused. “If I can… poof with magic?” He snickered a little.

Kakashi glared at him, frustrated with the lack of understanding. “From one place to somewhere else – poof.”

“Ha!” Sirius barked in laughter. Then he snapped his mouth shut, trying to muffle the noise. He threw a wary glance to the front door. “Teleport? You mean if I can teleport?”

Kakashi shrugged, because… How would he know if ‘teleport’ was what he wanted to ask about?

“Disappearing from one place and reappearing somewhere else,” Sirius tried again and this time Kakashi nodded, though he didn’t know the words ‘disappear’ and ‘reappear’, but it sounded like that might be what he had meant. “Yes, I can. I mean, not now without my wand. But if I ever get my wand back…” His voice trailed off then. Kakashi had already realized that losing this wand-thing had been a blow to Sirius that he didn’t like talking about.

“How does it work?”

Sirius opened his mouth, was just about to say something when he closed it again. Curiously, Kakashi noted he was grinning from ear to ear, but he didn’t explain what made him so happy. “I don’t know actually. It feels like being pressed through a tube, and then you’re somewhere else…” His forehead furrowed in thought.

“A tube?” Kakashi repeated. “like…” he formed a tiny hole with his thumb and index finger.

“Yes, like that.”

Kakashi wondered if that meant something. Was this odd tube-like feeling just the high velocity from traveling through space in such a short time or was it another dimension that the wizards traveled through to get somewhere else? “And other…worlds?” Again, he was unhappy with his lacking vocabulary.

Sirius looked at him confused. “What do you mean other worlds?”

“Can you travel to other worlds?”

Again, there was a grin on Sirius’ face. It looked oddly proud, Kakashi thought. Approving. “I don’t quite understand what you mean,” Sirius admitted. Then, however, something sparked in his eyes as if he had remembered something. “You mean like… traveling to other planets? Or other dimensions? Like they do in these muggle comic books sometimes?”

Planets, dimensions… comic… Kakashi had no idea what any of that meant. “What books?” he asked confused.

“Comic books,” Sirius cried out. He looked almost stupidly excited now. “I bought them as a teenager, whenever I was in muggle London. Mom would hate them. Sometimes Peter brought some to Hogwarts after sum—” Sirius stopped short. At once, all mirth left him. Where his eyes had lit up with excitement and nostalgic joy just moments ago, suddenly all life drained out of them. He stared at Kakashi, then he turned away staring at his hands. Kakashi saw him blink rapidly. “Anyway…,” Sirius coughed, his voice sounded weak and raspy as if he were close to tears. “Ahm… It’s a style of book muggles use. With images… It’s not important.”

“What are planets and dimensions?” Kakashi asked not wanting to linger on the whole comic thing after it had so clearly touched a sore spot for Sirius.

“Yeah, right,” Sirius visibly perked up, but it was only with effort, grief still straining his voice and the easy excitement hadn’t returned into his eyes. “Planets are… like this, this is earth. The globe. And then there is the moon. And beyond that, there are other planets. Like Jupiter and Uranus.” Sirius stopped there. His lips twitched as if he had remembered an old joke, but now couldn’t see the fun in it anymore. “That’s planets. Some think, there might be some planets out there, outside of our solar system that are inhabited.”

It got really confusing for Kakashi then. He could follow Sirius all the way past when he mentioned the moon, but then, he quickly lost himself in all those new words.

“Dimensions are like… when, let’s say you believe there’s a different world like ours that exists parallel to this, in a different dimension.” Maybe it was the lack of complicated vocabulary that helped Kakashi understand this definition far better than the one before.

“That… Can you use that? Travel to dimensions?”

Sirius thought about it for a while. For too long, Kakashi feared. If wizards could use interdimensional travel, surely, they would know about it. But the fact that he had to think for so long… Didn’t he know how his own magic worked? Was it so intuitive for him, that he could use magic without ever thinking about the technicalities – like asking himself if that ‘tube’ was a dimension or just the feeling of velocity?

“I don’t think so,” Sirius said after a while. “I mean, I couldn’t think of any spell that would teleport me into a different dimension. But I never really tried.”

“What if…?” Kakashi thought about how to phrase his next question. “What if dimensions are not whole worlds. But small. Just… things that overlap in space or time? Or routes you take to get from one place to somewhere else.”

Sirius stared at him. Then after a while, he blinked. “That was… Your English got a lot better!” Then he shook his head actually thinking about his question. Kakashi could see the wheels spin. “Well, I guess... You’re asking whether Apparating – uh, teleporting I mean – is a form of hopping from place to place through a dimension. But I don’t…Magic is not that technical. The tube-like feeling is from the spinning movement. It makes people feel nauseated. It’s not an actual tube.” Kakashi was disappointed. “But maybe… maybe there are other things. We can hide things in space with magic.”

Sirius said this last part as if it was natural.

“Explain.”

“We can hide buildings, and entire streets overlapping with the muggle world. We can make things be much bigger from the inside than the outside. Like it might just look like a regular bag, but inside it might be as big as a three-room flat.” Sirius gestured with his hands as he spoke, showing the size of a small purse and then gesticulating widely to encompass the entire room around them.

To Kakashi that sounded a lot like his own storage seal. With his own technique, Kakashi was creating and using miniature pocket dimensions, and apparently there was something similar in the magical world. That was somewhere to start. If both the shinobi world and this magical world knew a form of dimensional travel, was there a chance that somehow by chance they had accessed the same dimension and thus connected their worlds?

As a theory, Kakashi decided that it held some merit, although it opened up a whole different set of questions. Like: Kakashi didn’t remember using any jutsu – never mind one that would allow him to travel through dimensions. Had he used his summoning to reverse summon himself to this odd place? He somehow doubted it. His summoning was very specific in which dimensions it could access. It allowed traveling strictly between the shinobi world and the ninken’s Kennels and no other dimension. And the Kennels couldn’t be accessed by anybody who hadn’t signed the contract with his ninken. So, how would someone in the magical world access it and somehow pull Kakashi through? Speaking of which, who even would have done that. Kakashi hadn’t woken up close to another wizard that might have accessed whichever dimension he might have traveled through to pull Kakashi into this world…

He still didn’t know enough, Kakashi decided. He needed more information. And – he realized – it was difficult prying for information without telling Sirius what he needed exactly. Kakashi looked at Sirius, contemplating. The other man was waiting patiently for him to say something. Should he tell him?

But how would he even phrase that? Would Sirius believe him or think he was making something up? And what about Kakashi’s decision to keep his true identity a secret? No, he should wait a little longer. He had only started to grasp the concept of this ‘magic’. In a few days, maybe he’d be able to solve his issues all on his own. Then he could help Sirius catch the rat and go back home as soon as he was done here. There was no rush. They were still a long journey away from this Hogwarts school – If the rat even was in Hogwarts.

And before that, Kakashi had no intent to leave anyway.

Chapter Text

It was still cloudy and dark outside when Sirius woke up. Kakashi was already awake, leaning against the wall flicking through one of the newspapers he kept from the first days of their journey. Sirius’ own face scowled down at him from the front page.

That’s right, Sirius thought with trepidation.

As he stood up, he felt his limbs and back ache. He was used to sleeping on the hard ground, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel the pain in his joints. In comparison to this harsh concrete floor, the earlier nights on soft forest ground in his dog form had been comfortable. He immediately regretted that he hadn’t turned into his dog form for the night. As a human, sleeping on hard surfaces was much less comfortable.

He glanced at Kakashi. He couldn’t complain, Kakashi did that too. And he did it for Sirius. Unlike Sirius, Kakashi could sleep wherever he wanted – or at least he could ask for help and surely there were institutions taking care of stranded children…

Once I’m gone, Kakashi won’t have to worry about that anymore, he knew, but although he knew that was the only right course of action, the trepidation didn’t leave him.

“I won’t turn again,” Sirius said his voice quiet, “once we get close to London.” He made a vague gesture. “It isn’t safe with so many people.”

“You said before,” Kakashi said putting the newspaper away and turning towards Sirius.

“Right…” It felt like a goodbye to Sirius. It was goodbye. They would spend all day together, but it was unlikely they would talk again. “I just… want to thank you.”

Kakashi looked at him as if he didn’t expect Sirius’ gratitude. To him, Sirius feared, it surely felt as if Sirius was using him, forcing him into this position. Thanking Kakashi for it now, would seem like irony. But Sirius’ gratitude was real. He owed this kid more than he could ever pay him back.

You can’t pay him back anything. You have nothing to give, and once he’s back to Japan, even if a miracle happened and you get your name cleared… What are the chances you’ll ever meet him again?

But he wouldn’t say this to Kakashi. What a way to terrify him! The convicted mass murderer wants to know where you live, so he can send his thank-you-note later.

Kakashi’s single eyebrow furrowed a little. His eyes shifted away as if he didn’t know what to do with Sirius’ open gratitude. “The mission isn’t complete.”

Sirius was rather confused at that. “Mission?” he asked, shortly distracted from the sense of loss he felt at the idea of being alone again soon.

“Mission,” Kakashi repeated. “Killing the rat.”

Sirius understood then. “It’s more… a goal?” Maybe if he had contact with more people, Kakashi could talk to in London, the boy would get a better handle on the language. He was already getting really good but sometimes his choice of words didn’t quite fit.

At that Kakashi grabbed the newspaper he had put aside earlier. “Mission,” he said, pointing at an article about an interview with a scientist about some muggle space mission called Galileo.

“Yes,” Sirius said, “I guess you could use mission, but that makes it sound rather militaristic… or well,” he gestured towards the article and gave a half-hearted shrug. “Official. But yes, I guess you could say, I’m on a mission.” He smiled a little. It sounded right.

Kakashi stared at him. His single eye revealed little of what he thought, but Sirius had the distinct feeling, that he was talking too much. Sirius chuckled a little embarrassed. Then the boy put the paper away again. “Is it your first time?”

“My first…,” he stumbled over the word, “mission?” Sirius guessed it was a good word to describe what he had done for the order. “No, I told you of the war. I went on missions for… well for my side.” As gleeful as he felt revealing all of the secrets of the magical world to this boy just to spite Fudge and the ministry, the same was not true for the order. It was a secret organization. If the boy knew too much about that, it might even put him at risk if Voldemort should ever return.

“I mean killing.”

The way Kakashi’s voice didn’t even change the tone at the word gave Sirius the chills. The way he said it… It was not the only time Sirius noted these particularities. When he used the words ‘murder’ or ‘war’, he remained similarly calm and unfazed. Sirius was reasonably sure that it was because these words were still new for Kakashi. He knew what they translated to in his own language, but he still just thought of them as words, didn’t associate them with the evil they described.

“Did you kill before?” Kakashi asked again.

Stuck on the way the words came out in a monotone drawl, Sirius only registered the question now.

“No!” His answer came hastily, loud with desperation in his words. He had told Kakashi, that he hadn’t. Had Kakashi not believed him? Why would he? “I didn’t! Kakashi, I… I know you have no reason to believe me, but… I would never…” But that was a lie wasn’t it? He had already told Kakashi that he wanted to kill Peter. “I mean Peter is… Pe-Peter is different.”

Kakashi blinked slowly as if he had trouble understanding Sirius’ answer. Sirius feared it wasn’t due to the language barrier. “Because he killed a friend?” He finally asked his eye narrowing a little.

“Yes! Yes,” Sirius felt almost relieved as he agreed. “He betrayed his best friends, killed them. So, he deserves it.” Something in Kakashi’s eye made Sirius desperate. It was big and wide now, brightened almost to a translucent grey. There was pain there, that Sirius couldn’t place. But he had to believe Sirius! “But I wouldn’t… I’m not a killer. I wouldn’t do that to…” But all his words sounded empty even to him. How could he proclaim his plan to murder somebody in one sentence and then say that he wasn’t a killer and wouldn’t murder? How would anybody believe that?

“Why?” Kakashi asked, but the question was quiet, almost lost to Sirius. He barely even heard him.

Why what? It didn’t make sense to Sirius, and as he failed to answer, Kakashi didn’t repeat it as if he regretted having asked in the first place. Or maybe, as if he had chosen the wrong word and realized that now.

“You have to believe me, please,” Sirius continued after a moment. In London, he’d leave the boy with the police or maybe the embassy, and then… “When we’re in London, they’ll tell you otherwise. They’ll tell you all sorts of stories, I’m sure. But they’re not true! You… You have to—” But then Sirius stopped and retreated into himself. No… Kakashi didn’t have to do anything. He couldn’t demand this after everything the boy had already done for him. He couldn’t force him to believe Sirius. If everything went as planned, as soon as the boy was safely back home, Sirius's guilt or innocence would be of little consequence to Kakashi.

“We should walk,” Kakashi declared after a moment of silence, standing up ready to move.

Yes, Sirius thought, before he transformed into his dog form one final time before they would reach London. This was goodbye.

**

After Chelmsford, the area they walked through was more and more populated. Small villages followed one after the other, separated only by short stretches of fields. The traffic too increased. In fact, it increased so much, that after only an hour, Kakashi thought there was little point in avoiding the main roads as he had done the days before. In fact, especially as they got closer to this five-million-megacity, it probably made sense to start hiding in crowds rather than avoid people entirely.

They soon reached a town called Ingatestone. They hadn’t eaten yet, so Kakashi used some of the money he had left to buy them a late breakfast at a bakery. A few people asked Kakashi where he came from, and if he was alone. By now, Kakashi had enough practice in the language, that he could easily tell them, that he was just on a tour with his dog, coming from Chelmsford. They thought it was a little far, so Kakashi decided, in the next village, he’d tell them, he’d started in Ingatestone.

However, he missed the point when they left Ingatestone. He knew, he must have left the town already. It was surely four miles since they had entered Ingatestone, and now he stood in front of a town sign, telling him he was entering a town called ‘Brentwood’. But all the way, when before towns and villages were always separated by fields and farms, now, there wasn’t a single stretch of road without buildings flanking it on both sides.

The houses were spread far, with big premises, not quite urban spacing… but still… They weren’t even in London yet, and already there were so many people living here. He was sure he could have fit the entire population of Konoha into the buildings here, and they hadn’t even entered the capital yet. Brentwood, he quickly noted, wasn’t even a village anymore.

He walked past rows of brick buildings, with neat front lawns, gardens in the back, cars standing on driveways in front of the houses. There were children playing outside, running across the roads kicking a ball, the way Kakashi only remembered from his very earliest days in the academy. There were small parks with more children and families, old people taking walks, and others taking their dogs out.

“Wow! That’s a huge dog!” A boy yelled as he came running out from the driveway his ball forgotten. “So cool!” Kakashi’s instincts flared up in alarm, as he saw the kid run up to him, yelling. The boy dashed right at him, and for a second, Kakashi considered kicking him away, not sure, what the kid wanted, then he saw the broad grin directed at Sirius, and Kakashi realized the child meant no harm. He immediately retreated a step.

Shit, he’d been about to… This was just a kid, and Kakashi might not like people rushing right at him, but if he hadn’t caught himself in time, he might have killed the boy. How old was he? Twelve? Old enough to be a genin, sure, but in this world… In this world, time worked differently, children grew up differently.

This was just a boy… not like Kakashi, not a trained killer. What would Sirius say if he knew?

It was something, Kakashi had mulled over for the entire day. The way the man had reacted when Kakashi asked him if he had killed before… It was the first time, Kakashi truly understood. Killing was seen as something evil and vile – and of course, it was. Even in Kakashi’s world, civilians saw it as dirty business but at least acknowledged that at times, it had to be done, but in this world… In this world…

Was that, what it meant to be at peace? If this country was at peace there was no need for killers? He finally understood. In this world, there was no need for shinobi, no need for silent assassins and trained killers. In this world, if Sirius knew… There was no need for people like Kakashi. In fact, there was no place for him here. To these people, Kakashi would be a monster. He had a purpose now. He would help Sirius find the rat – and then he would have to leave because there was no point in him being here. None of his skillsets would lend anything of value to this country where people like him were not needed.

Even in Konoha, Kakashi often felt like a pariah. The son of the White Fang, the genius who had finished the academy at age five, the scum who had let all his comrades die, the friend killer… There was a darkness in him, that was foreign even to most shinobi. But in Konoha there was a place for people like him: the ANBU black ops, an elite unit of killers and assassins, who were the ultimate, sharpest tool for their village, forsaking themselves for the sake of the Leaf.

Here, however, there was no place like ANBU. No place for Kakashi. If Sirius knew about his deeds, he’d be appalled… There was nothing good Kakashi had to offer.

Which begged the question… He had always thought that war was inevitable, and shinobi were a reaction to that. But maybe it was the other way round. Maybe war wasn’t inevitable, and it was shinobi – people like him – who caused it. It was the question of the chicken or the egg. If in a peaceful society, like this one, there was no need for shinobi, didn’t shinobi have a vested interest in creating war, or else become irrelevant?

“Hey, hey! Can I play with your dog? What’s its name? Are you listening?” He had missed the first half of the boy’s barrage of questions. Although asking if he could play with Sirius, he was already scratching him behind the ears, wildly ruffling his fur. Sirius seemed to enjoy the attention. The rumbling in his chest made it obvious.

“Uh… It’s—It’s Shaggy.” Kakashi momentarily almost forgot the English language.

“That’s funny,” the kid commented fisting his hands into shaggy black fur. “It fits. And you? What’s your name? Are you playing ninja, that mask is so cool? Where did you get it?”

Kakashi froze as he heard the word. Ninja… It was the same word, pronounced differently, but of course, he knew exactly what it meant. Ninja? Was it so obvious, what he was? Panicked he tried to school his features. Were there shinobi in this world after all? Shinobi skilled enough that he hadn’t seen any, yet a mere child knew about them! A shiver ran down his spine in alarm. He hadn’t noticed anything! How could he have missed that? Not even his instincts had warned him. Even now, as he warily sharpened his senses, cast out his chakra to find anybody hiding in the vicinity who might already be on his tail, he couldn’t find anybody. Children playing, families, teenagers and young people lounging around, elderly people enjoying the sun in their gardens… Dogs, cats, birds in trees… No shinobi.

“How did you guess?” Kakashi asked with a light smirk, masking his rising panic in nonchalant humor.

“The mask.” The boy giggled. “I wanted to be a ninja too at Halloween last year, but then I was a pirate.”

Kakashi frowned, not understanding a word. The boy had been a pirate last year? He didn’t look like a hardened criminal.

“Halloween?” he asked, hoping if he found out the meaning of that word, he could make more sense of what the kid said.

The boy however frowned at him. “Yeah. Last year. What did you go as? Did you go around for trick or treat?” He continued cuddling Sirius, now he put both arms around the dog and hugged him tight, scratching his back. Sirius gave a short woof, and then pushed the boy over with a gentle nudge and started tickling him with his snout. The boy laughed lying on the pavement.

“I didn’t go ‘trick or treat’” Kakashi said, deciding that was safer than having to pretend that he knew what that was.

“Boring!” The boy exclaimed, but it was difficult to understand with the way he laughed. “I bet you think you’re too old for it! My sister says she’s too old for it now, but she’s only fifteen. Anyway, why are you dressed up as a ninja now?”

Kakashi scoffed. Dressed up? Wait, dressed up? If he translated that correctly… did the boy think he was just playing at being a ninja but not actually being a ninja. “I’m not ‘dressed up’.” He gave the boy a mockingly enraged glare. “I am ninja.”

“Yeah right,” the boy rolled his eyes. “Anyway, what’s with that weird accent… Oh, I know! Cause you’re Japanese!”

Kakashi scowled. How had the kid figured that out so quickly? In Cromer, adults hadn’t even figured out the language he was using on their first attempt and Kakashi had been somewhat proud of his success in learning the English language. Was his accent that bad? “How do you know?”

“Cause you’re a ninja, stupid!” The boy laughed. Kakashi decided against feeling insulted. “Ninja are Japanese right?”

Oh… Oh! Apparently, in this world’s Japan, they knew ninja too, but not here in England? It made sense, he realized, as his kunai knives also seemed to resemble tools from Japanese history. “How do you know I’m not an English ninja?” Kakashi asked, fishing for more information.

The boy shook his head. “’Cause there aren’t any. Only Halloween, of course.” Again, that word. “Halloween, I’ll be a ninja.”

“Dress up as ninja, you mean?” Kakashi asked to make sure he now understood it correctly.

The boy pouted finally freeing himself of Sirius's tickling wet snout. “Yeah, dress up.” He seemed to deflate a little. “Anyway, where are you going?” He looked down the road as if he hoped Kakashi would tell him, that he and ‘Shaggy’ just lived around the corner.

“London.”

The boy sputtered. “London? On foot?” He looked almost disgusted at the idea. “Well, have fun.”

Kakashi nodded. He was about to continue their journey when he thought about something. “Hey, kid. What’s your name?”

“Charlie!” The boy turned back around with a grin, already walking back to his house.

Charlie… He had read that name quite a few times in the newspapers, a common name, he guessed.

Only when Sirius barked and nudged his hand with his snout, did Kakashi continue their journey.

**

Kakashi felt uneasy. Sirius was sure of that. As they first entered Brentwood, he was still alright. The first part of the town was a suburban living area, and Kakashi seemed just fine with that. However, as they walked more into Brentwood proper, reaching the town center, things changed. It was a sunny afternoon and people were out and about filling the squares, streets, shops, and cafés. Kakashi didn’t seem to feel comfortable with so many people around.

Sirius had thought he’d be the one to have problems with the denser population close to London, and in fact, he was terrified by the idea of the city, with wizarding London so close-by… But instead, it was Kakashi whose eyes flitted between crowds looking at everybody, glaring into shops and cafés as if he expected to be shot at. He didn’t once slow down his step, nor did he change path, even when they walked past a group of leather-jacket-wearing youths who Sirius might have felt a kinship with in his own youth, but who he knew seemed often threatening to other muggles. Kakashi didn’t seem at all worried by them. Yet he jumped and glared at random shadows. Sirius could smell the unease rolling off the boy.

It was unnerving, even more so, as Sirius’ senses sent him contradictory messages. His snout was certain that Kakashi was afraid, but nothing Kakashi did confirmed that. Sure, his eyes were quickly moving in every direction, but that might also be from curiosity. Kakashi’s shoulders stayed comfortably slouched, his hands were in his pockets and whenever he met somebody’s eyes, he showed his gentle eye-smile. He looked completely at ease. But he didn’t smell like it.

Kakashi had been surprised at London’s population and even stunned when he saw Norwich, Sirius remembered. Maybe he really lived in a tiny town in Japan and had never traveled into Tokyo, Osaka, or another one of the big cities. Maybe this was really all new to him. Was he afraid of crowds? The muggles had a word for that, he knew… In any case, if that was the case, going to London might have been the worst idea Sirius could have had. If the boy suffered a panic attack in London…

…that would only call attention to us, a pathetically coward part of him thought. I’d have to run.

No! If the boy has a panic attack, you’ll help. He demanded of himself. After all, he did for you! You’ll make sure he’s alright!

The ministry won’t care if I get caught helping a kid. They’ll put me back in Azkaban regardless.

If you’ve sunk so low, you’d abandon a friend – the only one who showed kindness towards you in years – you’d deserve to be there! You will not abandon him!

I couldn’t live with myself…

It was already hard enough, living with himself as it was. But going back to Azkaban before he had killed Peter… Harry would be in danger. If he had to decide between Kakashi and Harry. Abandoning Harry would mean failing Lily and James all over again!

**

Kakashi didn’t really have a concept in his mind, how to fit five million people into a single city, so as they closed in on London with every step, he didn’t know what to expect. It became clear very soon, that getting into London meant following huge roads with a lot of traffic through a number of already big enough towns, that shifted seamlessly one into the other. He started developing an eye for it.

In the shinobi world, a town was a settlement surrounded by nature, here a town was a settlement surrounded by other settlements. Just outside the towns, there were some short stretches of greenery, maybe a park, maybe a small paddock. Mostly, however, these in-between-town areas that marked the ending of one and the beginning of the next town were dominated by industry and big shops. He spotted quite a few places selling these stinking cars, one that sold gardening huts and furniture, a big parking lot, and one that sold gravestones.

The stones here looked different, big junks of rock jutting out of the earth in roughly rectangular shapes. Still, the purpose seemed clear enough. He thought of the Memorial Stone and the Konoha graveyard and how he hadn’t paid his respect to his former teammates in over a week now. He hadn’t visited Kushina-nee and Minato-sensei’s graves at all since the funeral. If they missed him, he wondered.

But no, he reminded himself. They were dead. They couldn’t miss anybody. It was the other way around. He missed them.

Finally, Kakashi decided it was enough. They had gone from house to house, from settlement to settlement. He had followed quiet town roads and then the highly trafficked main road to get to their destination quicker, but it was already getting dark and after their third major roundabout, he found a small park area and decided that they could sleep there unperturbed rather than having to sleep on the street or having to ask somebody for shelter. Sirius didn’t turn, so their evening was quiet. They ate something, what Kakashi had bought at a restaurant by the name KFC, which was apparently just a lot of chicken with some potato side dish he hadn’t eaten before. It was terribly greasy he thought, so he left most of it for Sirius.

Kakashi was getting short on money, he realized as he counted the remaining 24 £. He didn’t actually look forward to selling a lot of his gear, although he remembered the man in Aylsham telling him, that there would be bigger vendors over in London, so maybe he could get more money out of a single kunai.

Although Kakashi missed the English lessons and conversation with Sirius somewhat, he wasn’t bored. He had lived through much worse. Guarding some spoiled prince for a week from the shadows… that had been boring. Having to wait for days until an informant sent the necessary intel to continue with their mission… that was boring! Enjoying a warm night out with dog-Sirius wagging his tail softly against the ground while Kakashi read in the old newspaper again, wasn’t boring in comparison. Despite the lack of conversation, he wasn’t even alone.

**

The next morning the weather had gotten even warmer. The air was almost uncomfortably dry and hot. Kakashi had woken up to the abysmal stench of cars, exhaust fumes, and burned rubber. It itched in his nose, almost hurt. He blocked off the chakra flow into his nose. Traffic stank so badly, that he preferred smelling nothing at all. His nose was still sensitive, though, and he was thankful for his mask. He wondered how Sirius could take it.

They continued their journey without delay. He felt rather amused, even gave a short snort, as he noticed that they were following a road called ‘Main Road’ although being clearly not the main road, as it was only one lane in each direction and nowhere near as highly trafficked as the one he had traveled before.

It was only a few hours later, that Kakashi realized that all this, all these villages, towns, and cities that got bigger and bigger the further he went, were actually part of London. Of that metropolitan region, Sirius had mentioned. And then he started to understand. He had walked the better part of two days through town after town after town and hadn’t seen forest nor fields or farms at all. And he still hadn’t even reached the center of the city.

That was how one could fit five million people into a single place. This area was huge.

In a place called Ilford, he first noted that the buildings were getting bigger. And not just the two- or three-story buildings he had already seen before, or even some higher multi-story apartment buildings the way he knew them from Konoha as well. Here suddenly there were buildings reaching into the sky. They rivaled the Hokage building and the church towers he had seen in other English towns before, only there were a lot of them.

And it stank! By all the Hokage it stank abysmally. His senses were tingling, his instincts screaming and his nose hurting despite not even concentrating any chakra into his senses. It was loud: incessant honking, yelling and the noises from multiple construction sites causing a constant droning in his head that made him feel nauseated. And there were so many people. And they were aggressive.

Screaming at each other to go faster, go slower, speak louder, stop, drive, watch themselves. Any minute Kakashi felt like any one of them might turn around and deck him in the face just because. Multiple times he had to dodge some cyclist or careless pedestrian, or they’d run right through him. None of them knew or seemed to care about what personal space was.

And that was dangerous! It was dangerous with him because he was dangerous. Overall, there weren’t more people here than in the busiest areas of Konoha, yet at least the civilians from Konoha were taught not to recklessly run into shinobi. One could never know how they would react. Even among his fellow shinobi Kakashi had a bit of a reputation and most kept a safe distance, with the only exception being Guy, who would still try to sneak up on him. Of course, there was a difference between Guy and these Londoners. Guy would survive Kakashi’s instinctive counterattack. He could take an elbow in the gut and knew what to do if he suddenly found himself in a chokehold. Guy knew how to calm Kakashi down again. Guy knew Kakashi. And Kakashi knew Guy.

These, however, were strangers. Their scents were foreign and overwhelming, their language still strange. And so, although he knew they were a peaceful people, his instincts yelled ‘danger’ and ‘enemy’ every time they came too close to him.

He had to get a grip on himself!

He shoved his fists into his pockets, tried to relax his body. If he could just get the stress out of his shoulders if he could walk on his flat feet instead of the balls of his feet always ready to jump… Calm, calm… He had to control himself. Had to make sure he wouldn’t hurt anybody. With closed eyes, Kakashi missed the moment they entered the City of London.

Chapter Text

Sirius was nervous walking through London. He suspected wizards around every corner, aurors waiting for him. Even the muggles were on the lookout for him. Although he knew that they couldn’t possibly know about his animagus form part of him feared it still. Part of him was almost convinced they knew all his secrets and he walked right into a trap. He hadn’t been that close to the ministry ever since his brief stint in the ministry holding cell before they had shipped him off to Azkaban. Getting so close to it again so shortly after his escape wasn’t his plan.

Still, Sirius loved this city. He grew up here, and although he always hated the way he was raised, had few fond memories of his childhood and had left his family – and London – as early as he possibly could – at the age of 16 – he had always loved this city. He was, after all a Londoner. In his adulthood, the few years he had lived as a free man, he had moved back here, rented a small apartment in muggle London, and painted the town red. He’d lived the bohemian life in the late Seventies. He had listened to muggle rock music, danced in clubs and bars, bought his bike – magically tuned of course, which wasn’t quite legal. The muggle youth had felt daring and rebellious, striking out against their parents and their boring conventions, and although he was no muggle, he had felt a certain kinship with them.

Whenever he thought back about his years before Azkaban, he would call his time in Hogwarts easily the best time in his life. The time right after Hogwarts, however, had all the potential to be even better. And then the war escalated. Then the McKinnon’s died, and Benji Fenwick and the Prewett-twins. Then Lily and James were murdered. Then Azkaban.

Yet now, a decade later he was back here. But there was no pretending. Time had moved on. His friends stayed dead and London had changed.

It still smelled familiar. Fewer stinking factories, but more traffic, but still. The pavement smelled the same. The summer heat still reflected off the street; the air hung stuck between asphalt and brick walls, dry and perfectly still. The buildings still looked the same although there were a few new ones and although the names on the shops were different now. But it seemed cleaner. London as he remembered it, was a wild place full of the arts, but also of street gangs, trash, and smog. Now instead it was a busy place, with people in suits hurrying from A to B and no time to linger in between. He was looking out for leather-clad gangs lounging around corners and found none. The youth wore different clothes now and he could hardly make them out in the constant traffic. He felt no kinship to them anymore.

There were fewer graffiti’s on the walls as if the city paid to have them removed, advertisements were everywhere and even the political banners, slogans, and flags that people had hung around their houses… half of them he didn’t even know what they were about anymore.

Still, this was London, and Sirius was a Londoner, so despite the changes to London and despite the danger of being here… this was home.

He whacked his tail happily as they crossed a bridge over well-known train tracks and passed a bar he had gone to in his youth. For a moment, he forgot all about the teenager traveling with him, and followed the well-known path up to the entry, sniffing the single step leading to the door. Could he recognize any of the scents? Were there still some of the people he had partied with so many years ago, that might still frequent this place? Was it still the same owner?

But it all smelled different.

And then, everything happened very quickly! He heard the rattling from the oncoming train already before it arrived. Felt the vibration of the earth in his paws. The trains had evolved too, he realized, as it closed in with unheard-of speed. And then the whole bridge rattled, there was the sound of metal ringing, and it had passed by right under them.

Then a loud honking, the squeaking of tires. An odd sound, like the chirping of birds, for a split second he saw his own shadow flicker in blueish light. Sirius whirled around, to see what was happening:

There stood Kakashi panting heavily in the middle of the road. He had gone pale, hands pulled from his pocket in a gesture as if he wanted to punch through the hood of the car that had come to a screeching halt right in front of him.

How did he get there? Sirius was certain, that Kakashi had been right beside him just a second ago. Admittedly, he hadn’t looked out for Kakashi, forgetting all about him at the fond memory of a bar he had liked to frequent during the best years of his life… but he was still certain. Kakashi had been right there. He’d been right next to Sirius all day. How did he get into the middle of the street? And why?

Even more so, what did he think, raising his palm against the hood of a car? Jumping into traffic was dangerous, Sirius knew at least that much.

He barked loudly, trying to get Kakashi’s attention. All around them, cars had come to a sudden halt, now honking wildly. Sirius barked again, to tell Kakashi to get off the road.

The boy turned to him. He was still so pale. His eyes were impossibly wide, blinking slowly at Sirius as if he didn’t know himself what was happening.

“Bloody hell! Kid, get off the road!” The drive of the black Ford that almost run him over, leaned out of his window, waving Kakashi off the road. “Look out, damn it!”

Kakashi stared at the man, then he finally retracted his hand that was still harmlessly hovering in the air…

And then he was gone.

Just gone! Vanished, out of sight. Sirius didn’t even hear the typical bang of an apparition. It was perfectly quiet. And where Kakashi had just stood, there was only a small cloud of dust and a few leaves settling as if a wind had rushed through the street.

Shit! That was magic! He was certain. And Kakashi was a teenager, doing this right in front of muggles. It was only a matter of time until the ministry got wind of it, and then this whole place would be swarming with aurors. They’d look for Kakashi, fine him for Underage Sorcery, and for breaking the Statute of Secrecy. The ministry had its ways… They would find Kakashi and with Kakashi, they would find Sirius.

He had to get away from here!

And with that final thought, Sirius turned to run. He ran back over the bridge, took a sharp turn away from the busy road, and then jumped over a short wall, onto a small parking lot. He pressed his body against the wall, and finally caught his breath, panting.

Only then, when his heart rate eventually calmed down again, and his rational thought caught up to him, did he realize that he had done exactly what he had told himself he wouldn’t do. Abandoning Kakashi in a foreign country and a foreign city, one he found obviously discomfortingly big, with a panic attack … or whatever had happened? But that must have been it, Sirius assumed. He couldn’t explain it any other way. Kakashi might have panicked at the sound of the oncoming train. Had he never seen a train before? – if he’d never been in a real city, that was certainly possible. Or was it just the onslaught of impressions overwhelming his senses?

It didn’t matter what it was, Sirius decided. Something had spooked the boy into jumping into oncoming traffic and then… disapparating.

Finally, that part too caught up to Sirius. He had apparated. Sure, there was no banging sound, sure it had looked different, but it was still magic. A different spell maybe, some form of accidental magic, but magic, nonetheless.

So, Kakashi had likely used that same method to get to England in the first place, which meant… if his accidental apparitions spread so far and wide, he could be anywhere! Was he even still in the city? Or in some other country across the world with a different language, he had to learn from scratch. Abandoned, alone, and frightened!

Sirius knew that feeling. And he didn’t wish it upon anybody. Least of all the first person who had been kind to him in over a decade.

**

He was shivering. The cold permeated through thin cotton; it made his skin rough and brittle from dryness, hurting like a thousand tiny needle pricks.

A month. Sirius was here for a month now. His tears had dried on his face, the anger had washed away, and the grief had turned in his stomach, the dementors making mourning so much more difficult. He couldn’t even think about all his good memories with James and Lily, lest the dementors would swoop down upon him, feast upon the few good things he had left in his life, and leave him with nothing but sorrow. So, he had locked those memories away, deep within him, where nobody could access them, not even he himself. It was impossible to mourn like that.

It left him with a purposeless sense of dread and exhaustion. And an impatient longing.

He wouldn’t be here long, he knew. It was just a matter of days until the ministry would see their mistake before somebody would tell them that they had put an innocent man in Azkaban. Moony could tell them – Moony knew him! Moony knew he wouldn’t do what they thought he had done. Dumbledore could tell them! Dumbledore even had the pull to get him out of this wretched place. After serving with the order for years, Dumbledore knew him well enough. The other order members did too. Even the ministry ought to know, after all, Sirius had been one of their newest recruits into the auror office, one of the most promising young trainees. During the war, Sirius had caught record numbers of death eaters at least among his peers. They knew his stance on all things pureblood, they knew his opinions of Voldemort and death eaters…

Soon, they would realize their mistake. It was just a matter of time. He knew these people and these people knew him. Currently, with Voldemort gone, there would be chaos, he assumed. Therefore, it was possible that one man would slip through the cracks. It was even understandable…

Peter. Who would have suspected Peter of all people?

Sirius tried not to think about his friend… former friend. The traitor. The name was bitter on his tongue. Peter Pettigrew… Just a month ago, he would have died for Peter, and gladly so, and now… Was Peter dead? If so, was Sirius glad about it? Had he hunted his old friend into committing suicide? Should he be glad for it? Or mourn the friend?

Thankfully, the memories of a young Peter were locked away in his mind, far away, with his memories of his other friends, of better times, when the marauders were still complete.

Soon… He told himself, soon. Today, he’d think every morning. Tomorrow, he thought just before he went to sleep. Soon, they would see their mistake.

Sirius knew!

Because he knew his friends. And they knew him. And they’d know that he’d rather forsake his life to constant torture through Voldemort than betray the people he loved most.

They knew him!

Yet ‘soon’ didn’t come. ‘Today’ nobody came to get him out of Azkaban. ‘Tomorrow’ would never be the day he waited for.

Where was Harry? James and Lily had left him in his care, and yet… How was he supposed to raise Harry if he was locked up here? It felt like failing James and Lily all over again.

To his family, Hagrid had said, to his relatives.

They had fought about that because Sirius was the only family Harry had left. His godfather. And Moony of course, but Sirius knew, that neither the ministry nor broader society would trust a werewolf with a child. Moony wouldn’t either, Sirius knew, no matter how much Sirius would trust him with Harry. But Hagrid hadn’t meant Moony. And he hadn’t meant Sirius. He’d talked about Lily’s family. Her muggle sister and her muggle husband. Sirius had met the sister only once before the marriage when Lily’s parents were still alive. After their deaths, Penny… Pe…Petunia was her name. After their parents’ deaths, Petunia had blocked any attempts to keep in contact. Even when their sons were born, Harry and … what was the boy’s name? Dave? They had never met. Petunia and her family hated magic.

And that was the family, Harry was supposed to grow up with?

No, Sirius was the rightful legal guardian, and once free of Azkaban he would fulfill this role. Not just because he owed it to Lily and James, but he owed it to Harry too. Especially Harry! He had already failed the boy enough as a godfather by missing this first month… Never mind that it was his fault, that Lily and James…

He shouldn’t be thinking about that. Thinking about his own guilt in their deaths would drain him of all his energy, all his will to fight and hold out. Soon…

He flexed his hands, dry skin hurting with the way it stretched over his knuckles. He was sitting on stone floor, a stone wall in his back. His cell was made of nothing but stone. Only on one side, there were the iron bars through which he saw the dim corridor… more stone. It was all cold. The stone and the iron. The simple cotton prison garbs didn’t offer much protection against it.

The cold was the worst, he decided, purposefully ignoring the dementors.

Sirius listened. He listened to the noises of the prison as he did all day, every day for an entire month now. The noises of strangers breathing and crying and screaming, of them moving around in their cells, clothes brushing against stone, the thin wool slippers shuffling over the ground, people knocking against stone and bars… He kept telling himself, they were knocking. Just knocking. With knuckles dry and hurting from the cold like his own. Yet, it never sounded right. It didn’t sound like knuckles but like something heavier. And the moans he always heard after…

His mind conjured up images of people bashing their heads against the walls, but he tried to suppress them. Knocking. Just knocking.

The one thing he hoped to hear, he never heard. No steps on the corridor, nobody coming to get him out. The only things moving on the corridor were the dementors, and they moved almost soundlessly, apart from the rattling air in their lungs.

As he listened, his fingers played around with the manacles on his wrists. ‘Playing’ wasn’t the right word for it. He shifted and turned them, tried pushing them up and over his hands but they were too tight, leaving bloody trails where they scratched dry skin open. When he let go of them, the heavy iron would slip back into place, tight against his wrists, hurting where they were a little bit too tight.

Clink clink. The sound of his manacles. The chains clinking together. Another sound he had become disturbingly familiar with. Clink Clink.

Clack, clack.

He had waited so long for it, and now he almost missed it, almost mistook it for the ringing of his chains. But it wasn’t. It was the sound of hard soles on stone. A brisk pace down the corridor, two people moving next to each other, the steps only slightly out of rhythm.

Clackclack, Clackclack.

The second step like an echo to the first.

Sirius raised himself. The sound got louder. They were moving in his direction. Finally! He pushed himself up, stood on shaky feet, weak from a month of being barely fed. But when they came to take him back home, he wouldn’t be too weak to stand, he told himself. He’d walk out of this place, and he’d keep standing until he had Harry in his arms, with him in his apartment. Home.

That left another question open. Where even was home, now?

When he thought of home, he still had the image of Lily and James in his mind. Their house in Godric’s Hollow. He imagined them and Harry, but also James’ parents, who had lived there before they’d died just two years ago. That was home for Sirius. At sixteen he had left his parents’ house and moved to the Potters. Home. Remus and Peter would visit over the holidays and after Hogwarts almost every day. But now, four members of his family were dead, and Peter…

Don’t think about it! He told himself.

He couldn’t allow the dementors to smell the good memories, the image in his mind that the word ‘home’ had conjured up out of thin air. When the aurors came to take him home, he didn’t want to be the jabbering mess he was right after a dementor attack.

What would Harry think, if he saw him like that? No, he had to be strong for Harry.

Where would they even live? He doubted he still had his apartment in London, after being stuck here for a month. But even if, that place was too small to raise a child there. He could think about that later, he decided. All in due order.

First, he would get out of here.

The light was the first thing he saw. The pale shine of a Lumos charm illuminating the corridor. Shadows dancing over stone walls. It looked quite frightening, but to Sirius, it was a welcome sight. His friends finally came for him. They could have hurried a little, he thought almost jokingly.

He looked over his shoulder to the far wall. Under the tiny window high above his head, he had used a stone to scratch lines into the wall. One for each day. Thirty-seven days now. He wondered if there would be any compensation for his lost time, but truth be told, he barely cared about that, as long as he could hold Harry and see Moony within the day. Or maybe tomorrow, as it was already late evening.

He blinked against the light, as it came closer. Azkaban itself had no source of light on its own. The dementors were factually blind and didn’t need light, so, although there were torch holders all along the corridor, nobody bothered to light them up. That didn’t mean, that Azkaban was a place of perpetual darkness. There were windows, tiny barred holes in rough stone that let daylight in. It was dim by day and dark by night. This bright Lumos light hurt in his eyes, but he welcomed it, nonetheless.

People. He hadn’t actually seen other humans in weeks.

There was somebody in the cell right opposite Sirius’ but he rarely came to the bars, and even with the dim daylight the angle was so that the other prisoner had to press their face against the bars right at the corner that was closest to Sirius so that Sirius could see him at all. When Sirius had first been thrown in his cell, the other prisoner had talked to Sirius, pressed his face against the bars, so Sirius could see him. Sirius still remembered a pale face half-hidden by a shaggy grey beard. The man had mostly complained about Sirius whining, and screaming whenever Sirius had yelled into the corridor, that he wanted to talk to somebody in charge.

Once Sirius had calmed down a little, the prisoner had lost all interest in him. Now, Sirius was only certain that he hadn’t died yet because he sometimes heard his dry coughing from the other cell.

The two people now coming close to him, were harshly silhouetted against the light. For Sirius, half-blinded by the Lumos, it was difficult to make out more than dark shapes that looked vaguely humanlike.

“Can you…Can you take down the wand?” he asked, but his voice was rough and quiet, and his throat hurt from speaking just a few words. He was shocked at his own voice. It didn’t sound like him. “It’s blinding me.” He added nonetheless when they failed to follow his plea.

They stopped in front of his cell, but instead of lowering the wand, the one on the right lifted it even higher. Shone it right into Sirius’ face. Sirius ducked away from it. He raised his hands to shadow his eyes.

Clink clink. The chains jingled.

“Is that him?” An unknown voice said. Sirius didn’t even know which of the two was speaking. “Prison number 390, Cellblock D. It has to be him.”

“That’s him alright. I’d recognize him anywhere.” That voice!

“Alastor.” Sirius recognized him immediately. He put his hands down blinking against the bright light, trying to make out the face of his mentor, but it was impossible. They were still just dark and blurry shapes. “Alastor, take down the wand,” he asked again this time more casual, knowing that he spoke to a friend. When he joined the order, Alastor was already a veteran member. He had taught Sirius and his friends how to duel. He’d even suggested that Sirius could join the auror office.

“We need young blood like you, Black. The new recruits are all weaklings. They’d pee themselves at the sight of a real death eater,” he had said. Sirius still heard his gruff voice in his head. Sirius had laughed, and answered, that he’d much rather break the law than help enforcing it. He had followed the invitation anyway just half a year after James’ wedding because it felt like James was moving on with his life and Sirius thought he should do the same.

“I can’t see anything.” But again, nobody did what he asked for.

“You’re Sirius Black?” the other person asked. Sirius still couldn’t place it.

“Yeah, obviously,” Sirius responded a bit annoyed now. After all, Moody had already recognized him.

“I’m Steven Dobrint. I work for the administrative office of the Wizengamot. Here, that’s for you.”

The man held something through the bars. Sirius blinked down at it confused. It wasn’t what he had hoped for. Not a key to his shackles or the cell door. Instead, there was a white envelope, the paper clean and pristine that it seemed out of place in this dark and dirty place. It reflected the light from the wand, seemed almost like its own source of light.

“What is that?” Sirius asked confused, but he took it anyway. He turned the envelope around.

Dobrint took his hand back, finally lowering the wand a little bit, though the movement didn’t seem purposeful. “The decision is hereby hand-delivered to the addressee,” he said.

“What?” Sirius felt on edge. What was going on? They obviously weren’t taking him home. “Alastor, what is that?”

“I still can’t believe it, Black,” Alastor’s voice rumbled. There was anger in his tone. “I trusted you all this time. When Dumbledore told me, I was convinced he had it all wrong.”

Sirius shook his hand. The envelope felt useless in his hand. “What are you talking about?” he asked agitated. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I said, I’d go deliver it, ‘cause I had to look you in the eyes, but… You don’t even feel sorry, do you?”

He believed it… Sirius stared at him, now that the wand had lowered enough, he could make out Moody’s features. That wasn't anger on his face. Not just anger at least. A shiver ran down his spine. That was hatred. “Moody,” Sirius said, his voice was weak and rough from lack of water. “I didn’t do it.” He took the last half step right to the bars, stretched his hand out to grab his mentor, but both men immediately retreated backward. Sirius only grabbed empty air. “MOODY!” He yelled out.

Their wands were both raised again. Both tips pointing in his face, as if they feared his wandless attack through the bars. Sirius immediately flinched back, but he stayed close to the bars, caught halfway between trying to grab for Moody again or retreating into his cell.

“Maybe time will help you remember who your true friends were, Black,” Alastor said, his voice snide with hatred. “The ones you sold out and murdered.”

“I didn’t do it!” Sirius's voice was wobbly. “I thought you…” He’d thought Alastor had come to free him.

Alastor knew him! He’d known him for years. They’d spent days and nights hunting down death eaters. Sirius had taken more than one curse for his mentor.

“Why did you even come here if not to help me?” Sirius cried out angrily. But he knew the answer immediately. The envelope. They had come to deliver a letter. “What is that?” he asked, his voice shaky as he pressed the letter against the bars. Raised up like that, he could see the ministry insignia neatly printed on the front.

But Alastor didn’t go through the effort of explaining. His back was already to Sirius and he and Dobrint were quickly retreating taking the only source of light with them. “WAIT! MOODY!” Sirius yelled after him, letting go of the letter, to grab the bars with both hands. The iron was freezing cold in his palms. “ALASTOR! You can’t just leave me here!”

But they were gone. He rattled against the bars, and he yelled for them to come back, but then his throat gave out and he was condemned to silently stare into the dark corridor. When he turned around, the cell laid before him in darkness.

He found the envelope again where it had fallen and slid into a corner. Unable to read it until the morning, he twisted it in his fingers all night. By the time the sun went up, the formerly pristine paper was dirty with his fingerprints. He ripped it open at first light.

After the meeting with Alastor, he already knew he wouldn’t get out of Azkaban easily. They didn’t think he was innocent. So, Harry had to wait a little longer. He decided it was too early to give up. All night, he had thought up scenarios and ways to prove his innocence. In that envelope, he was sure, he’d find the court date, and then he could prepare his defense.

Just a little longer, Harry. Moony.

But when he opened the letter, there was no court date there. The only date on the official-looking document was already four days in the past. It was a short letter, followed by a long list of his supposed crimes.

By the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic under Minister Millicent Bagnold, and the British community of witches and wizards, I, Bartemius Crouch Sr., Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, hereby sentence the accused Sirius Orion Black (born 3 November 1959 in London) to imprisonment in the Wizarding Prison of Azkaban until the time of his death. In the case presented to me, there can be no doubt as to the guilt of Mr. Black regarding the crimes he is accused of (see attachment 1). The decision shall take legal effect seven days after delivery to the person or persons to whom it may concern but at the latest moment one month after publication. Complaints regarding the decision shall be made in writing to the appropriate authority. The time that Mr. Black has already spent in Azkaban shall be subtracted from his sentence according to §§ 13, 241 Wizarding Criminal Code. This decision was issued in accordance with Art. 17 of Protocol 80/12 to the Wizarding Criminal Code regarding accelerated procedure.

Signed,

Bartemius Crouch Sr.

Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Sirius’ hands were shaking as he read the decision a second and a third time. That couldn’t be right. That wasn’t right! He was innocent.

“Until the time of his death,” he had read the words so often now, he barely even noticed that he was speaking them out loud. His voice was quiet, shaking, his throat still aching from the screaming during the night. “Until the time of his death.”

Dread pooled in his stomach. Crouch… had he even looked at the supposed evidence against him? What evidence was there? Witness testimony of the muggles, before Peter had blown them up? Moony…? Had Moony testified against him, saying he was the secret keeper? Alastor had mentioned even Dumbledore… Had his fellow order members testified against him?

But they knew him!

Tears were running down his cheeks. He’d thought, he’d cried them all after Lily and James’ death, but apparently, he’d been wrong. Harry… Harry couldn’t wait that long, he thought hiccupping. Not until… until… His eyes searched the line on the paper. Until the time of his death.

No… No! Complaints. They had mentioned something about complaints. He still had a week. Seven days upon delivery. So, a week from now on. He turned the letter around, even looked through the attachment that contained a lengthy list of his crimes – things he wouldn’t do if his life depended on it. Nowhere did it say, what the ‘appropriate authorities’ were. Still, he had to try. If necessary, he would write to every single department of the ministry, until he got the right one.

For that, he had to stay calm and collected. Frantically he wiped the tears from his face and stumbled towards the bars. Rattling against iron, yelling into the corridor, he demanded to be heard. He asked for paper, ink, and quill, he asked to send a letter. He yelled into the corridor that it regarded his sentencing, that he needed to write his complaints.

Nobody listened. Nobody heard.

Just like nobody had listened all those weeks before.

The only answer he got was the screams of his fellow inmates and the dreadful inhaling sounds of the dementors.

“Please!” He begged, even as the dementors were so close that a layer of frost grew over the iron bars. “Please…” His voice was weak. “Harry…”

For a moment, he saw Harry, that bubbling little toddler staring up at him with wide green eyes, raising his arms asking to be lifted into the air. Then the color of the eyes shifted to hazel, the face matured, and he saw James, dead before him, lying discarded over the stairs in his own home. Lily dead in the nursery. Peter…

Chapter Text

It seemed wherever he was, cemeteries had an odd allure for him. When Kakashi finally calmed down enough to take note of his surroundings, he found himself in a park area with some trees, tall grass, and big square stones jutting out of the ground to mark graves and memorials. His head was aching, and he didn’t know if it was the constant noise, the stench, or the short panic that had triggered this headache. One moment he had been with Sirius on the bridge, then the whole structure below him had started rattling, and then…

He balled his fist. Almost. He had almost lost control. He had almost killed that person on the street. The Chidori was formed so quickly. Had he caught himself just a moment later, he would’ve smashed through the car’s hood. He didn’t know how sturdy cars were, maybe the material would’ve stopped his advance, but he couldn’t rely on that.

Kakashi!!

He closed his eyes, shaking his head to ban the memory from his mind. As he opened them, his hands were red with blood.

Rin’s blood…

KAKASHI!

He jumped, as he heard her voice clear in his head. Turning around his axis, however, he was alone. Surrounded by gravestones, old trees, and poorly kept flower beds.

Was she here? Rin wasn’t buried here, he knew. But could she see him anyway? Maybe the realm of the dead was connected, maybe… He turned around himself once more. Did she watch him?

“Rin?”

Trees, grass, stones, wildflowers twisted around him, like a morbid carousel.

Kakashi!

He could hear her so clearly. His hands were red from her blood. He rubbed with his fingers against his skin, dug his nails in, and scratched until it hurt, but it wouldn’t wash off!

“RIN?”

A shiver ran down his spine.

There she was. Turning around, she was right behind him. Blood down her chin. Eyes wide open.

Kakashi!

Rin! He moved to catch her as she fell, but his hands only caught empty air. He overbalanced, fell on his knees. She was gone. “RIN!” Looking around, he was alone. But he could still hear her in his head. The way she whispered his name, spoke his name, screamed his name: KAKASHI!

“Where are you?” He couldn’t see her! “I’m sorry, Rin.” I’m sorry… He dug his bloody, dirty hands into the dry earth. The hands of a killer. And he had almost killed again.

That was what he was! He brought nothing but destruction into this world! His hands were shaking in the dirt.

Eventually, his rapid breath settled down. His blood stopped rushing in his veins. As he looked around himself, he couldn’t find Rin, nor hear any voices. He seemed to be alone, but he was certain he had heard her voice. Clear as day. As if she was right next to him. But next to him, there was nothing now, nobody but an empty graveyard, old trees, gravestones sticking out of the ground.

As he dug his hands out of the earth, the blood was gone, but mud stuck to his fingers and under his nails. He wiped them off against his trousers. Then bracing himself against a tree, he pushed himself on shaky legs.

Sirius… He had lost Sirius, he realized. Searching the cemetery with his eyes, he found no black dog. He must have left Sirius on that bridge. He had panicked, left his comrade.

Not the first time you did that…

He had to find Sirius. But he had no idea where he was, how far he had run from the bridge? Was Sirius even still there? He walked through the cemetery as if he hoped to find the black dog between the gravestones, but he was the only person here.

On still wobbly legs and with slightly shaking hands he reached the center of the graveyard. There was a round plaza, with a big stone cross right in the center. Kakashi stood in front of it, staring at the formerly white stone. Like the crosses, they had in front of their churches… He touched the cold stone, but although just earlier he had thought that maybe Rin was here, maybe this graveyard would serve as a place to speak to his comrades… Now that he touched his flat hand against this stone cross, he felt no connection. A foreign cemetery in a foreign world. The souls of his loved ones seemed far away now.

He felt disappointed at that. Glowering at the cross one last time, he turned away, making his way back to where he had come from. He had to find Sirius.

**  

Sirius was a coward! He had been halfway back to the bridge, when he had turned around, fleeing again. Aurors! Aurors and dementors! Why would they send dementors to London?

He had been prepared to sneak past the obliviators of the ministry, even the aurors if they’d send them to investigate. If Kakashi had apparated, there was little he could do to trace where he had gone, but it was still the best place for Sirius to start searching. And then, he had felt the dementor. It couldn’t be more than one, and it was still so far away that all Sirius felt was a shiver down his spine and the distant memory of a bloody street. But it was still enough to scare him away.

When hours later he finally had the courage to try again, it was too late. Back on the bridge, he couldn’t find Kakashi. So much time had passed, that in the constant coming and going of people and traffic, even Kakashi’s scent was lost to him. He ran the bridge up and down, followed every street leading away from it, turned back to the bridge, ran across multiple times until he knew every brick and every dent in the balustrade. No Kakashi.

Was he even still in London? Or had he maybe apparated back home or to a different country? If Sirius only had his wand! He could use a tracking spell. But he had no wand.

** 

Retracing his steps had been difficult for Kakashi. He couldn’t remember quite which turns he had taken, and it was difficult to find his own scent in this area packed with millions of people. Still, he slowly made progress. Until…

“This way!” a gruff voice commanded. Suddenly, there was a blinding light, right in Kakashi’s face. Shocked he took a step back. He shielded his eyes, blinked against the light, but it had already dimmed until it didn’t blind him anymore.

A beam of yellow light came around the corner made an odd U-turn pointing right against his chest. It looked almost solid as if it wasn’t light at all but a thin string made of some fluorescent material. Kakashi grabbed for it, but his hand passed right through. Light… Nothing solid, no matter how much it looked like it.

Was it dangerous?

“They say he looked like a teenager, but we didn’t pick up anything at the ministry.” Another voice. It sounded like just around the corner. This time it was a woman speaking.

Kakashi heard a step not far from him, brushing clothes. He made a split-second decision, retreating to the roof of the building he stood in front of. It was just high enough, that he could listen without being seen.

“If there’s no trace it’s not a kid, even if they said he looked like one. Might be an older—” The voice broke off suddenly. “Did you see that?”

“Yes. Did he apparate again?” the woman asked. Peering down Kakashi saw both right below him on the street, looking straight up at him.

Were they looking for him? How did they…? Only now he noticed that the odd light was still pointing at his chest. The yellow string of light, thin as a wire led down the length of the building and ended at the tip of a thin wooden stick the man was holding in his hand. Magic, he realized just as they vanished in front of his eyes.

He didn’t think. Instinctively he jumped to the roof just across the street just as he heard a loud plop behind him. That was the teleportation Sirius had spoken about.

And still, the beam of light followed him everywhere he went. A tracking technique. Why they were looking for him, he didn’t know. Did they figure out that he knew where to find Sirius Black? In that case, he couldn’t let them catch him! Who knew what methods they had to get to his brain? A different thought occurred to him: Maybe he could lead them away.

He watched as they appeared on the roof. The man stumbled a little. Then they looked around themselves, before noticing that Kakashi wasn’t on the roof anymore.

“Over there!” the woman pointed across the street to Kakashi’s roof, following the string of light with her eyes. “He’s quick, but that’s him. Fits the description.”

Kakashi turned to run again. By the time they teleported to the second roof, he was already down on the street looking up at them. Curiously, he noticed, that none of the people surrounding him paid him any attention. Neither did they seem to notice the yellow string of light essentially coming from the sky down to point at his chest. The people of London simply followed their daily business as usual. Either they were used to these things happening around them, or they were in a sort of genjutsu to keep them oblivious to anything unusual.

Kakashi looked back up to the roof, just to see the man peer over the edge and point at him. They weren’t particularly fast, Kakashi thought. If they kept this leisurely pace, all their magical teleporting wouldn’t help them, and he would be able to evade them for hours.

Just at that moment, an elderly woman opened the door to her apartment complex, to lead her dog out, Kakashi quickly rushed past her into the building. He broke into an apartment, making sure it was empty, then took up position at a window. Hiding behind the curtains, he peered down onto the street.

Indeed, as the witch and wizard plopped right in the middle of the street, nobody seemed to bat an eye at it. It was as if they weren’t even seen by the people around them. Muggles, Sirius had called them. People who couldn’t use magic.

It was the first time, Kakashi could get a clear look at the couple hunting him. The man was thin, tall, with a bushy mustache. He looked to be in his early thirties. Long dark blue robes fell loosely around his body all the way down to his ankles. A pair of polished black pointy shoes peeked out from under the cloth. The woman wore shoes with small heels, just about an inch high. With that added height, she was almost as tall as her colleague, wearing a pin-striped skirt suit. She had a face a bit like a hawk. The look in her eyes said that there were a thousand places she’d rather be than sweating in the August sun while hunting down an unknown person. She too had one of these thin wooden sticks in her hand, though there was no light coming from it.

Looking at his chest, Kakashi followed the string of light out of the door and then vanish into the corridor. It didn’t go through the wall in a straight line, as if the closed window stopped it. Instead, it led out of the apartment down the stairs, and through the window, he could see it leave the building through the front door into the tip of the man’s wooden stick. They nudged each other to move quickly, then they ran up the three steps leading to the front door. Kakashi heard loud banging as the front door was pushed open.

Before they had always apparated right to him. Now, curiously, they decided to walk. Kakashi left his position at the window, sneaking out of the room to peek his head out of the apartment. He could hear their voices from the stairwell.

“Damn, he’s fast. But what’s he doing. That’s not a normal apparition,” that was the woman’s voice.

“It leaves no magical trace at all. And it’s completely quiet. Never saw anything like it.” The man answered. “You think it has anything to do with Black?”

The woman huffed. “Doubt it, but Shacklebolt’s right. It’s suspicious. A kid with no trace appearing in the middle of the street using some unknown spell to escape. That’s fishy.”

“You think it might be Dark Magic?” The man seemed skeptical.

“It’s obviously somebody using Polyjuice. And Dark Magic, that would at least explain why we didn’t get the typical ripple effects that would normally linger after an apparation.” The woman answered though she didn’t sound convinced. “Wish they wouldn’t have called the dementor, but you never know, right? We don’t know how Black escaped from Azkaban but might be the same method this guy is using.”

Their steps were heavy on the stairs. They moved reasonably quickly, closing in on Kakashi fast.

“We sneak up on him this time. If we can’t see him, he can’t see us coming either.”

Kakashi almost snorted at that. He had heard enough for now. It seemed like they had to see where he was, to use this teleportation technique to get to him. This tracking magic might be convenient, but it didn’t give them a marker on where to teleport. That was useful information, he thought. Closing the door silently, he retreated into the apartment, then opened a window and quickly climbed out.

By the time they had entered his apartment, he was already running across the roof on the other side of the street. He quickly created distance between them, but then he waited, giving them time to catch up. He could lead them away from Black. Away from the bridge, where he had last seen Black.

**

“This guy!” There was clear frustration in the man’s voice. “He’s just playing with us!”

An hour had passed now. Kakashi was actually very close to them, hiding just around the corner, his eyes and ears on them. Knowing that their tracking technique only told him the path to him, instead of telling them exactly where he was, made it easy to hide from them. As long as he made sure that they couldn’t see him, they would know which way he was, but not how far away from them.

“Yes, he is. That’s not a child. We need reinforcements.” The woman sounded frustrated and tired.

“No point really.” The man disagreed. "By the time we set up a parameter and create an anti-disapparating spell around him, he might have already left completely. We don’t even know if that would work against him.” He raised his stick a little, just as Kakashi changed positions again.

“There… He moved again. I’m getting tired of it. Why is he even still in the area? If he just apparated a mile away, I’d lose him. But no, he makes sure to stay close.”

Apparating was their form of teleportation, Kakashi knew. Learning, that the tracking spell had a maximum range was good to know.

“I’m telling you,” the woman got louder with anger. “He’s playing with us. Giving us a run-around.”

“It makes no sense… Why risk it, if it's Black? What’s he doing here anyway. I thought he was trying to get to Potter.”

“Maybe it’s not him, after all…”

The man grumbled something under his breath. Then he stopped in his tracks. “This is pointless.” With a flick of his wooden stick, the light that connected his stick with Kakashi’s chest suddenly disappeared. Kakashi quickly made sure, that it hadn’t left any traces on his clothes or chest. He lifted the shirt up but saw only smooth pale skin.

“So, what do we do? Go back, view our memories and look if we can draw up a composite sketch,” the woman suggested.

“Might as well, though I have no idea if that will get us anywhere. Looks like a kid, but no trace… Seems to be Polyjuice, so chances are, the composite sketch won’t get us anywhere.” He gave a halfhearted shrug. “If it’s not Black, doubt anybody from the aurors’ office will care anyway. They got their hands full, else they wouldn’t ask us to do this. I’m paid too little to run around all of London looking for some idiot who thinks it’s fun to apparate in front of muggles.”

He turned away. The long robes he was wearing flying around him with the abrupt movement. Kakashi snuck a little closer, to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. Then he almost flinched as a sudden crack in the air marked their departure. So far, he had always been a bit away, whenever they apparated. Up close… This magic was loud. How did none of the muggles surrounding the area react to that?

He quickly ran up to the spot where they had just disappeared from. “Did you see that?” he asked a random person that he grabbed by their arm. It was a teenage boy about his own age.

The kid jumped in surprise. “Jesus, where did you come from?” He stared white-eyed at Kakashi. “Just scared the bejesus out of me.”

“Did you see that?” Kakashi repeated his question, pointing to where the witch and wizard had disappeared from the street.

The boy stared blankly in the direction Kakashi was pointing at. “See what, mate?”

How could he not have seen it? The boy pulled free from Kakashi’s hold and continued his path, shaking his head as if Kakashi wasn’t making any sense. Kakashi realized that no matter how loud the teleportation was, no matter the fact that two people had just disappeared from the middle of the road… These muggles hadn’t seen anything. Then why had Kakashi?

**  

This time it took Kakashi even longer to find his way back to the bridge. He’d led the wizards, halfway across London on a constant zigzag course. He hadn’t even considered, that finding his way back might be difficult. Normally, his senses were aware enough that he could easily follow his path back to where he had come from. However, this city stank and was loud and now that the day ended, it looked completely different. It didn’t really get dark, instead, there was light everywhere, bright neon signs, lights in windows, traffic lights… From a huge arena, there were searchlights directed toward the sky shining a light on the clouds there. It looked completely different.

He couldn’t even trust his nose. Often, Kakashi would follow familiar scents only to be disappointed when it was just another restaurant selling the same food as another restaurant that he had passed on his wild goose chase around London.

By the time Kakashi finally reached the bridge again – and he was sure it was the same bridge, even though it looked different by night – it was already long past midnight. The whole area smelled of Sirius’ dog-form. Like the dog had run all around the area, rubbed his fur against every bit of wall, rolled himself over the street. His scent was everywhere, so much so it was difficult to say which direction he had gone to.

Kakashi followed a trail for two minutes until it suddenly ended at a big crossing. He followed another trail, followed it almost all the way back to the cemetery, but then lost it again. Shaking his head, he returned to the bridge. The freshest scents were already hours old. Sirius had likely found some hidden place to stay the night after he had failed to find Kakashi close to the bridge.

He climbed one of the taller buildings, tried to get a view over the area of the city surrounding the bridge. Maybe he could find an area where Sirius might feel safe to hide. But there were thousand such places just in the immediate vicinity. Small places between trashcans, abandoned alleyways, bridges, small parks, half-open gateways, public buildings, the train tracks, the cemeteries, two churches, and a few parking lots. And that was only what he could see at first glance. Who said that Sirius hadn’t found a way into one of the buildings, or even left the area entirely?

Finding a stray dog here, Kakashi realized as his eyes zeroed in on one of those animals, only to be disappointed as the fur turned out a dark brown and the dog much smaller than Sirius… it was like finding a needle in a haystack. He could waste days here and still not find Sirius. No reason to panic, Kakashi thought. After all, he might not know where Sirius was, but he knew where he was headed:

Harry Potter. Sirius had named the town his godson supposedly lived in again and again. Harry Potter, in Surrey.

Finding a boy who would have no reason to hide, he decided, would be much easier than finding a fugitive convict hiding from law enforcement, or a stray dog in a city of five million people.

Chapter Text

This time, luck was on Kakashi’s side. He had no idea where Surrey was, but he decided that orientating himself via street signs had led to success before. In London, the signs were a mess, so he quickly left London towards the southwest. It was just a wild guess. He had entered London from the northeast and hadn’t seen a place called Surrey on that side of London. Therefore, going southwest seemed reasonable.

He had barely even left the city when his stars finally aligned. Surrey was on none of the street signs, and he was already a little disappointed, when there, just to his left a huge car pulled out on the motorway. It was a big rectangular vehicle as high as two men standing on each other’s shoulders. It looked old and made more noise than any of the other cars around it. Bright red paint and a big advertisement on the sides made it stand out. A bus. He had seen these vehicles before in Cromer and again in Aylsham. They were meant to drive around passengers, and conveniently for him, they often had their destination displayed in bright letters above their front window. Convenient for Kakashi, because this bus, in particular, read ‘Sutton, Surrey’.

Following the bus, he reached Surrey in no time. It wasn’t so much a town, but rather an area just to the south of London. That was a little discouraging. Kakashi had hoped for a small town like Cromer with only a few thousand people. Instead, there were dozens of towns and small villages and Potter could be in every one of these. For a moment, he considered that he had miscalculated. He didn’t know where Potter lived, he didn’t know how he looked nor did he know his scent. All he knew, was that he lived somewhere in this area, a wizard living with a family of muggles.

In a town called Leatherhead in Mole Valley, Surrey he stopped following the Bus to Sutton. This place, he thought was as good a place as any to start. It was early morning, and the first people were already on the street.

“I’m looking for a boy called Potter, Harry Potter,” he asked a girl his age in a garden across a big schoolyard. After getting no satisfactory answer, he had decided asking people his own age might promise more success. If Potter lived in the area, there was a chance, this girl might have gone to school with him. She needn’t know much about him, but the name would maybe ring familiar.

“Never heard of him,” the girl said, walking all the way up to the fence. “How old?”

Kakashi gave a short shrug. Sirius had been rather vague with his age. “Thirteen, fourteen? Around our age.”

The girl frowned a little. Her nose crunched with the grimace. “You don’t know? What do you want with him?”

Kakashi didn’t have an answer to the question. Next time, he should prepare a better story. In any case, the girl had already answered his question anyway, so he quickly left her (“Hey! Where are you going?” she yelled after him.) and her neighborhood and asked in a different part of town.

An hour later an eighteen-year-old boy suggested he could look in the phone book and even pointed him to a phone booth. Kakashi quickly leafed through the pages. There were eight Potters, he saw. Interestingly, their addresses weren’t just listed at Leatherhead, but in the surrounding areas as well. The phonebook was apparently for the entire Surrey area. That would make things a lot easier for him.

Happily, he started dialing the first number. Thankfully, the phonebooth gave clear instructions on how to use it, and he still had a little cash left.

A woman picked up, reading a number to him that he only realized after four digits was her own phone number.

“Hello, I’m looking for a boy called Harry Potter?”

“I’m sorry. This is Augustine Potter on Bridge Street. There’s nobody called Harry here.” Her voice had the distinct throatiness of a chain smoker.

“Okay. Thank you for your help. I’m sorry for the disturbance.”

“No worries, no worries.”

Kakashi hung up and tried the next number.

Eight phone calls and all his coin cash later his excitement had deflated considerably. He had called all eight Potters in the area, but nobody knew a boy called Harry. However, one of them had reacted rather annoyed, that he was sick and tired of having kids call him every summer holidays, just because this Harry-kid couldn’t give out his number correctly. So, obviously, Kakashi wasn’t the only one who had tried and failed to reach Potter this way.

According to the census in the back of the phonebook, there were roughly 10 000 people living in Leatherhead and two hours later he was reasonably certain, that Harry Potter wasn’t among them. He left the town and followed the signs to a town called Redhill. On his way, he made sure to ask at least one person in every village he passed by.

Redhill was double the size of Leatherhead, so therefore he took twice as long to decide that Harry Potter didn’t live here either. By the time he reached a town called Horley, the sun was already starting to set.

“Do you know a kid called Harry Potter?” He called out to three other boys on a playground. They were kicking a shiny leather boy from one to the other. “I found this, and it says his name, there…” he pulled out his medkit. A quick genjutsu and as the boy looked up at him, he could read ‘Belongs to Harry Potter’ written with a black marker across it.

“What is it?” one of the boys asked, kicking the ball to one of his friends, before running up to Kakashi. Kakashi opened it, quickly revealing a few bandages. “A first aid kit, I think. A woman said a boy forgot it at her bakery, but she couldn’t describe him.”

The other kid gave an uninterested shrug. “Why bother. Just keep it or throw it away. Looks rather worthless anyway.” He pointed at where Kakashi had repaired it after a shuriken had hit it during a mission half a year ago. “Already all stitched up. He can just buy a new one.”

Kakashi frowned. He felt almost insulted the way the boy dismissed his med pack like that as if it held no value. “Well, maybe it has personal value if he bothered to repair it,” he suggested, quickly shoving the pack back into his pouch before the boy could continue to insult it. “Well, do you know him?”

“Harry Potter?” He shook his head. “Never heard of him. And I know almost all the boys here in town. Don’t know you though.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously at Kakashi.

“I’m just here for the vacation,” Kakashi quickly said. “I’m from Japan.”

“Ah, that’s where the accent’s from. Sounds about right. What are you doing in Horley of all places?”

Kakashi was unhappy with how the conversation turned away from his search for Harry Potter. “I was in London earlier. It’s just a day trip. So, you don’t know him?”

The boy laughed. “Yeah, can’t imagine why you’d leave London for this backwater town.” He shook his head. “No. I know there’s a Potter over in Lingfield. Martin Potter…” He waved towards the west as if that was where Lingfield was. Kakashi had read the street signs and was certain Lingfield was in the east. “Don’t know a Harry, but maybe it’s a relative.”

“It’s not,” Kakashi said dejectedly. Martin Potter was the guy who’d been so annoyed over the phone. “I already called him.”

“You called old Martin?” The boy snickered. His freckles danced across his cheeks as he laughed. “How was it? He’s pretty nasty, isn’t he?” Kakashi didn’t disagree. “Anyway, you’re taking this way too seriously. That what they do over in Japan? Come on, just throw it away. Or keep it if you think it’s of value. You asked around, even called old Martin. Nobody can expect more than that.”

Kakashi made a face. “I thought it would be cool,” he said, trying to mimic some of the language he had heard all day from other kids his age. “Like I could make a friend.”

The boy frowned at him. Then he turned around. “Hey, Carl! Ted!” he yelled out to his friends. “Know a kid called Harry Potter? He’s supposed to live somewhere around here.”

Kakashi looked over to the other two boys who were still kicking the ball. One of them, a tall lanky boy with curly black hair, dug the tip of his foot below the ball, kicked it up, and then caught it with his own hands. “No idea. Never heard of him, why?” he said, throwing his ball from one hand to the other.

“He lost some first aid kit or something like that,” the freckled boy yelled back, pointing at Kakashi. “He wants to give it back.”

The lanky boy gave a shrug. The other kid, much shorter but with strong arms, waved for him to kick, then he suddenly stopped. “Harry Potter?” he asked, turning to Kakashi. “I think I know that name.”

“You know him?” Kakashi quickly ran up to him. “I’ve been looking all day, but nobody knows him.”

“As I said, man, you’re taking it too seriously,” the freckled boy said running after him. “Damn you’re fast.”

“Not sure,” the short boy said. “I think there was a boy with that name in my primary school. Just a year below me. Over in Little Whinging.”

Kakashi had never heard of that place. “Little Whinging? Where is that?”

“Halfway between here and Guildford. You can’t miss it. Most boring place you’ve ever been to I promise.” He laughed.

Kakashi had no idea what to imagine with that description. “You know anything else about Potter?”

The other boy shook his head. “Nah. I’m not even sure, he still lives there.”

Kakashi thanked him and quickly looked for the way to Guildford. He quickly ran along next to the main road. Halfway, the boy had said. Guildford was about 25 miles away. After roughly half of that, he came upon a town called Dorking, and there… A sign pointing north told him he was about five miles outside Little Whinging.

**   

It was already getting late, as he entered the small town. Kakashi hadn’t known how to picture the most boring town ever, but now that he was here, he decided the description was fitting. Little Whinging were rows upon rows of single houses with hedges, with neat little gardens of the greenest grass. It was smashed smack between the motorway on one side and a small river on the other. The most striking landmarks were the church (that was one of the least impressive churches he had seen in the last days) and a big company called ‘Grunnings’. (“Grunnings,” he whispered to himself trying to make it sound appealing.)

Grunnings seemed like a good place to start his search. So just when all the workers from the company left the grounds, he jogged up to a young lady in high heels and a skirt suit and asked the same question he was already sick of asking:

“Excuse me? Do you know somebody called Harry Potter?”

The woman looked at him with an expression as if he had said something scandalizing. Her nose scrunched up a little. Her eyes roamed his face, then she quickly pressed her suitcase closer to her body and marched on with hurried steps. Kakashi looked after her in confusion.

He was about to follow her to ask again when instinct made him dodge a man who suddenly grabbed for him. “Hey boy!” The man yelled out in an angry voice. “What are you doing here? Trying to steal, are you?” Kakashi glared at him. “It’s all the same with you people!”

“You people?” Kakashi asked because he had no idea what he was referring to.

The man didn’t answer. “Where are you from, huh? China?” He made to grab for Kakashi again, but Kakashi quickly evaded. “Some good for nothing are you? Get lost, boy!”

Kakashi was utterly confused. “I’m not sure what you’re—” he started to say, but at that point, another woman joined their conversation.

“Henry, leave the kid alone.” Her long fingers clamped around the man’s arm pushing it away. She was much shorter than him, but he seemed to follow her command anyway. Glaring at her he pulled his arm back. Then he muttered something about “thieving pack” and turned away.

“Racist asshole,” she whispered after him. “Sorry about that,” the woman then bowed down a little toward Kakashi to be eye level with him. “You’re not from here, are you?” She pointed at her own face. “Mixed race, hm? I bet the mask didn’t help either. Why are you wearing it?”

Kakashi had no answer for that. Maybe he should stop wearing his mask, he thought. In this world it made him stand out, rather than help him hide. He had already noticed that.

“Is it some new fashion? I see more and more of your people walking around London with masks. You’re a tourist, I guess?” Again, he had no idea, what he meant with ‘your people’. Still, he nodded. It wasn’t the first time, he used the tourist excuse, after all. “So, what did you want to know?”

She pushed up her glasses, as she waited for him to answer.

“I’m looking for somebody. His name is Harry Potter. He lives somewhere around here?”

Her face seemed confused at first, then her brows moved towards her hairline in a show of surprise. “Potter? I think I know that name. That’s Mr. Dursley’s nephew, isn’t it?” She looked to the company. “He’s the director and my boss. I guess that’s why you came here, hm?” She shook her head. “What do you want from him? I hear quite bad things about him.”

“I just wanted to return something to him, that he lost,” he said not bothering to show her the medkit, because he wanted her to give him more information, and distracting her with a fake lost-and-found item wouldn’t help. “What bad things?”

“Ah, that’s not for young ears…” she started, but then she continued anyway, her tone turning confidential as if she was revealing secrets. “Mr. Dursley certainly tries his best with the boy, but a hopeless case from what I hear. They had to send him to St. Brutus’s.” She said it as if he had to know what that was.

“St. Brutus’s?” he asked, having trouble with pronouncing the double s-sound.

“Oh dear, of course, you wouldn’t know.” She clapped her hands together. “St. Brutus’s Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys.” She shook her head. “Poor boy, there seems to be something wrong with him.” She pointed at her head. “Up here I man. But it can’t be helped. Mr. Dursley hopes some discipline might help him. But you never know, right? If the nature is already rotten from the start…” She let the sentence hang in the air unfinished. “He’s been making trouble ever since he was a small boy, I heard.”

Kakashi had quite enough of her. The way she spoke to him, the way she had even defended him earlier, she seemed to be nice enough, but now her words were all rubbing him the wrong way. She was a gossip. Clearly, she believed just everything this Dursley-person was telling her. If Harry Potter was in fact a wizard, he probably went to Hogwarts. Kakashi already knew that much about the wizarding world. With the Statute of Secrecy in effect, the Dursleys probably tried to hide that by making up some insane story about Potter being in this St. Brutus’s facility. This woman ate all these scandalous stories up and apparently loved to share them with every stranger that happened to come by. At multiple times she expressed sympathy for her boss, but there was also a glint in her eyes that spoke of spiteful glee that her boss had these troubles with his nephew.

Kakashi decided not to believe anything she said. It probably wasn’t true, and he didn’t think she cared much about whether it was true or not herself, as long as she had a nice story to gossip about.

“Can you tell me where they live?” he asked, not interested in the rest of her story.

She seemed somewhat put-off by his lack of interest. With a huff, she straightened up to her full height. “If he’s home for the holidays… Privet Drive… I don’t know the number off the top of my head.”

Kakashi thanked her for her information, despite feeling already very annoyed with her.

“If you meet Mr. Dursley, don’t tell him I told you anything,” she called after him sounding a little worried. There was no reason to worry, of course. Kakashi had no intention to become friends with this Dursley and even if, he didn’t know her name anyway.

**  

Kakashi didn’t know much about Harry Potter. A boy roughly his age. A wizard. An orphan who lived with his uncle, who was called Dursley on Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey. Most importantly, he didn’t know how the boy looked, which made searching for him difficult. Ultimately, he decided his best chance was to just walk down Privet Drive and read the names below the doorbells and mailboxes.

It was already dark, but the streetlights made his task easy. Still, it was a boring task. Privet Drive was the most boring street in the most boring town. Everything looked the same. If it weren’t for the changing numbers in front of the driveways, he would’ve been certain that he ran in circles checking the same three houses over and over, again. It was also a long street. He started checking number 121 on one end and had made all the way to 30 when he was distracted by noise.

Glad for the distraction he looked up.

“MARGE! Nooo!” It was a man’s voice. The yelling came from one of the gardens a bit further down the road. “Bring her back down! Maker he normal again!” Kakashi didn’t know who the command was intended for.

He heard a dog barking, but he was immediately certain that it wasn’t Sirius. This was a much smaller dog, his barking high pitched and painful for his ears. Still, curious about what was happening, Kakashi jogged down the road. He peered over the neatly trimmed hedge into the garden of number 4.

There was nobody in the garden. Instead, he could see through an open window and terrace door into the kitchen. A huge woman flew bloated to the size of one of Jiraiya-sama’s summoning toads just below the ceiling. The kitchen seemed cramped with her in the center bopping uselessly up and down as if she was entirely weightless. A fat man with a bushy mustache hung on her ankles, trying to pull her back down to the ground. Then there was a haggard woman standing to the side, watching it all with pure horror in her eyes.

Kakashi didn’t know much about Harry Potter. But he knew he was a wizard… and this was clearly magic!

So where was the boy? There was a teenager, about the right age, sitting on the other side of the room, not concerned with what was happening, watching TV. He was almost as fat as the man, and the family resemblance was very obvious. A second teenager stood right across the bloated lady in front of the kitchen aisle. He had his fists balled at his sides. Unlike the other two males, he was thin, almost a little haggard. Wild black hair stood in all directions, reminding Kakashi a little of Obito. He was the right age as well.

That was him, Kakashi thought excitedly. No doubt. He had found him. Harry Potter.

Then Potter turned around, and Kakashi heard the door bang as he left the kitchen. There were more sounds from inside. Doors banging shut, the scraping noises of something heavy being dragged down a staircase.

“Come back here!” The fat man yelled after him. “Come here and fix her!” He finally let go of the bloated lady and hurried after the teenager out of the kitchen.

“She deserved it! She deserved what she got. And you stay away from me.”

The teenager and the fat man weren’t in the kitchen anymore, so Kakashi couldn’t see them. Then suddenly, he heard the front door open and he quickly hurried across the street to hide.

Kakashi watched Potter drag a big trunk out of the house. It fell heavily down the single step onto the pavement. Then he took an empty birdcage in the other hand, and a neat and shining broom under his arm. He grabbed for the trunk again to drag it all down the driveway and onto the street. He watched as Potter dragged his belongings across the street and past where Kakashi was hiding in the dark. He was panting, having trouble with the heavy trunk and the different unwieldy items. Every few steps his broom slipped a little further and he had to stop to adjust it under his arm. Carrying the broom, birdcage, and dragging the trunk after himself created unshapely shadows whenever he passed a streetlight. Kakashi followed right after.

This was Potter, he was fairly sure. Yet, Sirius was nowhere in sight. He must have fallen behind. Was he still in London looking for Kakashi? Had Kakashi made a mistake leaving? He had assumed, that after not finding Kakashi Sirius would simply continue on his planned journey. Of course, Sirius moved much slower than Kakashi, but he wouldn’t have to search through all these small towns and villages the way Kakashi had. Maybe Kakashi was wrong and Sirius hadn’t even left London, yet. So, what was he supposed to do now?

He could stay here, wait and hope that Sirius would turn up within the next few days. He could go back to London and continue his search there. Or he could stay with Potter and rely on Sirius turning up where Potter was sooner or later. Even if Sirius wouldn’t seek out Potter after all, if Kakashi was right, Potter would go to Hogwarts. And Sirius was definitely headed there. It seemed like the safest option to stay with the boy.

Should he show himself then? He had learned a lot through just talking to Sirius. A lot more than he could’ve found out on his own. Harry Potter hadn’t spent the last decade in prison. It stood to reason that he could teach Kakashi even more about this world.

Something held him back, though. How should he reveal himself to Potter? Having spent almost two weeks in this world now, he had realized that in this world he stood out like a sore thumb. Kakashi wasn’t shy, but he was a shinobi. Hiding and losing himself in the masses was something he could always use to his advantage. Not calling attention to himself would be better than standing out as an odd and strange character. So, the mask had to go. As did the bandages over his eye and even his grey hair seemed uncommon in this world. Showing his Sharingan openly, however, would be a constant chakra drain. An illusion, he decided.

He had already tested it with Sirius, so he knew, that genjutsu worked against wizards. Without further hesitation, he quickly transformed himself into a rather nondescript plain-looking boy. No mask, no covered eye, no wild grey hair. Instead, he turned into a tall boy his own age, with short brown hair, wearing jeans and a hoodie. It was a simple transformation and Kakashi was certain, that he could keep this up for days, short of being knocked unconscious. He just had to make sure, that Potter wouldn’t see him sleep.

The boy’s heart was racing. Kakashi could hear it all the way to where he was following a few paces behind him. He smelled of anger. Then, he kicked his suitcase, placed the birdcage on top, and sat down on the sidewalk just around the corner of Privet Drive. Quickly, as he put his head in his hands, dragging his fingers through his wild hair, his anger vanished, and Kakashi was certain, what he now smelled was full-blown panic.

He seemed to mutter something under his breath, but it was impossible for Kakashi to understand. Then Potter pulled out a wooden stick, holding it tight. He seemed to finally come to a decision, as he opened his suitcase.

Audibly, Kakashi sighed, wanting to get the boy’s attention. He had apparently miscalculated. The panic wasn’t over and the sound of somebody close-by shocked Potter right back to his feet, standing stiff as a board his stick pointed into the dark. Embarrassed, because he didn’t want to surprise Potter like that, Kakashi scratched his head, stepping into the light.

“Uh, sorry—” he started.

“What—” retreating backward, Potter tripped over his trunk and stumbled onto the street. He fell back, limbs flailing, the stick fell out of his hand and—

Kakashi didn’t see it coming. There was a loud crack ripping through the atmosphere and just steps away from Potter a huge bus appeared, traveling towards the boy at a break-neck speed. It was fast! It was fast even for shinobi standards! And where the heck had it come from?

There was no time to contemplate. Lunging forward, all Kakashi could do was grab Potter’s shoulder and drag him out of the bus’s path. There was no time for anything else.

Tires screeching, a loud honking, and then the bus stopped right in front of them. With a squeaky sound, the door slid open.

“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go.” A pimply-faced young man in a well-worn purple uniform the same color as the bus stood lounging in the doorway in front of them. He read his words from a tiny card in his hand. “My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening." With lazy eyes, he looked up at the two teenage boys for the first time then. “Blimey! You look as if you’ve seen a ghost!” He looked around as if looking for said ghost.

“Uh…” Kakashi’s words utterly failed him. He only realized that he was still holding Potter’s shoulder when the boy took a step back. Kakashi let go of him.

Potter picked the birdcage up, that he had knocked over as he fell.

“So, where can I take you?” Stan asked after giving up on his search for the ghost.

Nobody answered him. Kakashi didn’t know where to go anyway. He wanted to follow Potter, so he would let Potter have the first word. Potter however seemed completely stunned still. Stan didn’t seem happy with the ongoing silence.

“Which one of you called us, hm?” He frowned a little. “You did call us, right?”

Finally, Potter seemed to catch himself. “You said this bus drives everywhere?”

Glad that Potter had finally answered the conductor nodded proudly. “Yap. Everywhere you want to go, as long as it’s on land. What’s your name?”

Potter hesitated. “Neville Longbottom.”

Kakashi was surprised at first. He had been certain that this had to be Potter. A fake name? But why?

“And you did flag us down, didn’t you? Held out your wand?”

“Yes,” Potter said quickly, although Kakashi knew for a fact that he had done no such thing. At least not on purpose. “How much to London?”

Shunpike’s eyes traveled to Kakashi for a second. “Just one?” he asked. “What about your friend?”

“He’s not—"

“Me too. To London please,” Kakashi interrupted Potter immediately. “How much?”

“Eleven Sickle per person,” Shunpike said completely ignoring the way Potter stared at Kakashi in surprise. “Thirteen if you want a hot chocolate and for fifteen you get a bottle of warm water and a toothbrush in a color of your choice.” Kakashi had no idea what a Sickle was.

Potter nudged him in the side. “What are you doing? Who even are you?” he asked, but he whispered it so lowly that it was difficult for even Kakashi to understand. Obviously, Potter didn’t want to create a scene in front of Shunpike.

Kakashi nudged him back, but he didn’t answer. “Can I pay in Pound Sterling?” he asked looking in his pockets for the last bit of change he had.

Shunpike seemed put off by the question. “That’s 3.20 each.”

Kakashi nodded, he pulled out the last money he had. A single 20 Pound bill. Shunpike made a face. “Sorry, can’t change that.”

“I’ve got it,” Harry said quickly. He searched in his pockets and then produced a number of silver coins. He stared at Kakashi, as he handed the money over.

Shunpike took the money, counted it quickly, then he stepped aside. “Alright, come in, come in.”

“Wait, I need a moment. I lost my wand,” Potter suddenly remembered.

Wand… Sirius had spoken about wands quite a bit he remembered. A thing he missed dearly. Kakashi had no concept of it in his head.

“You lost your wand, Neville?” Shunpike asked as if that was the most ridiculous thing ever. “You’ve got to hold on to that, man!” He turned towards the inside of the bus. “Ern, heard that? The boy lost his wand!” He snickered a little.

Meanwhile, Kakashi watched curiously, as Potter searched around the bus and on the street. He blushed a little from embarrassment. Then he went on his knees, searched with his arm under the bus, and finally pulled it back holding the wooden stick in his hand. “Got it!” Potter exclaimed. “Sorry for the wait.” He held the stick up high. A wand…

“Okay, okay,” Shunpike waved him back over impatiently. “Now, come in.” He looked at Kakashi. “You too. What’s your name?”

“Charlie,” Kakashi said quickly. He didn’t know why Potter needed an alias, but he decided to use one because Kakashi was clearly a Japanese name and he didn’t look Japanese anymore. “Charlie Major.”

“Well, come in Charlie Major. Ern, that’s Charlie. Our driver, Ernie Prang.” The old man in the driver seat gave Kakashi a toothless smile through thick glasses. “That’s yours.” He pointed at one of many empty brass beds that stood all across the inside of the bus. It seemed much bigger from the inside. “And that, Ern, that’s… Bloody hell, what are you doing Neville!” Shunpike exclaimed jumping out of the bus. “Get inside. I’ll take care of that! Ernie, Neville Longbottom. Your bed is the one next to your friend.”

Potter was shoved into the bus and after Kakashi. He followed the directions, looking a little dazed. Multiple times, Kakashi saw him glance back towards his trunk, broom, and birdcage. The only thing he still had in his hand was his wand. Then he relaxed a little, as he saw Shunpike manhandle his trunk into the bus.

Kakashi sat down on the mattress. It squeaked horribly, and it didn’t feel very comfortable. He had no intention to sleep on it, though, so he didn’t mind. The walls of the bus were decorated in wood panels, there were candles next to the beds. A tiny wizard slept in one bed. He mumbled something, then turned and continued sleeping. Kakashi experimentally bopped up and down on the mattress, listening to the squeaking.

He turned to Potter when he heard him sit down on an equally loud mattress.

“Who are you?” Potter whispered silently, staring at him through wide eyes. The round glasses were still somewhat crooked on his nose from the fall.

“Charlie,” Kakashi said in a lazy drawl.

Potter frowned. Obviously, that didn’t answer his question. “You’re a wizard?” he asked. “But I was certain I’m the only one!”

“You mean the only one in Little Whinging?” Kakashi asked, purposefully leaving the first question unanswered. He preferred not to lie if he didn’t have to, and Potter would assume even without Kakashi having to say anything. “I’m not from here. I came from… Eh… I came from Horley.”

The way Potter’s eyes brightened as if Kakashi hung the moon made Kakashi almost regret his words. “But that’s so close!” Potter exclaimed giddily. “And you’re my age too. I never knew there was another… well, another wizard so close.” He sounded almost embarrassed as he spoke the words with a similar tone of confidentiality that the woman earlier had used as she spoke of St. Brutus’s Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. “Are your parents muggles?”

Kakashi nodded. At least that way, he could excuse his lacking knowledge about the wizarding world with his muggle parents. Why was this kid so giddy? Potter’s excitement made Kakashi nervous. The way he looked at Kakashi. There was a longing in Potter’s green eyes that was entirely foreign to Kakashi.

“That’s—I mean, we’re basically neighbors!”

“Hardly,” Kakashi said because Horley might be close but not that close.

“Yes, yes. Of course… But it’s just an hour on the bike. You have a bike?”

Kakashi shook his head. Immediately, Potter’s enthusiasm deflated.

“Oh… Yeah, me neither. But still, Horley is so close, I could probably walk that. We could play together.”

Was he in such dire need of a playmate he wouldn’t mind walking ten miles there and back? Angrily, Kakashi remembered the way the woman had talked about him. A difficult incurably criminal child who gave his uncle trouble ever since being young? It didn’t sound like that. The boy behaved like an isolated child in need of a friend. Uncomfortably aware, that he had awakened hope in the boy that he couldn’t fulfill, Kakashi scratched his head. He didn’t want to answer Potter’s unspoken question if they could be friends. Either he’d agree and break Potter’s heart when he ultimately revealed himself as a liar, or he would deny him right here.

Thankfully though, Potter didn’t demand an answer right away. Instead, he continued his barrage of questions: “Do you go to Hogwarts? You’re around my age, so you’d be my year, right? Or maybe fourth year? I’ll start my third year soon. But I never saw you there. Which house are you in?”

“No,” Kakashi answered, happy he could finally say something without immediately disappointing the other boy. “I’m not in Hogwarts.” It would be difficult to believably pretend that he knew anything about this school. He didn’t even know enough to answer this house question.

Potter deflated a little. Then he scratched his head in a way that made his hair stick out even more wildly. “How? I thought all kids—”

He was interrupted as Shunpike finally managed to secure all of Potter's belongings inside the bus. With a bang and a sudden force that made Kakashi topple backward and Potter perform a somersault off his bed, the bus shot down the road.

“Ouch…” Potter rubbed his shoulder using a nightstand to climb back to his feet. “What was…” But he cut himself off, staring down at the window. Kakashi followed his line of view. The streets, houses, cars – all of which were little more than blurry spots, rushed past so fast, it was difficult even for Kakashi to make out anything. Most surprisingly, however, they suddenly seemed to be somewhere else entirely.

These streets didn’t look like Little Whinging anymore.

“That’s where we were when you flagged us down,” Shunpike said a pimple-faced smile spreading from ear to ear. “Where are we, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?”

“How can the Muggles not hear the bus?” Potter asked.

Kakashi turned toward the conversation, curious as well. He had wondered about that too.

“Them! Don’t listen properly, do they? Don’t look properly either. Never notice nothing, they don’t.” Shunpike was distracted when Ernie called for him to wake one of the other passengers.

Kakashi looked after him. Was that really it. Did muggles not notice magic because they were simply not aware enough. He doubted that could be all there was. How did one miss a bus teleporting right in the middle of a street or weaving its way through magic like this? He remembered the wizards teleporting…apparating in the middle of London. That couldn’t be all there was to why the muggles hadn’t noticed it.

Before he could think any further about it, the bus came to a sudden halt. Kakashi just barely had enough time to use a small burst of chakra to his feet to remain standing. Potter on the other hand smacked flat against the panel that separated the passenger area from the driver seat. The other occupant of the bus didn’t react quite as violently. In fact, the wizard asleep in his bed just turned around with a little grumble and started snoring.

Potter quickly stood back up and sat down on his bed, clearly hoping that if he sat, he wouldn’t be thrown around again. In fact, when the bus started moving, the entire bed slid forward a little, but Potter remained seated. He looked a little relieved.

Shunpike leaned against one of the bed frames, standing utterly comfortable as if the bus wasn’t a hell ride that made standing entirely impossible unless you knew chakra… or magic, Kakashi guessed. The conductor pulled out a newspaper – one of those magical ones with an unreadable script and moving pictures like the newspaper clipping Sirius had shown him days ago.

Kakashi threw it a quick glance, then noticed disappointed that he still couldn’t read more than a few letters and was about to turn back to his conversation with Potter, when something caught his side. There the image on the front cover. He knew that image!

It was the same picture of Sirius Black that he had seen on the muggle newspaper, only here the image moved. He could see Sirius fight against his restraints, try desperately to shake off the hands that were holding him. He could see him scream and scream and scream. It was utterly soundless. The image didn’t come with sound. Maybe it was that, which made Sirius eternally screaming on the front cover more devastating for Kakashi to watch. There was despair and grief in haunted eyes. He was screaming for help, screaming for somebody to listen… but there was no sound.

“That man!”

Kakashi flinched from surprise when Harry yelled out next to him pointing at the newspaper.

“That man was on the Muggle news!”

“Sirius Black,” Shunpike nodded looking at the front page. “’Course he was, Neville. Where have you been?” With a chuckle, he passed the paper on to Potter.

Kakashi glanced over Potter’s shoulder, but he had a lot of trouble deciphering the fancy letters. He had only barely made out the title when Potter was already halfway through the entire article. Potters lips moved slightly as he read. The article wasn’t very long, but Kakashi stood no chance. Instead of reading it, he watched Sirius Black on the cover. A sunken face with shadowed, desperate eyes and waxy white skin.

“Scary-looking thing, isn’t he?” Shunpike said watching the boys.

“He murdered thirteen people with one curse?” Potter asked in a dazed voice as he handed the newspaper over to Kakashi, who didn’t even bother to try and read the article.

“Yep, in front of witnesses an’ all. Broad daylight. Caused big trouble.” He sat down in an armchair opposite Potter. “Black was a big supporter of You-Know-Who.”

Kakashi didn’t know who. Potter however seemed to know. “What, Voldemort?”

And with that single name, suddenly all color drained from Shunpike’s face, and the whole bus made a sudden jump to the side, as Ernie jerked the steering wheel around. Kakashi was more intrigued by the way a farmhouse magically jumped out of the way, than he was by the name, though he remembered Sirius mentioning it once before.

Shunpike was yelling in anger and shock, Potter was apologizing hastily, quickly correcting himself.

Shunpike seemed to feel better with that. “Yeah, that’s right. Very close to You-Know-Who, they say… anyway when little Harry Potter got the better of You-Know-Who all you You-Know-Who’s supporters was tracked down, wasn’t they, Ern? Most of them knew it was all over, with You Know Who gone, and they came quietly. But not Sirius Black. I heard he thought he’d be second-in-command once You-Know-Who had taken over.”

Kakashi followed the explanation curiously. The way Shunpike told it certainly sounded a lot different from what Sirius had said. In fact, apart from saying that he was innocent and that his friend betrayed him, Sirius hadn’t said much about the war that had preceded his capture at all. Kakashi remembered that he had mentioned this You-Know-Who-Voldemort-person. Kakashi however hadn’t known, that Potter had ended this Voldemort. If Potter was a famous hero of the war, that would maybe explain why he used a false name.

Then again, hadn’t all of this taken place over a decade ago? Kakashi had become a shinobi at five, but Potter would only have been a toddler… That would be too young to stop an enemy even for a shinobi. Maybe they were talking about a different Harry Potter. The father maybe, that was Sirius’s friend… But no, Sirius had said his name. What had he said his friend’s name was? He tried to remember. James. Luckily Kakashi had a good memory. James Potter.

“Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles and Black took out his wand and he blasted half the street apart, and a wizard got it, and so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. Horrible, eh? And you know what Black did then?”

Kakashi listened with bated breath. This was so different from Sirius’s own explanation. Sirius had mostly talked about his friends, about the way Potter’s parents had died. That they were betrayed by the rat, but Sirius took the blame for it. The only thing he had said about the twelve muggles who had died… Kakashi recalled his conversation with Sirius.

Sirius had hunted the rat down, the rat killed the muggles, faked his own death…

Sirius hadn’t mentioned that it had all been just one devastating attack. One technique to kill a dozen people. Kakashi decided it was the last time he took magic lightly. He had played around with those two in London, but if they had skills to kill him and an entire street of people in the blink of an eye…?

“Laughed!” Stan answered barely giving the two boys any time to answer his question. “Just stood there and laughed. And when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, he went with them quiet as anything, still laughing his head off. ‘Cause he’s mad, isn’t he, Ern? Isn’t he mad?”

Kakashi remembered the anguish in haunted eyes, helpless screaming from a newspaper cover. He remembered the way Sirius had broken out into loud barking laughter when Kakashi first found out about him. Kakashi had stopped him, caught him in a genjutsu to quiet him because he hadn’t been able to bear that gut-wrenching laughter. Kakashi hadn’t seen madness in those eyes, hadn’t heard madness in his laughter. Nor had he heard any amusement. Just pure, painful despair.

“If he weren’t when he went to Azkaban, he will be now,” Ernie answered from the driver seat. “I’d blow myself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind you… after what he did…”

Azkaban… That was the prison, he knew. Sirius had mentioned it, but never really talked about it. Whenever Kakashi thought about it, he imagined a regular prison, but the way Ernie spoke about it, it didn’t sound like a regular prison.

A thirty-three-year-old looking like a fifty-year-old. The signs of meticulous, prolonged starvation. Kakashi had already recognized the signs though he hadn’t been certain, yet. Torture… What was it with this place? What was there about Azkaban that made Ernie rather kill himself than step foot in it?

“Never been a breakout from Azkaban before.” Kakashi had missed part of the conversation. “Beats me how he did it. Frightening, eh? Mind, I don’t fancy his chances against them Azkaban guards.”

Soon after, they changed the topic. Apparently, Azkaban wasn’t something any of them wanted to talk about for longer than necessary. It was itching in Kakashi’s fingers to ask more about Sirius. What kind of witnesses had there been, that Shunpike had mentioned? How had they proven that it was Sirius who had done the killing? What kind of technique had he used?

But he didn’t find it in himself to ask. Part of it was because he couldn’t risk revealing that he knew anything about Sirius, part of it was because the conversation had already dragged on, and he was just secretly glad they had finally stopped talking about Sirius Black.

** 

Potter told them to drive him to a place called ‘Diagon Alley’ and Kakashi agreed deciding it would be smartest to stay with Potter until he at least knew where to find him. After that, he could still go back to the bridge and look for Sirius, as long as he knew where Potter was.

After they arrived, Shunpike groaned and complained, as he heaved Potter’s suitcase out on the streets of London. It was almost midnight, Kakashi guessed. This morning, he had left London, and now he was back here. However, looking around this was a much different part of the city. A dingy dark corner.

They were dropped off in front of a small pub called the Leaky Cauldron. The name hung in crooked letters above the front door. The whole place looked very untrustworthy to Kakashi.

He was distracted when a man stepped out of the pub. He didn’t at all look like he belonged in that establishment – or on this street. A portly little man in a clean pin-striped cloak, with a neatly parted tuft of grey hair on his head, standing in the entry to a shabby club that looked as if it was worth less than the bowler hat on the man’s head. However, although well-groomed and in an official-looking cloak, he didn’t look at all dignified. His face was red and somewhat puffy, with tired bags under his eyes and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “There you are, Harry,” he exclaimed, putting a hand down on Potter’s shoulder completely ignoring Kakashi right next to him.

The man’s appearance caused quite some excitement. Shunpike yelled out for Ernie to look who was there, and Potter paled as he looked up and obviously recognized the man. Kakashi seemed to be the only one who didn’t know this guy.

Shunpike seemed confused why ‘Neville’ was called ‘Harry’. So, the newcomer quickly cleared that confusion up and destroyed Potter’s secret identity. The way everybody was suddenly fawning over him, Kakashi was quite certain that his popularity was the reason he had chosen an alias in the first place. Kakashi felt almost bad for him.

The newcomer seemed to have no interest to watch Shunpike and Ernie fawn over Potter, so he quickly pushed him inside. Kakashi made to sneak away when a slight tuck on his sleeve called him back.

Potter was holding on to him, and Kakashi didn’t quite have it in him to abandon him to this portly little stranger.

Chapter Text

Sirius had searched London all night into the early morning hours when he almost fell over from exhaustion. No trace of Kakashi. Sometimes he found his scent – or he thought he did but then he lost it again. For all he knew, Kakashi could be anywhere. Even back home in Japan — and those times when Sirius thought he smelled him, that might just be imagination, created by his tired mind.

He woke up late the next morning, having almost slept until noon. It was only in the daylight that he realized he had fallen asleep in Streatham. He considered going back to the bridge, but he had gone back there surely four or five times during the last night, and it now seemed so far away. Almost the other side of London. In the meantime, he realized, if he set a hard pace south, he could reach Little Whinging by nightfall.

Kakashi could be anywhere. There was no point…

He felt incredibly guilty as he thought that. After all the kid had done for him… Well, if he was still in London, he was better off without Sirius. Hadn’t that been, why Sirius brought him to London in the first place? Because there were police, and embassies and, yes, even the ministry of magic, that could help the boy? If Kakashi was still in London, Sirius was certain, he was better off without him. If he wasn’t… He’d probably be relieved to finally be rid of the mass murderer.

And if he wasn’t in London, Sirius had no chance to find him anyway.

And Harry was still waiting in Little Whinging. Sirius itched to see his godson again. The last time he had seen Harry, he had to leave him behind in Hagrid’s arms. He had begged Hagrid to give Harry to him, but when Hagrid had refused, Sirius had left the boy. Had abandoned him. He still remembered the way the boy had reached for him, crying for his mom and dad, reaching out for Uncle Pa’Foo.

On his way, Sirius dug through several waste bins to find something edible. He missed Kakashi’s cooking already, but he wasn’t squeamish. He had lived 12 years off of grey, tasteless paper mâché-like mush. In comparison, what muggles threw away was pretty okay. He even struck gold in the dumpster behind a supermarket, where somebody had dumped so much still edible food, that he could feed an entire family with it. Of course, in his dog form, he had no pockets, to take more than he could carry in his mouth, and he wasn’t comfortable turning to his human form just to eat, so he quickly ate what he could, before he was shooed away by the shop owner.

He dragged an entire loaf of bread with him.

It was long past nightfall that he finally came upon Little Whinging. He’d been slower than he had hoped, still tired from the days of marching before.

Sirius didn’t remember Petunia’s address, but he did remember her husband’s last name, so he tore his way through a muggle phone book until he found the information he wanted. Dursley, 4 Privet Drive.

He found the address just past 11. Something wasn’t right though. He felt magic buzzing in the air the way he wouldn’t expect it in a muggle neighborhood, even if a wizard or even a few lived here. People in wizarding robes were standing around the street, shaking their heads, brandishing wands, and muttering spells that he couldn’t hear from the distance.

He wanted to stay away, wanted to turn tail, and run…

The way he had done with Kakashi! But not again. Something had happened here! Something had happened, and his godson was somehow involved. Surely, he was. After all, this was his address.

Lily and James would gut him if they knew, he’d even considered abandoning their son again.

He quietly snuck closer. Ducking his dog body into the hedges surrounding the premises. The dark covered him like a blanket, he had to rely on that – or at least on the fact that nobody knew of his animagus form.

The wizards and witches all around Privet Drive were ministry officials. He recognized their uniforms, but he couldn’t get close enough to read the badges on their chests to find out which department they were from. Several of them hurried from house to house to obliviate Harry’s neighbors.

At 4 Privet Drive, Petunia and… that had to be her husband and son, although Sirius had never met them before – stood with pale faces, the parents hugging their boy. Sirius was certain this wasn’t Harry. He was the right age, but he didn’t look anything like the Harry he remembered, nor like Lily or James. Harry had black hair and green eyes. This boy was blond. Sirius remembered Lily telling them, that her sister had a son that age too. So, it had to be him. He looked a lot like his father too. Both blond and fat. There was another woman, looking very much like Mr. Durlsey, sitting in a garden looking dazed, with a small dog jumping around her and barking loudly.

Where is Harry?

He couldn’t see the boy anywhere. Worry crept into his bones. Logically he knew that this might just be a case of accidental magic of a minor – these things could happen – but if so, where was the boy? In his mind, he remembered similar scenes during the war. Images of muggle families standing dazed next to the scene of a crime, of ministry officials rushing from house to house, desperate to erase all signs and memories of a massacre that had taken place. Images of bodies left behind mangled and torn, showcased like a present for the aurors or order members to find.

Sirius had never seen how the world after the war had evolved. He had been captured right at the end of it and had never seen freedom again until he had jumped into the angry sea just two weeks ago.

So, when he thought of pale and shocked muggles, of obliviators rushing from house to house and the clear worry several of the ministry officials seemed to exude… Sirius had only one association in his mind.

He quickly jumped out of the way, when one of the obliviators ran past him to the next house, muttering under his breath. Sirius heard the name ‘Harry Potter’ but nothing else. Worry clawed at his insides, made him feel sick.

He was still too cowardly to do anything with the ministry officials all around him, so he waited until they disapparated one after the other. The Dursleys had already turned back into their house. Sirius knew they would likely have fewer answers than the witches and wizards who had just left, but they would have to do… He was too scared to ask anybody else.

Jumping over the hedge into the Dursley’s garden, he bumped his snout against the terrace door. It was closed. Not even thinking about what he was doing, he quickly turned, pressed down against the handle, and then threw his entire weight against the glass door. It didn’t budge. He heard noise from the inside. Somebody heavy – maybe the boy – thundering down the stairs. He bent down to take one of the decorative stones from the terrace, smashed in a window, without hesitation and put his arm through it to open the door from the inside.

The boy… Petunia's son came running into the kitchen with wide eyes. He looked at Sirius, face twisted in panic. Then just as Sirius barged through the door, the boy turned and made to run back into the corridor. Sirius saw him take in a deep breath to scream.

Sirius jumped after him, wrestled him to the ground, and slammed a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. The boy’s yell was muffled down to a terrified squeak. It was more difficult than he had thought, with how much the boy weighed compared to Sirius’ haggard form.

“So, if I understand this correctly, your…Uhm… ministry will pay for all the damages,” a man’s deep voice came out from the room next door. “When can I—”

The voice died down the second somebody opened the door to the corridor. Two men looked down on Sirius and the boy. The first one – the one who had spoken – Harry’s uncle, filling almost the entire frame. The other, much leaner and taller, looking over his shoulder.

“You!” Dursley yelped in surprise, shock freezing him to the spot. The other man was quicker to react. He pulled Dursley away and made a quick lunge towards Sirius.

Sirius hadn’t known there was another wizard left in the house until he felt the tip of a wand pressed painfully against his temple.

“Dursley, get out of here!” The wizard commanded. “And you… Let go of the boy. Slowly.”

“Where is Harry?” Sirius asked his voice shaking.

“You’d like to know huh? Get away from the boy!” The wizard hissed. His voice sounded a little strained as if worried but being the only one present with a wand and having it painfully digging into Sirius’ skull gave him power.

This time, Sirius followed the command. Slowly his hands let go of the boy. He made to climb back to his feet, when the wand switched warningly from his temples to his neck, pressing him down.

“Uh-uh, you’ll stay down there, and show me your hands.” The wizard hissed. “Boy get out of here. Your parents are already waiting outside. And you…”

“Tell me, where Harry is!” Sirius barked out. He was in no position to give commands, but fear made him unreasonable. If something had happened to Harry…! It was too late for him anyway. There was nothing he could do, short of attacking the wizard, which would surely just end with a Stupefy in his back… if he was lucky.

“You’ve given us quite the shock,” the other man said. “But you’re predictable after all…” The wand tip pressed down hard. “You think there’s a promotion in for me, for recapturing You-Know-Who’s right-hand man? KEEP YOUR HANDS UP!”

Sirius flinched at the sudden yell, putting his hands up higher. “Please…,” he begged, “what happened to Harry? Where is he? I’m inno—"

“Stupefy.”

**   

It turned out the portly little stranger was Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. Kakashi remembered Sirius talking about him, and just like that he didn’t like the man. This was the leader of the institution that had abandoned his friend in this horrible place called Azkaban.

While Kakashi paid a lot of attention to the minister, the older man hardly even looked at him. He had only eyes for Potter and if the boy weren’t still holding on to Kakashi’s sleeve, the shinobi would have long left. Fudge explained that apparently floating his aunt wouldn’t have any consequences for Potter and that the ministry had already dealt with the issue and altered her memories.

Kakashi was curious about the memory-altering thing, but he got way too distracted by the way, the minister was fawning over Potter. He looked at him the way one would look at a prized toy, and he spoke in a tone as if they were old friends, although Kakashi was certain that they had never spoken before. He tried to urge Potter to eat and drink and make himself comfortable while talking about the floating-aunt incident as if it was – though regrettably – a quite common occurrence.

“I always stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays and I don’t ever want to go back to Privet Drive.” It was the first time Potter spoke since the minister had appeared. But it wasn’t the first time, that Kakashi had the impression, that things weren’t easy for the boy. Fudge didn’t seem to understand that. He quickly brushed the words aside and continued with his explanation.

Kakashi finally ripped his sleeve free from Potter, though instead of leaving him with the minister, he sat in one of the empty chairs and ate some of the food that Potter wasn’t even touching. He sniffed some of it before, but then quickly decided that although it was so sickly sweet, he might get diabetes from it, it wasn’t poisoned. Even the bread was somehow sweet.

They were in a small lounge with dark wood furniture. The owner of the dingy pub – a bald man with a hunchback called Tom – had let them into this room while giving them an almost toothless smile. Kakashi had utterly failed to guess his age. They had used their sticks…wands to light a fire in the chimney and now it was slowly getting oppressively hot in here. Kakashi found it more and more uncomfortable.

Potter and Fudge continued their conversation. Potter seemed convinced he would get punished for the floaty-aunt but Fudge seemed to see no reason for punishment, even though Potter had apparently broken some sort of law prohibiting underaged wizards from using magic.

“It was an accident! We don’t send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!” Fudge cried out.

Kakashi almost spat out his tea with his involuntary snort. Poor choice of words, he thought. The mention of Azkaban had made him tune back in on the conversation.

It was the first time Kakashi had made a noise at all, and suddenly all eyes were on him.

“And who are you, if I may ask?” the minister said with a suspicious frown. “Harry is this a friend of yours?”

Potter looked at him contemplating. “I just met him,” he answered eventually. “He lives in the neighborhood.”

Fudge stared at the boy. “You just met him?” He sounded irritated. Then his eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. He fumbled with his overcoat and— Kakashi ripped the wand out of his hand the moment he pointed the tip at him.

“What?” Fudge gaped like a fish at his empty hand, then at Kakashi who now stood in front of him, when he had just sat at the table a second before. Lastly, his eyes narrowed down on the wand in Kakashi’s hand. He paled a little. “Give that back!” he pointed with a trembling finger at the piece of wood.

Kakashi had no interest in keeping the stick. It was worthless to him. Now that he held it in his hand, he could feel no power coming from it. He was a little disappointed with that. Obviously, the wand was both a weapon and a useful tool for wizards, but to Kakashi, it looked and felt like a crooked piece of wood with a leather handle.

“How dare you?!” Fudge cried out, finally finding his countenance again. “Do you even know who I am, brat? I am the minister of magic!” Gone was the fatherly voice he had used with Potter. Burning angry eyes were drilling into Kakashi.

“Mah,” Kakashi shrugged, “I didn’t like it when you pointed it at me.” He explained, twirling the wand in his hand, and then offering the wand back at the man, handle first.

Angrily, Fudge grabbed for his wand. Then, however, he seemed unsure what to do with it.

A small chuckle distracted them. Potter was watching with big eyes and a stupid grin on his face. Fudge looked at the kid, and almost immediately the angry lines on his face smoothed again. “I was just surprised,” he explained in a somewhat meek voice. “I didn’t know of another wizard living in Little Whinging.”

Potter’s mouth formed a small ‘oh’-sound. “Do you know where all the wizards live, minister?” He asked in a kind tone, apparently trying to smooth the tides a little and not giving Fudge another reason to point his wand at people again.

Fudge scratched his head, ruffling up his neat grey hair in the process. He gave a nervous chuckle. “Of course not, Harry, but…” His eyes flitted across the room looking for words. Kakashi didn’t like the man at all.

“But,” Potter continued the sentence for him with a small nod, “I’m special. I see.” He didn’t look happy as he said it, but instead of crying about it, he gave a tired shrug. “He’s not from Little Whinging. He says he’s from Horley.”

“Ah,” Fudge looked a little relieved then. “So, he’s a friend from Hogwarts?”

When Kakashi didn’t answer, Potter gave him a wry look. “No, he said he doesn’t go to Hogwarts.”

Fudge seemed confused. “Durmstrang then?” he offered, sounding as if something didn’t add up in his mind. “What did you say your name was?”

Kakashi hadn’t said anything about his name. He hadn’t been asked before. “Charlie Major,” he recalled the name he had given earlier.

“Major… that’s not a wizarding family, I know?” Fudge shook his head. “Muggle parents, then?” Kakashi gave a short nod. “How come you’re not in Hogwarts? You would’ve gotten a letter when you turned eleven.”

Kakashi gave a shrug. Fudge looked at him suspiciously. Kakashi could see it itching in his fingers to grab for the wand again. If he pointed it at Kakashi a second time, he’d lose it once more.

Then, finally, Fudge nervously dragged his hand through his hair. He looked back at Potter, awkwardly. “In any case, Harry, I’m sure, Tom has a room for you.” He looked at Kakashi uncertainly. “Do you need a room, too?” It was obvious from his tone, Fudge had to force himself to include Kakashi in this.

“I don’t think I have enough money—” Kakashi started.

“I’ll pay for it,” Potter quickly offered already looking for coin in his pockets.

“No, no,” Fudge interrupted him, looking awkward. “I…uh… I’ll deal with that.”

Potter looked confused, but he stopped searching for money. There were a thousand questions written all over the boy’s face, as he looked after Fudge when he left the room. Kakashi heard the sound of his steps stop just outside the door. He heard Fudge whisper with Tom in the corridor. Neither of them left the vicinity of the door as if they were worried about something.

“I don’t get it,” Potter’s whisper distracted Kakashi from listening in on Fudge and Tom. “Why aren’t they punishing me? And what’s with paying for my room?”

Kakashi looked at him. “You offered to pay for me too,” he countered. “Thanks, by the way.”

Potter looked a bit sheepish. “Yeah, but… I mean he’s the minister. What’s he even doing here?”

“And your Harry Potter,” Kakashi replied evenly. The name didn’t really mean much to Kakashi, apart from being (hopefully) his ticket to find Sirius again. Yet, to the wizarding world, Harry Potter was obviously somebody special.

Apparently, he had chosen the wrong words. Potter’s gaze darkened a little as he evaded Kakashi’s eye contact. “Yeah, right…”

Before Kakashi could even contemplate apologizing for maybe offending the boy, the door opened again. A pair of suspicious eyes shot to Kakashi, then softened visibly as they traveled to Potter. Fudge obviously didn’t like his presence around the boy.

“Room eleven’s free,” he said to Potter, then quickly glanced at Kakashi. “And you can have room 14.” Tom shuffled into the room behind the minister. “Harry, I’m sure you’ll be very comfortable. Just one thing, and I’m sure you’ll understand… I don’t want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you’re to be back here before dark each night. I’m sure you’ll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me.”

Kakashi was reeling. Muggle London? Did that mean there was another wizarding London – this Diagon Alley place that Fudge was talking about? Sirius had mentioned that wizards could hide placed from muggles overlapping with the real world. But entire streets? Was there a magical London hidden within London?

He got giddy with excitement, not even caring to listen to Potter’s confused question, why anybody would have to look out for him.

If there was such a hidden magical place here, one of those that Sirius had mentioned… a place hidden away in another sub-dimension, maybe here Kakashi could start learning about magical dimensional travel.

“Have you had any luck with Black yet?”

Potter’s question made Kakashi’s thoughts grind to a halt. Sirius! He peered at the Minister. Curiously, the minister looked back at him, frowning in suspicion.

“What was that?” Fudge laughed awkwardly. “Oh, you’ve heard – well, no, not yet, but it’s only a matter of time. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed… and they are angrier than I’ve ever seen them.” He shuddered nervously. Kakashi could smell fear coming out of every pore of his body.

There it was again… The Azkaban guards… What was it with these guards to make everybody fear them so? Just like in the Knight Bus, Potter showed no reaction, knowing apparently as little about the Azkaban guards as Kakashi himself.

“Now, ehm… If you’d already go to your room, Harry?” Fudge suggested holding the door for Potter, his eyes twinkled kindly at Potter, but then settled much more seriously on Kakashi. “I’d like to talk to your…eh…friend, please?”

Potter didn’t move. His eyes narrowed suspiciously at Fudge. Kakashi could see him push his jaw forward in a defiant motion. He was half certain, Potter would soon jump to stand up to Fudge if the minister dared to do something to his new friend. It was clear that Fudge didn’t trust Kakashi, and apparently, even Potter had noticed and was ready to defend Kakashi.

It made Fudge chuckle more nervously. “Just a minute, Harry. About… uh, your friend’s education. Him not being in Hogwarts, that must have been a mistake.”

Potter seemed uncertain whether to believe the – for Kakashi – obvious lie. “Just go,” Kakashi said a little impatient. Whatever Fudge wanted, he should get it over with quick, and Kakashi saw no reason to fear the minister.

Still unsure, Potter nodded and left the room, not without turning to Kakashi one final time. Then, just as he left, he asked the minister: “So, will he join us at Hogwarts, then?”

The minister seemed unhappy with the answer, but he gave a vague nod if only to appease the boy. When the door fell shut, leaving Fudge and Kakashi alone, Fudge stared at Kakashi.

“So, where did you get the Polyjuice?” he asked with narrowed eyes. He was grabbing his wand tightly, but not actually pointing it at Kakashi, maybe rightly afraid he might lose it again.

“The what?” Kakashi had no idea what he was talking about.

“Don’t sell me for a fool, Black. A magical kid pops up in the village right next to Harry Potter. A muggleborn kid who doesn’t go to Hogwarts?” He laughed as if the idea was absurd. “You could’ve come up with a better lie. That must have been quite unlucky for you, that the boy managed to call the Knight Bus just before you caught up to him, huh?” He grinned snidely. Kakashi was sure he was already imagining the headlines at having caught Black all by himself. Well, Fudge was making a fool out of himself.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, minister,” Kakashi said using the title in an attempt to feign respect.

Fudge snorted. “Is that so? Well, as I just stepped out, I had one of my subordinates check your story. There is no muggleborn wizard called Charlie Major in Horley.”

Shit… They had a registry. Kakashi should have known that. Mind reeling, trying to come up with a believable excuse, he tried to win some time.

“Well, I’m not Black. I didn’t even know about Black until a week ago.”

Fudge lifted his wand a little. “Well, it would be easy to check if you’re using Polyjuice,” he said. “And then, I’d be curious to know who helped you. Already got into contact with your old—”

He was rudely interrupted when the door burst open behind him. It bumped against him, making the minister fall forward, letting go of his wand in shock. He made a rather undignified yelp.

“Minister Fudge, boss!” a young witch all but exploded into the room, hair wild, pink, and disheveled looking ecstatic and proud.

“What?” Fudge said, hastily standing up again, patting down his clothes, and then looking for his wand. Wide eyes settled on Kakashi.

Kakashi picked up the wand as it came rolling over the carpet toward him. This time, he wasn’t so quick to give it back to the minister. He didn’t fancy being threatened by it a third time, and he wasn’t entirely certain his transformation would last against whatever Polyjuice-detection spell the minister wanted to test on him.

“What are you doing there, boss?” the witch asked confused frowning down at the minister, who stiffly clambered back to his feet. “Anyway, not important. We have him!”

Fudge, still frowning at Kakashi, seemed to only listen with one ear. “Who. Tonks, be clear! I thought Shacklebolt taught you to give detailed reports!”

“Black, of course, sir,” she grinned.

Kakashi paled. It was a good thing Fudge whirled around at that moment and couldn’t see Kakashi’s visible shock. “What do you mean you have him, I thought…?”

“Yes. He just appeared at Privet Drive. Quite reckless if you asked me,” the young woman said smartly. “The guys from the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad were just finishing up with his family when he suddenly came bursting into the room. Kept asking where the boy is and what happened. He didn’t even have a wand.”

Fudge blinked multiple times, stared at the witch as if her story was absolutely absurd. Then he turned back to Kakashi, shaking his head. “I…Well, it seems I have been mistaken.”

“No worries,” Kakashi grit out through clenched teeth. He didn’t care at all about Fudge suspecting him anymore. Instead, his mind was reeling. Sirius was caught!

“Where is he?” Fudge turned back to his subordinate, grabbing for the cloak that was hanging over one of the big armchairs.

“We have him in ministry custody,” she answered. “Ready to be shipped off to Azkaban, first thing in the morning.”

“Great!” Fudge exclaimed sounding gleeful. “That will look nice on the front cover. Maybe there’s enough time for a good picture.” He quickly threw the cloak over his shoulder and didn’t even bother to close the buttons. With a last glance, at Kakashi (“Enjoy your stay here, Major.”), he took his wand back and was out of the door, closing it behind himself with a heavy thud.

Kakashi stayed back, stunned.

Sirius had been captured! He would be brought back to Azkaban in a few hours. It was long past midnight. There wouldn’t be much time to get him out! Azkaban! That place everybody talked about as if it was hell on earth. He remembered the first time he saw a starved and sickly dog on the beach. The first time, the dog had turned into a trembling, haggard man, looking like a skeleton with sunken eyes and pallid skin wearing nothing but rags with the scars of shackles around his wrists. He remembered the despair in those eyes… A man only 33 years old looking almost twice his age.

The way everybody paled at the mention of the Azkaban guards.

Kakashi didn’t really know anything about Azkaban, but he would die before he’d let these people throw his friend back in there!

He quickly hurried to the window fumbling a little with the unfamiliar mechanic until he got it open. Down on street level, he could see Fudge and the witch hurry out of the pub with fluttering cloaks. Kakashi climbed out of the window, sticking to the wall of the building. He’d just have to follow them to find Sirius.

They hurried around a corner into a small alleyway. Kakashi followed right after them, unseen. Then, there was a sudden crack.

They were gone… Shit!

Chapter Text

“How do I get to the Ministry of Magic?” Kakashi barged into room 11 without even knocking. Ministry custody, the witch had said. He just hoped that meant Sirius was actually in the ministry and not some other facility. At least he wasn’t in Azkaban yet.

Potter stared at him with wide green eyes. He had his trunk half unpacked. Clothes were strewn around the entire room. Kakashi didn’t care about the chaos. He had only one thing in mind.

“The ministry!” he demanded impatiently. “How do I get there?”

“What do you want in the ministry?” Potter asked instead of answering. He sounded like Kakashi’s urgency was amusing to him.

I’m going to free a convicted mass murderer. Sirius Black, you might have heard of him. Kakashi huffed in frustration. He quickly had to come up with a different explanation.

“Fudge wanted to help me get into Hogwarts, but then he just up and left. So, now I’ll go to him.” He should start writing all his lies down so he wouldn’t mix them up.

Potter laughed out loud. “You want to…,” he shook his head. “He’s the minister of magic. Surely, he has better things to do. Just write a letter.”

Kakashi was annoyed. “Sure, great. How do I do that? What’s the address?”

“I have no idea. But I bet an owl will find it.” Potter gave a shrug.

Kakashi’s eyes narrowed to small slits. “What do I need an owl for?” He was quite certain owls were a kind of bird.

Apparently, he had said something wrong. Potter looked at him with huge eyes. “To send a letter,” his voice tilted in a way as if Kakashi’s question had made him uncertain.

“You can send a message with an owl?” Kakashi asked surprised. In Konoha, they used specially trained hawks, that could fly between certain spots, or on trained routes. Birds who found their destination even if the wizard didn’t know where the destination was? Was it some sort of summon?

“Yeah,” Potter pointed to his birdcage. “If you want, when Hedwig returns, you can send a letter with her.”

Hedwig…? Kakashi quickly brushed his questions aside. He didn’t need an owl. He needed the address of the ministry of magic, and apparently, this boy didn’t know it.

“So, you don’t know where it is?”

Potter shook his head. “No, but as I told you…,” something in Kakashi’s face made him stop. “What’s so important about it, Charlie? Hedwig will be back tomorrow.” Kakashi almost missed that Potter used his made-up name. “Why the hurry?”

Kakashi turned to search for the innkeeper. “I just really want to go to Hogwarts,” he called back to Potter because it was the best he could come up with.

He ran down to the pub and saw Tom at the bar. “How do I get to the ministry?”

“The ministry?” Tom gave him a toothless grin. “It’s too late.”

For a moment Kakashi panicked. Too late? Had they already done something to Sirius, that he couldn’t undo? Shit! Why had he just left the bridge? Why couldn’t he do it right once! He couldn’t even keep somebody safe in a world without a single shinobi in it!

“Visiting hours ended at seven.”

What? Kakashi’s spiraling thoughts stopped to a halt.

The man spit into a rag and cleaned a tumbler with it. Kakashi absentmindedly decided to never eat here. “Yes, yes. Visitors only until 7 pm. You’ll have to wait for the morning.” He pointed at the clock, that was stuck at 11:48 o’clock. Kakashi knew for a fact that it was past midnight. Kakashi scowled. Was the innkeeper joking around?

“When do visiting hours start again, and how do I get there?” He didn’t care about visiting hours. If necessary, he would break in. But he wouldn't be so stupid to tell Tom.

Tom looked at him for a moment. “They thought you were Black,” he chuckled, then he rummaged in a drawer under his bar. “Guess they were wrong about that, huh?”

“Yes,” Kakashi said impatiently leaning over the counter to see what the man was doing.

Tom drew out a frayed and dirty sheet of paper. Kakashi realized it was a street map, though not a very detailed one. Tom took a pencil and marked a cross on the map, then circled another section.

“That’s the Leaky Cauldron. Over here, that’s the visitor entrance for the ministry. Visiting hours start at 7 am. It looks like a red phone booth.” Tom offered. He turned the map around, scribbled a series of numbers on the other side.

Kakashi took the map, peered at it to get an idea of how far it was. There was no scale though. He had no idea about the distance.

“Thank you.” He moved up to room 14. The one Fudge had already paid for. The key was in the lock. The room was dirty, small, and entirely empty apart from a bed, a table, and a chair. He quickly locked the door, then he climbed out of the window, looked on the map again, and hurried in the right direction.

Kakashi hadn’t understood the phone booth comment, until he arrived at the address, that Tom had marked on the map. There was nothing that looked like a ministry building, and as he went past the many doors on the unassuming street, none of the doors said ‘Ministry of Magic’ above the doorbells. There was a pub, a few rundown offices, and a broken streetlight. He looked at the map again and made a useless turn around his own axis. Had he read the map wrong?

Then his eyes found the red phone booth. The one Tom had mentioned. Tentatively he walked up to it. He studied it from the outside, but it looked just like any other phone booth he had walked past the days before. A secret entrance? Carefully he pulled the door open as if he expected the whole thing to explode in his face. The metal doors squeaked. He stepped in. It stank of old plastic and the trash that somebody had left in the corner. The phone booth was a mess. There was graffiti sprayed all over it, rude words, and ruder images. Somebody had smashed the telephone in so that it was crooked, and the receiver hung down. There was no phonebook here, and the inscriptions of how to use it were smeared all over with graffiti, and half ripped off the walls.

Thankfully Kakashi had learned all about using these phone boxes just this morning. He put the receiver to his ear. There was an off-beeping noise. He had no coin, he realized. Careful not to break the already broken thing he put it down again. What now? Helplessly he looked back on the map. Turned it in his hands.

There… On the other side, Tom had scribbled down a series of numbers. Shrugging, Kakashi lifted the receiver again and dialed 62442. He waited nervously and then jumped when a voice spoke from right next to him.

“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic visitor entrance. We’re sorry to inform you that you reach us outside our regular business hours. Business hours are from 7 am to 8 pm. Thank you.”

The voice didn’t come from the receiver. It was as if the woman stood with him in the small telephone booth. He was so surprised by it, that he barely registered her words until it was already over.

He couldn’t get in. How long to 7 am? Hastily, he exited the booth again. It had to be somewhere here! He channeled his chakra let it flow into the earth to find anything that might be hidden there. He was good at using earth ninjutsu. Few things could hide from him underground. At the same time as he let his chakra work through the ground, he looked again at every building using the Sharingan.

He didn’t have much hope to find anything. If the ministry was hiding in a different dimension – like he assumed that ‘Diagon Alley’-place did…

Nothing… And his search into the underground also came up empty. He found the London sewer system but that was it. Nothing…

It had to be somewhere. He refused to give up! Kakashi dug deeper. And then…

Deep underground, the earth just stopped. There was a massive empty room underground. That had to be it.

Kakashi quickly formed hand signs for an earth-style ninjutsu and then dug underground. First, he came out on the old sewer system. He didn’t take a break and instead dug deeper. It was dark, but Kakashi never had problems orienting himself while moving through earth. It was a familiar exercise. He tunneled forward while simultaneously closing the path behind him. Then his hands came upon a different material: hard stone. It was easy to break it apart. The last layer to separate him from the room below was a hard steel barrier. Using his Sharingan, he could see an odd aura lying over it like a web. It was almost impossible to make out and even more difficult to guess what it would do if he would touch it. He hesitated.

Putting his ear up close, while he just barely avoided touching the odd magic web, he listened, but it didn’t sound as if anybody was on the other side.

This aura… he stared at it again. It might be a warning spell, it might be a defensive barrier, it might only be something to protect from muggle detection. He didn’t know. Was there a chance he might die, touching it? Kakashi himself knew barrier seals that could be quite uncomfortable to run into unprepared. With these magical ones… He had no idea what they would do. He quickly created an earth clone from the rubble lying around him in the small tunnel.

The clone took one look back at Kakashi to assure itself, that the original was a safe distance away. Then it tentatively touched the aura. It quickly pulled its hand back, shaking it, as if it stung, but apparently, the damage wasn’t bad enough to dissolve the jutsu.

GRUAA GRUAA~!

Suddenly a loud alarm rang out. An alarm barrier! It could have been worse, Kakashi realized, just as the Clone punched hard against the metal, creating a significant dent. It channeled more chakra into its fist and then broke through. The moment the steel was broken, the alarm seemed even louder, blaring into the tunnel coming from the inside of the ministry. The clone put both hands through the wall. Kakashi could hear small pieces of brittle rock falling on the ground. There seemed to be another layer of stone or gypsum that the wall was made of. Then the clone used its chakra, to push the steel further apart, creating a big enough hole for it to crawl through.

It looked around, then jumped out of the hole, Kakashi following closely behind it. They were in a small office. It was dark apart from a bright orange light flaring at the ceiling. Part of the alarm, Kakashi assumed.

“Quick now,” Kakashi whispered, hurrying up to the door. Pushing it open just a bit, to peek through. The corridor was almost empty apart from a witch and wizard that quickly made their way to a set of elevators. Kakashi could make out the number over one of the elevators quickly climbing downward. He must be on the highest floor, but a small metal badge between two elevators told him this was the first floor. He quickly realized that the numbers were inverted, with the first floor being up top. This meant, the decreasing number on the elevator to the left, indicated that somebody was quickly coming up here. Probably security guards, aurors, or other wizards to investigate the incident. Surely, they could detect where exactly the breach was. Kakashi would rather avoid the fight if he wanted to get to Sirius in time.

Kakashi lunged towards the wizard closest to him and quickly dragged him into the office, without the other witch noticing. He threw him into his clone’s arm. A flurry of hand signs and he turned into the spitting image of the wizard. The wizard looked at him with huge eyes, but in the flaring orange light and with only a split second before the clone grabbed him and covered his eyes with a piece of cloth, it would be difficult for him to remember anything of Kakashi’s looks.

Kakashi left his clone to tie up the wizard and close the hole as best as it could. It would be almost impossible to hide the torn open wall and steel barrier, but at least the clone could hide where they came from. Meanwhile, Kakashi hurried to the elevators, jumping into the one with the single witch who was already pressing the button for ‘down’.

“What’s going on, Bernie?” she asked him. He filed the name away for now, though he’d have to change disguise quickly, as it wouldn’t be long for the aurors to find the incapacitated wizard, once they came up looking for Kakashi. “You think it’s Black?”

“I heard they have him in custody,” Kakashi said fishing for information.

“Yes, that’s what I mean. You think he escaped again?” Her voice was frantic.

At that moment the elevator set into motion. Kakashi grabbed a metal handle for support as it rushed downward. He considered using a genjutsu to force her to tell him where the holding cells were, but at that moment, a voice announced “Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement”

Magical Law Enforcement… That sounded about right. When the doors opened, he was ready to leave, but instead, four people rushed in. Wizarding robes fluttered and people seemed hurried and afraid. Despite the late hours, there were evidently still a lot of people working here.

Kakashi wanted out! He was about to shove against them when the doors slid shut again and the elevator went further down.

He felt stressed, stuck in such a tiny box with so many people, and if Sirius was in Magical Law Enforcement, he was even going in the wrong direction. Worried, he had no choice but to ride further down.

This time, the elevator slid all the way down to “Level Eight: Atrium.” Kakashi stepped out with everybody else. He quickly grabbed one of the guys from Magical Law Enforcement and dragged them into an empty room.

“Bernie!” The wizard cried out in a complaining whine. “What are you doing, Bernie? We need to get out, until the Aurors and Hit Wizard give the all-clear.” The wizard pulled at his arm to get free from Kakashi’s grip, but Kakashi’s fingers were locked around his wrists like steel.

He smashed the door shut behind them, after checking that they were really alone. Then, he dug into the man’s cloak, to take his wand out, threw it one way, and then hurled the man over a desk and against the wall in the other direction. He clamped his left hand around his throat and the other over his mouth.

“Bern—” The last part of the name was muffled against Kakashi’s hand. He looked terrified.

“Where is Sirius Black?” Kakashi asked, his voice cutting and dangerous. “Tell me where Sirius Black is.” The man looked terrified, indeed, but he still managed to shake his head against Kakashi’s hand. “Tell me, or I will make you!” Kakashi warned, lifting his hand a little.

The wizard took in a deep breath of air and then—

Kakashi had his voice muffled again before even the first sound of his cry for help could reach anybody’s ears.

He huffed in frustration. Kakashi didn’t like torture, but at home in Konoha, he was part of ANBU. It wouldn’t be long, and he would be a captain. Even while fighting in the war… Kakashi had learned a fair bit from the Torture & Interrogation unit. Both how to withstand it and how to use it. He would get this information.

He let go of the wizard, but before the man could even think about screaming again, Kakashi had quick hand signs formed and drowned the man into a genjutsu.

Matter of fact… Drowning sounded like a good start.

“The—The hold—holding cells! Level ten! Ho—holding Cell 12B. You’ll…You have to-to-to t-take the…the…the elevator to Level Nine and then-then the stairs. I don’t know who’s guarding him. He—He’ll be tr-transported to Az-Azkaban at six.”

It was an easy thing to make the wizard talk and it didn’t even take two minutes. Kakashi was almost disgusted with how easy the man broke, and he hadn’t even used his Sharingan. Still, it was convenient for Kakashi, so he wouldn’t complain. The man immediately lost consciousness when Kakashi lifted the genjutsu which was also convenient. He left him where he was and pushed the door open.

Just as he walked back into the Atrium, the elevator doors, opened again and a group of wizards came out with their wands drawn.

“Where’s Bernie Mallack?” One of them cried out so loud, Kakashi would have to be deaf not to hear it. “Did anybody see Mallack?”

He was already too far into the Atrium, to avoid being seen. When the first people started pointing at him, he quickly fled down the emptiest corridor he could find. The signs told him he was on his way to the visitor bathrooms. He ran around a corner, and just as he was certain that for an instant nobody would see him, he created a shadow clone and then transformed himself into the spitting image of the pink-haired witch who had come into the Leaky Cauldron earlier. How had Fudge called her? Tones?

“I got him,” he yelled out with the voice of the woman and pushed his clone around the corner towards the oncoming aurors.

“Good work, Tonks!” somebody congratulated him. “I didn’t know you were up here. Thought you’re with Black.”

Kakashi nodded. “I was there but thought you might need the help. This one probably tried helping him.” He pushed the clone forward rudely but made certain not to push hard enough to dissolve it. “It’s not really Bernie, I guess?” He put on a sheepish voice.

“Probably Polyjuice,” another auror replied. “We found Bernie bound and gagged up on level one.”

Kakashi nodded. Polyjuice, he was fairly certain by now, was the wizards’ way of transforming into other people “Then I’ll bring this guy down to level ten. He can share a cell next to his friend until we find out who he is.” He looked for any reaction as he mentioned level ten. It was always good to recheck information gathered through torture, he knew. Nobody reacted, however, so he assumed level ten was correct. He pushed the clone through the assembled group of wizards and witches towards the elevators. Two of the other aurors followed him. A man and a woman.

“He must have just used the potion,” the woman said pressing the button with an ornate-looking number 9 on it. “So, it will wear off in an hour. Then we’ll know.” She was a lithe woman with short greying hair.

“Or maybe he’ll tell us,” the man suggested kicking the clone. For a second Kakashi feared it might just dissolve, but apparently, the attack was very weak. “With the prospect of Azkaban, many dark wizards sing like birds. They think they are strong – this one even dared to break into the ministry, the fool. But if you just mention Azkaban…” The man laughed. “There look how he’s squirming.” As he laughed his big chin was wobbling.

Kakashi looked down, and in fact, his clone was playing its part well. It looked rather pale, with lips pressed tightly together. “I won’t say anything,” it said, “You’ll have to torture it out of me.” Kakashi almost snorted at the melodramatic theatre.

“Well, no need. The Polyjuice will wear off in an hour,” the witch said again as the elevator doors slid open. Kakashi went a little bit behind the other two, to hide, that he didn’t know the way. He eyed the two aurors flanking him. The man had a big meaty hand grabbing the clone’s arm tightly. The woman led the way. Before they would reach the cells, Kakashi knew, he’d have to take them out. He’d rather just knock them out in a surprise attack than risking a fight once they realized he wasn’t Tonks when they saw the real one with Sirius.

**

He woke up in a ministry holding cell.

He woke up in a ministry holding cell.

He woke up—

Sirius couldn’t think past that point. He was lying on his back on cold stone ground, staring at the ceiling. He had woken up in— Desperately, he closed his eyes, pressed his palms against them to hide the itching there. He had lost.

Back to Azkaban… He couldn’t do that anymore. He had tasted freedom for barely two weeks but he hadn’t actually achieved anything apart from terrifying a fourteen-year-old Japanese wizard, who likely didn’t even know he was a wizard… and then making a fool of himself, as he stormed into the Drusleys' house to…

Harry!

“Where is Harry?” He asked out loud. It was the first time he spoke since he had woken up in the min— “Tell me what happened to him!” He climbed to his feet, turned to the steel bars, and searched the eyes of the hard-faced auror who stood opposite him with crossed arms, wand tightly gripped in his right. He knew this man… “Tell me Gibson, what happened there?” The man didn’t seem inclined to answer. He frowned disapprovingly. “I looked everywhere for Harry, but he wasn’t—”

“Don’t speak to me, Black,” Gibson commanded. Deep lines furrowed on his brow that made him look older than he was. Sirius grabbed the steel bars. His hands were shackled, as were his feet. He wouldn’t stop to consider his bindings. There was a panic attack waiting, lurking, and building up in the back of his mind, but he was desperately pushing it away.

He needed to know if Harry was alright!

“Come on, Alaric! We’re old friends.” Friends was maybe too strong a word. Alaric had been a year above him in Ravenclaw. He’d been better friends with Lily and Remus than he’d been with Sirius.

“I was Lily’s friend,” Gibson said matter-of-factly, but his eyes were drilling holes into Sirius. There was hatred on his face. “And then you murdered her.”

Sirius took half a step back before he remembered that he knew that. He knew, everybody thought him guilty. This was nothing new.

Pull yourself together! Harry’s the most important now!

“I didn’t—” he started.

“Don’t talk to me again, or I’ll force you to shut up,” Gibson warned.

Sirius snapped his mouth shut. His teeth clinked quietly.

Give him a moment, Sirius thought. Give him a minute to get used to your presence. Then you can ask again.

The door to the ministry dungeons banged open. A bit of light spilled in from the corridor outside.

“It’s true,” came an ecstatic voice. He knew that voice. It was the last human he had heard before his escape from Azkaban.

“You seem surprisingly sane, Black,” hateful eyes stared down at him. A disgusted sneer on thin lips.

“Minister. Do you think you can part with your newspaper?” How he enjoyed the moment of bafflement on Fudge’s face. “I so enjoy the crosswords.”

“The first man to ever escape Azkaban,” Fudge came sauntering up to the cell looking through the bars at Sirius. Sirius tried not to duck away from him and another memory of Azkaban.

No point to avoid the memory, you’ll be back there soon enough.

“Did you think it would be so easy? That we wouldn’t catch you?” He leaned close to the bars. Close enough for Sirius to grab him, but he knew if he would, he’d regret it.

“Where is Harry?” Sirius asked quietly, trying to stick to reason, trying not to rage against the bars like the madman they were surely expecting. “What happened there?”

“What?” Fudge hooted. “Did you think maybe your precious Lord came to kill him?”

Indeed, he had thought of that. Maybe Voldemort was back, and nobody had told him. More likely, though, was a death eater who had avoided capture. Fear gripped his heart, made breathing difficult.

“Well, you’re crowing too soon, Black. Harry Potter is safe and sound under the watchful eye of the ministry.”

Sirius looked up at him, into the minister’s face, to see if he could trust his words. The glee there was real, the mocking grin and disgusted sneer. He was speaking the truth. Harry was safe. Alive and healthy…

“Thank Merlin…” He whispered.

Fudge seemed surprised at that. “Huh… I guess, you really want to do it yourself? I see, I see. Well, this was your final chance.” He reached into his cloak and pulled out an old hourglass. “In four hours, you’ll be back to Azkaban. You get the first ride on the ferry. Feel proud: You’re VIP cargo to be sent off to Azkaban to be a VIP guest there. We’d like to find out how you did it? However, I think it might be more important—”

He was distracted when there was a knock at the heavy door to the cellblock.

“Ah, just when I was getting impatient. Tonks, could you get the door please?”

Sirius's head snapped up. Tonks? That was…! His eyes traveled to the young woman in auror trainee uniform that had come in with Fudge. He hadn’t really given her a second thought, before. Tonks…

He shuffled over to the side of the cell closest to her. The chains around his ankles wouldn’t allow for wide steps. Then he leaned against the bars, held them tight in his hands. The metal was cool in his palms.

“Tonks… You’re Andy’s daughter.” He said. The woman already half on her way to open the door froze and stared at him. “You were eight when I last saw you,” he said. “Do you remember me?”

“Can you make a pig’s nose? Make a pig’s nose?” Sirius laughed lifting his cousin’s daughter up on his shoulders.

She giggled. “How does a pig’s nose look?” She held on tightly to his hair, ripping a few strands. It hurt a little, and he knew she was destroying his style, but kids were the only people who were allowed to do that. Well, kids… and James. Out of necessity. James refused not to mess up his hair, and Sirius loved him too much to kill him to make him stop.

“What you don’t know pigs? Didn’t you ever see a pig? Ted! Ted, come down here. You’re eight-year-old daughter never saw a pig!” He yelled up the staircase.

Andromeda giggled from where she set in front of the chimney in the living room. “Sirius, don’t scream like that! We’re in London. What do you think, where would she get to see a pig?”

Sirius looked at his cousin utterly scandalized. “Take her out of the city some. You can’t have her go to Hogwarts without knowing how to turn her nose into a pig’s snout.”

“Yes, Mama!” Dora yelled from his shoulders pulling again at his hair in a way that made Sirius wince. “I need to know how to turn into a pig!”

“Why would she need to know that?” Andromeda shook her head.

“It would be a waste if she couldn’t! She’s a metamorphmagus. That’s the greatest party trick ever, and you’re denying her that by never showing her a pig!” He threw his hands up in mock frustration. “It’s unfair.”

“Yes, Mama,” Dora said after him, throwing her hands up too. “It’s unfair! I need to know that.”

“What nonsense are you teaching my daughter, Black?” Ted appeared at the top of the stairs, grinning widely at the picture before him.

“Your daughter can’t turn her nose into a pig snout,” Sirius explained in a serious tone.

“You can’t?” Ted asked his daughter.

“No, dad, I don’t know how it looks. I only saw drawings of pigs, but that’s not enough.” She sounded dejected. “But Uncle Sirius is gonna teach me, right?”

“Right!”

“Damn… I guess we focused too much on the bunny ears, huh?” Ted muttered.

Sirius laughed.

“You two are the worst,” Andromeda declared, walking up to the living room door. “You’re turning my daughter into the class clown. I will have no part in it!” But Sirius saw her hide a grin as she pushed the door shut.

“Do you remember me?” he asked again in a more pressing tone, now. “Can you do the pig snout?” he heard himself ask sadly.

Dora stared at him. Her hair changed from bright pink to a more subdued mouse grey.

“Tonks! Hurry, will you!” the minister bellowed.

Dora jumped. She stepped on the end of her own cloak and tripped, only catching herself against the door. “Sorry, sorry,” she muttered and pulled the door open.

“Ah, Minister Fudge,” a new witch joined the group in front of his cell. Curly pale blond hair and a heavy jaw. In the flickering light of the single torch lighting up the corridor, Sirius saw penciled eyebrows. Her glasses blinked oddly, and he took a moment to realize, that there was jewelry embedded into the frame. She seemed oddly familiar, but he couldn’t place her. “I was delighted to get your floo call. Is that him?”

She bowed forward to inspect Sirius closely like an animal in a zoo. Sirius backed away a little. He almost stumbled with the chains around his ankles.

“Yes, yes, that’s Black,” Fudge replied gleefully. “I’m glad we can finally close this chapter.” He had put on his minister-voice, Sirius realized. Who was this woman?

“Luitpold Degenhart,” the woman said, pointing to a young man with a long nose, that somehow reminded Sirius of Snivellus’ beak. However, it wasn’t the nose that made Sirius stare at the man. It was the unwieldy items he held in his hand. “You told me to bring a photographer, so I brought the best one the Daily Prophet has to offer. Louis, what do you think? Do we want the bars in the picture? To make it visibly clear, that he is caught again?”

She wasn’t really looking at her photographer instead, she was walking up and down the length of the cell to look for a good angle.

“Will the light be a problem?” Fudge asked. “Should we get more torches?”

“No, we’ll use our own lights,” Degenhart said setting up a big wooden tripod in front of the cell. He then took out the wand and immediately the entire cell area lit up bright white. Sirius stumbled back shielding his eyes. This time, he tripped over his chains and landed heavily on his tailbone. He hissed.

Fudge laughed. But Sirius had already jumped up to his feet again.

“Dora!” He cried out for his niece. “Dora, I promise, I’m innocent! Tell your mother, please. I—”

“Silencio.”

His jaw worked, but no words came out. Sirius screamed in frustration but remained utterly silent.

“I like that despair,” the woman – Rita Skeeter he now recognized her – said with a gloating grin on her lips. “Can we get that again?”

Stunned, Sirius stared at her.

Fudge answered: “Oh of course, In fact, just when you knocked, I was about to share an idea I had with Mr. Black.”

Sirius glowered at the minister, who still held his wand pointed at Sirius from when he had spelled him mute.

“Ah, do I have your attention again, finally?” Fudge asked. “Very well. I was just about to tell you, that we’d love to find out, how you escaped from Azkaban, but then, I was thinking… Maybe it’s more important to make an example. What do you think, Black?”

Even if Sirius had anything to say to that, he couldn’t. He scoffed. What kind of example? Cut down his already mediocre provisions? They’d starve him to death. At this point, he’d even welcome that to another twelve or more years in Azkaban. That was the problem when one already had the maximum sentence. No way to make it worse.

“So, I thought about bringing back a rather old punishment. In fact, I think it wasn’t used by the ministry since even before you were born.”

Anger at Fudge’s gleeful tone made him ignore what the Minister had just said. But then just as he strolled up to the bars to try and spit him in the face, the meaning of Fudge’s words caught up to him.

And suddenly, instead of grabbing the bars to rattle at them, to glare at Fudge and wish him the plague and a painful death, now he needed the bars for support.

They couldn’t!

Please, no!

Not the Dementor’s Kiss.

“The Dementor’s Kiss…” Fudge announced, happy like a child in a toy store. “What do you think, does that sound like a just punishment for escaping your sentence and making a fool of the ministry?” He strolled up to the bars, grinning down at him.

He was so close, Sirius could strangle him, but Sirius didn’t have the energy for that. All fight had drained out of him. And then he found himself on his knees. Hands still gripped around cold iron. And he couldn’t breathe.

His heart was hammering in his chest, his breath was hitching and stuck in his throat. His chest hurt. And there it was… The panic, that had been brewing in him since he first woke up here. It was choking him.

Zzzz Pfaff!

He violently flinched at the loud explosion of gun powder from the camera.

“Beautiful,” Degenhart praised his own work.

“Very nice,” Skeeter said. “I think we can hold the interview at a less dreary place?”

“Of course,” Fudge agreed, now casual. “After you, my dear. I really need to kick the Gamot, so they finally lift the ban on the Dementor’s Kiss.”

“So, it’s not decided, yet?” Skeeter sounded almost disappointed.

“Well, politics is a slow business. It will be soon enough.” He held the door for Skeeter and her photographer who had quickly put together the tripod, the camera still mounted on top of it and put out his magical lights. “Ah, before I forget it,” Fudge remembered absentmindedly. “Finite Incantatem.” He flicked his wand into the air, and then closed the door behind them.

With the return of Sirius’ voice, ugly noises filled his cell. First, he thought he was crying, and he started wiping at his non-existent tears, but then he realized… He was laughing. Why was he laughing again?

Fuck! Stop laughing!

But choked, panicked, barking giggles filled the entire cell block. His shoulders shook.

Stop laughing!

He bit down on his palm so hard it hurt.

And then his laughter was overtaken by blaring sirens.

Chapter Text

Gibson and Tonks were ready. Standing in a dueling position in front of his cell, pointing their wands at the door.

“What’s going on?” Gibson asked. His voice was steady, unlike Dora’s when she answered.

“I don’t… an intruder? That’s the alarm for an intruder breaking through the…through the physical barriers. But how?” The tip of her wand shook a little. She was afraid. Her voice was a bit too fast, the words tumbling out of her mouth.

Sirius didn’t pay them much attention. He had finally stopped laughing, but now he cowered tired and afraid in the furthest corner away from them. If he had more energy, he would try to strike up a conversation with his niece…but there was nothing left. The sirens were giving him a headache.

They would give him the Dementor’s Kiss and that would be it. A fate worse than death.

Befitting for a traitor. But he was no traitor. Befitting for a fool?

What had he thought, trying to escape from Azkaban?

But there was a part of him, that thought, it might have been worth it. He hadn’t saved Harry of course. He hadn’t even seen him. He hadn’t killed Peter. He hadn’t achieved anything. But he had experienced kindness again. He remembered the smell of rosemary and thyme and a young teenager preparing a meal for him.

Was that worth his soul? Because he would pay for it with his soul, he was certain of that. Sooner or later, the Wizengamot would approve the motion. That congregation of old fools and sycophants had never done him any good. If they hadn’t approved it by tomorrow morning, they would soon enough. Maybe in a few months, or even a year. But they would eventually. And then he would be the first man in who knew how many years to get all cuddly close and personal with a Dementor.

He would write history. The first fool to escape Azkaban. The first to be sentenced to the Dementor’s Kiss by the Wizengamot – disregarding Voldemort’s short reign of terror when he controlled the Dementors – for at least fifty years…

Bravo, Sirius. You made history. Your mother would be proud.

And still, there was a part of him, who thought it might have been almost worth it. He had traded his soul for two weeks of stumbling through English lessons and traveling the country and breaking the Statute of Secrecy with Kakashi. And really? That was better than what he had expected, when he had jumped into the ice-cold sea, convinced he would drown.

He had been happy. And maybe Kakashi would think of him as more than just a murderer.

And that was worth his soul, he thought. Because it was more than he could’ve hoped for three weeks ago.

Three weeks ago, he would’ve sacrificed his soul thrice over, just to experience a kind touch again, to hear a kind word again. To have somebody ruffle his fur, or feed him, or carry him on their back…

A fate worse than death, he thought. But worse than death didn’t necessarily mean worse than life, did it?

If only he could have protected Harry. If only… He wondered whether James and Lily would be angry at him if they would be disappointed, the way he was disappointed at himself. He thought about how to face them again… But then he remembered that he wouldn’t have to.

Without a soul, he wouldn’t be able to move on in death. He wouldn’t have to face anybody in death. He would just disappear. A shell without a soul… and then at some point not even that anymore. He would die in Azkaban, but he had known that before – with or without his soul. Did that even make a difference then? He remembered that the dead were buried right there on the island. Azkaban had its own graveyard.

An empty shell buried in Azkaban. A funeral with only Dementors in attendance. Wasn’t that what he had been all along? Wasn’t that his life for the last dozen years, anyway?

What a waste of a life…

What would be the last thing, he would see before having his soul sucked out?

For a moment, he imagined the marauders and a full moon. The howling of a wolf. A child with a dog plush in a crib. A pair of sparkling green eyes. The greatest chaser Gryffindor had ever seen. The smell of rosemary and thyme, and a grey-haired boy with a single eye smiling at him…

But then he remembered that that would be impossible. By the time the Dementors would suck out his soul, they would have already taken all the good memories. That and any other memory as well. And then he knew, what the last thing he’d see in his life would be. He could imagine it already because he had seen it – one way or the other – almost every day for 12 years.

James thrown away and hanging in the banisters of the stairs in his house. Lily’s wide and lifeless green eyes. A street full of blood and the traitor laughing in his face. The taste of failure on his tongue.

BANG

The door burst open. Sirius flinched, turned towards the door out to the corridor. Two people stood there. He didn’t know one of them, but the other…

“Tonks?” Gibson asked in confusion.

“I’m here!” Tonks yelled from behind him. “It’s poly—” but before she could finish the sentence or do anything else, one of the two intruders suddenly appeared in front of her – how was he apparating? Apparating in the ministry was impossible! – And smashed a fist into her belly and then chopped her with a flat hand into the neck. It was so quick, neither Sirius nor Gibson could do anything against it.

“Tonks!” Gibson yelled out.

“Dora!” screamed Sirius, jumping up to run to her, but his feet were chained together, and he fell flat on his belly, hitting his chin against the ground and biting his tongue. The cell wasn’t very big, though, so he dragged bound hand forward, gripped the bars, and pulled himself closer.

“Stop, Black!” Gibson cried, but he didn’t dare take the wand away from the two intruders. “Stu—” he yelled out, but the rest of his curse died in an ugly gurgling sound before Gibson collapsed as well.

With trembling hands, Sirius stretched his arms through the bars and grabbed onto Dora’s cloak. He pulled her closer. With a quiet sound, her wand rolled away from her, and away from the bars until it stopped when it hit Gibson’s boot. Sirius could’ve stretched a bit further and caught it, but he didn’t even see it. His attention was focused on Dora’s still body. He pressed his fingers against her wrist, not finding a pulse, but his fingers were trembling so hard, he couldn’t be sure. He moved them to her throat.

“She’s just unconscious,” the other Tonks said, walking up to the bars, as the man took up position next to the door leading into the corridor. “You know her?”

Sirius didn’t answer. Who was that? It had to be somebody using Polyjuice, but why? What did they want from him? Not once, after the sirens had started, had Sirius even considered that it might have anything to do with him.

“What do you want from me?” he asked as fake-Tonks inspected the lock to his cell. For a moment, he considered if fake-Tonks wanted to kill him next.

She might have said that Dora wasn’t dead, but she looked dead to Sirius, and he still couldn’t find the pulse. Oh god… If he was the reason his niece had died…Andy and Ted would never forgive him!

“Can you do a pig snout?”

“What nonsense are you teaching my daughter, Black?”

“But Uncle Sirius is gonna teach me, right?”

Oh, Godric…

“We’re getting out of here.”

In his panic, Sirius almost missed fake-Tonks’ answer.

“We should hurry,” the stranger continued, “I don’t want them to find the bodies outside, while we’re still here.”

Fake-Tonks looked up from the lock to look at Sirius, frowning at the chains. Then she turned back to the cell door. “I’ve never seen such a mechanism. Where’s the keyhole?”

Alohomora, Sirius thought, from a ministry-approved wand.

Dora’s wand was still in reach for him, but he didn’t even see it. He didn’t answer.

A bright light, the flickering of shadows, and the chirping sound of a thousand birds. The lock broke open. The stranger just put her hand through it, and odd lightning-like energy smashed right through.

I’ve heard that sound before.

But that was impossible. Dora was still… unconscious—fake-Tonks had said unconscious—and he could hear Gibson’s gurgling breaths. And what with the ‘bodies outside’?

“What do you want?” he repeated, unable to form a single coherent thought. Because the only thought that came into his head was absurd and impossible. This was not Kakashi!

“I told you, I’d get you out of here,” fake-Tonks said again, now kneeling before him, still with that odd energy in her hand. Lightning. It cut through the chains on Sirius’ ankles like butter. “Your hands,” she demanded.

Sirius didn’t move. “Who are you?” he asked.

Fake-Tonks didn’t seem concerned with his lack of cooperation. She grabbed for his chains with one hand, held it up, and then snapped it in two.

He was free, Sirius noted dazed. The cuffs were still around his ankles and wrist but the chains were broken, and the door was open, and his guards were…were… If the stranger meant it, that she was here to save him… she was clearly doing it… but…

Sirius pushed fake-Tonks aside. He stumbled to his feet and bolted out of the door. But instead of running for the corridor and towards freedom – though he had no idea how to get out of the ministry yet – where the unknown man had taken up position, he turned around towards Dora. He came to a skidding halt, crashing to his knees beside her.

He pressed his ear against her chest. There! Unmistakably, there was a pulse.

“I told you, she’s unconscious,” fake-Tonks said, standing in the door to the cell. “We need to leave.”

But Sirius made no move to leave. Instead, he twisted around towards Gibson, who was slumped against the wall.

Gibson had his hands gripped around his neck, but as he lost consciousness, his hands had sacked down, now resting in his lap. His face was purple-ish and his neck had swollen. Sirius pulled Gibson away from the wall, laid him out straight on the ground, and pressed his ear against his chest.

He thought he could hear something, though it was unsteady. “It’s only very weak,” he said to nobody in particular. He moved to the auror’s face and tried to catch the sound of his breathing. “I don’t think he’s breathing.” His voice trembled. Feebly his hands pressed down on Gibson’s chest.

1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8.

“I crushed his windpipe,” fake-Tonks said, “I’m sure of it.” She said it in a flat affect as if there was nothing wrong with the sentence.

“Who are you?” Sirius screamed at her.

9-10-11-12-13-14-15.

He pressed down on Gibson’s chest, again and again, using his body weight to get some leverage. The auror’s body was much heavier than his own malnourished one, but it rocked with every time Sirius pressed down on his sternum.

16-17-18-19-20.

“Oh, right,” fake-Tonks said. There was a small poof, and Sirius noted out of the corner of his eye, that something had shifted, but he was too focused on Gibson to see it.

21-22-23-24-25.

He quickly glanced to fake-Tonks—

And froze.

“No…”

There, standing before him, with his typical bored look, was Kakashi. That couldn’t be true. Kakashi was kind and…and a child! But this person— This person standing before him was a killer. He had seen it. He had heard it, the flat affect in his voice.

“Don’t sell me for a fool,” he bit out through clenched teeth, desperate for this not to be true. This couldn’t possibly be true!

He realized he had missed a beat, and he quickly turned back to Gibson.

26-27-28-29-30.

Kakashi walked up to him, grabbing his shoulder, just as Sirius shuffled on his knees to reach Gibson’s mouth so he could breathe for him.

1.

“His windpipe is crushed,” Kakashi said, “that won’t help.”

“Shut up!” Sirius ordered between breaths.

2.

He made a sudden motion with his arm, shaking Kakashi’s hold away from him.

“Get away from me!”

He heard Kakashi retreat. It wasn’t far enough. This fake-Kakashi. As fake as fake-Tonks had been!

He moved back to pump Gibson’s chest.

“We need to go,” Kakashi stressed now from a safe two-step distance.

“I can’t go!” Sirius spoke louder than intended. “Not like this. He’ll die if I leave.”

“He’ll die anyway,” Kakashi was too calm about it. “And they’ll send you back to Azkaban.”

The Dementor’s Kiss, he thought. But he couldn’t leave. Not like this.

“What are you even doing here?” He asked, “Why?” There were tears in his eyes now. He slammed his fist against Gibson’s chest as he reached 30 again. Sirius knew he was losing him.

He glared angrily at Kakashi. “Why did you come? Fuck!”

“I told you,” Kakashi said. His eyes were round circles. There was confusion in them and hurt. Them… Two eyes.

The other eye, the one he had normally covered was open now. As wide as the other. It wasn’t gone, Sirius thought dejectedly. Kakashi had said it was gone. Instead, it glimmered in the light of the fire, shone a bright, gleaming red. There seemed a sort of pattern in it, but Sirius couldn’t be sure in the bad light.

“I don’t let my comrades die.”

Sirius remembered then. Before Kakashi had even known, who he was, he had ruffled the dog’s fur:

“I don’t let my friends die.”

Sirius snorted but he didn’t feel amusement. Fake-Kakashi indeed. The real Kakashi had called him a friend. This one used the word comrade. Like they were soldiers fighting a war. Sirius had fought a war, alright. But Kakashi hadn’t been a comrade in that war. Alaric Gibson, the guy whose life was currently running through his hands, he’d been a comrade in the war! They’d joined the auror office together.

“I don’t even know who you are,” Sirius mumbled not even looking at Kakashi. He was again bending down to breathe for Gibson.

1-2.

He had blood on his lips, from where it came up Gibson’s throat.

A hard hand gripped his shoulder. “You need to go.” Kakashi’s voice was hard now. Not leaving any room for an argument. Sirius rammed his elbow back. Kakashi either expected it, or he just had good reflexes, because he easily caught it. He grabbed the arm and pulled Sirius up.

“Let me go!” Sirius cried out. “I can’t leave him.” He fought, but Kakashi relentlessly dragged him backward.

“I won’t let my comrades die,” he said again. Said it like a mantra.

“I don’t fucking care!” Sirius yelled. “You shouldn’t have come. He’s my friend!” Friend was maybe a bit much… But he’d been Lily’s friend. That was enough.

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi said and he sounded like it.

But Sirius didn’t really care about him sounding sorry and looking hurt. Who did that? Who just ran around killing people?!

“I don’t care!” Sirius bellowed seething with anger. “Get away from me! Don’t touch me!” And this time, as he tried to get away, he ripped free of Kakashi’s hold.

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi said again. He sounded confused, but he turned and knelt next to Gibson. His hand moved along his body, then it stopped at his neck. There was a soft green glow coming from his fingers.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked suspiciously, ready to walk up to Kakashi and stop him, but he was held back by the man behind him. For the first time in a while, he looked back at the man. “And who are you, huh? A friend of Kakashi? And I thought you were all alone,” he mocked. He glared back at the boy. “You made a fool out of me, didn’t you?”

“I’m not good at healing,” Kakashi said, ignoring the other things Sirius had said. “But I’ll try my best. Just… please, let me take care of this, and you go!”

Sirius was inclined to do it. To let Kakashi stay here with his mess and leave. He didn’t really want to be close to Kakashi right now. However, there was a part of him, that feared that ‘taking care of this’ meant killing Gibson.

“If he dies,” Sirius warned. “I’ll never forgive you. Do you hear me? I’ll hunt you down, and if it’s the last thing I’ll do.”

With what he had seen of Kakashi’s skills just in the last 15 minutes, it might very well be the last thing he would do. But it wasn’t like he had any other use for his life. He was already on a path to revenge and scheduled for a date with a Dementor. Among the options he had, dying via crushed windpipe didn’t seem the worst.

Kakashi looked at him, then he nodded. There was regret on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said again. The third time now, Sirius had counted. “Keep him safe.”

Sirius was confused at first, what Kakashi meant, then he realized, he was talking to the stranger in the room. Sirius still didn’t have a name. Before he could ask another question or reconsider his options, however, the stranger, grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the room.

Bodies outside, Sirius remembered. Where they dead? There were two people slumped next to the door. He was about to ask, about to rip himself free from the stranger, when a hard punch against his temple jerked his head sideways. His body slumped down. The stranger had hit him!

For a moment he thought he smelled rosemary and thyme. And then he was out.

Chapter Text

Kakashi felt the lingering effects of chakra exhaustion weighing down his eyelids. The earth jutsu, the clones, the genjutsu, and the Raikiri had cost two-thirds of his chakra, and whatever he had left he was now pouring through his hand into a dying man’s throat.

It wasn’t the first time he regretted that he had no talent in medical ninjutsu. He knew some basic first aid, but Rin had been their squad medic.

Rin… He tried to shake off his memories of her. That wouldn’t help him now. It would only distract him from what he had to do.

Damn it. Desperately he used more of his chakra.

Why had he attacked the way he had? He hadn’t known! He should’ve gathered more intel before blindly barging in and hurting good men and women… Sirius’ friends… No wonder the man was angry! If this auror died, there was no way, Sirius would ever forgive him. And why should he? Kakashi would’ve murdered his friend.

Obito’s eye was itching again. It hadn’t itched ever since he came to this world. Furiously, he pushed the bandages down to hide it again before he returned to his rudimentary healing. In his head, he tried to think if there was anything in his medkit, that could help in this situation, but he came up empty. So, all he could do was pour more chakra into an irreparably crushed throat.

He knew, there was nothing he could do. If he had Tsunade’s skills, sure, he could save him. Surely. But Kakashi didn’t have healing hands. His hands could only kill. Kill his enemies…Kill his friends.

Kakashi!

Rin was staring at him. His hand was red with her blood.

“He’s my friend! If he dies, I’ll never forgive you!”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into his mask.

“I’ll hunt you down!”

And he knew Sirius would. He had seen it in his eyes.

In this world, without war, Kakashi could bring only destruction. He’d known this… But he thought he could control himself, pull himself together. Idiot!

Have you learned nothing?

He could feel the life slipping from the body in front of him. He couldn’t let him die!

“HELP!” He screamed. His voice was higher than it would normally be, trying to make himself heart. “HELP! There’s somebody injured! Please!”

He had to hope that this magic could heal too. And why shouldn’t it do that? Sirius had said it could do everything. It was the only chance, Kakashi had left. His own medical ninjutsu was pathetic. His chakra was running lower and lower and he didn’t even know if he made it better or worse. The only option he had left, was to hope that magic could heal this man.

He thought it was futile. There was a rational part in his mind – a part that could think logically even in the worst situations – that told him, that the man was lost. Basically already dead. His heart was still beating, weakly, but he wouldn’t have gotten any oxygen for minutes now. Kakashi pushed that thought aside, though. Magic! Maybe magic could help.

He yelled for help again.

A sudden rush of memories overcame him. He remembered crawling through a dark and tight tunnel, through wet earth. He remembered dragging a body with him. Then the moldy stench of the sewer system. He remembered collapsing the tunnel. Then quickly carrying Sirius on his back until the distance to the original body became too far. The clone had put Sirius down, patted him on his cheek, and then dissolved the second grey eyes opened, blinking in confusion.

A wave of exhaustion hit Kakashi, then.

Still, the clone’s memories were enough of a wake-up call, to smother his rising panic about the fate of the man in front of him. Sirius was safe! It took a weight off his shoulders, and he was able to think more clearly again.

The witch, he remembered. With a burst of chakra, he jolted her awake.

“WHAT?” She yelped with a loud cry. Kakashi jumped at her violent awakening. Confused and disoriented, she looked around. Kakashi hadn’t gone through the effort of transforming again, but he was still turned away from her, focusing on the other auror, so she only saw his back.

“Where is Black?” she asked, but then she saw the unconscious, dying auror. “Is that… Merlin, Alaric!”

“Can you help him?” Kakashi asked moving away when she came crawling towards them.

Tonks’ hands feebly moved over her colleague’s body. “I don’t…”

Kakashi felt sympathy for her – he knew how it was to lose his comrade – but he needed her to focus.

“Can you use magic to heal him?” he asked more forcefully.

Tonks didn’t even look at him. She started frantically searching her pockets. Kakashi knew what she was searching for before she asked. He knelt to pick up her wand that was stuck under Gibson’s thigh. He held it out for her to take.

“Where is my—” She saw the wand. “Ah thank you.” She dragged her hands through her hair, then she pointed the tip of her wand at the auror and whispered something in a language that wasn’t English.

A blue beam of light shot out from her wand and hit the auror’s chest area. Kakashi didn’t know if it was doing anything. Nothing seemed to change for Kakashi.

“We need help,” Tonks said. “Get help—” She stopped and half-turned to him. “Who are you?” But Kakashi was already gone.

Outside, he was about to turn into the minister – one final transformation – to call for help, when he heard steps trample down the stairs. He quickly hid, before he was seen.

“Bloody hell, what happened here?” Somebody yelled out, as they found the two aurors Kakashi had dropped earlier. He didn’t think any of them had died from his attack. “Quick! Call the healers!”

“Check for Black!” he heard the minister’s hysteric voice. “I will not let Black escape again!”

A group of three people rushed past Kakashi, wands raised. They burst through the door into the cellblock.

“He’s gone,” one said. “Where the fuck did he go?”

“Tonks!” another yelled out. “What happ—Is that Alaric?”

“We need somebody down here. Alaric is injured!” A witch screamed back into the corridor.

“Where is Black?” he heard the Minister ask, still with the two unconscious aurors. “Is Black still—”

“He’s gone, Fudge. Almost killed Gibson. We need to hurry.” The witch responded.

Kakashi chewed on his lip. They thought Sirius had done that. He’d just wanted to help Sirius. Instead, he had very likely killed Sirius’ friend and made the ministry think, he’d committed the murder.

He balled his fists. He felt Obito’s eye itching. He had to get out of here.

Kakashi didn’t dare tunnel through to the surface again. He had managed to get in that way, and the clone had fled with Sirius using the same method undetected. They knew he had physically broken through the wall, but as he listened in on them, he heard, that they weren’t at all sure how he had done that. The idea, that somebody might have dug a tunnel all the way from the surface, didn’t really come to them. Instead, they threw around theories about ‘apparating’ just outside the magical barrier into a pocket of soft earth or maybe a prepared cave and then exploding through the walls.

Kakashi realized both that he likely wouldn’t be able to do that again if he had to break into the ministry a second time – as they were already talking about updating their wards – and that he’d have to find a different way to escape. The fact that they didn’t even consider the idea that somebody had dug a tunnel, meant they wouldn’t figure out, that Sirius Black had fled over the London sewer system. If Kakashi used the same method to flee, he risked just one more opportunity for them to figure it out.

So instead, he stayed in the ministry for hours, until it was 7 am in the morning and the ministry employees came to work. In the sudden rush of people, it was surprisingly easy to escape. The process of stepping into a burning furnace with the writing ‘visitor’s exit’ above was still rather unsettling.

He found himself back in the phonebooth, thoroughly confused. Somebody was knocking at the dirty and cracked glass.

“Hurry a little, boy. You’re not the only one with an appointment.” He stared at a woman with a striped pajama shirt, and sunglasses.

Why was she wearing pajamas and sunglasses at 7 in the morning? The sun hadn’t really gone up yet. Shaking his head about the witch’s odd fashion sense, he exited the telephone booth and quickly left for the Leaky Caldron.

He snuck back into his room through the window and fell on his bed tiredly. Chakra exhaustion was dragging him down. He wasn’t quite at his limit, but close enough, and hiding for hours in an unknown place from wizards with unknown powers had been tiring as well, even if he hadn’t used a lot of chakra, then.

Hopefully, the auror would be okay, he thought, just as he slipped into restless sleep.

**

Harry ate breakfast at nine. Tom was scurrying around him, asking him if he needed more eggs, bacon, butterbeer, pumpkin juice, apples…

Harry knew he was famous, so he wasn’t really surprised, nor was it the first time that people were doting on him like that, but he never liked it. Never mind that having to go from being treated as a disliked and unwelcome servant in Privet Drive, to the famous, very much welcome, and admired Boy Who Lived was still a jarring experience for him. He would never get used to that he knew. Why couldn’t people just treat him like a normal boy?

“Toast?” Tom asked lifting a basket of bread in his face. Harry shook his head irritated. “Olives? Fried doxy legs?”

Ugh…

“No, thanks.” He pushed the plate with the fried doxy legs away. “I have everything.” Demonstratively he picked up a big spoon full of beans and shoved it in his mouth. “Yumm,” he hummed even though they tasted slightly gooey.

Tom limped away but Harry had no doubt, he’d be back in a few minutes, offering Dragon Tongue Sausage and Grindeloh-Blood-Soup…or some inedible thing like that. Harry quickly shoveled the rest of his mundane English beans and egg with bacon and toast in his mouth and left back to his room before Tom would inevitably ruin his apatite with some of his exotic magical specialties.

He longingly thought back to the last few days of last year’s summer holidays. His best friend, Ron, and his brothers had rescued him from the Dursleys, and he had spent the rest of the holidays with the Weasleys. Molly’s cooking had been amazing. Of course, she had also doted on him, but it was different from Tom’s doting. Molly had treated him like her own son. A way too thin and underfed son – granted – who needed to add at least five pounds in fewer days, so she felt satisfied that he would survive the journey to Hogwarts without dying of hunger… but still. He’d rather liked it, even if he’d been embarrassed. Harry never had a mother, and he thought that was how it would feel.

As he opened the door to room 11, he brushed the memory aside. There was no point longing for what he couldn’t have now. Instead, he should enjoy what he had. Sure, Tom’s doting was a little annoying, but all in all, Harry had every reason to be grateful. This time in the Leaky Cauldron could be fun. After all, he still had almost an entire month to the start of the new school year and no Dursleys around to tell him what to do. From his room, he could look straight down into Diagon Alley and he had three weeks to do whatever he wanted. He didn’t get punished, nor expelled from school and so far, he hadn’t found Voldemort hiding in his wardrobe to kill him in his sleep.

Actually – now that he reconsidered – this could turn into the time of his life.

He let the door fall shut behind him. Taking a two-step run-up, he dove into the bed. A bit of dust puffed into the air and the coverings smelled of moths, but the mattress was soft and warm. Harry giggled and listened. In Privet Drive Vernon or Petunia would burst into his room just about now, to ask him about the ruckus he was creating in the morning. Instead, all he heard was the noise of businesses opening down in Diagon Alley, and a kid crying in a room above him somewhere.

Lazily he turned on his back and watched the cobwebs over the bed. He couldn’t find many spiders, but the entire ceiling was covered. A few flies were stuck there long dead.

Eventually, with a loud sigh, Harry raised himself again, to unpack his suitcase. He had started with that during the night already, but then he’d become tired and left most of the clothes just strewn around. He wanted to put them into the wardrobe, but he found a giant spider there. Harry wasn’t Ron. He wasn’t afraid of spiders, but this one was almost as big as his elbow. He didn’t fancy having to look at it, every time he opened the wardrobe, so he put his clothes back in the trunk and tied one of his red and gold Gryffindor scarfs around the handles of the wardrobe to make sure, the spider couldn’t push the door open and get out in his sleep. He also made sure to tightly shut his trunk again. He had no desire for any of the vermin to crawl into it.

He was distracted by the sound of something knocking against glass.

“Hedwig!” He cried out happily. He had worried if she would find him here, but of course, Hedwig was a smart owl. “I’ve missed you.” He opened the window, then set up the birdcage on the side of his desk and opened it for Hedwig to enter. The great snowy owl hooted, poked at the bars, and then sat on the perch with a haughty little nod of her head. “Here.” He fed her some owl treats.

Oh right.

He had almost forgotten Charlie’s odd visit that night. Did he still want to ask the minister about getting to Hogwarts? Probably, Harry thought. It would be pretty great, to have a Hogwarts friend living so close to him. Horley really wasn’t far away. And as for Charlie…

Well, no wonder he really wanted to go to Hogwarts. It was the best that had ever happened to Harry, and in this case, that wasn’t just because his time with the Dursleys was horror. He knew for a fact, that even kids from nice families looked forward to getting to Hogwarts. Hermione was a muggleborn witch like Charlie, and she loved Hogwarts. Then again… Hermione was Hermione and Hogwarts was, well, a school. Of course, Hermione loved it.

Hedwig still looked a little tired from a long flight. He wanted to give her at least an hour or so to rest, but he could still tell Charlie that she was back.

“I’ll be right back,” he told Hedwig. “Rest a little. I might need you later.” He took his keys and left his room.

Fudge said, Charlie would be in room 14. That was just opposite his room, with the window out towards muggle London.

Harry knocked. Charlie might still be asleep, Harry mused. He hadn’t seen him at breakfast. Then again it was already past ten. When there was no response from the inside, Harry testily put his hand against the handle.

Surprised, he realized that the door was open.

“It’s me: Harry,” he announced himself as he came in. “I come in.” Harry didn’t feel bad about bursting in. After all, Charlie had done that too – and maybe sharing a dorm room with four other boys had made Harry a little apathetic against such intrusions of privacy. Who knew… If Charlie was put into Gryffindor, they might share a room as well. He seemed about his age.

Harry stepped into the room, but then he stopped short. It was empty. Confused he looked around. The bed looked used, but that aside, there was no sign of anybody living in the room. He couldn’t even find Charlie’s shoes anywhere. The room was a bit smaller than his own, and there was no big wardrobe – though admittedly Harry could’ve forgone the wardrobe and the giant spider in it, as well. The window was open, and the curtains blowing softly in the wind.

“Mah…” A sigh came from behind the door, then Charlie slouched out of his hideout. If he had meant to surprise Harry, he was doing a bad job. His shuffling steps and the loud sigh made it obvious where he was before he showed himself.

Charlie scratched the back of his head, disheveling his brown hair in a way that it looked almost as wild as Harry’s own. He was fully dressed, even with shoes, wearing the same hoodie he had worn the day before. His mattress creaked as he sat down on it.

Harry looked behind the door, to see what Charlie had been doing there – if he clearly hadn’t meant to give Harry a scare – but there was nothing there. Just the blank wall and the same cobwebs he could find in his own room.

“What were you doing there?” Harry asked.

Charlie shrugged with one shoulder. He didn’t answer. Harry let it pass.

“Anyway, do you still want to write to the ministry? Hedwig,” Harry interrupted himself, “uh… you know, my owl? I told you.”

He waited for a reply, but Charlie just looked at him with a blank stare. He looked tired, Harry thought. Harry couldn’t really place how he knew that the other boy was tired. There were no bags under his eyes, but he still looked exhausted. The way he had slouched as he moved, the shuffling steps… His eyes were drooping a little. Well, it had been past midnight when Charlie burst into his room that night… Then again, it wasn’t exactly early morning.

“Anyway, my owl is back now. So, if you want to write that letter…” He was about to just leave again. The way Charlie stared at him was unsettling. Yesterday, they had gotten along just fine, but now Harry wasn’t so sure if he wanted to be friends with this guy. He was almost a bit creepy. “Uhm… Hedwig needs to rest now, but, just…tell me, if you…”

“Do you have something to write?” Charlie asked.

Harry sputtered when the boy finally spoke. He was immediately relieved. Having to lead the conversation all on his own wasn’t his forte. “Yes, of course, just…” He turned towards his own room and was surprised when Charlie stood up and followed him. “You can just wait…” he stopped when he caught the other boy’s eyes. “Never mind, just… you can write the letter in my room, I guess.” Charlie gave a slow nod.

Harry nodded as well, not knowing what else to do. There was just something about Charlie. He didn’t speak much. First Harry had thought that it was because of the accent, that he might not feel comfortable speaking English – or wasn’t very good at English – but something told him, that wasn’t the reason for Charlie’s silence. He seemed lazy, every step he took exuded an overt laziness – from the slouch to his slow drawl to the droopy eyes – yet something told him the other boy watched every step he made.

He opened the door to his room and stepped aside to let Charlie in. “Okay, come in. Um, the desk is over there, let me just…” He hurried to his suitcase and picked out a quill, ink, and a piece of parchment. He hesitated. “You know how to use that?” Harry asked uncertainly.

Harry hadn’t worked with quills ever, before coming to Hogwarts. He’d left a right mess on most of his homework for the first semester. Professor Snape had dutifully subtracted points from all his work just for that, even when he had Hermione check it over to make sure it was correct.

Charlie gave him a considering look, but then he nodded.

“Oh, great.” Harry handed the stuff over. “I didn’t when I first got to Hogwarts.” He laughed embarrassed. “I still prefer pens.” He made a gesture as if holding a pen. “They are just more convenient, you know?”

He had the odd sense that Charlie thought, he talked too much, but Charlie never said anything, and Harry felt like he had to fill the silence. Instead of complaining about Harry’s monologue, Charlie dipped the tip into the inkwell and…hesitated.

Harry could sympathize. He wouldn’t know how to start a letter to the ministry. He still wasn’t even used to writing to his friends, and always fretted over the lines. Writing to the ministry… “I’ll just leave you to it,” Harry said. “Take your time.”

He sat on his bed and picked up one of his old history of magic books. Those he thought, were the most interesting. Shame, that Professor Binns regularly made him fall asleep during class. He didn’t remember anything from last year and still didn’t know how he had passed the test.

After reading about the Goblin Wars for a quarter of an hour, he looked up to see if Charlie had written anything. He found the boy looking at him.

“Are you done?” he asked standing up, but already as soon as he stood and could see the parchment in front of Charlie, he realized the boy hadn’t even written a word yet. Harry frowned confused.

“You didn’t write anything yet?” He shook his head. “Just start with ‘Dear Minister Fudge’ if you really want to write to the minister himself. Or maybe ‘Dear Sir or Madam’ if you want to keep it more…vague.” He shrugged.

Charlie nodded as if he had only waited for that information. He turned towards his parchment, dipped the quill into the ink, and started writing. Harry looked over his shoulders. He still doubted Charlie’s skill with the quill. But, as the other boy put the tip down for the first letter, Harry was stunned. The script was neat and tidy, leaving no unwanted spots or smears. Even more than that, Kakashi had an almost artistic way of using the quill. He seemed to make conscious decisions about when to make broader strokes and when to make the lines as thin as hair.

Harry was a little jealous, but at least he understood now, how the boy had learned to write with a quill.

“Could’ve told me you’re taking calligraphy classes,” Harry muttered. “I really embarrassed myself when I doubted your skill, huh?” He followed each stroke of the quill with fascination. Something was odd though. The writing looked like the font was copied from a regular newspaper. Neat, tidy, each letter the same height. “Do you write in Times New Roman?” Harry laughed.

“What?” Charlie asked with a confused frown.

“Never mind, it’s just funny. You’re like a typewriter. Anyway, you made a mistake there.” He pointed at Charlie’s first word.

Normally, he wouldn’t bother pointing out spelling mistakes, but it would be embarrassing for all parties involved if Charlie sent a letter to the Minister, and the very first word was already misspelled. Charlie looked at where Harry was pointing, but he didn’t seem to find the issue. Harry frowned worriedly.

“Dear,” he explained. “It’s written with EA, not with EE. Deer, with EE is an animal.” Charlie looked at him blankly. “Like a stag.” There was still no recognition in his eyes. Harry put his hand over his head to form antlers. “Forest animals with antlers, you know?”

“Ah,” Charlie finally understood. He quickly dipped the quill into the ink and then to Harry’s utter shock, he sketched out a stag on the parchment. It was a simple sketch, without any shadows or anything, but it looked great. Charlie hit the proportions spot on. Each stroke with the quill was certain and confident. With a quill, no less.

“Wow,” Harry was stunned. “That’s awesome. You’re really good. Yes, that’s a stag.” He took the drawing from Charlie. “Can I keep that?” He didn’t really expect Charlie to agree. It was a great drawing, and to Harry, it immediately seemed valuable. He could never draw something like that. But Charlie only gave a casual shrug.

He took a fresh parchment and started again. ‘Dear Minister Fudge’. This time he wrote it correctly.

“Comma,” Harry said. However, this simple word seemed to throw Kakashi off completely. Didn’t he know what a comma was? “You know,” Harry said, he made a quick motion as if writing a comma.

Charlie understood immediately. He put the comma down where it belonged. Clearly, he had seen commas before. Did he just not know the word, then?

“Where are you from?” Harry asked, because now he was increasingly certain, that the accent wasn’t just an odd manner of speech. Charlie must have grown up somewhere else. He clearly could write and knew the letters and knew how to hold a quill, but he obviously never wrote anything in English before.

Just a few minutes ago, Harry had been jealous at the neat writing style, thinking of how Snape wouldn’t distract any points from him for ‘untidy scrawling’. However, Harry was very certain, that Snape would subtract points for bad spelling.

“Horley,” Charlie answered automatically.

“No, I mean before that. Before you came to Horley? What kind of accent is that? I’ve never heard it before.”

Charlie was just about to answer. Then he stopped himself and smiled mysteriously. “Take a guess.”

Harry was surprised, but he took it as a good challenge. He thought for a moment. “Well, I don’t think it’s an English dialect,” he started, because if it was just a dialect, that wouldn’t excuse Charlie’s bad spelling. “So not Australia, or America, Canada or New Zealand. And I’ve never heard it before. So, I don’t think it’s an Indian, German, French or Russian accent.”

Charlie was watching him closely as Harry thought out loud. Almost as if he was learning something new from everything Harry said. It was funny, Harry thought, to have somebody listen so closely.

“Your name is Charlie Major, though.” He scratched his head. “That’s a pretty English name. I’m thinking, maybe a former colony?” Charlie hesitated as if he had to think about this too. Then he gave a lazy nod. “But you’re pretty… well, pasty.” He indicated his own skin. Former colony with many white people still living there with English names, who don’t necessarily grow up with English as their first language and an accent that Harry didn’t know? Harry shrugged. “South Africa?”

“Not bad,” Charlie smiled.

“Am I right? South Africa? That’s pretty cool! From where there?”

Charlie apparently hadn’t expected the question. He took a long time to answer as if he had to think about it. “Johannesburg,” he finally said.

“Oh wow,” Harry who had never been outside the United Kingdom exclaimed. “That’s pretty cool. But it’s huge, isn’t it? Did you like it there?”

“I don’t like to talk about it,” Charlie said immediately.

Disappointed, Harry wiped the grin off his face. Apparently, Charlie had made bad experiences back home. Harry still would have like to know more. Then again, he didn’t know what had happened. He wouldn’t want to tell somebody he barely knew about his parents either.

Of course, in Harry’s case, there was no need to tell anybody. They all knew anyway. The thought made him feel bitter.

“So, you and your parents moved from Johannesburg to Horley of all places?” He asked to change the topic. “That must be boring.” Granted, Horley wasn’t far from London. But still… Johannesburg to Horley sounded like a massive downgrade.

“Just me,” Charlie replied.

Harry sputtered. “Just you? What do you mean just you? You live alone? But you have to live with somebody. Never mind why would you move to a different continent all alone. How old are you?”

“Fourteen,” Charlie answered after a while, completely ignoring all the other questions.

“Fourteen,” Harry repeated. “Yeah, that sounds about right. You’re just a kid. Why do you live alone?”

Charlie scowled. “Things happened. I really need to write this letter.”

Again, one of the things he didn’t want to talk about, Harry guessed. Harry felt like navigating a minefield. He sighed. “Do you want me to write it? You could dictate it to me. But—"

Charlie immediately jumped up, pressing the quill into Harry’s hands.

“But,” Harry continued a little irritated catching the quill, “I don’t have such a nice handwriting.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Charlie smiled at him. “Thanks.”

“Dear Minister Fudge,” he started and Harry in his blotchy writing hurried to keep up, “this is Harry Potter writing to you—”

“Harry Potter?” Harry asked with a somewhat angry frown. “Why make it about me, suddenly?”

“Well, you’re writing,” Charlie said like a smartass, “aren’t you? I mean wouldn’t it be a lie, if you wrote to the Minister that you were me?”

It would be a logical argument if Charlie weren’t dictating every word to him. Harry was just writing down Charlie’s words. He wanted to argue the point but was distracted when Charlie pointed at the parchment, where Harry had already written down his first name before had even noticed where it was going.

“And you already wrote it anyway. I’d hate to start all over again.”

Harry sighed. He knew exactly that Charlie only used his name because the minister would be more inclined to listen to Harry Potter. Then again, Harry had no problem helping his new friend.

View it as a thank you for the stag-drawing, he thought.

“Alright…” He continued writing.

Chapter Text

“Is it your first time?”

Low affect in a voice he had only ever known to be either kind or bored.

“Did you kill before?”

“I crushed his windpipe.”

The voice was ringing in his ears. Sirius violently awoke from unconsciousness.

“I’m sorry.”

What? Who was speaking to him? There was a low pop behind him, but as he whirled around, nobody was there.

Water splashed around his waist.

Sirius searched the darkness for the speaker, but he was completely alone. He was leaning against stone walls, kneeling in some sort of liquid and—

Merlin and Morgana, the stench! He was in an old sewer system, he quickly realized.

The last he remembered was being stuck in the ministry cells. Kakashi had come and killed… That low affect in his voice as he spoke about killing a man.

No, that couldn’t have been Kakashi! Sirius shook his head. He felt confusion numbing his brain.

One thing after the other, he told himself. He was obviously not in the ministry anymore. This had to be the sewers under London. He had no idea how he got here, but Sirius wouldn’t be so stupid as to waste his chance for freedom.

He felt weak, his legs felt unsure, but he managed to stand up. With the stench around him, he didn’t want to turn into his dog form. Stumbling, he took a tentative step. Now that he stood, the sewage reached up to his knees. It was dripping disgustingly from the rim of his shirt and his sleeves. He pulled his collar up over his mouth and nose to protect himself from the bad fumes.

Sirius didn’t linger much over it.

He had escaped from Azkaban of all places. The word hygiene had very much left his vocabulary years ago. Wading through shit, he held one hand against the wall, to orient himself in the darkness. Sirius had no idea about the London sewer systems. He had no idea where to go, but the stench aside… This feeling of disorientation seemed familiar.

Like exploring the secret passages through Hogwarts. If he ignored the stench and the mixture of water, dirt, and shit…he could almost compare it. He could almost hear James’ voice calling him forward.

“Right here, Pads! Let’s find the exit.”

He blindly followed where the imaginary voice that sounded like James led him.

Are you leading me to Harry? Sirius wondered. Will you lead me to your son, James? Or back to hell, to accept my punishment? For causing your death.

He shook his head. James wouldn’t do that to him, would he? Even after Sirius’ failure. Sirius blindly followed, wherever James would lead him. He didn’t even think about where he was going. Or where he wanted to go.

The image of Alaric Gibson and his crushed windpipe, the tone of Kakashi’s voice… It couldn’t possibly have been Kakashi… Sirius didn’t want to think about it. Had he caused another friend to die?

In an odd way, the stench was a comforting distraction. And then the sickness caught up to him and he puked against the wall.

He had to get out of here… and then…

Hogwarts. He’s in Hogwarts.

His goal hadn’t changed.

**

Kakashi watched the white snow owl vanish over the roofs of London. If she really was as smart as Harry had suggested, she’d reach the ministry in no time, and he could maybe already expect a response this evening. Or not, Kakashi reconsidered. Who knew how fast the ministry worked? Surely, they still had their hands full with Sirius’ escape.

Kakashi sighed. “I’m taking a nap,” he announced to Harry as he left the room. There were things he had to think about.

Earlier this morning, when he fell in bed tired and exhausted, he hadn’t known what his next steps would be. He had considered just trying to investigate magical dimensional travel and then find his fastest way home. After having almost – he hoped, it was only almost – killed Sirius’ friend, he knew the other would have no interest in his help. He wouldn’t want to see him ever again, and in any case, Kakashi had proven, once more, that he’d only bring violence into this world. Never mind, that he had heard the minister talk. The man was perfectly willing to blame all the injured – and potentially dead – aurors on Sirius. Instead of helping him, Kakashi had made it worse in the long run.

So, maybe it would be best to just leave back to Konoha as fast as he could. Conveniently, he was apparently right at the entry point to Diagon Alley, the magical London. So, tomorrow he could start researching dimensional travel here…

Then he was rudely awakened by a knock on the door and had to quickly transform back to Charlie. Harry offered to use his owl, and Kakashi remembered.

Hogwarts.

The rat would be there. He could still do something for Sirius, even if the other never wanted to see him again. He could make up for his mistake, by hunting down the rat. Maybe, he could even prove Sirius’ innocence. Do something, to make up for his mistake at least.

The new problem he now had to deal with, was that of his identity. He hadn’t meant to don the disguise of ‘Charlie Major’ for longer than necessary. He had hoped that Sirius would find Harry and him soon, and then Kakashi could join him again. But then things had happened, and now it seemed he was stuck with the name and face.

Which caused quite a few problems. Charlie Major was an English name, but even Harry – who wasn’t himself the sharpest investigator – could quickly deduce that Kakashi himself wasn’t actually English. His accent was a dead give-away. Although he was confident in his English by now, pronunciation was a different beast altogether. Harry also picked up on the fact, that he had never written anything in English before. Kakashi had spent long hours reading the language, but writing it was something else entirely. He hadn’t even known the name for the short stroke that his eyes had skipped over a thousand times, as he read the newspapers. Kakashi had never asked Sirius about that – and why would he have? A comma.

Kakashi let Harry do the work for him. And Harry did a marvelous job of finding a country of origin for Kakashi. South Africa. Conveniently, he remembered reading about the country before, so he could even give Harry a name for the city.

There were other problems regarding his identity, that he had to solve. He wasn’t in the ministries register. On top of that, he had told them he was muggleborn – he was rather grateful that Sirius had told him what muggles were. Being muggleborn, however, meant he shouldn’t just be on the magical registry, but it stood to reason, that the muggles had a similar databank. So, he’d need to find a way to explain why he wasn’t in either registry.

He had said, he came from Horley, but Horley was such a small place, if anybody made a bit of research, they’d quickly notice that nobody in Horley had ever met a boy called Charlie Major. Never mind, what would he explain happened to his parents?

Charlie Major, a muggleborn wizard from Johannesburg, South Africa who somehow ended up in Horley, England without a legal guardian, without appearing on any muggle or wizarding registry and nobody in Horley ever hearing about him.

He’d bang his head against the wall in frustration if he didn’t worry that somebody might hear and it would only cause more questions. How could he make sense of this story? Since when were his cover stories so lackluster?

So much about researching dimensional travel. Now, instead, he had to focus on finding more information to make the story more plausible. If he was unlucky, the minister would ask him to a meeting in the ministry – be that with the minister personally or somebody from the school or somebody responsible for underage wizards. By that time, he’d need his story airtight. If the minister didn’t want to talk to him, he’d need the story at the start of the term, at the latest.

Which meant… Instead of taking the nap, he had announced to Harry, Kakashi walked down to Tom to ask him whether there was a library or something like that in London. Surely, there was. London was huge after all.

Sadly, apparently, Tom had no idea about muggle London and could only give him directions to the local bookstore in Diagon Alley – Kakashi didn’t even know how to get to Diagon Alley yet. However, Kakashi was certain enough, that there had to be…some sort of library in this huge city, so he simply left the pub and the dingy little street it was in and asked a few pedestrians for directions.

South Africa, he thought. Even if he could maybe get out of talking about his ‘time in Johannesburg’ by eluding to some traumatic memory, he needed some knowledge about the country. First and foremost, he should probably learn about the language that Harry now thought was his mother tongue.

To his delight, he quickly learned, London had libraries for days with more knowledge compiled in them than he’d find in the Konoha Archives. With the difference of course, that this knowledge was all easily available, because either nobody had ever told these people that knowledge was power or… well… or they just really valued education on matters other than killing, Kakashi thought with a snort.

Using the library didn’t even cost anything.

**

He had been too naïve, Kakashi thought.

Of course, this world knew war and bloodshed. Apparently, he had the great luck of having landed in a country and time that did not currently experience war, but evidently, this world was not a warless utopia. Sirius had alluded to that as well. Kakashi remembered He had talked about a war in the past.

Kakashi hadn’t known what to make of the information because nobody in this country seemed to remember anything about war. They all seemed to feel safe. Yet, as Kakashi read up on history, he found out, that they too had fought in a bloody World War. Just fifty years ago. Granted, the period of peace was longer, than any period of prolonged peace Konoha had ever experienced. But fifty years was not outside human memory. It meant there were a lot of people still alive who had experienced and even fought in that war, who had suffered and lost family and friends.

Kakashi was both disappointed and disturbingly relieved, as he read about it. This was not the utopia he had imagined it in. Instead, it was a world violent and bloody and brutal as his own. Which meant, he hadn’t brought violence to this place. It was already there. The realization was relieving. It made this place less foreign, and him feel a little more at place. It also gave him hope he thought.

These people had fought bloody wars for centuries as it seemed. Now they were at peace. Just because, a war had happened, just because many might still remember it, did not make the peace he had felt as he had traveled through the villages, any less real. This country knew war and violence, and now it was allied with their former adversaries.

Reading up on the history of the United Kingdom and of South Africa, he learned a lot about this world. He learned that when Harry mentioned ‘colonies’ he was alluding to a violent past, where one people had ruled over and suppressed the other. He learned of struggles, of prejudice, and of terrible massacres. And much of it felt oddly familiar.

He was sucked into the history of this world and when he finally decided it was time to get back to his room in the Leaky Cauldron, one realization had struck him with surprising force:

This world was ancient.

This country was hundreds of years old, looking back on an over two-thousand-year-old history. Two thousand years of struggles of wars and violence… And yet now, old city walls and defenses only stood as a reminder of ancient architecture, as a tourist attraction or hiking destination.

Konoha was only eighty years old, and even within these eighty years so many questionable things had happened, that the details in history books were murky at best. Would they have to get through that as well? Would they take a thousand years to finally have a semblance of this peace?

In his research, as he read over cruel events and heinous war crimes, that rang familiar to his ears because he could easily imagine them in his world – he could even imagine being involved in some cases – there were certain phrases he came upon again and again. Words that made him stumble, made him look for new books on the subject, made his head spin.

Just war… Human rights… United Nations?

None of these terms seemed absolute. Rule books, and feeble consensus to protect people and nations from war and suffering. It quickly became obvious, that the rules were broken again and again. And yet still, there was a continued effort.

The reason these people enjoyed peace, he realized, wasn’t because they knew nothing of war and nothing of battle. It wasn’t because they were soft and weak. It wasn’t because they had no enemies. It was because at some point they had decided that peace and safety were preferable and because since then there was continued effort to preserve it.

It would be naïve to assume that the system was flawless, that it wasn’t still fragile. There were wars all over in this world. Even now.

Yet, to Kakashi, the existence of war wasn’t what had him stunned. To him, war was normal. What was utterly new to him was the efforts made – even by countries that weren’t affected directly – to stop or prevent it.

By the time, he fell asleep in his room, he hadn’t made any progress on his task to make his identity airtight, apart from knowing that he had to learn about a language called Afrikaans – which was thankfully closely related to English, he found out and didn’t seem to difficult all things considered. It was – English aside – not the only language spoken in South Africa, but the one he was most confident he could learn and – after his short research – made the most sense for him to pick. After all, Charlie was clearly – as Harry had put it – quite pasty.

**

Two aurors in intensive care after botched attempt to recapture mass-murderer Sirius Black

London, Yesterday, in the early morning hours convicted mass-murderer Sirius Black was recaptured by the ministry of magic. Held in London until his transport to the wizarding prison Azkaban, Black…

Harry turned to his hot chocolate, steering it with his spoon. He hadn’t even known Black had been recaptured. That must have been during the night of his arrival at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry thought. He remembered Charlie, telling him about Fudge’s sudden departure. Well, at least that question was answered now.

He looked at the new picture of Black the prophet had published this morning. It showed the madman behind iron bars. He looked slack-jawed, with wide eyes and deathly pallor. He looked even more skeletal than he had in that first picture, and he had gotten older, Harry noted. But the thing that made him unable to turn his eyes away from the man, wasn’t the skeletal frame. There was something lurking behind his eyes, that Harry couldn’t quite place. He couldn’t turn his eyes away from it.

It felt like he was intruding into a very private and intimate moment, only that this moment was captured for eternity and printed a thousand times for everyone to see. It was entrancing.

“What are you reading?” Charlie’s voice pulled him away from the picture. Having already read it anyway, Harry picked the morning edition of the daily prophet up and slid it over to the other boy who just sat on the bench opposite Harry. “Apparently the ministry had Black for about an hour, and then he all but killed two of their aurors and left again.” Harry grimaced.

Charlie paled a little and grabbed the paper. His brows furrowed a little. Harry could empathize with him. When he first started reading the Daily Prophet the characters had been almost unintelligible for him as well. Still, slowly Charlie made progress through the article.

“They survived?” Charlie’s voice was quiet, but he seemed agitated. It was in the way his shoulders didn’t slump quite as casually as they normally did.

Harry took a sip from his drink. “I don’t know. They say there were four people injured. Two of them are fine now. One is to be transferred from intensive care soon, so I guess, he’s going to be okay. The other one is still critical.” He shuddered. “Black had to have done something really bad. I know how fast magical healing works.”

Charlie looked unhappy as he handed the paper back to Harry.

“You can keep it,” Harry offered. “I’ve already read it.”

The other boy gave a slow nod. Then he folded the prophet and put it next to him on the table. “Thanks.” He looked to the wall. Then Charlie knocked his knuckles against the new wanted poster. This morning they had appeared everywhere in the Leaky Cauldron. “Those weren’t here yesterday.”

Harry nodded emptying his cup and finishing his breakfast. “They added a bounty.” He shrugged. “I mean they already offered a reward before, but now…” He shook his head as he stared at the picture. It was the same picture that was printed in the newspaper. Once more, Harry couldn’t avert his gaze from the insanity in those eyes.

“5000 Galleons,” Charlie read. “How much is that?”

“A lot.” Harry wasn’t sure himself. He had learned the exchange rates at some point in his first year, he remembered. But since he never owned any muggle money that he needed to exchange he could never quite remember. “I think one Galleon is four Pounds if that helps. Or five?”

He looked at the number below the wanted poster. He knew the Weasleys could use that money. But he had no interest getting involved in this business. If Black had escaped from the ministry – which he assumed was in London – he might still be close. Harry shuddered. Then again, Black was a wizard, and they said he had a wand too… So, he could really be everywhere.

“You don’t eat breakfast?” Harry asked. He only now realized that Charlie didn’t bring a plate with him. He didn’t even drink anything. For a moment he worried that Fudge hadn’t paid Charlie’s breakfast in advance the way he had Harry’s.

“I saw Tom spit into the dishrag.” Charlie smirked innocently.

Harry sputtered. “What? And you’re telling me now?” Dejectedly, he looked at his empty plate, but then he gave a tired shrug. It was too late, after all. He had already eaten. If Harry was honest, even knowing this, he’d probably eat his breakfast here, again, tomorrow. “So, where do you eat breakfast?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. As he looked at Kakashi, he noticed he was still wearing the same hoodie. He’s been wearing that thing for three days now. Normally, Harry wouldn’t really mention it, but… “And why are you still wearing that hoodie. It’s been three days and it has like 30 degrees out there.”

Charlie shrugged. It was a minuscule little movement. Just a tiny roll of his shoulder. “I’m not hungry. And I like the hoodie.” He sounded a bit petulant with the last word.

“But it’s hot,” Harry gestured to the closest window. Something else occurred to him. “Wait… You don’t have anything else.” He was pretty certain he was right, now that he said it.

“Of course, I do,” Charlie pouted.

“No, you don’t.” Harry was certain of that. “You didn’t have a suitcase. And you don’t have money. I had to pay the Knight Bus for you.”

“Because they didn’t change muggle money,” Charlie answered annoyed.

Oh right. Harry had forgotten about that part. “Okay, true. But later you also couldn’t pay the room here.” It made sense, Harry thought. Charlie mentioned that he lived alone and without a guardian. Where would he get money from? Harry felt almost stupid, for not having noticed it earlier. He felt even stupider for being so blunt about it. His best friend Ron didn’t have money either. His family was very poor. Ron didn’t like to talk about it. Harry should have remembered that sooner and been a little more gracious about it.

“If you want, I can lend you money,” Harry said, thinking Charlie might be more willing to accept if he didn’t offer it as charity but as a loan. “So, you can buy stuff. I mean, you’ll need school supplies anyway if you want to go to Hogwarts. That costs a lot.”

Charlie made a face. “I can’t use your magical money in muggle London,” he said calmly.

Harry was a little confused at the comment. What would Charlie need to go to muggle London for? He could buy everything he needed in Diagon Alley. He was about to say that when Kakashi spoke again.

“I don’t know how to get to Diagon Alley.”

Harry closed his mouth again, stunned. He didn’t know how to get to Diagon Alley? At this point, Harry would doubt that Charlie was even a wizard if he hadn’t seen Charlie use some sort of wandless magic to disarm the minister. Never mind that he had seen the Knight Bus, which most Muggles didn’t seem to be able to see.

“The entry is in the backyard. There’s a wall, and you need to tap a pattern with your wand. I can show you,” he offered.

Charlie looked at him for a long while until he answered. “I don’t have a wand.”

Harry froze. “You don’t—But you’re a wizard! Why wouldn’t you have a wand?” He felt squeezy. This felt entirely too familiar. Harry hadn’t known anything about the magical world until he turned eleven. His aunt and uncle had refused to tell him anything. He hadn’t even known that he was a wizard. When Hagrid first brought him to Diagon Alley, Harry had been overwhelmed. He remembered when he first arrived on King’s Cross how he hadn’t known what to do, and if he hadn’t found the Weasleys who could explain it to him, he would have missed his train. Even today there were so many things about the magical world he didn’t know. He was still learning and always jealous of Ron who had the privilege to grow up with all of this.

But Charlie…he was like Harry. Exactly like him, Harry thought. Only that he was three years older, and somehow, he must have fallen through the cracks and didn’t get a Hogwarts letter and had to navigate all this on his own. He didn’t even have a wand.

“Do you have time today?” Harry asked.

Charlie looked surprised at the change of topic. He shrugged and then shook his head. “Not really. I wanted to ask if the minister answered. And then I need to go to muggle London.”

Harry wanted to ask what he needed in muggle London, but then it wasn’t really any of his concern. It was maybe for the better. That way he had time to write letters to Hermione and Ron, tell them that he was in London and then he could go to Gringotts and get some money.

“No, I didn’t get a letter back yet,” Harry answered quickly. “What about tomorrow. Can you make time tomorrow?” Charlie looked at him patiently. Harry continued when it became clear, that the other boy wanted to know the plan first. “I just… I thought we could go shopping together. I show you Diagon Alley. You can get a wand… What do you say?”

He was half-convinced that Charlie would deny him. He hadn’t made the overt offer to pay for everything, but it was very much implied, and Harry still thought, Charlie might be too proud to accept charity. But then, Charlie gave another shrug. “Sure. At eight?”

“Eight?” Harry thought that was a little late… Wait. “In the morning?” Ugh… “Yeah sure, eight sounds great.” There was only little excitement in his voice.

Charlie smirked. That little…

Chapter Text

Harry didn’t see Charlie all day. He spent the time doing his homework that he couldn’t get done at the Dursleys’ and then sending letters to both Hermione and Ron. Because Ron was still in Egypt, he used an owl from the owlery to take the letter. If he sent Hedwig, he wouldn’t see her again for the rest of the week.

The next morning, he still felt groggy and tired and…

Where was Charlie?

Here Harry stood. He had forced himself out of bed at 7:30 in the morning to get an early breakfast. It was still during the holidays, but for his new friend, he had resigned himself to this little discomfort… And now Charlie wasn’t there.

Impatiently, Harry waited in the pub for well over twenty minutes. “This does it,” he groaned to Tom. “When he arrives, tell him to find me in my room. I go back to—”

“Yo!”

Harry jumped from surprise. There he was standing at the bottom of the stairs, hands in his pocket. Harry almost didn’t recognize him at first.

“Where the hell have you been?” Harry bellowed rudely. “I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.”

Charlie seemed unfazed. He casually pointed over his shoulder. “I was on the toilet. Are you ready?”

Ready? If he was ready? Frustrated, Harry paid the glass of pumpkin juice he had ordered just to pass the time. “Sure, let’s go.” Grumpily he stomped into the backyard. He could hear Charlie kindly wishing Tom a good morning, as he passed by. Harry didn’t bother to hold the door for him. He somewhat wished the heavy door would fall shut and right into Charlie’s face, but of course, he had no such luck.

“Watch me,” he told Charlie. “I won’t show you again.” Of course, he was only angry at the moment. He knew exactly that he couldn’t deny Charlie if he asked to see it again. He knocked against the brick stones of the wall, and as he turned around, he wasn’t even sure Charlie was looking at him. Instead, he was holding the door for two witches who had followed them to the backyard.

“Did you watch?” Harry asked impatiently, as he stepped aside to let the witches pass through the hole in the wall he had just opened. “Can you remember it?”

“It’s not that difficult,” Kakashi said as he let the door fall shut. “Let’s go.”

But Harry stopped him with a hand to his chest. The other boy visibly bristled at the contact. Harry was taken aback by the reaction. He quickly caught himself though.

“You do it,” he demanded, and with a wave, he closed the passage again. Harry had a snide grin on his lips. If Charlie thought this was just a joke… “Here. Take my wand.” Handing his wand over felt wrong, but he knew he’d have it back in a moment, so he didn’t feel any qualms about it.

Charlie looked at the wand doubtfully, but he still took it. Uselessly, he stood in front of the brick wall.

“Well,” Harry said impatiently. He was already smirking at the victory. Of course, Charlie hadn’t actually—

Charlie quickly did the pattern. He tapped all the right bricks with a speed and certainty, that Harry found stunning. It annoyed him even more because Harry knew he had needed until his second year to have the pattern down. It was not the first time he was jealous of Charlie. The boy had a good memory. Harry snickered a little. Maybe, he was one of those overachievers like Hermione. Hermione was the smartest witch of their age, he couldn’t wait for her to show Charlie up. Or for Ron to win in chess.

Harry didn’t dislike Charlie. More than anything, he felt for his plight. From what Harry had gathered, he didn’t have it easy. But it irked him how Charlie could do everything so perfectly. Drawing, calligraphy, and now he also had a good memory. Spelling might be the only thing he was better at than Charlie, and that was only because it wasn’t his mother tongue.

Now, why didn’t the passage open, though? Charlie looked at him expectantly.

“Try it again, maybe there was a mistake,” Harry suggested. He hadn’t seen a mistake, but maybe he had missed something.

Charlie’s brows furrowed a little, but he followed the suggestion and did the pattern again. Still, nothing happened.

Harry sighed. “I guess my wand doesn’t do it for you.” That had to be it, he reasoned, as he took the wand back, to open the passage again. “Et voilà!”

The way Charlie looked he didn’t speak French. Then again, Harry had just used almost all his French vocabulary. So that was nothing where Harry could outshine him either.

“Ollivanders is over there,” he pointed down the cobblestone road. Witches and wizards hurried along the street from one shop to the next. Some complained about the two boys standing in the middle of the road. Most just circled around them. “That’s where you get—”

He stopped as he turned to Charlie who had an odd look on his face. Oh yeah, right. Diagon Alley could be rather overwhelming at first, Harry knew. He still remembered his first time. The old street with crooked houses. The path leading up to the massive wizarding bank Gringotts. The noise from witches and wizards prattling about the newest broomstick or how the last Quidditch league match went or – recently – about Sirius Black. The cacophony of animal cries from the Magic Menagerie and Eeylops Owl Emporium. A boy stood in the middle of the street giving out Black’s wanted posters, yelling about the man’s most recent misdeeds.

And then of course there were the people. A wild horde of oddly dressed individuals, with funny hats and intricate robes. Some of them had their pets with them, and some of these pets were magical creatures that even Harry couldn’t name yet. And most of them used magic. People apparated in the middle of the street. Every now and then in one of the shops or houses, a flash of flickering green light came through the window as somebody used the floo network. Every second witch or wizard used a levitation spell to let their purchases float in front of them. Somebody used a voice-enhancing Sonorus charm to advertise the products of the Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop.

Harry grabbed Charlie at the shoulder. The boy immediately flinched out of his hold. He had just stared at a witch with a bright pink pointy hat who had used a charm to put up a giant banner over the main entrance of Flourish & Blotts. Now, Charlie stared at Harry in confusion.

“Let’s just…” Harry gestured towards Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. After his earlier reaction, Harry didn’t feel comfortable touching him, but as he slowly walked towards the ice cream salon, he was relieved to see Charlie follow him.

“It’s all a bit much, at first,” Harry said nervously, handing Charlie the menu, just so the boy had something in his hands. Harry feared he might punch the next wizard or witch who came too close if he had his hands free. “I remember how it was for me. You were really never here before?”

Charlie shook his head, his head buried into the menu, though Harry wasn’t sure if he was hiding behind it or reading it.

“Hagrid brought me here when I turned eleven.” Even though Charlie wouldn’t know about Hagrid and hadn’t asked, Harry thought, talking would help. Maybe Charlie would feel more comfortable if he knew he wasn’t the only one who was overwhelmed the first time they saw Diagon Alley. “He’s the groundskeeper at Hogwarts.” He wondered if this was Charlie’s reaction to Diagon Alley, how would he react to Hogwarts? Although he felt bad, that nobody had ever helped Charlie integrate into the magical world, Harry was even more excited at the prospect of Charlie seeing Hogwarts.

“I didn’t even know I was a wizard, back then. When Hagrid came to tell me and give me my letter to Hogwarts, I didn’t believe it. Like, sure, weird things sometimes happened around me.” He laughed as he remembered the zoo incident when he freed the boa constrictor and made Dudley fall into the enclosure. “I remember, when I was in elementary school, sometimes I just ended up on the roof, and I never knew how I got there. Or my hair would grow overnight if I didn’t like the haircut.” He fumbled with his hair.

“Wait…,” Harry suddenly noticed something. “You cut your hair, didn’t you?” Yes, he had wondered why Charlie looked different. He must have changed his hairstyle. That was what he’d done yesterday? Using his twenty pounds to get his hair cut?

Charlie dragged his hand through his hair. He smiled sheepishly. “You noticed?”

“Yeah. Makes you look shorter, weirdly enough.” He laughed.

The other boy shrugged.

“But it looks nice,” Harry said. Weirdly enough, it made Charlie look a lot better. Even his face seemed more handsome now.

“So, what was your first magic?” Harry asked curiously. “For me, it was probably the hair thing.”

Charlie shrugged again. Harry was frustrated at the lack of response.

“Come on, give me something to work with.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Charlie blocked the way he had already blocked Harry’s questions two days before.

Harry sighed. He had an idea. “Is it because your parents freaked out or something?” he guessed. “I get it, I mean the Dursleys hate magic too. Aunt Petunia is my mother’s sister, but she hates magic. And Uncle Vernon and Dudley, my cousin, they are all muggles too. I think they’re afraid of magic.” Harry huffed in frustration. “Like what do they think I’m going to do. Not like I can do anything. It’s illegal after all.” He grumbled and took the menu from Charlie when the other boy put it down.

“You did blow up your aunt,” Charlie smirked.

Harry snorted. Right, he had almost forgotten about that. “She’s not my aunt, really. She’s Vernon’s sister. And she deserved it. Talked bad about my parents.” He still got angry when he thought about it. She had compared his father to a poorly bred dog! He would’ve done worse to her if he could’ve and he was actually disappointed that the ministry had fixed her again.

Carefully he tried to rein back his anger. He knew he didn’t actually have it in him to cause them lasting harm, but sometimes he was just so furious. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Why did he have the great misfortune to live with a family who hated magic?

“My friend Hermione is muggleborn too,” he told Charlie who listened attentively. “Her parents are supportive even though they don’t understand everything, but…” He shook his head. “I’ll take the Gryffindor Cup,” Harry decided at that moment and put the menu down. “Do you know what you want?” He thought about warning Charlie about some of the exotic tastes. But then he remembered that Charlie had made him wait 20 minutes. “Actually, you should choose Barnabas the Fowl’s Cup.”

Charlie looked at him with smart eyes, then he blinked and smiled. “Sure, whatever you say.”

Harry didn’t feel bad for ordering Charlie earwax and freshly pressed Flobberworm juice ice cream. The menu described it as a surprising yellow and pink combination, so no way would Charlie know what he had coming. Harry felt a little gleeful. In a way, he thought, that was the right initiation into the magical world. He’d been surprised with vomit-flavored Bertie Bott’s Beans after all.

“How long have you been in Horley?” Harry asked after a moment. It bugged him that there had been a wizard so close, and he had never known about it.

“Only a few months,” Charlie replied. “I was in London, before.”

“Johannesburg to London to Horley,” Harry chuckled. “Sounds like a story.”

Charlie didn’t answer.

“Yeah, I get it. You don’t want to talk about it.

When Florean Fortescue brought their ice cream cups, Harry immediately paid. Mostly, because he feared, that the moment Charlie took his first bite, he’d spit it out and run away. And then there would be no time to pay anymore.

Harry grinned in anticipation, eyes fixed on Charlie’s yellow and pink combination. Trying to seem less obvious, he turned to his own ice cream and tasted a spoon full. Hmm, raspberry. The bright red ice cream was raspberry, the gold-colored one, he didn’t know. But it was a very tasty combination of fruits that he liked a lot.

Charlie hadn’t eaten anything yet.

“What are you waiting for?” Harry asked impatiently, already thinking the other boy had figured him out.

“Harry,” Charlie said. Harry looked up at him, right into two hazel-colored eyes. Then the other boy’s eyes narrowed into a smile. “Thanks for the invitation. It’s nice to find a friend.”

“Uh…” taken by surprise, Harry blinked at him. Suddenly, he felt bad at abusing Charlie’s trust. This was a stupid idea, Harry thought. How would Harry have taken it if Hagrid had played a prank like that on him? “You shouldn’t—”

But it was too late. Charlie already poked his spoon into the ice cream and tasted the first bite. Harry held his breath, waiting for the outcry of disgust and a glare full of broken trust. Nothing came. Instead, Charlie took another spoon full.

Harry was baffled. “You like it?” he asked confused. Maybe Fortescue had changed the recipe. That had to be it.

“Hm?” Charlie looked up at him. “Yes, some sort of berry,” he guessed. “A bit sweet maybe. What did you want to say earlier?”

Harry shook his head. “Nothing…” He thought it would be best to just let it go. “You sure?” He asked anyway because he was horribly curious.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Charlie pointed with the spoon to his pink-colored ice cream. The one Harry knew for a fact was Flobberworm juice flavored. A horribly bitter and slightly metallic taste that wouldn’t leave the tongue for days. “You want to try?”

“Uhm… no, I just… didn’t know I guessed your tastes right.” Harry stammered.

Confused he dug into his own dessert—

And spit it right back out. What the—

The Flobberworm juice was still in his mouth. Disgusting! Undignified, he spat on the ground.

Charlie… the boy was smirking at him over his cup. Over his…Gryffindor Cup? Now, Harry saw it clearly, the red and gold. He looked at his own cup. The sickly yellow and bright chewing gum pink. How hadn’t he seen it until now? When had Charlie even changed the cups and how had he known?

It’s nice to have a friend.

Yeah right. That sappy tone and his smile, that was probably when he changed it. Bastard! And Harry had even fallen for the act. He couldn’t really fault Charlie for turning the prank on him, he was still angry. And frustrated. Thankfully, at least Charlie seemed to have the good grace not to comment about his victory.

What you didn’t like what you ordered? Some comment like that. That would’ve been just what Harry needed right now.

“Let’s go!” Harry announced jumping from his seat. He would not touch his ice cream, he still fought the lingering aftertaste, and he had no interest in watching Kakashi eat his. “We’ll go to Ollivanders.”

Kakashi didn’t complain, nor did he ask to finish his cup first. He simply wiped his hands at the napkin and followed Harry.

**

Kakashi had been nervous when he first met Harry that morning. He had worried about his disguise sticking. Knowing he’d have to keep this disguise up for a long time, he didn’t fancy holding the transformation jutsu for longer than necessary. It wasn’t difficult. But over many days, it would still drain his chakra somewhat. He had decided to instead go with cutting and dying his hair, colored contact lenses, makeup, and partial transformation over his face.

Thankfully, the transformation he had come up with for Charlie Major, was close to himself in stature. He was a bit taller than Kakashi, his hair was also a little different. And his face a little rounder. He used the partial transformation to hide the scar and fake Charlie’s features, that he couldn’t hide with makeup. Kakashi still looked a little different now. The jaw and nose were now his own. It felt odd having his face out in public like that.

Potter had noticed the changes of course, but he had – as Kakashi had hoped – put them down to the new haircut. It was just fine for Kakashi, that most people looked at eyes and hair for prominent features. With a massive change in hairstyle, more subtle changes around his jaw went mostly ignored. Harry hadn’t known Charlie Major for long, so that helped too.

Harry had noticed the height difference though. Kakashi was fairly impressed by that.

Kakashi, who now looked much more like Kakashi than Charlie Major, followed Harry into a cramped shop. It wasn’t small, by no means. But desks full of long and sleek boxes, shelves overflowing with more of the same boxes made the room look confined and tiny. Kakashi didn’t like the chaos. This whole place, Diagon Alley, was a mess. A loud and noisy, colorful, and annoyingly alive place. Just before they entered Ollivanders, something exploded just around the corner, and Kakashi needed a moment of wide-eyed alertness before he understood that it was a group of children playing a card game. A card game with exploding cards…

“Mr. Potter!” An old man exclaimed when they entered the shop with a double ring of the doorbell. Pale eyes first met Harry’s green, then traveled much less interested to Kakashi. Kakashi had already noted that the boy drew eyes wherever he went. What a pain. The old man’s white hair was neatly curling down to his neck. “Holly, Phoenix Feather, 11 inches, nice and subtle.” Kakashi had no idea what he was talking about. “Truly an extraordinary wand. You still have it?”

Harry pulled his wand from his belt. The man seemed immediately excited.

“Truly! May I?” He already shook pale and surprisingly delicate hands out of his wide and frilly sleeves.

Harry only handed the wand over reluctantly. The man took it, held it against the light, twirled it in his fingers, and then traveled the entire length of it with his index finger. “Among my best work, if I say so myself,” he praised it and handed the wand back. “Of course, its brother—"

“I remember, Mr. Ollivander,” Harry interrupted him with a long-suffering smile.

“Ah. Yes, of course. I feared, if I am honest, that you might have lost it. What else brings you here, Mr. Potter?” As Ollivander spoke, his eyes were already traveling to Kakashi, as if he could guess the reason for their visit even without being told.

“This is Charlie Major,” Harry said. “He…” For a moment Kakashi thought Harry was about to tell the whole story about how ‘Charlie’ was a muggleborn wizard fallen through the cracks who hadn’t ever owned a wand before. But then he simply said: “He needs a wand.”

Ollivander nodded, now focused on Kakashi, waving him over. “Of course.” He frowned a little. “You didn’t buy a wand from me before,” he stated matter-of-factly as if he remembered all of his customers. Kakashi thought he actually might. “May I ask what wand you used before?” He pulled out a measuring tape. “Put your wand hand out like this, please.” He stretched his own hand out in front of him.

Kakashi had no idea what his wand hand was – probably neither in his case – so he simply used his right. He watched Ollivander meticulously measure the length of his arm and then the width of his palm.

“Well?” He asked looking up from his work to lock eyes with Kakashi. “Your former wand?”

Kakashi coughed. “This will be my first.”

Ollivander seemed taken aback. “What wand did you use in Hogwarts so far?” he rephrased his question.

“I never went to Hogwarts.”

Ollivander seemed impatient now. He took down the measuring tape, as he looked at Kakashi more seriously. “What school then? Whatever school you went to, they must have given you a wand—”

“Mr. Ollivander,” Harry interrupted. “Charlie didn’t go to any wizarding school yet.”

Surprised, Ollivander took a step back. “Merlin,” he muttered with eyes as round and pale as the moon. “That is impossible.”

“It’s true,” Harry shook his head. “I know it’s hard to believe.”

Ollivander took his measuring tape again. “It seems impossible to believe,” he agreed and continued measuring the circumference of Kakashi’s wrist. Whispering the number, he let go of the tape, but instead of falling, it started taking measurements all on its own. Kakashi followed it wearily with his eyes, as it measured his full body height, the length of his fingers, the length of his nose, the width of his chest, his feet, and so on.

Having taken and written down almost every measurement possible, Ollivander frowned at his sheet of parchment. “Odd,” he mumbled. “Odd, but…” He went over the assortment of boxes on his table, tapping his index finger against some of them, then he pulled one out, in a light grey color. He wiped the dust away, opened the box, and took the wand from a velvet cushion.

“Hazelnut,” he said, “dragon heartstring, 12 inches, very flexible.” The words didn’t mean anything to Kakashi, but he took the wand. Seriously, he didn’t know what he would need a wand for. If nothing else, he could give it to Sirius, he figured, should they ever meet again, and should the man even be interested to take anything of Kakashi’s, then. Kakashi knew he wouldn’t be able to use a wand. But not having one, would cause more questions than having one that he wasn’t using. At least for now, he knew. With the restriction on underage magic, even Harry’s wand was little more than a stick. He could use it to get to Diagon Alley, that aside, he wasn’t allowed to do any magic with it.

He didn’t know what to do with the wand now that he had it in his hand. Should he just take it, pay and that was it? That would be surprisingly easy. His gaze traveled from Ollivander to Harry, both of them were looking at him expectantly.

“Well, give it a try,” Ollivander suggested though he had a disapproving frown on his face like something wasn’t right. “Swing it.”

Kakashi felt incredibly childish, as he gave the stick a little flick. Nothing happened. Thankfully, Ollivander didn’t drag it out. He took the wand back immediately, put it back in the box, and after short contemplation brought two more boxes.

“Cedar, dragon heartstring, 10 ½ inches, hard.” He handed the wand over. “Try.”

Kakashi swung, nothing happened, Ollivander took the wand away. He seemed unhappy. Then he handed over the other wand he had brought “Beech, unicorn hair, 11 inches, flexible.” This time, the second, Ollivander put it in his hand, he already took it away again.

“Odd, odd,” he mumbled. Shaking his head, he left into the rear part of his shop.

Harry yawned behind Kakashi. He pulled out a stool and sat next to the door. “I see, that might take a while. At least you’re not taking apart the shop.” He chuckled as if in memory. Kakashi looked at him questioningly. “Ah, when I got my wand, I made things explode left and right.”

“Indeed, Mr. Potter” Ollivander said, as he came back to Kakashi, balancing five boxes of wands. “Yours was a much more common reaction.” He shook his head. “Maybe it’s a combination of age and inexperience, with handling a wand,” Ollivander muttered more to himself than to anybody in the room.

He pulled out another wand. This one was of a similar light brown color as the one Kakashi had just held. “Beech again, dragon heartstring, 10 ¾ inches, a bit flexible.” Nothing happened.

“Yew, unicorn hair, 9 ½ inches, hard.”

“Vine, phoenix feather, 10 inches, supple.”

“Ebony, unicorn hair, 11 inches, a bit hard.”

Kakashi didn’t know what they wanted from him. Obviously ‘exploding the shop’ wasn’t it, although Kakashi could give them an explosion just to make them happy. Obviously, the utter lack of any reaction was frustrating for Ollivander. He was already chewing on his bottom lip.

“Cypress, dragon heartstring, 9 ½ inches, very flexible. No, that’s not it either.” He scratched his head. “One might think he has as little magical talent as a muggle,” he muttered under his breath clearly thinking the two boys wouldn’t hear him as he searched his shelves for more wands.

Although obviously, nobody wanted an explosion, Kakashi realized, he should give them some reaction, before Ollivander might figure out that he wasn’t a wizard. So, when Ollivander came back, Kakashi used the short second when Harry looked at the ceiling and Ollivander looked to the new wand in his hand, to form a quick hand sign.

“Cherry, Unicorn hair, 11 inches, hard,” he didn’t even wait for Kakashi to take it anymore but pressed it right in his hand. This time as Kakashi swung it, he released a small lightning jutsu, a single strike hitting a near-bye chair and splitting it in two. Ollivander jumped from shock, obviously having already given up on any form of magical outburst. Harry fell off his stool.

“No, no,” Ollivander said quickly, taking the wand away. “But that’s a first reaction.” Although he was still a little pale from shock, he seemed relieved that at least something had happened. “Here try this. Cedar, dragon heartstring, 12 inches.” Nothing happened.

Still not knowing what exactly Ollivander wanted to see, Kakashi decided to just let a few wands pass without making anything happen. Then he cracked the floorboards with a burst of chakra.

“What exactly are we waiting for?” Kakashi asked after another few minutes because this didn’t lead anywhere.

“You’ll see, you’ll see,” Ollivander answered. He had apparently found new hope, that he might actually succeed to sell a wand to Kakashi, after Kakashi showed at least some magical talent, even if it was in the form of destroying his office furniture.

“Wouldn’t it be—” He was interrupted by the ring of the bell. A witch came inside, looking around the occupants of the room. Her eyes stuck on Harry for a moment, then she quietly sat on a stool next to him.

“Are you waiting too,” she asked Harry, just as Ollivander gave Kakashi the next beech-wand. Nothing happened, and Kakashi gave the wand back, without even waiting for Ollivander to ask for it.

“No, no,” Harry shook his head, “I’m just company.” He nodded at Kakashi who picked up his very first fir-wand. “But it’s taking quite a while.”

“Difficult case?” the witch asked.

Harry nodded.

“I’ll be with you in a moment, Ms. Spinnet,” Ollivander called out to her, taking Kakashi’s fir-wand back from him.

“Spinnet?” Kakashi heard the surprise in Harry’s voice. “You aren’t related to Alicia, are you?”

“A second cousin,” Ms. Spinnet said, then she and Harry collectively jumped when the curtains next to them caught fire.

“Charlie, aim away from us!” Harry yelled out. “Are you mad?”

“Sorry,” Kakashi said quickly, though he had aimed quite purposefully. Ollivander had turned white when Kakashi almost set his customers on fire. “Maybe Ms. Spinnet should go first,” Kakashi suggested.

Ollivander seemed glad at the suggestion. “If it’s not a problem for you,” he made sure to ask, but he was already pushing Kakashi to one of the stools close to Harry. “Ms. Spinnet, what can I do for you?”

“I fear my wand broke irreparably.” She pulled out a cloth handkerchief from her purse and unfolded a wand that split almost clean through in the middle. “An accident with my broom.”

“Ah, a shame. Maple, Unicorn hair, if I remember correctly? 10 inches and quite hard.”

“Yes, Mr. Ollivander.”

Ollivander nodded. “I might still have another one just like it.” He quickly walked down the rows of shelves. “I remember, this unicorn gave me eight… Ah, here. From the same unicorn. Another maple, unicorn hair, 9 ½ inches, a bit flexible.” He handed her the wand but took it back immediately. “No, try this one. Pine, unicorn hair, 12 inches, flexible.”

This time after the witch took the wand, he let her swing it. A flurry of purple sparks came out of the tip. The witch grinned. She flicked the tip of the wand and made the empty wand-box levitate.

“This looks good,” Ollivander said. He asked a few questions about how the wand felt, then 8 Galleons exchanged hands, and Ms. Spinnet left with her new wand. Meanwhile, Kakashi finally knew, what he had to do, to get this little shopping trip over with.

He let four more wands pass through his hands, and cracked another table before he decided long enough time had passed between Ms. Spinnet’s departure and the next wand put in his hand, that the other occupants in the room, wouldn’t necessarily notice the similarities to the witch’s sparks.

“Dogwood,” Ollivander announced tiredly. “Dragon heartstring, 11 inches, supple.”

Dogwood? How fitting, Kakashi thought with a tiny smirk, as he swung the wand before Ollivander could decide to take it out of his hand again. A small fire jutsu and a flurry of orange sparks.

“Finally,” Harry exclaimed, happily clapping his hands together.

Meanwhile, Ollivander looked all but happy. With a frown on his face, he turned to his list of Kakashi’s measurements. “This is highly unlikely,” he muttered, scratching his head. “When were you born, Mr. Major?”

“September 15,” Kakashi gave his real birthday, because why not. When Ollivander looked at him with an impatient frown, he quickly calculated the year. “1978.”

Ollivander nodded, looking back on his list. “Well, I can’t explain it, but sometimes magic goes the most unexpected ways. Congratulations, Mr. Major, we have found your wand. I fear, the reason for the delay might lay with me. I might have miscalculated. I took you for a much more serious person.”

Kakashi had no idea what he was talking about. “A more serious person?” he asked.

“I took you for a beech type,” Ollivander shook his head. “But apparently that was a waste of time and furniture… Dogwood and dragon heartstring would suggest you’re much more playful and mischievous than I thought.” He folded his list, and let it vanish in his long robes. Kakashi didn’t know how to feel about all his physical measurements – and apparently even a character study of him; how accurate that was he didn’t know – just vanishing in the man’s pockets. Then again, he figured nobody here would do him harm based on knowing the length of his nose.

“How much does it cost?” Harry asked. He was clearly getting impatient. No wonder, he’s been sitting around for over an hour.

“9 Galleons.”

Kakashi twirled the wand in his fingers. He didn’t know where to put it. For now, he put it into his pouch, but it was a little too long and half stuck out of it. Maybe, he decided, he could repurpose his leg-pouch that he hadn’t worn, since arriving in his country.

“Thanks,” he said as they left the shop.

“If you want, we can buy you some clothes,” Harry suggested too, pointing at a shop for second-hand cloaks.

“Sure,” Kakashi said, certain that this at least would go much quicker.

As Kakashi already walked up to the shop, Harry had indicated, the other boy’s steps hesitated for a moment. His brows furrowed a little, but then he followed. Kakashi smirked. He knew Harry was surprised at Kakashi’s willingness to spend Harry’s money, but truth be told, Kakashi had no qualms about it whatsoever. Harry had been right, after all. He’d been running around with the same clothes since he first came to this world. In all his time here, he had only bought a new shirt, and his clothes started to stink. Kakashi might not be bothered by that, during missions, but if he could avoid it, he would.

And Harry had offered so graciously.

Really, the only reason Kakashi had reacted petulant and defiant at first, was because it was expected.

Chapter Text

Kakashi pulled up the turtleneck collar of his sweater. It wasn’t quite long enough to reach to his nose, but if he ducked his head a little, it covered his mouth at least. Kakashi hadn’t thought about how odd it felt to run around with his face bare like that. Nowadays, he didn’t even pull down the mask when he slept. Walking around in public without it, made him feel oddly naked. The breeze hitting his cheeks directly felt almost cold despite it being the middle of August. He had spent a few days in the Leaky Cauldron now, and he became increasingly restless.

“Charlie!” Harry’s voice made him look up. Kakashi had followed a family to Diagon Alley. He still couldn’t open the passage with his own wand, which was inconvenient, but nothing he couldn’t get around. It made researching the passage almost impossible, though.

Harry stood at the main entrance of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Kakashi, who had only come for an exploration of the area, and had nothing better to do, walked up to him.

“Charlie, look!” Harry grabbed Kakashi by his sleeve – Kakashi got increasingly used to sudden physical contact and didn’t immediately rip free anymore. Then Harry pulled him into the shop. He pointed at a sleek aerodynamic broom with a shiny dark varnish. It was mounted on a podium. A sign next to the broom called it ‘the Firebolt’.

Kakashi already knew that some wizards owned brooms like that, apparently. He couldn’t figure out what they were supposed to be good for. Harry himself owned one too, though it looked a little different.

“It’s the Firebolt,” Harry said needlessly because Kakashi could read. “The newest model. Fastest broom ever.”

“Yes indeed,” the proprietor walked up to them. “You’re completely correct there, young man. The Irish International Side just ordered seven of them.” He nodded with the smile of a vendor who remembered a good deal. “Next year during the World Cup, most teams will fly one, I reckon.”

Kakashi still couldn’t begin to guess what the brooms were for. When Harry called it the fastest broom, with excitedly sparkling eyes, he surely didn’t mean the ‘fastest sweeping’ broom. Kakashi scrutinized the new model. It had two handles at the lower end of the broomstick. Wait… Those weren’t handles. In his mind, he turned the broom around. Those were for the feet. The brooms were meant to be sat on, he realized. So, they were probably a means of transport. An odd decision to travel by broom, Kakashi thought with a shake of his head.

He wasn’t all that interested in brooms. He couldn’t use a wand. Why would brooms be any different?

The proprietor had by now turned away from the two boys and started talking to two wizards who had just come into the shop.

“You already have a broom,” Kakashi reminded Harry who was looking at the broom again, with big longing eyes. Clearly, this thing was expensive, Kakashi thought. They didn’t even dare to write the prize on the sign.

Harry blinked in surprise. “Oh, yeah. I have a Nimbus 2000,” he spoke as if Kakashi was supposed to know what that was. He took a step away from the podium. “I can’t afford it anyway,” he muttered. “Not without half-emptying my vault.”

Together they left the shop again as if Harry only wanted to show him the broom.

“Harry! Over here, Harry!” A plump and red-faced boy came running up to them. He waved as he ran, and then tripped over the cobblestone. As he fell, he grabbed onto the closest thing he could find, which was Kakashi’s shoulder.

For a moment, Kakashi was grateful that the boy had yelled at them before he came running because Kakashi didn’t know how he would have reacted if he hadn’t. If some unknown kid just came running and grabbed him like that… Kakashi balled his fists in his pockets but quickly loosened up again. When the boy let go of him, with an apologetic and shy smile, Kakashi took a step back to get some distance.

“Sorry, sorry, I… I tripped.” He looked from Kakashi to Harry, then back to Kakashi. “I’m Neville, by the way, I’m...uhm… Harry and I are classmates.”

“Neville is a friend,” Harry said a stubborn little frown on his face. The way the chubby boy’s round face lit up happily was quite endearing, Kakashi thought.

“Yes. And you…” Neville sounded uncertain. “I don’t know you from Hogwarts. Are you Harry’s cousin or…?”

“No, I only met him a week ago,” Harry quickly interrupted with a grimace. “He’s a wizard Neville, he just doesn’t go to Hogwarts. But, uhm…”

“Charlie,” Kakashi introduced himself when Harry failed to give his name. He shook hands with Neville. The boy turned beet red when Kakashi took his hand.

“That reminds me,” Harry muttered under his breath as he rummaged through his pockets. “This came for you this morning.” He handed Kakashi a crumpled envelope. “I couldn’t find you at breakfast,” he added sheepishly.

When Kakashi took the envelope, he found a ministry insignia on the front. His own name was scribbled below the insignia in dark blue ink. “Thank you.” Without bothering to tell his goodbyes, he left the two boys. He felt surprisingly nervous. If the ministry denied his plea, he’d have to infiltrate Hogwarts some other way. He was confident he could probably do it, but Hogwarts – like most things in the magical world – was still a big unknown for him.

Dear Mr. Major, the letter read, concerning your inquiry regarding a late enrollment into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, we would like to invite you to a short interview in our offices. Attached you’ll find a Ministry of Magic visitor’s pass. We would like to welcome you at 11:00 am on August 23, 1993, in Room 304.3G. “

As he read further on, they gave him the address and asked for him to bring all personal papers he had available – which were none. The letter was signed by Miranda Drummer from the Department of Magical Education.

The meeting would be two days from now, which was fine by him. Charlie’s cover story was ready and Kakashi was already getting impatient anyway. He was ready to take the next step.

** 

“I don’t let my comrades die.”

“I don’t let my friends die.”

The voices merged into each other. He couldn’t even say who spoke anymore.

“Did you kill before?”

“Can’t kill me.”

“I know war.”

Sirius woke with a violent start. The words were echoing in his mind like a curse. There was darkness all around him, his paws were wet, his belly dripping with some liquid.

For a moment he thought he was back in the London sewers, but then he remembered. He was already well on his way north. The evening before he had all but passed out along a shallow brook near Huntingdon. As he slept, turning in his nightmares, he must have slipped partly into the water. It was cool on this August night. Still tired from days of walking, and aching in his bones, Sirius shook himself, before he drank from the brook.

It was the middle of the night, and he was alone and away from the city. The first time since wading through the London sewer systems he dared to turn back into a human. The stench was still in his clothes. As a dog, he had bathed many times, but he couldn’t wash his clothes like that. As he turned back, his clothes were stiff from the dried dirt. He peeled them off his starved body and submerged them into the water.

Naked, he knelt in the knee-high water and scrubbed the detested prison garbs. He used rocks to get as much of the dirt out as possible. Several times, he accidentally ripped the cotton, but he didn’t care that much about it. It was already little more than rags anyway. Part of him wanted to rip them into tiny pieces, burn them and throw the ashes in the water… but he had nothing else to wear, so instead, he hastily cleaned them as well as he could. He was terrified that somebody would find him, despite it being the middle of the night, and despite the closest settlement being almost a mile away.

After fifteen minutes, he pulled the garbs out of the water. Sirius wrung them out as much as he could, then he hung them over a bush to let them dry a bit. Just as a cool breeze gripped his bare body, he stepped back into the brook. Sirius knelt to wash his legs, his arms, his torso, and face. He scrubbed so hard, that the goosebumps that had formed with the breeze were soon replaced by burning red scratch marks.

Sirius was secretly grateful for the darkness. That way he didn’t have to see the ruins of his own body. He could imagine it anyway. That was horrific enough. Irritated, he scratched at a few old rashes and flee-bites.

He put his head underwater. Washing his hair was impossible. He’d have to cut it off as soon as he found a knife or something like that. It was a tangled, matted mess of black curls. If only he had kept one of Kakashi’s knives, he thought.

I know war.

He started, freeing his head from the water. He had heard the voice as clear as day. Searching he looked this way and that, hair dripping from his mane, but he saw nothing but darkness and the silhouettes of stones, trees, and bushes in the pale light of the crescent moon.

I know war.

“What did you mean?” Sirius asked into the night.

I crushed his windpipe, I’m sure of it.

No… no, no. Sirius refused to believe it. Even as he saw it with his own eyes, it couldn’t be true. It was Polyjuice, or his mind playing a trick on him. Kakashi, kind and caring Kakashi, who had laughed with him and fed him…was not the same man who had come into the ministry to kill and to…

We’re getting out of here.

I don’t let my comrades (Friends! It was friends!) die.

Keep him safe.

He had come to save him. Had he broken into the ministry, just to save him? How did he even do that? How was that possible?

Sirius was unable to consolidate the kind teenager he had met in Norfolk, the boy he had traveled with, who had cooked for him and fed him, with the cold-blooded murderer he had met in the ministry holding cells. Those were two different people. They couldn’t be one person. Kakashi, he was certain, hadn’t even known about magic. How would he suddenly have good enough control over it, to not just break into the ministry, and also take out several highly trained aurors? Did he even have a wand?

Did he have a wand? Sirius’ spiraling thoughts ground to a sudden halt. He had never seen Kakashi with a wand, not during their journey, nor in the holding cells.

All of this made no sense to him. Kakashi, he was certain, didn’t have a wand. He had weird knives and wire and needles, Sirius had seen all of that, but he had never seen a wand. Surely, he would have at least glimpsed it during these last two weeks.

The fire…

He remembered, when he first met Kakashi, how he thought he started fires out of nothing, but later on, after Kakashi knew who he was, he had used tools to create a fire. After a few days, Sirius had simply chalked it up to faulty memory, but what if it wasn’t… Wandless magic?

I know war. Did you kill before?

Sirius shook his head forcefully, water spraying in all directions. He fisted his fingers into his hair, pulled on it until it hurt until the pain brought a stop to his racing thoughts. Stumbling out of the water, he half fell on the undergrowth surrounding the brook. He slung thin arms around gnarly knees.

I know war. I crushed his windpipe, I’m sure.

It made no sense. It made no sense. It made no sense.

But however often he told himself, however often he thought these words, even mumbled them with his fast breath… It was not a charm, that could somehow make his wish come true.

It made no sense… maybe not. But it was reality.

Kakashi had saved him from the ministry holding cell. Kakashi and an accomplice, that Sirius didn’t know. Who else would it have been? Who else would even consider helping him? It wasn’t like there were all that many people caring about him and his fate.

A fate worse than death.

Kakashi had saved him from that. Why the boy would go so far for a convicted mass murderer he had only just meat, Sirius didn’t know. How? Sirius couldn’t answer that either. But he had. That was fact. Kakashi had saved him from the dementor’s kiss, and Sirius should be thankful.

I crushed his windpipe, I’m sure.

But how could Sirius be thankful, if Kakashi killed his former comrades for him? People Sirius had fought side by side with, in the past? How was Sirius even worth that?

I know war. I don’t let my comrades (Friends!) die. Did you kill before?

I will help find rat. The mission isn’t complete. Did you kill before? Killing rat.

Sirius shivered where he sat. His memories were merging. Forming an undefinable mess. The image of the boy – a curved eye showing the smile behind the mask, the smell of rosemary and thyme, comforting scratches behind his ears. The image of the killer – the flat affect, I crushed his windpipe, I’m sure.

“He’s just a kid,” Sirius whispered to himself. “He’s fourteen.”

I know war.

Decidedly Sirius shook his head. He had to stop. He was getting nowhere. His thoughts were running in circles and he could not find the solution to the puzzle.

Can’t you find it? Or do you not want to find it?

He quickly pulled on his still wet clothes, hair still dripping onto his shoulders. Then he turned into Shaggy—Padfoot. He shook himself, the dog’s fur now as wet as his body had been. As a dog, he didn’t have to concern himself with these thoughts.

A dog’s life was simpler. As a dog his first concern was food. Without Kakashi, he had to find that himself. These last days, he had mostly relied on searching through trash. He didn’t particularly mind that. Twelve years in Azkaban taught him not to be picky. And really, his only goal was getting to Hogwarts alive. He didn’t care much what shape he would be in then as long as he was still able to kill Peter.

Killing rat. Did you kill before?

Merlin, he was still fighting these memories as Padfoot? What was wrong with him? He shook himself one final time, then he made his way north. In the next village, he would find something to eat. Maybe, some time later he could learn how to hunt. Maybe remembering what Kakashi had done, would help him.

He remembered the boy stalking on soundless, light feet. He remembered a hand shooting into the water with minimal splash. Kakashi had been a hunter.

Kakashi was a killer.

A killer all along.

But still, as the dog started moving, he could smell it. Rosemary and thyme.

**

The ministry was a busy place by day. It was also much easier getting into it with an invitation, Kakashi realized, as he stepped out of the visitor’s entrance into the Atrium. The Atrium was full of life. People in these odd wizarding robes that Kakashi was only slowly getting used to were appearing in puffs of green flames from the many fireplaces lining the walls. There was a constant coming and going, the buzz of a hundred conversations, and every now and then somebody would be in a hurry and shove past their colleagues to the chagrin of everybody involved.

Kakashi stopped next to the huge fountain that featured golden statues of a wizard, a witch, a half-horse/half-man being, a goblin – he had already seen them in Gringotts – as well as another small humanoid creature with big flappy ears he didn’t know. The ceiling of the Atrium was of a beautiful blue with shiny golden ornaments moving over it. The floor was polished so well, that Kakashi could see himself reflected in it. The last time he’d been here he hadn’t cared much for the opulent beauty of the place, now it struck him that this wasn’t just a place for work and business, it was a place of power and this entrance hall was supposed to inspire awe into everybody who first entered it.

Kakashi didn’t feel much for it. Maybe, if they didn’t try to throw his friend into a prison that was so horrible, most people would not even talk about it, maybe then he’d be more inclined to acknowledge the architecture. Or maybe it was the fact that they should have invested in better protection rather than this overt splendor. What worth was a big Atrium when he had just proven how easily he could sneak in and out of this place?

Kakashi followed a group of witches and wizards to a registration desk. A short man with a bowler hat and a small mustache sat there, working his way slowly through the onslaught of visitors. Kakashi patiently waited in line.

When it was Kakashi’s turn the man barely looked up at him, as he let a golden antenna glide over his body. “Wand, please.”

Kakashi handed over a wand.

“What is your business here,” he asked looking up at the name tag, Kakashi had clipped to his sweater, “Mr. Major?”

Instead of answering, Kakashi handed over the invitation he had received via owl. “I see, I see.” The bowler hat man carried a name tag that was half-hidden under the folds of his robe. His name was Munch. “Thank you.”

He handed both the invitation and the wand back to Kakashi. “First Floor,” he said before he turned to the next in line.

As Kakashi walked through the ministry, he familiarized himself with his surroundings. He had already spent a night here, but back then he’d been focused on not getting caught. Now, he studied the plan that told him exactly what department was on which floor. He copied it with his Sharingan just in case he needed to come back here again, sometime later.

He arrived in room 304.3G exactly five minutes past eleven. Not willing to push it any further, and already having familiarized himself with the architecture of the building, he knocked at the office door of Miranda Drummer.

Despite believing that Miranda was a woman’s name, upon entry, he was greeted by a man’s voice.

“One might think, if you really wanted to come to Hogwarts, punctuality would be in order,” the man snarled. He had a voice as if he was pressing it through his nose. Very soft, very tight and contained. It was a thin man with pale and sallow skin, greasy black hair, and a hooked nose. His teeth looked almost as bad as Sirius’ as he spoke. Kakashi could smell his bad breath up to the door though it wasn’t overwhelming. He also smelled a little of the dust from underground cellars or dungeons and of other fumes that Kakashi couldn’t quite place. “No excuse?” the man asked with a raised eyebrow, the s-sound whistling through his teeth. Black eyes were boring into Kakashi.

“Are you Miranda Drummer?” Kakashi asked, still a little surprised, because he had never heard the name ‘Miranda’ before receiving the letter, but he had learned that names ending on the letter A were usually female.

The man sputtered. “How dare you…! Don’t be impertinent!” the man threatened. He didn’t take Kakashi’s question well. In his anger, his already sallow face paled even more.

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi pulled out his invitation. “I was supposed to meet a Miranda Drummer here.”

“Yes, correct.” At that moment an adjoining door opened, and a witch in a mint-colored dress robe stepped into the room. “I’m sorry for the confusion, Mr. Major.” She looked at him with a kindly round face. “May I call you Charlie?” Kakashi nodded. “Well, Charlie, it’s a pleasure to introduce to you, Professor Severus Snape.” She waved towards the man.

Meanwhile, Snape still stood fuming over Kakashi’s prior question. Now, he aggressively fixed the sleeves of his shirt and robes and then crossed his arms. He moved slowly and looked down on Kakashi in a way that spoke of haughty disdain. Kakashi did not like this man.

“I see,” Kakashi turned away from the professor and back to the witch. “What did you want to talk about?”

Again, Snape seemed to take some affront to his actions, though this time Kakashi could not fathom what the problem was. Did he expect Kakashi to talk to him first and foremost rather than the witch who had actually invited him to the meeting?

“Before we will decide over your enrollment, and,” she looked at Snape for a moment, “the exact procedure, I would like you to give us a bit of information about yourself – to clear up some questions.”

Kakashi agreed with a shrug and then walked past the professor to sit opposite Ms. Dummer’s desk. With a seething huff, Snape sat down as well, though he pushed his chair as far away from Kakashi as he could, without making it too obvious.

“Can you tell me about your parents?”

And so Kakashi told the sad tale of Charlie Major. A boy born on September 15, 1978, as the first-born son to Madelaine and Anthony Major in Johannesburg, South Africa. He spoke of a younger brother called Michael, of his first magical incident setting the curtains in his house on fire, and how his brother had been hurt in the accident. He had the tale all set up and ready.

Speaking with Harry about his aunt and uncle and about his friends and their families, reading up on South Africa, the United Kingdom, and the world in the library, listening to witches and wizards in the Leaky Cauldron, Kakashi had created a tale that was so full of holes, that it would never fly in the shinobi world. If he were to attempt and infiltrate an enemy shinobi village with such a lie, he’d undoubtedly be found out within a week. But this world was different. In this world, fourteen-year-olds were not expected to invent their whole life stories, they were not deemed a threat. In this world, wizards thought muggles to be primitive, so when he told his story about how his disapproving muggle family had wanted to ship him off to a boarding school far away on the countryside, and how he had slipped away on the airport and somehow made it on a plane to London, they thought his story seemed perfectly reasonable. They barely even questioned whether the South African police was looking for him and when he told them, his family wouldn’t want him back anyway, they seemed satisfied with grim acceptance.

He had needed a story that would explain why he didn’t appear in any registries they had access to. A South African kid who had run from his hateful parents and somehow smuggled himself to London by the age of 11 was surely an odd tale. To them, however, it seemed more plausible than the idea of a magical child slipping through the cracks of their own system.

Kakashi had relied on that. As long as they thought that the mistake laid elsewhere and not within their own ministry, they would be perfectly willing to accept the story with minimal research.

Well, Ms. Drummer would at least. Snape seemed more skeptical. In fact, Kakashi realized a little worried, that this professor might be troublesome.

“I lived in London until four months ago, and then I went to Horley because I hoped I could get a job there,” Kakashi ended his wild tale, “in a bakery.”

“It didn’t work out?” Drummer asked though she seemed completely disinterested in the bakery-thing. Which was good, as it was the biggest hole in his story. “Thank you for telling us, Charlie. That must have been hard. In the name of the ministry and Hogwarts, I apologize that we didn’t find you sooner. But I think, now that we have this out of the way, we can talk about how to proceed.” She looked at Snape expectantly.

The man snorted. “You can’t believe this hogwash of a story, Ms. Drummer?” he snarled in a tone of utter contempt. “Clearly, he is lying. If he weren’t, he would be asking us to get back to South Africa, wouldn’t he?”

“I think Charlie has explained why he doesn’t wish for that. Of course, we will attempt to find his parents in Johannesburg, yet in the meantime, we cannot let a young boy stay without an education.” As Snape wanted to retort something, she looked at him strictly. “This is not just in the boy’s interest, but also to protect the Statute of Secrecy. It is paramount that Charlie learns to control his magic.”

Snape seemed to accept that argument at least. “You misunderstand me, Ms. Drummer,” he said in a quietly seething drawl. “I don’t wish to deny this boy his education. I simply don’t believe he is telling the truth. I may not know much about Afrikaans, but I do know a Dutch accent, and this couldn’t be further from that.”

“I have a speech impediment,” Kakashi explained casually. “I have problems with the L-sound.”

Snape glared at him.

“Professor Snape,” Drummer started warningly, “we cannot deny him his education based on your suspicion about an accent. Do you have any proof that this boy might not be who he says he is?”

Snape gnawed at his lip. His black eyes were staring at Kakashi, like dark tunnels. He was smart, Kakashi thought. This one he would have to be careful of if he didn’t want to be figured out.

“The attack on the ministry,” Snape started in a low voice. “A stranger broke in to help Black escape. Auror Gibson almost died in the attempt.” Kakashi was shortly distracted by the relieving knowledge that Sirius’ friend had lived. According to the last information in the Daily Prophet he had been in intensive care. “A few days before that, there was a sighting of an unknown young wizard, able to perform magic without being detected by the trace through some dark witchery.”

“I remember well enough,” Drummer said sounding exasperated. “You may have noticed that I work here.”

“Of course,” Snape nodded with a tight expression on his face. “I believe this boy may be him.” Smart, Kakashi thought, though Snape clearly had no proof beyond his own suspicion. Drummer seemed to think the idea was absurd. “If you allow, I can perform a spell that will show any illusions on the boy’s exterior. I also have brought a potion with me to counteract the effects of a Polyjuice.”

The fact that Snape had brought the potion meant he had his suspicions fixed long before meeting Kakashi. At least, now Kakashi knew it wasn’t his story that had made him question Kakashi’s identity.

“This seems a little over the top,” Drummer frowned.

“Is it?” Snape retorted snidely. “If this is indeed a dark wizard and a companion of Sirius Black, we would risk Harry Potter’s safety by sending Charlie to Hogwarts.” He spoke the name in a tone as if he didn’t believe for a second that it was a real name.

Drummer seemed to understand the argument. Regretfully, she agreed. “Charlie, would you mind us checking your identity? This won’t hurt.” As she spoke, she looked questioningly to Snape, as if not sure herself about the ‘hurting’ part.

“It won’t” Snape nodded. “Just a few spells to reveal the truth.”

Kakashi was a little nervous now. He didn’t know how well Transformation or his dyed hair would hold up to this magic. He had a plan in his mind, what to do if it broke any of his disguises, but he didn’t really fancy having to explain himself.

He still agreed to the procedure.

First, Snape gave him a disgustingly smelling and even worse tasting potion, but it had no effect whatsoever on Kakashi. Snape frowned unhappily at the lack of reaction. Then he pointed the wand at Kakashi.

Unlike with the minister, this time Kakashi tried very hard, not to pull the wand out of the man’s hand, even if it would be easy. He still raised a hand in front of his eyes as if to shield them from an attack.

“Revelio veritas,” Snape muttered in the unknown language wizards often used for spells.

Kakashi blinked as a flimsy white light hit him. He didn’t feel anything. But as he quickly checked himself over, he realized that although the hair dye and the contacts and the makeup were still there, his Transformation was gone. Still, with his hand in front of his face, he could quickly reapply the partial Transformation without anybody noticing.

Another worrying thing, he learned. Wizards could break through his illusions. However, it also meant there was a sort of interaction between his use of jutsu and their magic. Which meant he might have to explore how exactly he could manipulate magic with his own techniques. If their magic could affect his jutsu, it was possible that it would work the other way around as well.

“I think that is enough,” Drummer said a little red in the face.

Snape looked as if he had bitten into something sour. “I apologize,” he gritted out through clenched teeth, looking like he’d rather vomit out his breakfast than admit a mistake.

“No problem,” Kakashi reassured them as he looked back up at the two, Transformation already reapplied. “I’ve read about Black.”

But they didn’t seem eager to reveal any information about Sirius. Although, maybe they had forgotten, that they had already given him a vital piece of information. They thought Harry was Sirius’ target. Which was good, because obviously they were wrong, and any wrong information the ministry had would be good for Sirius. On the other hand, though, Harry would go to Hogwarts, where Sirius was going too, to catch the rat. So, lucky fools that they were here in the ministry, they protected the wrong target, but they’d conveniently still be in the right place to catch Sirius by accident.

Now Kakashi knew for a fact, that he had to go to Hogwarts. That was where he was needed. Whether Sirius wanted his protection or not. He wouldn’t let them throw a friend back into this hellish prison everybody spoke about.

“Yes,” Snape said in a sour tone. He sat back in his chair looking embarrassed.

Drummer coughed slightly. “Prof. Snape is here to ask you a few questions regarding your current know-how. So, we can create a school curriculum for you, that would be best suited. At your age, you would normally now start your fourth year in Hogwarts, however, there are concerns that the curriculum might be overwhelming for you. That would also mean that two years from now, you’d have to write your first big exams. Your OWLs.”

Kakashi nodded, although he had no interest staying for two years to write any sort of exams. As he couldn’t even use magic, he doubted the difficulty of the classes would at all matter to him. Thankfully, wizards seemed to largely accept his jutsu as magic – if maybe a for them slightly odd and unknown form of magic. He hoped he could fake most of his tasks.

“Professor, would you like to take over?”

Kakashi could hear the other man breathe. He still seemed angry from either Kakashi calling him Miranda or his failed attempt to expose Kakashi as a dark wizard. Eventually, he gave a short huff.

“Certainly,” he hissed the word from between tight lips. “Mr. Major, I have here a written questionnaire regarding your theoretical knowledge of magic. This test was painstakingly created by the teachers of the main subjects,” he spoke as if he thought his colleagues had gone through too much of an effort for just one kid. “After that I will ask you to perform certain spells and magic, to ascertain your current level.”

He pushed a long scroll of parchment in front of Kakashi. Drummer gave him ink and a quill.

“You have 60 minutes,” Snape said without further preparation, looking at an hourglass that he pulled from his pocket.

It wouldn’t have mattered if he had only 10 minutes, Kakashi quickly realized as he read the myriad of questions. The parchment was neatly separated into six sections, named ‘General Wizarding Knowledge’, ‘Herbology’, ‘History of Magic’, ‘Potions’, ‘Astrology’, and ‘Theory of Magic’.

He found four questions in the category ‘General Wizarding Knowledge’ that he could answer remembering what Sirius had told him about the magical world. There were two questions in History of Magic that seemed familiar to him, and one question each in the Potions and Herbology section that he could answer based on his general (non-magical) knowledge on poisons. Astrology was the most surprising part of the test to him.

Kakashi knew to read the stars. Lost in enemy territory without equipment, it was often the only means of orientation. Traveling through England, the sky had always looked like that of his homeworld. It looked different, of course, but the differences could be chalked up to the geographical distance and were not necessarily proof that he had traveled to a different world altogether. The year had the same number of days, the days were the same 24 hours long, and there was only one moon. Even the lunar calendar was the same.

Now, he found out that it wasn’t only similar… their night’s sky seemed identical. It didn’t make answering the questions easier for Kakashi, as he didn’t know the English names for all these celestial bodies, but at least he could answer certain questions regarding the earth and lunar orbit. He also felt quite proud at being able to draw up an accurate lunar calendar. The rest of the questions about astrology were weird things about reading zodiac signs and the magical effect of different positions of the moon. It all sounded like nonsense to Kakashi.

Only fifteen minutes after he was handed the test, he said that he was finished. He let go of the end of the scroll. The stiff parchment rolled itself up all on its own. Like a spring that was drawn apart and as he let go of the end, it snapped back together. It had done that all the time as he went over the question. Every time, he lifted his elbow off the end, the parchment had rolled up a little. It was quite annoying. Kakashi found his own paper scrolls much more convenient and wondered why wizards didn’t just use paper.

“Already?” Snape asked through his nose.

“I don’t know most of this,” Kakashi replied aware of the haughty smirk on the teacher’s face.

“I can see that. Well, maybe your wand work will be better.”

He spoke in a mocking tone. As he told his story, Kakashi had also mentioned that he only bought his wand a few days ago, so clearly Snape had all reason to assume that Kakashi would humiliate himself.

“Your wand, boy,” Snape waved impatiently until Kakashi had his wand out and raised. “First, a Wingardium Leviosa?” The words sounded were meaningless to Kakashi. Snape waited expectantly, but Kakashi had no idea what he was supposed to do.

“Maybe you should offer an example,” Drummer said with a kind smile towards Kakashi.

Snape gritted his teeth. “The boy is hopeless if he doesn’t even know that much. One would think, he could have at least read a beginners’ coursebook on charms in preparation for this meeting.” But then he quickly jerked his wand out of his robes and made a quick swish-and-flick movement. “Wingardium Leviosa.” A small post-it note on Drummer’s deck flew up into the air where it hung for a moment before Snape canceled the spell again. He turned back to Kakashi with a raised eyebrow.

As Kakashi watched the post-it-note slowly flap back down, he prepared his strategy. He had seen Suna shinobi use their puppetry jutsu often enough, that he had at least understood the concept behind it. He couldn’t control a complex puppet, but he felt confident that he could let a piece of paper fly using an invisible chakra string.

“Wingardium Leviosa.” The paper shot into the air, remained there for a moment before Kakashi let it fall again.

Snape furrowed his brows looking at him. “It’s WinGARdium,” he corrected, clearly taking issue with Kakashi’s pronunciation. It seemed redundant to Kakashi as he had clearly fulfilled the task. Was the correct pronunciation important?

“Now an Incendio.” He waved his wand in a lazy demonstration creating a small puff of flames.

That was easy enough for Kakashi to mimic. He was asked to perform a few other tasks, though soon, Kakashi didn’t follow anymore. With two pairs of eyes fixed on him, he knew they would notice if the jutsu was too different from the demanded spell. He could, for example, get the same result he needed for a knockback curse with a small wind or earth jutsu, but surely, they wouldn’t miss a sudden burst of wind. So, he felt much safer just failing most of the tasks.

Snape was pinching his nose when Kakashi failed an Expelliarmus spell at last. “First grade,” Snape snapped at him and he looked as if he wanted to take Kakashi’s wand, rip it in half and not let him go to the school at all. “The boy has so little talent, even the first graders would show him off.”

“Professor!” Drummer exclaimed scandalized. “I was guaranteed by Professor Dumbledore himself, that Charlie will enjoy the best education and care Hogwarts can provide. But he’s also a fourteen-year-old boy. Surely, he will do better with his peers.”

Snape shook his head unhappily. His lips pressed together tightly as if constipated. Then he huffed, his face loosening up in resignation. “The boy will not survive the fourth year. I can guarantee you that. But – though I strongly advised against this – Professor Dumbledore asked for Mr. Major to be put in third grade if necessary.”

“A splendid idea,” Drummer clapped. “That way, although he may have to attend supplementary classes to catch up on the old subject matters, at least for the elective courses he can start with his classmates.” She looked at Charlie. “How does that sound, Charlie? You would only be a year older than your classmates. If it doesn’t work out, I fear we’ll have to push you back into grade two after all, but we could at least give it a try.”

Kakashi nodded. He remembered that Harry would start his third year too. It was actually perfect, though he bristled a little at the idea that he might not be able to keep up with some thirteen-year-old children. He had after all finished the academy at age 5, seven years younger than the average graduate.

“Splendid,” Drummer said again. “Let’s get to the sorting. Professor Dumbledore told me you would bring the hat? He and I agreed that in this particular case, we should spare the boy the entrance ceremony.” She looked at Kakashi pityingly as if said entrance ceremony was a great event that nobody should have to miss. “Normally,” she started to explain unprompted, “the sorting is something every new student looks forward to. But I doubt you want to join a group of eleven-year-olds on their march to Hogwarts and be sorted in front of the whole school with children much younger than yourself.”

Kakashi grimaced. It wasn’t so much the part where he had to be with a group of young children, but more so the prospect of having to do something in front of the entire school, that spooked him off. Kakashi didn’t like attention on himself. Especially not in this case. Who knew what this ‘sorting’ entailed? He might out himself as ‘non-magical’ after all, and if so, he’d rather not do it in front of everybody.

“I have brought the hat.” Snape agreed. He grabbed a bag from next to the desk and pulled out a leathery something. As he unfurled it, it turned out to be… well, an old pointy hat.

Chapter Text

“Interesting, interesting.”

There was a voice in Kakashi’s head. Deep and elderly and kind of rough. The hat was talking to him. Looking at Snape and Drummer, however, Kakashi was convinced he was the only one who could hear the hat.

“It’s not my obligation to decide who gets to go to Hogwarts and who doesn’t, boy, but…” the voice drifted off, never finishing the sentence. “Yes, I’ve never sat on a muggle’s head.”

Kakashi got nervous then. Clearly, the hat could see into his mind, read him somehow. Was it a technique like the one Inoichi Yamanaka used for his mind-reading? That was dangerous. Even more so, the hat could out him. But there was little Kakashi could do against that. Surely, Snape and Drummer wouldn’t react kindly to Kakashi ripping the hat to shreds and he didn’t even know if that would effectively kill it.

The hat laughed in his mind. “A disturbing train of thoughts, boy. You want to kill me, do you?” The laughter echoed around his head. “I would not take such threats seriously from any other kid, but you… I wouldn’t be your first, would I? But don’t get all excited, boy, you cannot kill me. As I am not technically alive.”

“What are you then?” Kakashi whispered quietly, hoping Snape and Drummer wouldn’t hear. He doubted even the hat would be able to hear him, but apparently, the hat could just read his thoughts. “How can you speak?”

“I’m but an old hat. And as I said, boy, I’m not here to decide whether you should go to Hogwarts. Your thoughts are safe with me. Even when Tom Riddle carried me on his head, I did not share his innermost fears and desires with anybody.” Kakashi didn’t know what he was talking about or who this ‘Tom Riddle’ was. “Your thoughts are safe with me,” the hat repeated.

Then what do you want? Kakashi asked. This time he didn’t whisper it, but only thought his question.

“I shall find a place for you. A home, so to say, a house you can fit in. A place to find acceptance and friends.” It sounded too good to be true to Kakashi. Never mind that he didn’t think he would find many kindred spirits in a school of all places. “Though I am not certain, you will stay long enough to enjoy it, will you, boy?”

Just get on with it, whatever you need to do. Kakashi was still nervous, that this hat might ruin his chances to go to Hogwarts as a student.

“Ah…impatient. I see bravery there. Loyalty too, and a certain cunning. Interesting, interesting. Very smart, too.” There was a short pause. “You are a hard worker, are you not, although you like to hide it with your slouch. You are also resourceful, oh yes…quite resourceful. And oh, so intelligent…You might be one of the most intelligent children I ever met – then again, you’re also one of the oldest.” Kakashi heard the hat hum in his mind. “I can see a darkness in you, Kakashi Hatake.” It was the first time he heard his name in over a week that he was now separated from Sirius. It almost made him rip the hat off. “And sorrow… But I think you will do well in…Hufflepuff.”

Kakashi only realized the head had cried the last word out loud when Snape pulled the leathery thing off his head. The teacher sneered. “I could have guessed. Of course, you’d be a Hufflepuff,” he said in a mocking tone as if there was something wrong with Hufflepuffs. Whatever that was.

“One last thing,” Drummer said finally. Kakashi was quite glad that apparently, their meeting would be over soon. He felt he had come too close to being outed already. “As a third-year you will be required to take a minimum of two elective subjects. As you will have a lot of things to catch up on already, I would suggest choosing only two.” She gave Kakashi a small list of elective subjects.

Kakashi quickly chose the only two that made sense to him – given that he had never heard words like ‘divination’ or ‘arithmancy’. “Muggle Studies and Care of Magical Creatures,” he picked.

“Muggle Studies sounds like a smart choice, considering…” Drummer took the paper back. “Thank you, Mr. Major, that would be all. As I’m informed you remain at the Leaky Cauldron for the rest of the holidays?” She continued after he nodded: “That is quite perfect. We will send you your list of schoolbooks and -supplies by tomorrow. That should leave you ample time to buy all the necessities.”

**

Ron and Hermione were nowhere to be found. Harry sat every morning in the Leaky Cauldron and then went to Diagon Alley looking for his friends. But they never came. He met several of his other classmates. After he met Neville, he also met Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. The three boys swooned over the Firebolt for a while, until the other two had to leave to get their books. Harry already had all his school supplies. Still, however long he searched, he couldn’t find his friends.

He was disappointed. It was always fun to go shopping in Diagon Alley together. Now, instead, all he had was Charlie, and most of the time Charlie was doing something else. For somebody who lived just across the corridor, he saw Charlie surprisingly little. Harry didn’t even know if Charlie slept into the afternoon, or if he was just such an early bird, but he never met him in the morning. Nor even in the evening. Sometimes he spent hours with his door slightly ajar in his room just waiting for the other boy, so he could finally ask him how his meeting in the ministry had gone. That was now days ago.

Part of Harry felt it meant something went wrong and Charlie wouldn’t go to Hogwarts after all. He was convinced, if Charlie was accepted, he’d have already asked Harry for money for the schoolbooks.

Harry quietly ate his scrambled eggs for breakfast. After Charlie told him that Tom spitted in the dishrag, he had decided not to eat in the Leaky Cauldron anymore. But then he had done it regardless because it was just so much more convenient.

He grabbed for the saltshaker but quickly realized that it wasn’t there. There was pepper, sugar, but no salt. Frustrated he looked around for the closest table when…

“Yo!” Charlie leaned over the booth, waving with a stupid grin on his face.

Harry almost fell from his bench. “Jesus,” he cursed. He hadn’t even seen Charlie coming. “Where did you come from?”

Charlie pointed to the stairs, without turning away from Harry. “Do you know how the passage to Diagon Alley works?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “I told you how to do it. Did you forget?”

Charlie laughed sheepishly. “No, no, I don’t mean how to open it. How does the magic work?”

Harry stared at him, blinking. He had never thought about that. “I have no idea.” Harry shrugged. “It just works.” Charlie seemed unhappy with the reply. “Why?”

“Curiosity. I’ve been trying to figure it out all week.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. Clearly, that couldn’t be true. Harry had gone to Diagon Alley every day. He had passed the passage twice a day if not more often. Not once had he seen the other boy there. Or had he just searched the information in a book?

“I didn’t see you there,” Harry said but didn’t receive a response. “But if it’s so important to you, I can ask my friend when we’re in Hogwarts.” If anybody knew about such useless tidbits of information, it would be Hermione. “Speaking of which, how did it go?”

Charlie looked at him with a blank expression.

“Your appointment with Drummer?”

Charlie came around the bench and then slid into the booth opposite Harry. As he did that, he put the saltshaker on the table.

“You took it!” Harry exclaimed in frustration and quickly grabbed it.

“I just saw you search one,” Charlie retorted. The explanation wasn’t bad, Harry decided.

“So, how did it go?”

Kakashi shrugged. “Went well, I supposed. I’m starting the third year with you.”

Harry felt elated immediately. That was great! He always liked getting new friends, and Charlie was the only person he knew, who didn’t stare at the scar all the time when he talked to him. Even Ron, he remembered, only had eyes for the scar that first time they met. Charlie didn’t even seem to see it. “That’s awesome. I thought you’d go into the fourth year, 'cause you’re a year older.”

Charlie nodded. He leaned back in his seat. “I am, but since I never held a wand before…”

Harry considered that. “Yes, I see. It makes sense. So, how did they figure that out? Did you have to take a test?”

Charlie nodded again.

Frustrated, Harry scowled at the other boy. “Come on, don’t make me beg for the details.”

“Mah…fine. There was a Hogwarts teacher who asked me all sorts of questions. He gave me a written test with multiple-choice questions, and then he wanted me to perform some spells. After that they—”

“Who was the teacher?” Harry interrupted curiously. It was probably McGonagall, he thought, she was vice-principal after all. But Charlie had said ‘he’… Ugh, Harry just hoped it wasn’t Snape.

“His name was Snape. I don’t think he liked me much.”

Harry cringed. Yeah, he could see that. Snape didn’t like anybody unless they were part of house Slytherin. Of course, he liked Harry least of all. Harry didn’t even know why. Dumbledore had dropped hints, that it had to do with his father, that Snape and his dad didn’t like each other in Hogwarts. To Harry that seemed absurd. Sure, maybe Snape hadn’t liked his dad, but that had nothing to do with Harry after all. In his first year, even his first day in school, when Harry hadn’t done anything yet to anger Snape, the man had already enjoyed making him suffer.

Harry felt suddenly angry. He was used to Snape’s bullying by now but did he really have to be the same nasty bat with Charlie. It would be humiliating enough for Charlie, that he had to beg the ministry to give him a chance to go to Hogwarts. After all, it was their fault, or Hogwarts’ fault that they had missed him in the first place, wasn’t it? And in came Snape and made it even more difficult.

“I’m sorry for that,” Harry said honestly. He really pitied Charlie, that of all the teachers he had to meet Snape first.

“It’s alright,” Charlie shrugged. “I don’t think he took it well when I called him Miranda.” There was a sly grin on his face.

Harry sputtered. “You called him Miranda? Why?” That was a story he had to know!

Charlie told the entire story. From how he had entered the office and asked Snape if his name was ‘Miranda Drummer’, to how they had made the tests to decide what year he would attend, to the hat ceremony and choosing his electives.”

“Hufflepuff?” Harry asked feeling a little disappointed, that Charlie wasn’t going to Gryffindor. That would’ve really been perfect. Hufflepuff was fine though. Before his first year, Draco Malfoy had warned him that only losers got sorted into Hufflepuff, but now Harry knew better. He didn’t really have much contact with any of the Hufflepuff’s in his year. Apart from that one time, when Finch-Fletchley and his friends accused him of being the heir of Slytherin. Other than that, he had no gripe with Hufflepuff. Of course, he couldn’t trust anything Malfoy said. He just hadn’t known that back then. “Everything’s great as long as it’s not Slytherin.”

Charlie frowned a little. “Honestly, I have no idea what any of that is. Hufflepuff or Slytherin.”

“You don’t?” Harry stared in surprise. Then again… “Snape that git! He should’ve explained it. It’s the Hogwarts houses. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin.” There was still no recognition in Charlie’s face. Of course, he wouldn’t know anything about that. Harry shouldn’t forget that. Charlie knew as much about the magical world, as Harry had known when Hagrid first picked him up. These last days must have been a convoluted and confusing mess for Charlie.

“Okay, the four founders of Hogwarts each had different ideas about what kind of students they wanted to teach,” he started to explain. “To give you the long and short of it: Gryffindor wanted the brave, Ravenclaw the smart, Slytherin wanted the purebloods, and Hufflepuff didn’t care and wanted all equally.” He quickly summarized not getting into details about the different criteria, because really, he had already forgotten all that.

In his first year, the hat had explained everything, and back then, Harry had listened intently. Since then, he hadn’t really cared that much anymore. He knew the differences, after all. He was proud of being a Gryffindor. And the rest of the houses... well the Ravenclaws were nerds, the Slytherins were pureblood supremacist bullies and the Hufflepuffs were the rest. That was about it. He would call it unfair prejudice, but so far, all this prejudice was reinforced every time he met anybody from the other houses. Hagrid had said it best, after all: There wasn’t an evil wizard who wasn’t a Slytherin.

“This seems nonsensical,” Charlie commented. “I don’t get the purpose of it.”

Harry felt a little affronted at that. He was a proud Gryffindor, and although he had to admit the criteria were a little random, he was happy being in Gryffindor. For every young wizard he knew, being sorted into their house was a big event. “It’s just a dorm system,” he said. “It promotes competition in classes and quidditch. It’s actually a lot of fun. You’ll see when you get there.”

“But why separate it along these criteria. The brave, the smart, the purebloods, and the rest. Seems rather random.”

Harry huffed. “I was just summarizing it. I think Slytherin is for ambitious and cunning, and Hufflepuff is for loyalty, but they’re accepting of all.”

Charlie nodded in understanding. “Still seems random. Why put all the ambitious people in one house? Or all the smart ones. If you mix that up, they could help each other. The ambitious could push the lazy ones and the smart ones could help the students who have trouble in class. And bravery? How’s that important at all?”

“Of course, bravery is important,” Harry bristled.

“For school?”

Harry huffed. How would Charlie know the sort of danger he had to go through every year. He was probably right that for any other ordinary school that Charlie might have gone to in his childhood, bravery was not a trait that would be at all relevant, but Hogwarts was different.

“Just seems like they’re putting kids in echo chambers,” Charlie finished, before he stood up from the booth, apparently ending their conversation.

Harry wanted to retort something, but he found he couldn’t. In fact, Charlie’s last comment sounded disturbingly fitting. How would somebody like Malfoy ever learn to respect muggleborn witches and wizards if he spent all day surrounded by like-minded Slytherin? He shoved the thought away because he didn’t want to think about it.

“Charlie! Wait, do you need help with your schoolbooks?” He didn’t really want to pay for Charlie’s entire supplies, but if that was the only option Charlie had, Harry would do it. He owned more gold than he needed – and really, he didn’t need to buy a Firebolt any time soon.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Charlie retorted waving. “I have everything.”

Harry was surprised. “What do you mean you’re fine? How did you pay for everything?”

Charlie smiled back at him. “I found some gold lying around.”

He found some…? Harry stared at him. What did he mean he found some gold lying around? Did he steal it? But no, Harry shook his head. He probably got a ministry stipend and just didn’t want to admit it or something like that.

**

It was the last day before the start of term. Kakashi found himself once more sitting in the backyard, probing the secret passage to Diagon Alley, with his chakra. He was frustrated. After Snape had confirmed to him, that magic could affect chakra, he had hoped the same was true the other way around. Each night he spent trying to find a chink to catch on to. A way to manipulate the passage with his chakra.

Nothing… The day was already starting, and once more, his chakra only felt smooth unassuming stone. Nothing that would indicate a secret passage. Frustrated, Kakashi stood up to touch the wall with his hand.

In a few minutes, the rush of witches and wizards visiting Diagon Alley would make further research all but impossible.

“Did you forget how to get through again?” A voice asked from beside him.

“No,” he turned to Harry, “I’m just trying to find out how it works.”

“By staring at it?” Harry laughed. “I don’t know if that’s the most effective way.”

Kakashi grunted. Obviously, it wasn’t effective, or he would have already found out how it worked.

“Then why don’t you open the passage, so I can watch closely and see if I can find something out?” Kakashi suggested.

Harry gave a skeptical shrug, but he pulled out his wand to tap on the brick stones. Kakashi carefully put a thin layer of chakra over the wall. When Harry tapped the wall, however, nothing happened.

Harry frowned. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Kakashi lied. Apparently, his chakra layer had blocked the contact between wall and wand… Was it so sensitive, that a thin layer of just anything could stop the passage from opening? Or was it chakra specifically that could block the entrance? Kakashi hadn’t found a way to open the passage himself yet, but apparently by sheer happenstance he had found a way to force it closed.

When Harry tried again, Kakashi removed the layer of chakra, around the area Harry hit with his wand. As soon as the wand retracted, he covered it again, before the passage opened. This time, it worked.

He could feel the wall move below his chakra, could feel his chakra merge into the wall, as the bricks shifted to the side. Harry nodded satisfied and went through the passage. “Do you want to join me?” he asked. “Tomorrow we’ll leave for King’s Cross.”

Charlie shrugged and followed, but he concentrated on the wall behind him still. The wall moved again to close when…

There! He could feel it. He didn’t know if his chakra had grown accustomed to magic after studying it for so long, or if it was simply that his chakra was now merged so deeply with the magical wall, that it became essentially one and the same. Whatever the reason, when the wall moved again, he could feel the magic. Just a faint trace of an unknown energy. Something barely detectable but no doubt powerful, that moved the wall and created a passage between dimensions. His chakra immediately latched on to it.

Then the wall was closed again, but the magic was still there. He could feel it, humming as if it had a heartbeat. He had never felt it before. Hours he had spent touching and probing the wall, but he had never felt anything that didn’t feel like a normal wall. Now, his chakra was probing and familiarizing itself with the new energy.

Kakashi retracted his own chakra. He felt a little exhausted after the ordeal. Still, he tried one last time, to probe the wall with the chakra he had left. YES! He could still feel it. He still didn’t know how to manipulate it, if he even could manipulate it, but he felt as if he had made a massive step forward.

“Are you coming?” Harry asked impatiently. Kakashi had almost forgotten about him. He quickly hurried after the boy.

They were just past Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor when somebody yelled Harry’s name. When Kakashi turned towards the voices, there were a boy and a girl waving at them. The girl had bushy brown hair and large front teeth. The boy had red hair and freckles… He seemed immediately familiar.

The picture! Harry had talked a lot about his friends Ron and Hermione, but how could Kakashi have guessed, that Ron was the same boy in the picture. The boy with the rat! Kakashi had only seen a black-and-white picture, he wasn’t a hundred percent certain, but the similarities were there.

So, maybe, the rat was close.

He had thought, he’d have to wait all the way to Hogwarts to find it, but instead, if he could kill Peter here already—

His mind ground to a sudden halt.

If he killed Peter here, what would that help? He’d kill a rat, no more. Do Animagi turn back to human form in death? He didn’t know that, so in the worst-case scenario, he’d just have a dead rat and no way to prove to anybody that the rat was once a man and that that man had done what Sirius Black went to prison for.

Would Sirius even thank him if he stole his revenge away from him?

But Sirius wasn’t a killer. Kakashi was certain of that much, at least. Would Sirius even be capable of killing the rat?

Kakashi had been hellbent on finding the rat. Now that he might be close, he realized that wouldn’t do anything. He had to find it alive. He had to somehow force it back into human form and then he had to present it to the ministry. That way, he could prove Sirius’ innocence. That was more important, wasn’t it?

Harry was Sirius’ godson. Sirius had talked all this time about how it would’ve been his job to raise Harry, how he regretted not being able to do that. And Harry lived with his abusive aunt and uncle who hated magic. If Kakashi managed to prove Sirius’ innocence, he could help both his new friends. He could finally allow Sirius to live free again, without fear of Azkaban. Harry could live with somebody who loved and cared for him.

Killing the rat, without proving anything, would destroy all chance they had to ever become the family that they were supposed to be all along. It suddenly seemed so clear to Kakashi. Killing the rat was never the aim. Or it shouldn’t have been. Instead, he needed the rat alive and ready to spill the beans.

Only Kakashi didn’t know how to do that. Sure, he might be able to catch it now and drag it to the ministry. Then he could hope that there was a spell to force an Animagus back into human form and that there was somebody in the ministry willing to believe the word of a teenager to try it against a rat and risk embarrassing themselves. Never mind that Kakashi had no credentials whatsoever. Just a kid who first discovered the magical world a mere month ago.

There were too many holes in the plan, and if only one thing went wrong, all he would have achieved was to warn the rat that he was after him. Kakashi knew by now, that magic would be difficult to handle. He was confident that he could best most wizards in a fight. Maybe all of them. He knew, he had skills they didn’t know how to defend against… But all the rat had to do to escape him was teleport away, and then there was nothing Kakashi could do to find him again. In fact, even without teleporting, if he just slipped away and hid with the other sewer rats… Kakashi was a good tracker, he was confident in his skill, but even he didn’t believe he could capture a random rat on the run.

No, the best would be to keep the rat close, make him feel safe, and prepare for a time, when Kakashi had a better plan. As long as the rat didn’t know Kakashi was after him, Kakashi could take his time to make his move.

“Who’s that?” the redhead asked with a nod towards Kakashi. The girl had her eyes narrowed at him.

“I’m Charlie,” he introduced himself, only now realizing that the others had been staring at him for a while.

“I met him in Little Whinging. Apparently, he lives just a few miles away,” Harry explained. He took the chair opposite his friends and then waved for Kakashi to sit beside him. “Those are my friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. I told you about them.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed at Kakashi. “Really?” she asked in a suspicious tone. “I never saw you in Hogwarts.”

Kakashi grabbed the menu. “I never went to Hogwarts before,” he explained distractedly.

Hermione was obviously suspicious. She glared at him as if he would spill all his secrets if she only looked long enough. “So, you went to Durmstrang? How did you end up in Little Winging, to meet Harry? That’s a funny coincidence isn’t it?”

“I didn’t go to Durmstrang,” Kakashi replied putting down the menu and glaring back at her. “I didn’t go to any school, because I never got a letter.” He decided to make a small scene because he had no idea how to explain, why Charlie Major suddenly walked from Horley to Little Whinging. This drama would hopefully distract her. “I’m getting really tired of explaining this.”

“Leave him be,” Harry quickly cut in when Hermione wanted to retort something. “He’s right. They didn’t send him a letter, but it’s alright now. The ministry took care of it and he’s going to start the third year with us.”

Hermione still didn’t seem happy. Her lips were a little pinched showing clear displeasure and embarrassment at his outbreak. Kakashi knew that meant, that although she was still curious, she wouldn’t ask anything further. “Well, okay,” she mumbled picking up the menu, that Kakashi had put down. “I was just curious. Sorry.”

“Anyway,” Ron changed the topic with the smooth subtlety of an oncoming train. “We looked everywhere for you, Harry. We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they said you’d already left—”

“How come you knew I’m staying at the Leaky Cauldron?” Harry interrupted his friend.

“Dad,” the redhead answered. Kakashi had no idea how that explained them knowing about Harry’s stay at the Leaky Cauldron, but apparently, Harry understood. “He said you blew up your aunt!”

Hermione peeked nervously over her menu. “Did you really?”

Kakashi turned to order a tea when Harry jumped into an explanation of the events surrounding his aunt and their meeting with Fudge. Ron was showing off a new wand, and they were talking about school supplies. Kakashi only listened with one ear, until his name was called out again.

“We’re staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight too! So, you can come to King’s Cross with us tomorrow! Hermione’s there as well! Charlie can come too,” Ron said throwing Kakashi an inviting grin.

“To King’s Cross?” Kakashi asked confused. Of course, he’d go to King’s Cross. If he understood it correctly, that was where the train to Hogwarts would leave from – though he didn’t look forward to taking the train. He didn’t like these metal boxes on trails. It seemed flimsy to him.

“Yeah,” Ron nodded. “Dad said the ministry will give us a ride. I’m sure there’s a seat for you.”

“Sure, thanks,” Kakashi accepted.

“The ministry?” Harry asked confused. “Why would they bother?”

Hermione frowned. “Yes, that’s odd. They don’t offer rides to just anybody, do they?”

Ron shrugged. “Well, my dad works there, and since the Ford Anglia is gone…Never look a gift horse in the mouth, right?” He chuckled.

Harry and Hemione didn’t seem convinced. Kakashi had his own ideas.

“It’s because of Harry,” he voiced his suspicions. Harry looked confused. “They think Sirius Black’s after you.”

Hermione laughed nervously. “I’m sure that’s not…What would Black want with Harry?”

“Is that true Harry?” Ron asked simultaneously looking at his friend with big eyes.

Harry shook his head. “That’s news to me.” He sighed. “But I wouldn’t be surprised…That’s just my luck.”

“It’s why the minister was so nice about you blowing up your aunt, and why they didn’t want you to go to muggle London. Snape said something about that when I spoke to him,” explained Kakashi.

Ron grimaced and grunted in disgust. “You talked to Snape?” But then he turned serious again. “You sure, Charlie?”

Kakashi shrugged and emptied his cup. He couldn’t smell a rat with the boy. For the moment, that was more important to him than whatever the ministry thought about Harry and Sirius.

“Don’t you have a rat?” he asked. “Harry mentioned you had a rat.” Harry had said no such thing, of course.

“Did I?” Harry blinked confused.

“Yeah, Scabbers,” Ron grunted. “He’s with my parents. Feels a little sick recently. Maybe he didn’t like the climate in Egypt. I got him checked over, but they said he might just be getting old.” Although Ron spoke in a tone as if he didn’t like having a rat, he seemed sad at the prospect of his rat dying. “He’s been with our family for years, even before Percy went to Hogwarts.” He shook his head.

To Kakashi, he was now reasonably certain this had to be the right rat. This was indeed the boy from the picture. That the rat suddenly got sick was likely stress after finding out about Sirius’ escape. Now, he only had to find a way to turn the rat back into human shape, and then he had to catch it.

“Speaking of which,” Hermione said, quickly paying her ice cream. “I still have a few Galleons left to buy myself something for my birthday. I thought about an owl.”

With that, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went off to the Magical Menagerie to buy Hermione an owl, while Kakashi turned back to the Leaky Cauldron. He had one last day to figure out how this dimensional travel worked and so far, he had only made little progress.

Also… He had to find a rat. He didn’t need to catch it yet, but if he could find it and familiarize himself with the scent, that would be useful.

Chapter Text

Harry tuned out Ron’s angry complaining about Hermione. Of course, Hermione had to go and buy a huge cat that had almost run Ron over. No wonder, Ron was mad, but Harry thought he was overreacting. After all, it was Hermione’s pet and Harry didn’t really believe, that Crookshanks – that was its name – wanted to eat Scabbers the way Ron seemed to fear.

At least when they entered the Leaky Cauldron, they finally stopped their argument. Mr. Weasley sat at the bar reading the newspaper with a big grin on his face.

“What’s up, Dad?” Ron asked taking the stool next to his father. “Did we win another prize?” Ron winked at Harry.

“No, but this is better,” the oldest Weasley grinned. “Somebody stole from the Malfoys. Right here in Diagon Alley. Lucius was spitting mad. This,” he flicked at the page in front of him, “doesn’t even begin to tell the story. Somebody stole almost a hundred Galleons right out of his son’s pockets.” Mr. Weasley snickered. “His fault of course. Why does he let his son run around with so much money?”

Ron and Harry laughed out loud. Harry really wished he’d have seen Draco’s face when it happened. He could just imagine it. The blond git flaunting his wealth in a shop only to end up at the counter unable to find his father’s money.

“Serves him right,” Ron laughed, doubling over from laughter.

“You sure it’s alright?” Hermione asked nervously. “I mean, this might have been Black.”

“If it was Black,” Ron snickered, “I applaud him.”

But he was the only one who still laughed. Mr. Weasley had sobered up quickly at the mention of the name and Harry was worried too. He still remembered what Charlie had told him earlier that day. Was Black really after him? He was sick of everybody wanting to kill him. Harry just wanted a peaceful year in school. Instead, he had Voldemort trying to murder him in his first and second year, and now apparently a mad ex-convict who had served Voldemort during the war. He was really getting tired of it.

He looked around for Charlie. The boy hadn’t gone into detail, about what Snape had told him. Harry itched to ask more about it. But he couldn’t find Charlie anywhere. He only turned back to Mr. Weasley, when the man folded the Daily Prophet together and put it down. There it was again… Sirius Black’s picture on the cover. It was now over a week ago, that they had increased the reward, but apparently, they were still looking for him.

“They still haven’t caught him?” Harry asked looking at the waxy skin and hellishly glowing eyes.

“No,” Mr. Weasley said gravely. He looked tired. “They’ve pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far.”

“Would we get a reward if we caught him?” That was Ron asking.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Mr. Weasley said. “Black’s not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It’s the Azkaban guards who’ll get him back. You mark my words.”

Everybody was talking about these Azkaban guards recently. Stan, the conductor on the Knight Bus had talked about them too. He seemed very spooked talking about them. Harry didn’t know anything about it. Hagrid had never talked much about his short time in Azkaban last year, but it had visibly drained him. He had never mentioned any guards, though. How bad could these guys be?

At that moment, they were interrupted by Mrs. Weasley, and Ron’s siblings – the twins, Percy and Ginny – entering the pub. They all greeted Harry enthusiastically. Mrs. Weasley showed off Percy’s Head Boy badge. When he left, Harry followed him with his eyes and… there!

Just across from him, looking at him with mildly interested eyes sat Charlie. When had he entered the pub? Harry didn’t remember seeing him come in.

“We tried to shut him in a pyramid, but Mom stopped us.” George nudged Harry’s side.

“Huh?” Harry turned away from Charlie. Who was George talking about? He followed George’s gaze up the stairs. Oh right…Percy.

**

The next morning Kakashi’s early set of one-armed push-ups got interrupted by the trampling of feet, the loud yelling of teenager voices, and banging doors. The oldest of the Weasley boys was missing his Head Boy badge.

With a yawn, Kakashi left his room all his stuff packed into a big trunk he had bought, not because he needed it – he could easily seal all his things into scrolls – but to better fit in with the other kids.

Kakashi heaved the trunk on the top of the stairs and listened. There were voices whispering. He realized he wasn’t the only one listening in. Just down the stairs standing at the bar was Harry.

“I don’t want to make him miserable. I want to put him on his guard!” Kakashi recognized Mr. Weasleys’ voice from the day before. He was whispering just below the stairs. If he didn’t want to be overheard, he should try harder. “You know what Harry and Ron are like, wandering off by themselves. They’ve ended up in the Forbidden Forest twice! But Harry mustn’t do that this year! When I think what could have happened to him that night he ran away from home. If that boy, Charlie, and the Knight Bus hadn’t found him…He would have been dead before the Ministry found him.”

Kakashi still stood at the top of the stairs. He hadn’t bothered to hide, and by now, Harry had noticed him, too. The boy looked up at him, and put a finger on his lips, telling him to stay quiet.

“But he’s not dead; he’s fine, so what’s the point—" That was Mrs. Weasley’s voice. Kakashi barely recognized it when she whispered.

“Molly, they say Sirius Black’s mad, and maybe he is, but he was clever enough to escape from Azkaban, and that’s supposed to be impossible.”

Again, Azkaban… What made this place so inescapable? It sounded as if Sirius had done an impossible deed by escaping. Kakashi bristled angrily. He still remembered the day he found Sirius – still in dog form. Half-starved to death and desperate. Was that the trick of how they kept the inmates locked up? Just weakening them to the point where they wouldn’t even have the will to escape?

“We almost had him. He was in a holding cell in the ministry, and then—Don’t ask me how he escaped. He had a partner, I tell you. There are two death eaters out there…This is worse than we thought. What they did to Alaric. Even Tonks, his own great-niece.”

Kakashi paled.

His own great-niece?

Kakashi had not just almost killed a friend, he had hurt Sirius’ niece? No wonder Sirius had been disgusted with him. He had attacked not just his friend, which would be bad enough, but his family too. Nervously, Kakashi dragged a hand through his dyed hair. He had really botched the escape, Kakashi knew now.

I’ll never forgive you. Do you hear me? I’ll hunt you down, and if it’s the last thing I’ll do.

“But we know what Black’s after—”

“Harry will be perfectly safe at Hogwarts,” Mrs. Weasley interrupted her husband.

Harry over at the bar turned deathly white. He took a step back, and pinched his lips, obviously trying to suppress any sounds. Then he almost jumped when Mr. Weasley banged his fist against the table. It was a miracle that none of them saw Harry.

“Molly, how many times do I have to tell you? They didn’t report it in the press because Fudge wanted it kept quiet, but Fudge went out to Azkaban the night Black escaped. The guards told Fudge that Black’s been talking in his sleep for a while now. Always the same words: ‘He’s at Hogwarts…he’s at Hogwarts.’ Black’s deranged, Molly, and he wants Harry dead. If you ask me, he thinks murdering Harry will bring You-Know-Who back to power. Black lost everything the night Harry stopped You-Know-Who, and he’s had twelve years alone in Azkaban to brood on that.”

Twelve years… Alone in Azkaban. Sirius had not once talked about Azkaban. Kakashi didn’t really have a concept of the place in his mind, but the more he heard about it, the angrier he got. Twelve years alone in Azkaban. The words were clear. Twelve years of isolation. And then they thought him mad for speaking in his sleep? If he seemed deranged to them, it was because this place had made him so!

Yes, indeed. That night, when Harry stopped this You-Know-Who-Voldemort was the night when Sirius lost everything. Kakashi knew that much at least. Only, not the way these people thought. And Sirius was never provided the means to mourn his family.

If Kakashi didn’t hope for more information, he would interrupt them right there. He hated to have people who clearly didn’t know anything about Sirius, talk about him like that. He hated it even more, that Harry had to listen to this. Kakashi knew how much Sirius cared about the boy, but if Harry just blindly listened to what other people said about Sirius, even with the rat captured and Sirius’ innocence proven…How could there be any trust between them?

Kakashi was about to make his presence known when the mention of the Azkaban guards made him reconsider. The conversation had now turned to Dumbledore, who Kakashi knew was the headmaster of Hogwarts and apparently a very powerful man—for being the headmaster of a school, anyway.

“We had to ask him if he minds the Azkaban guards stationing themselves around the entrances to the school grounds. He wasn’t happy about it, but he agreed,” Mr. Weasley said.

“Not happy? Why shouldn’t he be happy if they’re there to catch Black?”

“Dumbledore isn’t fond of the Azkaban guards. Nor am I, if it comes to that…but when you’re dealing with a wizard like Black, you sometimes have to join forces with those you’d rather avoid.”

The Azkaban guards. In his mind, these guards were the worst of the worst. How else could he explain the way everybody talked about them. He had first thought of people like Ibiki Morino, who would be well-versed in torture and interrogation and who could hold prisoners in check. Now he feared it might be worse. Were they so bad, that even their own allies would want to avoid them? Kakashi didn’t like the mentality. To offer up prisoners to the mercy of people you wouldn’t even want to interact with on a normal day…

Kakashi hated to think about it. And if they were now stationed at Hogwarts, that meant Sirius was running right towards his tormentors.

“You were right,” Harry whispered when Kakashi dragged his trunk down the stairs. The Weasley’s had quickly finished their discussion and left. Harry still stood where he was, frozen at the counter. “He’s after me.” He turned to Kakashi.

“Don’t listen to them,” Kakashi said, feeling a need to defend Sirius. “I’m sure it’s nonsense.” He couldn’t really explain to Harry how he knew that. If anybody knew that he had met Sirius, they would capture Kakashi and interrogate him until they knew everything Kakashi knew. Even if he evaded capture, that would only make helping Sirius much more difficult. He had a good position now, close to Harry and the rat. Risking that just to tell Harry a story, that the boy would have no reason to believe, wouldn’t be smart.

“Nonsense?” Harry snorted. His face was still ashen. “You heard it. He’s been talking in his sleep. ‘He’s in Hogwarts.’”

“There are plenty of people at Hogwarts,” Kakashi said vaguely. “Just…we don’t know anything yet.”

Harry shook his head. “Easy for you to say. You don’t know how it is. Voldemort’s been trying to kill me since I was a toddler. And now even his sympathizers…I’m so sick of it. I hate them all.”

“You don’t know anything about Black yet.” Kakashi didn’t relent.

“Yeah? I think I heard enough.” His shoulders slumped a little. “Sorry, Charlie. But you can’t understand it. You don’t know how it is… I just know.” He made to turn away from Kakashi. “But you’re right. I shouldn’t worry too much. I can take care of myself. It just sucks. Now, the teachers will watch every move I make.”

Kakashi suddenly felt an unexpected kinship towards Harry. He himself had never liked it when people treated him like a child as if he couldn’t handle the dangers, he was in.

Kakashi looked after Harry. Then he pulled his trunk out to the waiting cars.

“Ah, you must be Charlie!” Mrs. Weasley greeted him happily walking up to him to promptly wrap him into a tight embrace. “I’ve heard all about you, my dear boy. Unbelievable! I have a son called Charlie too, did you know? My second oldest.” Kakashi didn’t know. The oldest Weasley-kid he had met so far was a boy called Percy.

Kakashi was then seated in a car next to the Weasley twins and Ginny. Mrs. Weasley sat in the passenger seat. Kakashi didn’t know the driver. Through the rear window, he could see Mr. Weasley usher Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the oldest Weasley brother into the other car.

“So, Charlie,” one of the twins greeted him, “we heard you met Snape.”

“Called him Miranda, we heard,” the other twin added with a huge toothy grin.

“That’s a story we’d love to hear, don’t we George?”

“Yes indeed, Fred.”

As he couldn’t keep them apart based on their faces, Kakashi quickly memorized their individual scents.

Kakashi couldn’t wait for the cars to arrive at King’s Cross. He really wanted to leave London. Over the weeks he had gotten somewhat used to the stench and the noise, but he would be happy to be rid of it again.

**

Kakashi watched in awe, as Mr. Weasley and Harry leaned against the barrier between platform 9 and 10 on King’s Cross Station and…vanished. Curiously, Kakashi stepped a little closer. Was this another instance of magic hiding places in a different dimension? He looked around himself. Apparently, there was a hidden platform there, but as he looked around not only could he not see it. There would be no space for it here.

Kakashi carefully knocked against the barrier. It was solid, yet Harry had just slipped through. They hadn’t even used a passcode the way they did to enter Diagon Alley. And yet, it was no mere illusion. This barrier was real.

“How does it work?” he asked.

“Oh, dear. Of course, Charlie, you never did this before. How about you watch Ron and Hermione first?” Mrs. Weasley suggested.

Kakashi gave a short nod. Ron and Hermione nodded at each other and then walked right through the barrier. It didn’t make sense to Kakashi. He knocked against the hard surface again.

“But I can touch it. It’s not a mere illusion,” he wondered out loud.

“Of course not,” Mrs. Weasley said with a small frown. She stood next to him with her hand against the solid brick wall. “If you don’t believe or if you don’t want to pass, you won’t. After all, we don’t want muggles to accidentally fall through, do we?” She chuckled lightly, then she moved away, to let her eldest son and only daughter through.

Searching the wall, Kakashi finally found the magical core. The way he had found it at the wall to Diagon Alley as well. He quickly understood. His chakra probed and played with the faint magical energy he could detect. He could manipulate it, he realized.

Clearly, Kakashi couldn’t use magic, but with magic already there, Kakashi could interact with it. Which was good to know. That way, whatever magical seals or wards they had, he might be able to get through them even though he wouldn’t be able to cast them himself.

“Our turn,” the twins proclaimed.

Tentatively, Kakashi covered the magical core with his chakra.

WROOMMS!

The twins and their trunks crashed into the hard barrier. Confused they picked themselves up from the ground. A few muggles were looking at them and shaking their heads.

“What was that?” Fred asked picking up his trunk.

“Yes, what was that?” repeated George. He walked up to the barrier, poking at it with his finger.

“Not again,” cried Mrs. Weasley. “We had the same problem last year. When will they—”

But at that moment, Kakashi retracted his chakra, and George fell right through the barrier.

“Oh dear, thank Merlin,” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. “Go on, Fred, I’ll bring your brother’s things. Quick, before it closes again.”

Kakashi watched Fred pick up his things and quickly make his way through the barrier.

“I’m sorry this had to happen just now,” Mrs. Weasley apologized for something that was clearly not her mistake. Kakashi felt a little bad at experimenting, which was the main reason, why he didn’t do anything else. The other reason was that he feared, he might accidentally destroy the barrier by attacking it too aggressively with his chakra. If he could manipulate it, there was a chance, he might accidentally destroy the magic.

Getting through was, in the end, a surprisingly easy task. He closed his eyes, the moment he feared the impact against the wall, but then he just fell through. Kakashi stumbled a little, catching his suitcase before it could roll away from him.

“Well done, Charlie,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Now where is everybody?”

They found all the others just a few steps away. Only Percy was already gone. Fred was just explaining the story about how the barrier had closed on them for a moment.

“That’s weird,” Harry stated, just as George came to take his trunk from his mother. “I had the same thing happen to me in Diagon Alley.”

Mr. Weasey frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“It wouldn’t open. Then I tried again, and it worked… I thought I maybe have hit the wrong brick.” Harry shrugged.

Thankfully, that explanation was enough for the present Weasleys. Kakashi would have to be more careful, he realized. He didn’t want to get caught, manipulating magical barriers.

The Weasleys let the entire group towards the train. Kakashi covered his nose. This train stank abysmally of fumes. It was worse than all the other trains he had seen. An exhaust at the top of the engine let a thick dark-grey smog waft into the air. He hoped the ride wouldn’t be too long.

“Here, this looks good,” Mrs. Weasley said after they had already pulled their luggage past several compartments. They heaved all their luggage inside, then the kids went back outside to say goodbye. Kakashi almost missed that. He was looking for a seat when the youngest Weasley kid waved for him to come out again.

He was embarrassed as he watched the cuddly and loving scene. Mrs. Weasley was hugging and kissing all her children goodbye, even Harry and Hermione, who were decidedly not her kids. To escape, Kakashi stayed in the train door a step above everybody else, hoping that would put enough distance between them. He had survived one hug, but he didn’t need another one.

“Charlie!” Mrs. Weasley called for him. “I hope you have a great first school year. This is really new to everybody, so give your teachers some slack, but ask them if you need help with classes, okay?” Realizing that the door was too tight for an embrace, she opened her arms for him. “Come here.”

Horrified Kakashi stared down at her. The twins grinned stupidly behind him, giving him encouraging nods. They were mocking him. Kakashi didn’t move an inch.

“Mom…” Ron cried out. “Leave him be, he’s completely overwhelmed. This is embarrassing.”

Kakashi felt incredibly thankful when Mrs. Weasley listened to her youngest son. With a pouty expression, she let her arms sink. But then she gave Kakashi a loving pat on the arm – his shoulder was too high for her.

“Take care of yourself, Charlie.”

Kakashi barely even had eyes for her anymore. A bit further away, Mr. Weasley let Harry down the platform for a private discussion. With the somber expression on his face, Kakashi could guess what they would talk about. He lost them out of his sight when the twins entered the train and pushed him out of the way, into the wagon.

“Sorry,” Ron muttered to him, as he climbed in after his brothers. “That was embarrassing.”

Kakashi blinked. He looked back to the platform. Mrs. Weasley called out for her husband and then Harry came running back, jumping into the train.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kakashi turned to Ron, who was biting his lips. “You have a good mom. I’m just not used to it.”

Ron blushed a little.

Chapter Text

"I need to talk to you in private,” Harry said to Ron and Hermione, as soon as the Weasley parents and King’s Cross vanished out of sight.

“Go away, Ginny,” Ron said immediately. Then he turned to Kakashi. “Sorry, mate.”

“No,” Harry interjected. “Charlie… I mean—” Kakashi saw him duck his head when the Weasley girl glared at him.

“Very nice,” Ginny grumbled. “You know him for half a summer and already trust him more than me.”

Kakashi only knew Ginny for a day, but he was already aware of her little crush on Harry. It was as obvious as Obito’s crush on Rin had been. Maybe there was even a little hero-worship mixed in. In any case, Kakashi didn’t want to get involved. He could already guess what Harry wanted to tell his friends, anyway.

“Don’t mind me,” he waved at his three soon-to-be classmates. “I can find a seat on my own.”

The bushy-haired girl called Hermione looked after him as if she wanted to object. She probably felt bad for the poor lonely new student. Well, Kakashi didn’t need her pity. In any case, he had things to sort through. On his way through the train, he had caught his first clear whiff of Ron’s rat. In the Leaky Cauldron, he hadn’t been able to make him out, because Kakashi had expected a scent like Sirius’. A half-human half-animal scent. The Leaky Cauldron had hundreds of rats, but he had expected to be able to find the magical one. Now, he wasn’t so certain anymore.

Ron’s rat smelled nothing like Sirius had. It smelled of rat, and whatever faint human note there might still be, could easily just come from living in Ron’s cloak and sweater pockets for hours each day. Had Sirius been wrong, and this was just a normal rat? Or was the scent not a clear giveaway after all?

He didn’t know where the Weasley girl had walked off to, so instead, he followed the first familiar scent he found. Earthy and a little sweaty… What was the boy’s name again? Harry had introduced him, Kakashi was certain…

“Are you looking for your toad again, Longbottom?” a boy laughed haughtily. “They should hex you into a toad, you’d fit right in.” Boys’ laughter rang out from the wagon, Kakashi could smell Harry’s friend in. He heard a boy faking a bad ‘ribbit’. “Shame, the school doesn’t allow it. You might even find some friends—”

Neville, Kakashi thought. That was the name.

The boy’s voice cut off, when Kakashi slid the wagon door open with enough force, that it banged audibly. “Neville!” he called out. “You’re Neville, right? Harry introduced us last week.”

Neville sat in the middle of the corridor in front of three boys. All three were about their age, Kakashi guessed, but two of them looked much bigger than both Neville and Kakashi himself.

“Uh…” Neville stared up at him with pink cheeks. “Yah… Uhm, I mean, yes. You remember?”

“Sure do,” Kakashi said, though his eyes were momentarily not fixed on the boy but on the toad, he cradled to his chest. “Is that your toad?”

Neville looked embarrassed and clearly, the snickering from the other three boys didn’t help. “Uh-huh.” He nodded uncertainly. “Uh, that’s Trevor.”

“I like toads,” Kakashi declared, thinking of Minato-sensei and Jiraiya-sama though clearly, their summonings were a lot more interesting than this plain toad. “What are you doing on the floor?”

Neville was about to answer when one of the other boys interrupted the conversation. It was a slender boy with pale blond hair and a pointy face. He reminded Kakashi vaguely of a ferret. He was also certain he had met the boy before. Oh, right. This was the boy he’d taken the Galleons from, to buy his school supplies.

“Who might you be?” the blond boy asked, though instead of waiting for an answer, he immediately answered the question himself, thinking out loud. “Oh wait, I know. Our age, but I never saw you around… You must be the new kid my father told me about.”

Kakashi looked at him plainly. “I have no idea, what your father told you,” he admitted. “But I am new.”

“Mud—Muggleborn, Father said,” he continued. Neville hissed at him, but Kakashi noted that that wasn’t the reason why the boy had changed his choice of words. It was more deliberate. From the tone, Kakashi was certain, whatever he had started to say, was an insult. But he had said it – or rather not said it on purpose. It hadn’t just slipped out. “Just the right company for the toad.” He laughed unpleasantly.

“And who are you?” Kakashi said, his eyes narrowing at the blond boy.

The blond glared back at him. Then haughtily raising his head, he introduced himself. “Malfoy. I’m Draco Malfoy. I know you… fell through the cracks, but you should try to be better informed about the world you enter into.” He made it sound, as if the ‘falling through the cracks’ would’ve been a good thing, if only it wasn’t discovered.

Kakashi had fought and survived more intimidating and crueler enemies than a local school bully and his posse, so he ignored the boy and turned back to Neville, giving him a hand to pull himself up.

Malfoy’s pointy features turned red from anger. He took a threatening step forward, but due to the narrowness of the corridor, he didn’t get past Neville to Kakashi. “You think you can ignore me?” He asked in a hissing voice.

“Mah…” Kakashi hummed turning towards the kid. “Say… Malfoy, I’ve heard that name before.” There was a triumphant smile on Malfoy’s face. “I think I read it in the newspaper. You’re the kid that got robbed, aren’t you?”

Neville couldn’t suppress a small chuckle. Malfoy turned an even darker shade of red. Seething, he stared at Kakashi, then he threw his head back. “Let’s go!” He ordered his two friends and strutted out of the wagon. “I’m sure we can find better company than some mudblood and Longbottom.” He made it sound as if the ‘Longbottom’ was worse than whatever a ‘mudblood’ was supposed to be.

“I’m sorry about that.” Neville’s voice barely even reached his ears. He had half-turned away and quietly peeked into the next compartment. There were two young girls who looked at the half-open door and the two older boys with wide and fearful eyes.

“What are you apologizing for?” Kakashi asked a little irritated, ignoring the girls.

Neville looked over his shoulder at him. His cheeks had turned pink. “You got into trouble with Malfoy because of me. And he called you a—” Whatever the slur meant Neville couldn’t even get it over his lips.

“A mudblood?” Kakashi asked noting the scandalized look on the young girls’ faces. “What of it?”

Neville ducked his head. “You shouldn’t say that.” He turned to the girls. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to intrude…Is this seat occupied?”

He pointed at one side of the bench, where one of the girls had her school uniform neatly folded on the leather cushions. She quickly took the uniform away, placing it on her lap.

“No,” she squeaked. “It’s free, I mean.”

Neville nodded and sat down on the free spot. Kakashi – after short consideration sat opposite him, where the second girl had already scooted over. Neville eyed him questioningly.

“You aren’t with Harry?” Neville asked looking into the empty corridor before the door fell shut behind Kakashi. “I thought you’d sit with him.”

“He needed some privacy,” Kakashi replied easily.

The chubby boy bit his lower lip. “I’m sorry,” he apologized again, and once more Kakashi thought it was entirely unnecessary. It wasn’t Neville who had sent him away. Maybe “It’s just… It’s your first day. You must be nervous. I mean…I was afraid on my first day, and I was just one of many. It’s probably very difficult for you.”

While Neville spoke Kakashi looked at the two girls. They were throwing each other odd glances as if they were trying to communicate silently. It was obvious that they were listening in on Neville. When the boy mentioned that it was Kakashi’s first day, the two girls openly gaped at him. Kakashi waved back with an easy smile.

“It’s not that bad,” he replied to Neville when the boy finally finished. Neville was wringing his hands nervously, Kakashi realized. “You seem more nervous than me,” he added with a chuckle.

He had meant it as a joke, but Neville avoided his eyes looking to the floor with red embarrassment on his cheeks. “My grandmother always says I’m a coward,” he muttered under his breath, barely audible. Then he coughed. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to… I thought you might be nervous. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I didn’t take offense,” Kakashi replied. This boy was odd, he thought. Kakashi didn’t remember ever meeting anybody with such low self-esteem while also being completely honest about their lack of confidence. “So, what’s a mudblood?”

The girl next to him flinched physically and then glared at him. It was obviously a bad word. Neville stared with big eyes. He glanced at the girls and then back at Kakashi.

“You’re not supposed to say that,” he reminded Kakashi. “Your parents are muggles, right?” Kakashi nodded. “Malfoy’s parents are pureblood. There are people like him, who think that because their family has been magical for generations, they are therefore better than half-bloods, who have a non-magical parent, or muggleborns like yourself.” He shook his head, then he quickly added, as if he feared Kakashi might misunderstand otherwise: “It’s all hogwash, of course.”

Like the Uchiha and Hyuuga, Kakashi thought. These old clans often thought they were better than clanless kids. Of course, there was a truth to that arrogance. Most clans had special ninjutsu, some even a kekkei genkai, and especially the Hyuuga and Uchiha were protective of their powerful doujutsu.

“So, can purebloods do anything better?” he asked to make sure. From Sirius’ explanation, it had sounded, as if there was no such thing as secret family techniques. Harry, he remembered, had also talked about purebloods and muggleborns and never mentioned any differences.

“No!” Neville replied quickly. He shook his head decisively. “Just look at me and Hermione. I’m a pureblood, and I can barely do anything. And Hermione is a muggleborn and the smartest witch in our year.” While talking about Hermione he had started grinning, but now he was frowning again. “You know Hermione?”

“I met her,” Kakashi said. “Harry’s friend.”

“Yes, right…” Neville looked at the two girls, then out of the window. He was still clutching his toad, when they lapsed into silence, giving the girls the opportunity to continue their conversations about what houses they wanted to be sorted in.

Kakashi listened in with one ear, eager to pick up as much information as he could. Harry had already told him about the four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw. Odd names, and he still struggled to pronounce Slytherin. Harry had kept the explanation short. Kakashi hadn’t been impressed by the whole house system. To him, the criteria by which the kids were sorted into separate houses seemed completely benign.

Konoha of course also sorted their young genin into separate teams. But those teams were smaller and each genin was placed with some care to balance the overall team. Not that that necessarily yielded better results… Kakashi hadn’t been a good teammate. He hadn’t gotten along with Obito and barely bonded with Rin, before Obito’s death. Even then it was too late and Kakashi too weak to protect Rin. It wasn’t the first time, that Kakashi considered if Obito might still be alive if instead of Kakashi they had a different teammate who gave Obito the respect and attention he had deserved.

He didn’t want to think about his dead teammates, so instead he focused back on the girls. Apparently, Hogwarts houses were a matter of pride and tradition for wizarding families. One of the girls proudly exclaimed that all her family was in Ravenclaw, and she would therefore have to go there too.

At some point, an elderly witch came past with a candy cart. Neville declined, saying something about being on a diet. Kakashi declined as well – he didn’t like sweets. But the girls bought something called Chocolate Frogs. As they opened the first, Kakashi immediately regretted, that he hadn’t bought some to. The moment it was free of the packaging the small chocolate animal leaped towards freedom. It had made its way halfway up the window before one of the girls caught it and bit off its head. It was fascinating. Kakashi curiously watched as they opened more of the frogs.

As time passed, it slowly turned dark outside, and lanterns were flickering to light in the corridors and over their heads. The girls were still debating the houses.

“Gryffindor would be okay too, I guess,” the wannabe-Ravenclaw said, but she made a face as if she tasted something sour. “I mean that’s where Harry Potter is, right? And Dumbledore was a Gryffindor, so they have smart people too. Just as long as I don’t become a Hufflepuff.” She put her tongue between her teeth in a childish gesture.

“I’d rather be in Hufflepuff than in Slytherin. Sure, Hufflepuff’s might be a bit simple, but at least they’re not evil.” The other girl made a scandalous face.

Kakashi was a Hufflepuff and for a moment he considered if he should get offended over his housemates being called simple. Then he decided to just let it pass. He might be a Hufflepuff now, and he had bought a few yellow and black ties for his uniform – he didn’t even know how to tie them right and dreaded wearing them around his neck – but he didn’t feel any loyalty for the house. In fact, he hadn’t even met another Hufflepuff yet.

“Do you know what you’ll be, Charlie?” Neville asked finally talking again after an eternity of staring out of the window.

“What I’ll be?” Kakashi repeated.

“The house sorting. You’ll get sorted later, right?” Neville blushed again.

“Oh no,” Kakashi shook his head. “I was sorted at the ministry. Professor Snape came himself.” He noticed that Neville paled at the teacher’s name. “I’m a Hufflepuff, apparently. Not that I know what it means.” Grinning, he nodded towards the two girls. “Apparently it means I‘m simple.”

“Oh no!” The girl who had used the word ‘simple’ cried out. Her eyes were round from mortified embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it—It’s just everybody says… Uhm… I’m sure Hufflepuff is great!”

She finally closed her mouth when she realized she had nothing good to say about the house. “Yeah right,” the other girl laughed, but then she glanced at Kakashi ducking her head.

“It’s really not bad,” Neville quickly added. “The hat almost sent me to Hufflepuff in my first year, you know.” But then his friendly smile died, and he looked back to the ground. “I mean…I don’t know if that…” He looked as if he wasn’t certain the hat almost sending him to Hufflepuff would do anything to change Kakashi’s opinion about the house. He really needed a confidence boost, Kakashi thought but had no idea how to provide it.

“I don’t really care,” Kakashi admitted. “Honestly, the whole house thing seems strange to me.” He shrugged. Neville looked as if he wanted to retort, but then he closed his mouth again. “You’re in Gryffindor, right?” Kakashi continued.

“Yes,” Neville answered immediately. “The hat took really long to decide though.”

Kakashi looked at him strangely. “Does it make a difference how long the hat needs?”

Neville seemed uncertain. Then he raised his shoulders. “I don’t know. It took forever for Harry, but Harry is the bravest kid I know.”

Kakashi almost snorted at that. Not to disrespect Harry, it just still seemed so nonsensical to him, to use bravery of all things as a criterium to separate children. Obito, the thought came to him unbidden. Obito would’ve been a Gryffindor. Sure, the boy had always cried easily, getting dust in his eye despite the goggles he always wore… But Obito was also the kind to run head-first into trouble. Obito had also been the first of the team to die… Of course, in the end, they had all died.

“Harry?” One of the girls asked Neville. “You’ve mentioned this Harry before… But you don’t mean Harry Potter?”

Neville grinned sheepishly. “The one and—”

There was a metallic squeak when the Hogwarts Express came to a sudden halt on the tracks. One of the girls was so surprised, she let go of the stack of Chocolate Frog Cards on her lap. Apparently, these candies came with small data cards giving the name, picture, and background information of famous witches and wizards. Moving pictures like the ones in the Daily Prophet.

“What’s going on?” The girl asked, irritated, as she bent down to pick up her cards. “Are we there already?”

Neville shook his head. “No, that can’t be right.” He was the only one of them, who had taken this train to Hogwarts before, so Kakashi was inclined to believe him. “It should take at least another hour.” He leaned over the girl next to him to peak out of the window.

Kakashi felt uncomfortable. He couldn’t place the cause, but his instincts were firing wild warning signals. The hairs in his neck stood up. Something didn’t feel right. There was a shift in the atmosphere – almost undetectable at first. A memory poked at the edge of his mind, he quickly pushed it away without giving it further consideration, the way he was used to doing after a bad nightmare.

“It’s getting colder.” Kakashi was the first who noticed it. He peered past Neville through the window, but there was a thick fog, and it was already dusky outside.

One of the girls nodded. She took her cloak and put it over her shoulders to keep herself warm. “Yeah… Why is it getting so cold? Close the window!” Neville who had just opened the window to poke his head out, quickly slid it shut again. He looked from the girls to Kakashi, then he made a brave face. Apparently, he decided that being the only one in the compartment who wasn’t just about to start their first year at Hogwarts, he ought to go and investigate himself.

“I’ll go ask somebody,” he announced opening the door. He didn’t seem eager to go out alone, so Kakashi stood up to offer his help. “No, no, Charlie, you should stay,” Neville said quickly. “I can…I can handle this.” His eyes flickered to the clearly confused and afraid girls. Reluctantly, Kakashi nodded and sat back down, before Neville left the compartment.

“What do you think is going on?” the Ravenclaw-wannabe said. Kakashi had caught her name already: Mary.

“I don’t know,” he admitted unhappily. This situation creeped him out. He hated not knowing the threat, but he could clearly feel it lurking in the fog. He stared into the dark outside. “There’s something out there.”

He felt uncomfortably reminded of the war. Of Obito and Kakashi waiting outside the cave where Rin was hidden.

Those who break the rules are scum, but those who abandon their friends are worse than scum. Obito’s voice rang in his ears. The judgment hurt.

Kakashi shook his head. He couldn’t allow himself to get distracted now.

“You look pale. Are you alright?” Mary asked.

Are you alright, son? Did they say anything to you?

Leave me alone, Dad, I can take care of myself.

He shook his head. Why was he replaying these old memories?

“I’m fine,” he replied.

There was a rumbling in his ear. It sounded horribly familiar, but he couldn’t place it yet.

“What is that?” the other girl asked. She had her hand against the window, blowing her own foggy breath against the glass. A thin sheen of ice crept up the windowpane.

“It’s frost,” Kakashi noted confused. What was happening?

Friend Killer Kakashi!

He grabbed the girl. “What did you call me?”

The girl gaped at him, her jaw hanging open. “I didn’t—I didn’t say anything,” she stuttered.

KAKASHI!

The hand holding the girl was red with blood, tainted. He let her go as if he had burned himself on her shirt. “I’m sorry,” he gritted through his teeth. “Excuse me. Stay here, I’m just outside.” He opened the door and stumbled into the corridor.

The rumbling was still in his ear—What was it? Where did it come from?

He raised his hand against his temple, trying to keep his mind focused on the present.

A genjutsu? He put his hands together in a hand sign. “Kai!” he ordered, but the rumbling was still in his head. That’s where it came from. It was just in his head.

Kakashi!

Promise, Kakashi! Promise you’ll protect Rin.

I’m sorry, Kakashi. I never wanted this…

OBITO!

Kakashi!!

He could see Rin right there. The girl from his nightmares. Blood pouring out of her mouth. Saying his name, like a curse in his ears.

“Kai…,” he whispered again, but it didn’t do anything to dissolve his hallucinations. He had to concentrate, focus on the here and now.

It’s not real, he told himself.

It was cold, freezing temperatures on the First of September. He focused on that. But the rumbling was still there, the noise of a cave collapsing over their heads.

Kakashi!

Promise you’ll protect Rin.

I’m sorry I couldn’t be there sooner.

Kakashi!

Friend Killer Kakashi.

Kushina’s pregnant. I want you to guard her against all incidents.

Kakashi!!

I’m sorry, Kakashi…

Coldblooded Kakashi.

Voices were swimming in his head, whispering, screaming, making it difficult to concentrate. He pushed them aside. Every muscle in his body was tense. He wanted to get away from here. His mind fired warning signals at a rate that made him nauseous. With a Chidori, he could rip the roof of the train apart and flee, but instead, he forced himself to remain. Whatever this was…

There!

In the dimly lit corridor on the other side of the wagon, the door slid open, and…there was nobody. Yet cold wind came rushing in, making him shiver. No…That wasn’t right…Something…Something was going on.

He watched baffled, as further down the corridor on the other side of the wagon the doors to the compartments slid open. Children cried out in fright.

He tried to concentrate. He was certain that he wasn’t alone in the corridor. Something was there and creeping closer…slowly. Yet, he couldn’t see. Then, his Sharingan picked up two shapes of energy and as he concentrated his chakra into his eye, he could slowly recognize the silhouettes.

Two hooded figures. They were floating, he realized immediately, first thinking it was another hallucination, or maybe that the darkness was playing a trick on his eyes. But when they came closer, he was certain, what he saw was real. Their cloaks billowed around them giving them an almost ethereal quality. If they were ghosts, they had to come directly from hell. Their cloaks were black, wifty, and ripped. Their breaths rattled in their lungs. When they stopped in front of the next set of doors, each turning to one side of the corridor opening them, their hands seemed old, grey, and wrinkly.

Kakashi!

For a moment, he lost sight of them altogether, and all he could see was Rin, standing right in front of him, her eyes dying, her mouth puking blood, his Chidori through her chest... The chirping of the birds.

But his hand wasn’t in her chest. It hung uselessly at his side and yet he could see it, disappearing into the gaping hole in Rin’s torso.

He tried to touch Rin, but just before his real fingers made contact with her skin, her shape disappeared. There was blood on his hands!

The two hooded figures had turned away from the doors and towards the next compartments. They were huge, filling the entire corridor from floor to ceiling. All around him he could hear voices. Screaming, begging, pleading, yelling, whispering… He didn’t know which of them were only in his mind, and which came from the students in the wagon with him. Only the rattling lungs—that was real.

He wanted to flee. He took half a step back, but then he remembered the two young girls he had left behind. Shivering from both the cold and fear, he retreated into the compartment.

“What is it?” Mary asked when he firmly closed the door behind himself. Her voice was tiny and afraid.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. He had no idea.

He was afraid, he realized. He didn’t remember the last time he was that afraid. This was an unknown enemy. An enemy that brought him close to either unconsciousness or a full-blown panic attack simply by being there. He could feel it edging into his consciousness, just waiting for the moment his concentration would slip, to take over. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He shoved all the memories, all the fear and the fogginess of his mind away from himself. Ready to defend himself and the girls, he took up position.

The wand wouldn’t help him he knew, and the Hogwarts school uniform he had put on earlier on the journey wasn’t suited for battle. It was too heavy and too loose to move freely. But it also offered ample opportunity to hide weapons. He reached into his cloak, grabbed the handle of the Kunai he had hidden in his belt.

It wouldn’t be long now, he knew, by the freezing temperatures that plummeted further and further the closer the creatures came upon them.

“I’m afraid,” Mary said.

“Can you hear that too?” her friend asked. “The voices. I can hear voices.”

“I don’t hear—” Mary was about to respond, but then she snapped her mouth shut, gaping at the door. It slid open without making a sound. A grey hand clenched around its edge. It looked like crooked bones and wrinkly skin and no flesh whatsoever.

Kakashi! Promise you’ll protect Rin! Obito! I’m sorry, son. Kushina’s pregnant. The Kyuubi! Kakashi!

The voices were thundering in his head. Kakashi had the strong need to vomit, and an even stronger pull to give himself to unconsciousness to avoid the memories of his trauma. But instead, he remained standing in the middle of the compartment. Ready to dash against the intruder as soon as the time was right.

The rattling breath and then—

His kunai flashed in the light of the lantern, as he slashed against the hooded figure. He drove the knife deep, cut through wispy cloth until he found something solid underneath. When he finally did, it felt like cutting a corpse. His knife cut through skin and dry bone, but there was no reaction from the creature. He felt no blood on his hands, and as he pulled his knife back all he saw was Rin’s blood.

He shook his head, banished the memory. Looking up, for a moment he froze. The face. It wasn’t human. A long, pale grey and grotesquely shaped thing resembling a human skull, with skin stretched over it. A gaping maw for a mouth, revealing sheer blackness where there should be the teeth, tongue, and throat. And there were no eyes. The eye sockets were empty, the way Obito’s had been as they left him.

And then, in a moment of distractedness, the memory came full force. Where he had just seen the misshapen face of the wraith, now there was Obito, bleeding from an empty eye socket, body and face half crushed by a boulder that was meant for Kakashi.

The creature struck out at him. Spindly thin, but strong fingers clawed over Kakashi’s face, ripping the skin open, then they locked around his throat. The creature was strong, stronger than a normal human, but not stronger than Kakashi, and still, Kakashi was so stunned by the memory of Obito’s dying moments, that he couldn’t defend himself. He felt frost creeping up his neck, biting into his skin.

Mary’s scream brought him back to the present. Putting all his force in it, he kicked against the wraith’s torso. The attack finally dislodged the creature’s grip and drove it out of the compartment. He had hoped to drive it out of the train too. He hadn’t even cared that he might ruin the train if he could only get rid of the creature. But somehow it caught itself in the corridor. Then it hovered in front of the door.

For a moment, the ghostlike creature seemed uncertain what to do next. Slowly it sucked in air through its maw. The sound made Kakashi’s ears ring. Then it turned half away and further down the corridor.

Kakashi slumped as the tenseness drained out of him. He wasn’t quite willing to give in yet, as the creature was still close, and the memories were still gnawing at his mind, but it seemed the immediate danger was over. Both wraiths slowly crept away. It took several minutes until they finally heard the wagon door shut behind them.

Mary shuddered. “What was that?” she asked teary-eyed. “That was horrible! Are you hurt?”

At first, Kakashi didn’t register, that she was talking to him. He put his fingers up to his cheek, feeling the scratches there. His throat ached from frostbite.

“You’re injured. What was that?” She repeated her initial question. “What did it want? Oh Merlin!” Her voice trembled. The other girl was crying. She sat slumped on her side of the bench muffling quiet sobs.

“I’m alright,” Kakashi replied, but he had to force the words out. He felt like vomiting. He fell back on the bench pressing his wrist against his mouth, to prevent himself from gagging. He knew, the moment he relaxed, even more, he’d lose consciousness, and he didn’t yet feel safe for that.

“It attacked you. You’re bleeding.” Mary hovered over him her hand raised but she didn’t dare touch him. “You should get that treated before it leaves scars.”

At a different time, Kakashi would’ve scoffed. He didn’t particularly care about any scars the attack might leave. It wouldn’t be his first after all. “Just give me a moment,” he said instead of rebuking here.

And just a few seconds later, he was out.

Chapter Text

It was the First of September, Sirius thought, though he wasn’t sure. Every now and then, he’d find old newspapers, though he could never be certain if they were from the day when he found them, or the day before. Sometimes he overheard muggles talking and mentioning the date… But still, he wasn’t completely certain.

Time was a useless construct to him. Every day he was on the road, every day he walked from morning to night, every day he would fish his food out of some garbage or catch a rat. Sometimes he would steal a chicken from a farm. (Though not too many. Sirius didn’t want to kickstart a hunt for the chicken thief.) He never turned into his human form when he didn’t need to. He never paused in any of the towns and villages to gather information if he didn’t need to.

So ultimately, it was of little consequence to him, if it was still August or already September if it was Monday or already Thursday. The days turned one into the other, as he slowly made his way north.

One paw in front of the other. A well-known, exhausting routine on endless repeat. One step at a time… Sirius didn’t think about the goal anymore, just about the next step. He hadn’t even reached York, yet. Scotland and Hogwarts seemed so far away.

Part of him feared, he would never reach it.

Part of him feared, he would never find it.

So, he kept focusing on the next step. On one paw in front of the other.

The soles under his feet were burning. His whole body aching. He was tired. At times, he couldn’t see straight, and he didn’t know if it was hunger or exhaustion. But he kept going.

One step at a time.

It was the only mantra that drove him forward.

If he didn’t make it to Hogwarts, what even was the point of escaping Azkaban. He knew he had nothing else… Nothing else to lose, nothing else to do, nothing else to wait for. In Hogwarts, he would kill Peter. And then…?

On the First of September, the students would return to Hogwarts. Harry Potter in their midst…and the traitorous rat. Sirius was certain…If he was wrong…if Peter wasn’t there…

What would’ve been the point?

For Sirius, this was a trip with no alternative and no way back. Turning back, all that awaited him would be the dementor’s kiss. A fate worse than death.

And in front of him, was the murder he had to commit. His first…And then—

He didn’t know. And he stopped his spiraling thoughts at that moment because there was no ‘then’. In his mind, there was no ‘afterward’. How had Kakashi called it? Sirius had a mission. The mission was all he had. And after that, there was nothing waiting for him.

He knew that, so he refused to think about it. About a theoretical afterward that still seemed so far away—More than 300 miles and a dead rat away.

One step at a time.

He felt his body’s weakness drain him, tire him. His paws stumbled over the grovel. There was blood between his claws from where he had carelessly scraped his skin against the rough ground, too tired to lift his legs. The ache was already numbing his entire body.

He lost consciousness in a ditch long before the night fell upon him.

**

Kakashi woke up to the horrific memory of Obito’s crushed body stuck under the bolder. He woke up with the unsettling feeling of being in strange territory, surrounded by enemies.

Breathing calmly, he didn’t move a muscle, assessing his situation. His memories only slowly sorted themselves. Not enemy territory, but a train full of children traveling to Hogwarts. Obito’s death was over a year in the past.

He vividly remembered the wraith-like creature. He must have lost consciousness after they left.

He stretched his body a little, opening his eyes and sitting straight up. “How long was I—” He started to ask, but at that moment, the cabin door slid open. Neville stood there with a flushed red face.

“You’re alright!” He sounded relieved. “That was scary. I made it back as fast as I could.”

“How long?” Kakashi asked looking at the girls.

Mary looked at him confused. “What are you talking about?”

They hadn’t noticed. Kakashi looked from her to her friend, but neither seemed to know what he meant. They hadn’t seen him fall unconscious. Had it only been a few short minutes?

“I wasn’t gone long,” Neville said, thinking the question was meant for him. “Maybe fifteen minutes. Why? Is something—”

At that moment the Hogwarts Expressed lurched and set into motion again. Distractedly, Kakashi looked out of the window. The fog was gone. It was already late evening and the sun had started to set.

“What was that?” He turned to Neville. “These creatures. Did you find somebody who could tell you?”

Neville slumped heavily on the bench. “Uh-huh,” he nodded paling a little. “Yes, I met…Apparently, Harry, Ron, and Hermione share a compartment with a teacher, he…uh, when the Dementors came, he woke up and stopped it from…” he shrugged. “I mean I don’t know what it was doing really. I felt really bad, but then Harry passed out.”

“Harry passed out?” Kakashi repeated. The way Kakashi had? It clearly hadn’t only affected him.

“He was still out of it, when I left,” Neville admitted. “I don’t know why. I mean, I didn’t like it either, but I didn’t pass out. Normally Harry’s much braver than me…” He shook his head.

Kakashi considered this bit of information. What was it about Harry that the Dementors affected him more than Neville? Especially, if Neville was right, and Harry was the braver of the two and would normally deal better with stressful situations. And why had it affected Kakashi similarly to Harry?

Of course, Kakashi could make his own assumptions. He was in tune with reality enough, to know that the voices had only been in his head. He had seen and heard distinct memories from his past. Some of the most horrific events of his life crashing down on him. He knew that hadn’t been real. The wraith had dragged the memories out of his mind and made him re-experience his trauma. Was this it then? Creatures that could make you relive the worst times of your life?

Harry was an orphan. That would explain, why he had been affected more than others if the creatures had turned that against him. It was Kakashi’s best guess.

“What happened?” Neville asked after taking in a deep shaky breath. When Kakashi didn’t answer immediately, he indicated Kakashi’s cheek. “These scratches. You didn’t have them earlier.”

“The thing,” it was Mary who answered. “When it came in, Charlie tried to jump it, but it caught him in the neck and then hit him in the face.” She didn’t look at Kakashi as she spoke, instead she hunched into the protective warmth of her robes. “I was scared.”

“A dementor attacked you?” Neville stared at him with big and round eyes. “Does it hurt? You should get that treated. Maybe I can go bring that teacher from Harry’s compartment. He can help.”

Kakashi waved him off. These scratches were no problem and would heal just fine. He barely even felt them. No point in making a mountain out of a molehill. “It will heal,” he said. “What were these things?” Neville had used a word for them. He remembered hearing the same mentioned in the ministry. “Dementors? What did they want?”

Neville grimaced. “The professor said they were looking for Black.” He huffed. “As if he’d be hiding in here…”

Kakashi felt a lump in his throat. He tried to clear it with a cough. “Black,” he choked, dreading what he was about to find out. “Why would they be looking for Black?”

Neville frowned at him, then his worried expression cleared. “Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know. I’m sorry. Dementors are the Azkaban guards.”

Kakashi felt like choking. The Azkaban guards. He had wondered about them since everybody had only mentioned them with pale, fearful faces and quiet voices. Naturally, he had assumed them to be humans – maybe sadistic torturers – but still human. There had been nothing human about these creatures. They seemed dead, dreadful, barely even corporal. He had felt almost helpless against the creature in a way he hadn’t felt for years.

The dementor hadn’t been incredibly strong, yet still, Kakashi didn’t know how to fight it. It didn’t seem to care about its own injury when Kakashi cut it and in the meantime, it had tortured Kakashi with his worst memories…

And Sirius, if he remembered correctly, hadn’t he just lost his best friends before first being thrown into that wretched prison? Surrounded by these torturous, dreadful creatures. Kakashi wouldn’t want to spend a whole day in their presence…never mind twelve years.

He felt incredibly childish, as he heard himself repeating Neville’s words, in a desperate hope that it wasn’t true after all, and just a joke. “They are guarding Azkaban? The prison?” He shook his head. He felt sick, just imagining it.

Neville nodded. “Yes. I don’t know much about them. My grandmother always said that they’re the most wretched creatures to guard the most wretched people. It’s thanks to them that there wasn’t a single Azkaban break out since…well, until this summer.”

Kakashi stared at Neville, then he turned his head to look outside. The Hogwarts Express was moving north again, towards Hogwarts. Outside the day was steadily becoming night.

He knew now…That was the torture of this prison. When he first arrived here, it had seemed like a Utopia, and in a way, it still was, as the country was at peace…But behind that glamorous façade, there was an ugly truth… Increasingly, he had felt as if nothing in this world could harm him, though he had to find ways to navigate around his lack of magical talent. Now, however, he knew. There was darkness here.

Kakashi was certain he wouldn’t survive the Dementors for any extended period. He had only faced one of them and only for a short while. Yet, he knew already, that he would not survive a year, never mind twelve, with these Dementors. Even without them, it was hard enough surviving in his own head.

“We should arrive soon,” Neville said eventually.

**

Sirius woke to a painfully sharp poking into his side. Growling and still half asleep, he hid his snout under his paws. A sharp intake of air made him jump to his feet, now wide awake.

“It’s alive!” a boy’s voice screeched.

Kakashi? Sirius thought automatically, though the boy sounded nothing like Kakashi. The voice was a lot younger.

The first thing Sirius could see in the dimming light of the evening was a head of tightly curled red hair. Freckles. The boy was gracelessly sitting on his bum. In his left hand, he held the stick with which he had poked into Sirius’ side. Sirius still felt the ache in his ribs.

“You’re alive!” The boy grinned, scrambling to his knees and into a crouching position next to Sirius. Tentatively he reached out with his fingers to awkwardly pat Sirius’ head.

Not knowing what to do, Sirius stood. He enjoyed the human contact, but the rudeness of his awakening was still lingering. He was also still tired. The bone-deep exhaustion was still there. He couldn’t have slept for long. Dirt crusted in his fur. He had lain just at the side of the road.

“Tammy, Tammy!” The boy yelled over his shoulder. “He’s alive! I told you he’s alive. You said it looked dead!”

As he looked over the boy’s shoulder, he noted that he wasn’t far from a small house. A girl poked her head over the garden fence, then she pushed the gate open and ran to the boy. She wasn’t much older than the boy. He was maybe 9, Sirius guessed. She looked like 11. Just barely reaching Hogwarts-age.

“Mom said, you should stay away!” the girl warned. “Who knows? It might be sick.” She had the same curly red hair as her brother but far fewer freckles.

“He’s hungry!” The boy exclaimed, still awkwardly patting Sirius. “You’re hungry, right boy?”

Sirius barked in agreement. If the kids were willing to feed him, he wouldn’t complain. He hadn’t resorted to begging for scraps yet. Not because it was beneath him, but because he avoided people. With those two kids already there, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Yes,” the girl agreed with a worried frown on her face. “It looks hungry…” She now stood just a step away from Sirius, but unlike her brother, she didn’t reach out for him. Watching him suspiciously as if thinking he might transmit a sickness, she had her arms folded in front of her. Then she sighed. “I’ll go get something!”

And with that, she ran back to the house. Happily, Sirius barked after her.

“Yeah, you’re hungry,” the boy chuckled. “Good boy!”

But as the girl came back, a bag of something in her hand, there was a woman following hot on her heels. She suddenly and quite rudely grabbed her daughter’s shoulder and pulled her back into the garden. Then she came rushing at Sirius and the boy with a broom in her hand.

“Kevin, get away from that mutt!” she ordered waving with the broom. “Shoo, shoo!”

“Mom, stop!” The girl cried out, running after her mother.

The boy jumped from shock, staring at his mom. “Mummy, he’s a good boy!” he tried to explain.

The woman listened to neither of her kids. “What did I tell you about wild animals and mongrels, Kevin? It could bite you. Get away from it!” She basically threw her broom at Sirius, who jumped out of the way.

Sirius barked loudly at the woman, feeling grief over the missed meal.

“Shoo!” Again, she waved at him with the end of her broomstick. This time, she hit him against the snout. She looked almost apologetic as he ducked his head with a painful whine as if she hadn’t tried to hit him.

“Stop it, Mummy!” the boy cried.

Barking one final time, Sirius fled without further hesitation.

**

Kakashi had a strong urge to turn around. First, he thought it was his instincts warning him of any sort of danger, but as he stepped out of the train, he couldn’t detect any danger. None of the students around him seemed to sense anything either. Wearily, he pushed it to the back of his mind, deciding to stay alert if anything happened.

It was pouring icy rain on Kakashi. Annoyed, he pulled up the collar of his robes. The school uniform was made of heavy cotton and wool that soaked wet so quickly, that the robe soon weighed double its original weight. Several of the kids around him complained about the weather.

“First years this way!” a booming voice called out over their heads. As Kakashi turned there was a big man, towering over the crowd of students, taller than any adult Kakashi knew. He was double Kakashi’s size, but as he smiled at the comparatively tiny first years that were quickly assembling around him with big and curious eyes, his lips spread into a kind smile. Rain was glistening on pinkish cheeks.

“That’s Hagrid,” Neville whispered to him, “the gamekeeper.” His eyes were following the two girls who quickly ran to Hagrid.

Kakashi remembered that name. Harry had mentioned it before. The man who had first told him about the wizarding world. Before Kakashi could ask anything else about him – for example why he was so huge – Neville steered him in a different direction.

They followed the big crowd of students from the station platform to a few carriages. Kakashi’s feet made squishy noises every time he pulled the soles out of the mud.

As Kakashi raised his head to look for the horses, he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Uh…” Neville stood next to him, wringing his hands nervously as if waiting for Kakashi to say something. “What is it?”

“What are those?” Kakashi asked with big round eyes.

There in front of the carriages were creatures the like Kakashi had never seen before. He had by now seen his fair share of magical creatures and races – A few of these oddities were sold in the shops in Diagon Alley, and he had read about some of them in his Care for Magical Creatures book, and of course, there were even magical humanoid beings like the goblins of Gringotts. But these horses…They were the most unique creatures he had seen yet.

They had skeletal bodies with almost translucent skin, reminding him uncomfortably of the Dementors. If he’d been told, those were the wraiths’ mounts, he would have easily believed it, but that was where the similarities ended. Their heads looked reptilian-like that of a dragon. Then one of them chomped at the bit, shook its head, and spread a set of wide bat-like wings.

Was it dangerous? For a moment he considered if that was why he felt that strong urge to flee, but as he continued scrutinizing the winged horses, he felt no danger from them.

“You can see them?” Neville whispered with big eyes. He was a little pale around the nose, as he was clearly trying to avoid looking at the horses.

Kakashi glanced at him. “Of course, I can see them.” His brows furrowed suspiciously. “You can’t?”

“No, I can see them too,” Neville started, “but—"

“Charlie!”

Kakashi was pushed half a step forward, when Ron shoved into him from behind, putting a hand around his shoulders. “Is it true you fought the Dementor?” he asked leaning on Kakashi.

“News spread quickly I see,” Kakashi grumbled looking one last time at Neville but the boy was clearly not going to talk now. Then he turned to the redhead. “Who told you?”

“Two first years,” Ron waved behind himself towards the station. “That cut looks nasty. You should have that checked out.”

Kakashi didn’t see what the fuzz was about. It barely even bled. It was long, reaching from his ear almost to his chin, but it was just a scratch.

“That was pretty cool,” Ron grinned. “Harry said, you’re a Hufflepuff, but they should’ve put you into Gryffindor.”

“How did you do it?” Harry stood behind Ron, Hermione at his side. He looked ruffled and pale. His hands were in his pockets and he was slouching. It was supposedly meant to look casual, but it was clear that the Dementors had left Harry a bit frazzled. “How did you fight them?”

Kakashi shrugged. “I tried to stab one of them, but I can’t recommend that. It didn’t do anything.” He tried not to remember the helpless feeling of his knife cutting through wispy cloth and dead skin, while screams of the past terrorized his mind. He shook his head. “Neville said you had a teacher protecting you. How did he do it?”

Harry shrugged, embarrassedly avoiding Kakashi’s gaze. Right, he’d fallen unconscious, and likely not seen it. Kakashi glanced at Hermione, who was already preparing to answer.

“He used a spell called Expecto Patronum.” Her brows furrowed skeptically. “But I’ve never heard of it. It must be very advanced. He produced a sort of silver haze that repelled the dementor.” She shuddered as she called the creature by name.

Kakashi nodded, even though her explanation didn’t really help him.

“Should we get on?” Ron asked, apparently getting impatient. He opened the door to the closest carriage. At least it had a roof that would protect them from the rain. “Come on, I’m hungry, and I don’t want to miss the sorting ceremony again.”

“We’re not going to miss the sorting ceremony,” Hermione argued, as she climbed into the carriage. “And you just care for the food anyway.”

“So, what about the horses?” Kakashi turned back to Neville following after him into the carriage.

“What horses?” Harry asked, who followed after Kakashi.

Ron who came in last demonstratively turned toward the horses. “There are no horses,” he said with certainty, looking right at them, then he pulled the door shut.

Kakashi looked at him in confusion. As he glanced at Neville, the boy shrugged.

“I’m the only one who can see them. I thought I just imagined it…”

Kakashi didn’t ask again. Evidently, Neville couldn’t answer his many unspoken questions. As the stagecoach started moving, Kakashi scooted a bit to the side, so Ron could sit next to him. The boy didn’t have his rat with him. He still smelled a bit of it, but the scent wasn’t very strong, and the rain had mostly washed it away. Hermione didn’t have her tomcat either.

“Where is your cat?” he asked the girl.

“Ahm…” she looked a little embarrassed. “I don’t actually know. But the staff is taking care of it. They bring the pets right to the dorms. Can’t bring them to the feast, after all.”

The rat would be in the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory then. If they weren’t supposed to bring their pets to the Great Hall or to class, the rat would likely spend most of its time in the Gryffindor tower. Kakashi had read a bit about the castle. That made his task a bit more complicated. He was a Hufflepuff after all, and from what he had read, pupils weren’t allowed into the dormitories and common rooms of the other houses.

His thoughts ground to a sudden halt, as he felt a familiar cold. Leaning over Ron, he looked out of the window. It was dark by now, and he couldn’t see much outside.

“What are you doing?” Ron asked annoyed, pushing him away though he wasn’t rude about it.

“It’s getting colder again,” Kakashi replied.

Ron scowled. “What do you mean? Then stay away from the door. There’s a draft.”

“He means the Dementors, Ron,” Hermione explained to her friend, “but I don’t feel anything.”

Harry had visibly paled at the mention of the wraiths. He leaned into his seat, refusing to look out of the window. He wouldn’t have seen anything anyway. Ron was now pressing his nose against it, making it impossible to see past his ginger head.

“You’re right,” Ron finally announced. “There! They are patrolling at the gate.”

Kakashi heard whispers in his head again. He heard Rin’s screams, and Obito’s final words and the villagers insulting his father. The voices were oddly muffled, though. He could barely make sense of the words. Barely recognized the voices. It was different from before. In the train, he had heard the words crystal clear, now it was more like an afterthought.

He pulled Ron back by his shoulder. The boy complained with a groan but didn’t struggle against Kakashi.

There they were. As Ron had said. Two Dementors floated on both sides of the gate they were about to enter through. They didn’t seem to care for the carriages rolling past them. Kakashi felt a little sick as he watched them.

Azkaban’s guards…patrolling the school grounds. He had known of course. The ministry expected Sirius to hunt for Harry. They were expecting him here, so of course, they had prepared… It still hadn’t quite clicked in Kakashi until now. These wretched creatures would be patrolling the school grounds. He felt suddenly faint at the idea, that he’d have to tolerate them so close for more than just a few days. They would likely stay until they had caught the escaped convict…And Sirius was running right into them. Only that he wouldn’t be protected by castle walls. Did he even stand a chance?

Distracted by his own thoughts, there was something else he noticed only a while later. The gates… Ron had called them that, but they were hardly deserving of the name. It was barely more than a hole in an old and ruined wall, half fenced off. Big yellow and orange signs stood crookedly around the road warning of danger and risk of collapse. A big red round sign said stop in bold letters.

What was going on? But as he turned around, none of the other teenagers noticed anything. Or at least they didn’t react to the signs.

Kakashi had enough experience that he noticed a genjutsu, even if it wasn’t created by chakra. This was an illusion, nonetheless. He just knew it. As his gaze traveled up the path further ahead past the Dementors and the other carriages in front of them, he could barely make out the castle against the dark and cloudy sky and the heavy rain.

He had read about Hogwarts…He had even seen images in his books, but what he now saw before him wasn’t the magnificent castle he had expected. It was a ruin. Old stone walls and collapsed towers, nature already taking over the premises and the building.

His short burst of chakra to dispel the genjutsu didn’t work. So, he closed his right eye and opened the Sharingan. Obito’s eye could see through illusions. As he looked at the ruin again, it didn’t quite work. What he saw was still the same ruin. His Sharingan wasn’t able to recognize magical illusions, but the eye was already used to detecting the odd transient energy that he had started to associate with magic. And so, behind the image of the ruin, he could clearly see the shape of the castle outlined in magical energy. It was buzzing with magic. So much so, it was almost blinding to the Sharingan.

It had to be a ward or a barrier, he realized. Something to keep muggles away. His strong urge to turn around likely resulted from the same, as he hadn’t found anything else that might have set his instincts off.

Lost in his own calculating thoughts, Kakashi almost missed as they left the gate and the Dementors behind. Kakashi only push away from the window and settled back into his seat, when the Dementors were already so far away, that Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

Chapter Text

“You fainted Potter? You actually fainted?”

The blond boy was back. He elbowed his way up the stairs to the castle, pushing past Hermione, until he stood in front of Harry. Kakashi’s nose scrunched in annoyance. He had enough trouble trying to walk these stairs, when – despite them evidently being perfectly intact – he didn’t see them right. He constantly thought parts of them were broken away and he was stepping into nothing, and the moment he put his foot there, the step suddenly appeared under him.

Ron pushed Draco away. Kakashi didn’t really have the energy to concentrate on their battle. With his Sharingan, he focused on the path ahead and the stairs below him.

He had to find a way around those wards, he knew. He couldn’t use the Sharingan all day every day just to navigate the castle. Never mind that even the Sharingan was not giving him a clear image. He could see the energy of the castle, but the magic was buzzing in the air all around him. The lines of the walls and ground were fuzzy and blurred at best. He was wading through a mist of bright energy. He was also getting a headache from it. Sensory overload.

A strong whiff of wet dog made him turn back to the conversation in front of him. Curiously, he looked at the adult who had scared the Malfoy and his goons away.

The man looked pale and sickly. He was quite tall. Light brown hair was already greying a little at the sides. He looked older than he was, Kakashi thought, but he couldn’t guess his age. Maybe mid-to-late-thirties, he guessed. He had a thin mustache, but it barely distracted from the long scars cutting across his face.

Something about his scent gave Kakashi goosebumps. He couldn’t place it. The scent of wet dog was strong. It smelled wild and natural, also dangerous. That was what made Kakashi wonder. He liked dogs. Normally, smelling dogs wouldn’t raise his hackles like that. Was this man an Animagus too? Or had he just cuddled up with a very big wet dog?

The man must have come from one of the carriages. His eyes traveled from Harry to Ron and Hermione and then briefly rested on Kakashi and Neville.

“You must be the boy I heard about?” he addressed Kakashi.

Kakashi had no idea what the man might have heard about him.

“I was informed you wrestled with a dementor,” he added with a smile that was halfway between amusement, reproach, and discontent. His eyes focused on the cut on Kakashi’s face. “That’s a nasty cut.”

“It’s nothing,” Kakashi insisted for the third time.

“Let me be the judge of that,” the professor said.

“They also hurt his neck,” Neville interrupted the conversation. He raised his hand as if to pull down Kakashi’s collar to expose the frostbite and the light bruise that had formed there, but then his fingers only hovered undecidedly in the air.

The adult’s eyes flashed angrily. He grimaced slightly. “I see. I will let Poppy know. What’s your name?”

“Major,” Kakashi answered a bit disgruntled. “Charlie.”

**

Harry watched Charlie.

Just as they were about to enter the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall, the headteacher of Gryffindor, had caught up to them and beckoned Harry, Hermione, and Charlie to follow her. Harry already knew the way to her office, but it was all new for Charlie. Harry wondered if that was the reason, he was so distracted.

His steps seemed stilted and one time he tripped seemingly over nothing. Harry felt a bit of amusement, as he watched the normally so cool Charlie stumble along.

McGonagall threw Charlie a strict glance. “Lift your feet up, Mr. Major,” she said.

Charlie blinked at her oddly, then he nodded in a way that almost half a bow. “Yes, Ma’am.” It got a little better after that, but Charlie still walked stiffly. Harry noted that he was almost exactly following in McGonagall’s footsteps. Was that just coincidence?

He wondered if it might have to do with the dementors. Maybe like him, Charlie was still a little out of it after the encounter. Harry hoped that was it, even if it was maybe a little mean. It bugged him, that he was the only one who had been affected by the dementors.

“I was informed,” McGonagall started, as she arrived in her office, “that there was an incident on the train.” She said, then she briefly looked at Charlie. “Mr. Major, normally your head of house would take care of this. However, as Professor Lupin only just informed me of what had happened, I thought it best to talk to all of you together.”

Charlie sniffed the air, then he nodded. As he didn’t even know Professor Sprout – his head of house – Harry doubted he much cared about that.

At that moment, the door opened, and Madam Pomfrey entered.

Harry felt a little embarrassed then. Not only that he had fallen unconscious while everybody else had been fine, but now they even called the school nurse for this! He blushed.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “Really, I don’t need anything.”

Madam Pomfrey didn’t listen to him. Instead, she walked over to him and gave him a sharp look. “Have you done something dangerous again?” she asked as if it was ever his fault, whenever he got injured.

The last time he’d spent a lengthy amount of time in her hospital wing, all the bones were gone from his arm. And that hadn’t been his fault. It hadn’t been his fault that the Bludger had been manipulated to hunt him down until it broke his arm. And it hadn’t been his fault either that Gilderoy Lockhart had then, in a failed attempt to heal him, hexed the bones away completely. The man was the most incompetent teacher Harry ever had. He almost preferred Quirrel to him – and Quirrel had Voldemort occupying the back of his head and had been plotting Voldemort’s return and Harry’s murder all year.

“It was a Dementor, Poppy.” At least Professor McGonagall didn’t make it sound as if it was Harry’s fault.

The two women exchanged a dark look.

“Setting Dementors around a school,” Madam Pomfrey muttered disapprovingly. “He won’t be the last one who collapses. Yes, he’s all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate—”

A fuse snapped in Harry’s head. “Delicate? I’m not delicate!”

“Of course not,” Madam Pomfrey relented immediately.

As she took his pulse, her eyes traveled to the other two teenagers in the room. Hermione was obviously fine. She hadn’t been affected by the dementors the way Harry had. Charlie, however… Why she hadn’t started with him, Harry could only guess. Of course, it had to do with who he was… Harry Potter. Harry didn’t even suspect favoritism in this case. More the opposite. After spending just two years in Hogwarts, Harry had proven himself so prone to injury, that Madam Pomfrey had checked in with him first without even thinking about it. It should make him feel sour, he thought, but instead, he only felt tired.

“Does he need anything?” Professor McGonagall asked in a crisp voice. “Bedrest? Should he spend tonight in the hospital wing?”

That really went too far! No wonder Draco had made fun of him…He’d never live that down if he ended up a whole night in the hospital wing.

“I’m fine!”

“He should at least have some chocolate,” Madam Pomfrey suggested.

“I did. We all had. Professor Lupin gave some to all of us.” Harry answered immediately. Then, however, his eyes traveled to Charlie. Not to all of us, he remembered. “I mean, to Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and me, but not to Charlie.” Then he realized that it sounded as if Lupin had purposefully neglected the boy. “Because he wasn’t with us.”

Worried, Madam Pomfrey turned to the other boy. About time, Harry thought. Charlie was at least injured. The cut on his face might even leave a bit of a scar, he thought. He hadn’t seen the neck yet, but Neville had mentioned that he was injured there too. It was hidden under his collar though. Curiously, Harry watched what the nurse would do.

“I don’t like sweet things,” Charlie blurted out immediately, without a moment’s hesitation, as if he feared, Madam Pomfrey would immediately shove a bar of chocolate between his teeth otherwise.

Harry’s eyes bulged a little in astonishment. What teenager didn’t like sweet things? Never mind, that Harry knew for a fact that it was a lie, as Charlie had enjoyed the ice cream he had switched out from under Harry’s nose on their first visit to Diagon Alley. He couldn’t figure out, why he would lie, though.

Madam Pomfrey frowned disapprovingly. There was an almost inaudible snort from Professor McGonagall.

The nurse prodded the skin around the cut on Charlie’s face, then she flicked her wand. “Episkey.” The wound closed instantly, leaving neither a scar nor even reddened skin behind. “That would be that.” Madam Pomfrey complimented herself, then she continued to take Charlie’s pulse. She hummed a little.

“Neville said he had a neck injury,” Hermione said when Madam Pomfrey was about to move away from Charlie.

The nurse looked up, then she nodded sharply. “Thanks for informing me.” She gave Charlie a strict glare. “Why didn’t you tell me there was another injury?” She reprimanded, as she slid her finger under his collar to pull it down. “How am I supposed to help you if—”

Her voice died immediately. Hermione who sat on Charlie’s other side gasped. Harry strained his neck to look past Madam Pomfrey’s frame and get a clear view of Charlie’s injury.

Shocked, he was left without words, however, Madam Pomfrey found her voice again soon enough: “How dare these wretched creatures, attacking a student like that! Dumbledore has to learn about this!” She seethed, her shoulders shaking angrily. “And the minister!”

“Granted,” Charlie said leisurely, “I attacked first.”

“Why would you do such a stupid thing, boy,” Madam Pomfrey hissed. But then she shook her head. “But that is not the point. They shouldn’t have attacked either way. What threat were you to them, hm? You’re just a child and they…they shouldn’t be here in the first place.”

Charlie visibly bristled at being called a child.

Madam Pomfrey made half a step back, to brandish her wand and heal the injury. In doing so, for just a moment, she gave everybody in the room a clear view over the whole extend of the bruises.

In dark blue, two spindly thin fingers and a thumb were starkly visible against pale skin. One spot where the creature’s index finger must have dug into his skin below his jaw was almost black. Less severe bruising of the other four fingers reached almost down to his collar bone. Rough red patches marked where frost had burned his skin.

With Madam Pomfrey’s spells both the burns and the bruises faded completely in a matter of seconds. Experimentally, Charlie rubbed the skin over his Adam’s apple. He didn’t show any reaction that he had been in pain or that he felt any relief.

“Thanks,” he said. Though it didn’t sound insincere, his gratitude seemed very formal.

“Otherwise, you seem fine,” Madam Pomfrey said after another short examination. “I would really prefer for you to eat some chocolate,” she added with a slightly amused glint in her eyes, “but as long as you eat well during the banquet, you should be fine.”

Despite Charlie clearly being worse injured, McGonagall didn’t even ask about bed rest. A small part of Harry considered that she just didn’t want him to miss his very first start of term feast. They had likely already missed the sorting – which was a shame, really. However, mostly, Harry just felt embarrassed, that apparently the teachers thought him more fragile than Charlie. The other boy had been injured, and yet, they seemed confident that he’d be fine, but Harry was the one who McGonagall had considered sending to the hospital wing for the night. It was ridiculous!

After being convinced, that Harry and Charlie were fine, Professor McGonagall sent the two boys to wait outside. Harry was curious, what she wanted to talk about with Hermione, but when the door fell shut behind them, he couldn’t hear a single word from inside.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Harry asked although he was sure, Charlie had no clue. He barely knew Hermione and had only just met Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall.

Evidently, it had nothing to do with Madam Pomfrey, as she left the office only shortly after them, muttering about having to talk to the headmaster about the dementors.

“Does she have a cat?”

Harry startled at the question. What kind of benign question was that?

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Charlie shrugged. “I thought it smelled of cat inside.”

Harry’s brow furrowed a little. He sniffed the air, but of course, he didn’t smell anything, and he wasn’t even in the office anymore. “I didn’t notice anything,” he said.

Charlie looked at him expectantly, waiting for a reply.

“Not that I know of,” Harry added. Then he grinned. “Mr. Filch, the caretaker has a cat though.” But what would Filch’s cat do in Professor McGonagall’s office?

Charlie seemed disappointed at his answer. “I thought she might be an Animagus.”

The word was foreign to Harry. He shrugged. “No idea what that is.”

Charlie looked disapproving but he didn’t comment on Harry’s lack of knowledge. And wasn’t that something? Charlie had been basically illiterate about the magical world until a few weeks ago. And now he knew words, Harry didn’t.

Harry gleefully remembered the time Charlie had stumbled on the corridor. At least he wasn’t perfect. AH! He really needed Hermione to show him up in class.

They waited a short while in silence, then something else occurred to Harry. He felt shy and uncertain as he contemplated Charlie. Should he ask? If he wanted to, he should do it now, before Hermione came back.

“What is it?” Charlie asked turning to him fully. He had both eyebrows raised questioningly.

Harry hesitated. “When the dementor attacked you, did you…” he didn’t know how to phrase it. In all honesty, there were dozens of ways to end that sentence. Did Charlie hear the voices? Did he feel the dread? Did he feel weak or even fall unconscious? Did he hear the woman scream? But ultimately Harry didn’t finish the sentence at all. He blushed shamefully.

“Did I…,” Charlie repeated, “faint?” There was a tiny smirk around his lips. Harry felt immediately and terribly ashamed. By now, Charlie must have heard the story of Harry’s weakness surely half a dozen times. Harry immediately regretted even asking the question.

“Forget about it,” he mumbled.

“Yes, I did.” Charlie’s answer was like a whisper. Harry’s head snapped up to stare at him. “Just for a few seconds, it seems,” Charlie added, then he sighed. “But yes, I did lose consciousness.”

Harry’s mouth felt dry. He had to know!

“Did you hear it too?” he asked. Charlie paled visibly. His gaze was locked with Harry’s. There was something haunted behind brown eyes. He heard it too, Harry was certain. “The scream of that woman?”

Confusion replaced the dread on Charlie’s face. “I heard no woman scream,” he said simply. He turned away from Harry when at that moment, the door opened to reveal a grinning and giddy Hermione. Professor McGonagall followed behind her.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked partially because he was interested but more so to distract himself from the memories of the screaming woman and the disappointment that Charlie hadn’t heard her.

“It was just something about my Electives. I fear we’ve missed the Sorting.”

Harry couldn’t care less about the Sorting. He glanced at Charlie. He was sorry, the other boy had to miss it. Even though he was already sorted, it was still his first time. Charlie barely even noticed him, though. Instead, he has fully concentrated on his steps again. Harry was somewhat confused, that he didn’t stare at all the living and moving paintings and pieces of armor. He remembered that had been the most fascinating thing for him in his first year. Charlie didn’t even seem to see them.

He didn’t even stop to marvel at the bewitched ceiling of the Great Hall when they entered. Thinking he might have missed it, Harry tapped Charlie on the shoulder.

“Look up there,” Harry said, pointing upwards at the high ceiling. Candles floated over their heads, but above that, at the stone ceiling, there was the endless view of the evening sky. It was cloudy and dark, but every now and then, thunder rolled across the whole length of it and illuminated the whole hall in a bright flash of light.

“What about it? I don’t see anything,” Charlie asked somewhat unimpressed.

Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione, who only shrugged.

“Maybe I should lend you my glasses someday, so you can see the ceiling,” Harry joked, but Charlie didn’t laugh. “Hufflepuff table is the one over there.”

He pointed to the table in question. Then he sat down next to Ron. The Weasley leaned back, and half turned to Charlie.

“Don’t worry, Charlie. Outside of events like this, you can sit with the cool kids,” he laughed.

“Don’t be mean!” Hermione admonished, slapping the back of his head lightly.

“What?” Ron whined. “Which house won the House Cup twice in a row, again?” He winked at Harry.

“And we have to thank our great savior Ronald Weasley for it!” the twins exclaimed from across the table.

“Oh, what would we do if it weren’t for the grandmaster’s unfaltering skill in chess?” Fred (or maybe George) cried out mockingly.

“Oh, what would we do if it weren’t for his lousy wand and peerless babysitting skills?” the other twin yelled to the stormy ceiling.

Ron blushed embarrassed.

“There wasn’t a day,” Ginny whispered at Harry leaning towards him, “that he wouldn’t remind us, how he got us the House Cup with his 200 points last year.”

**

“You must be Charlie,” a boy greeted him the moment Kakashi edged in on the table full of students with yellow and black ties. “I’m Cedric Diggory.” He reached out to shake Kakashi’s hand.

Kakashi first stared at the offered hand, then at the boy attached to it, as he tentatively shook it. Cedric Diggory was a tall and handsome teenager with dark hair and grey eyes. He looked strong. Kakashi noted the defined musculature of an athlete. Cedric had an open and good-natured laugh on his face.

“Professor Sprout told us you’d join our house this year.” As soon as Kakashi took his hand, Cedric grabbed it tightly and gave it a decisive shake, before letting go. “She’s the head of our house.” He nodded at the teacher’s table up front. “The witch at the right. With the grey curls. She teaches Herbology, but you’ll learn all about that later. For now, I’m here to welcome you.”

A bit overwhelmed, Kakashi stared at the taller boy. He was…what 15, 16? Maybe 17, but that might also just be his strong build.

“You’re crushing the kid with attention,” a girl warned. She leaned back from her bench at the table to nudge Cedric in the thigh. “He looks completely overwhelmed.”

Cedric looked almost affronted at that. “I’m not crushing anybody. He’s fine!” He gestured at Kakashi, but then finally noticed, that Kakashi was indeed overwhelmed by the forwardness. “Oh, right…I’m sorry, I’m a fifth-year-prefect for Huff…” His voice trailed off as he smoothed down his robes to show off the absent prefect sign. Embarrassed he blushed. “Uh…Where did I put that thing.”

“I told you to put it on and keep it on,” the girl laughed, making Cedric turn even redder. “I’m Doris, by the way.” She waved at Kakashi with a smile. There was a small gap between her front teeth. Her skin was light brown and her hair black and wavy. “I’m the other prefect. What Cedric meant to say was that if you have any questions, please feel free to ask us anything.”

“Yes,” Cedric grumbled still distracted with searching his pockets for the prefect insignia.

“It’s pinned to your chest on the left side. On your shirt under the cloak,” Kakashi told him because he could clearly see the shape of it bulging through the cloth.

Surprised Cedric slapped his hand over his heart to feel the insignia. “Ah…How did you…?” He started with a quizzical frown but was soon interrupted by Doris’ laughter. “I’m still getting used to it,” the boy scowled at his friend.

“Yes, you are,” she agreed. “But that’s not the reason. You put it there because you didn’t want everybody to ask about it. And then you forgot.”

Kakashi used that to deduce what kind of boy Cedric was. While Percy Weasley had carried his prefect-insignia proudly, Cedric was humble about it, almost ashamed to show it off. Now, the boy gave a tired sigh, as he put a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Let’s introduce you to your classmates.”

He steered Kakashi down the table. Kakashi first bristled at the uninvited contact, but he was now used to it enough, that he could abide it without commenting or evading it. Thankfully, Cedric didn’t leave his hand there for long. Instead, as they went together, he took the prefect batch from his shirt and moved it to the front of his school robes.

“This is really a unique situation. You’re completely new in the magical world, right?” Cedric looked a bit troubled as he asked.

“Relatively new, yes,” Kakashi agreed. After all, he had now known about it for a month, so he wasn’t new anymore. During missions, Kakashi was trained to get used to new situations in a matter of hours or even minutes. In comparison, he now had already a month to get used to this new world. Even though it was a bit more complicated than his regular mission, a month still felt like a long time to get used to a new environment.

Carefully, Kakashi edged his way forward along with the table. He followed Cedric’s lead, hoping the boy wouldn’t lead him against a wall. Curiously enough, he could see the people around him, and even the furniture like the long tables were visible, however, the whole castle was still just a ruin to him, despite clearly not being that. It seemed that he got slowly used to seeing the magic and forming it into solid structures in his mind, but he hoped as soon as he was sitting, he could get a quiet moment to try and find a way against these muggle-repelling charms. It was really inconvenient.

“I saw you enter with Harry Potter,” Cedric continued unperturbed. “That’s good if you already met him. Did he help you with some stuff?”

Kakashi nodded.

“Very good. So not completely new after all. And Potter was a lucky draw, I guess.” Cedric’s shoulders hung a little. “I’m not trying to scare you off or anything,” he added with a chuckle, “but there are probably a few students that won’t treat you with decency. If you get trouble from anybody, tell me or Doris and we’ll deal with it.”

“Thanks,” Kakashi said, knowing that Cedric probably spoke of the likes of Draco Malfoy. Kakashi didn’t think he’d take the prefect up on his offer, though. There was no need to. He could deal with a few kids by himself.

“Great! Here we are.”

They had reached the front of the table. A couple of thirteen-year-old boys and girls looked at Kakashi curiously, as he came closer. Some also looked at Cedric and the badge he now wore openly on his chest.

“Cedric,” a blond girl cried out to the prefect. “Congratulations! That’s well deserved, we knew you’d make it.”

A sing-song of agreement and congratulations traveled through the assembled kids until Cedric raised his hands defensively. “Thank you, but that’s enough.”

The blond girl’s eyes shifted from Cedric to Kakashi. “And who’s that?”

“This is Charlie. He’ll join our house for his third year.” Cedric introduced him calmly, thankfully without telling Charlie’s entire life’s journey. He put his hand on Kakashi’s shoulder again, this time to point him to the free spot where a curly-haired boy shifted a bit to the side to make enough room for Kakashi. “Please be nice to him. Ernie,” he looked at one of the boys, “he has almost the exact same schedule you have. Can you help him around during the first few days?”

“Sure,” the boy nodded, scrutinizing Kakashi. Ernie was a somewhat stout boy with dirty blond hair. “I can take care of him, don’t worry Cedric.”

“Awesome.” Cedric clapped his hands. “Then I’ll leave you be. Get to know each other. Doris and I will pick you all up after the feast. The sixth-year prefects will take care of the first years, while we focus on Charlie here.” For the third time now, he clamped a hand down on Kakashi’s shoulder, even though Kakashi was already sitting. Kakashi was getting a bit impatient. He really just wanted a moment to himself to probe the wards with his chakra and see if he could find a way around them. Not being able to clearly see the room around himself was a bit nauseating even if he slowly got used to it.

“Thanks,” Kakashi said unhappily, “but that really isn’t necessary. I’m sure…” What was the name again? “Ernie here can explain everything.”

“Indeed, I can,” the boy said proudly. He sat directly across from Kakashi and grinned confidently at him, though the curiosity was only thinly hidden in his eyes. “Don’t bother, Cedric. We’ll deal with everything. Charlie’s one of us now, after all.” He briefly flashed a grin up at Cedric, but Cedric only looked back evenly.

“I don’t doubt it, Ernie, but I’ll be back after the feast, anyway. Got a job to do.” He waved at all of them. “Enjoy the meal.” And then he was off.

Kakashi wished Cedric back immediately. The second Cedric was out of earshot, the girl next to Ernie started asking a dozen questions.

“Which school did you go to before? Were you taught by your parents or did you transfer from somewhere else? Is this really your first day?” She had brown hair that she wore in a long plait down her back. “Why weren’t you sorted with the first-years? Did you already see the ghosts? Wait, let me introduce you to the Fat Friar.”

Kakashi only stared at her. Then Ernie nudged her in the side with his elbow. “Take a breath, Susan. Give him a chance to reply at least.” Expectant eyes turned at Kakashi.

At first, Kakashi was grateful that Ernie had stopped the flow of questions, but now he was expected to say something. Ernie wasn’t the only one waiting for an answer. The girl next to him, Susan, also stared at Kakashi, looking a little flustered as if she was holding her breath. The other third years seemed curious as well.

Thankfully at that moment, an elderly man from the teacher’s table stood up to speak. Kakashi wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Shh,” a blond girl next to Kakashi shushed them. “Dumbledore is about to speak.”

Dumbledore? So, this was the headmaster he had heard so much about.

Chapter Text

“Welcome!” Dumbledore’s voice rose over the heads of the students drowning out the few conversations that hadn’t stopped the moment the headmaster stood up. All heads turned to him. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…”

Kakashi got stuck on the word ‘befuddled’. Befuddled? What an odd word.

“As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business.” The old man seemed troubled as he explained the situation. Apparently, if Dumbledore was to be believed, the Azkaban guards were stationed at every entrance. Therefore, Dumbledore announced, it was forbidden for students to leave school grounds without permission. “Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises – or even Invisibility Cloaks.”

Kakashi’s eyes narrowed at the odd inclusion. It seemed so specific and at the same time sounded as if Dumbledore had added it as an afterthought as if thinking about a specific student. Surely, if there was such a thing as an Invisibility Cloak, it had to be rare. Suspiciously, Kakashi looked around himself, sniffing the air. But he didn’t sense anybody close by and hiding in invisibility.

“It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I, therefore, warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors.” Dumbledore spoke with such severity in his voice, that it was clear, these creatures were a threat that couldn’t be dealt with by students.

Worriedly, Kakashi looked around the table. The age of these kids ranged from eleven to 17, he knew. The youngest were genin age and the oldest were already adults. If even they weren’t expected to be able to deal with these Dementors, was there a way to fight them at all? With a shudder, Kakashi remembered the way his kunai had uselessly cut through wispy cloth and skin. Cutting them and even later kicking and overpowering them with sheer physical strength hadn’t done anything to harm them and scare them off. Kakashi knew with certainty that the only reason they had turned away after he had kicked the Dementor was that they already knew Sirius wasn’t hiding in his compartment. He hadn’t scared them off, they had simply had no reason to keep attacking him. That was troublesome…An opponent he didn’t know how to fight was rare. He was used to fighting opponents with tricky ninjutsu, but at least they were always mortal humans. The shinobis’ tricks always relied on chakra, and he had ways to understand that. These creatures were entirely foreign to him…

Wait… Hadn’t Neville mentioned that a teacher had stopped the Dementor coming into Harry’s compartment? How had he done it? Kakashi could only guess that it was a sort of magic, that he couldn’t use anyway, but if he knew how to fight a Dementor with magic, maybe he could figure out how to fight it without magic too. His eyes searched for the tired-looking teacher with the scars on his face. The one who’d been in Harry’s wagon and who Kakashi had only seen very briefly at the entrance to the castle. How had this professor stopped the Dementors? If Kakashi wanted to help Sirius, he should be prepared to handle them. These creatures were too much of an unknown for Kakashi to just ignore.

“On a happier note,” Dumbledore continued after a short pause, “I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.”

Kakashi droned out then. He didn’t know any of the teachers, so he didn’t really care which ones were new. Instead, he used the short reprieve before his new classmates would start attacking him with questions again, to try and find a way through the Hogwarts wards.

He didn’t fancy spending more than a few hours in a castle he couldn’t see. He was getting a headache having to concentrate all the time on the wispy magical structures around him, to guess where exactly walls, ceiling, floor, and furniture were. Even worse was the fact, that he constantly had to use his Sharingan to see anything at all, even as his chakra got more and more attuned to the magic around him. It was draining him too quickly, and he knew he had to find a solution soon or spend the next few weeks in a coma due to chakra exhaustion – And how would he explain that to the medical witch who had treated his neck earlier?

Tentatively, Kakashi started probing the walls and ground with his chakra. This was difficult. In Diagon Alley and Kings Cross, there was a plain wall and a single magical core hiding a passage to the magical world. Here, the walls of the castle were overflowing with magic and he was right in the middle of it, trying to find one specific sort of magic. His problem wasn’t that he had trouble finding a magical core, but rather that he was in a cloud of magic, trying to find that one particular magical raindrop that turned the whole cloud invisible to him.

As Kakashi spread his chakra over the walls and ground, he wasted even more of it than he could afford. Hopefully, he’d be able to catch a few good hours of sleep that night, or he’d be dead on his feet tomorrow.

Then, he was distracted by sudden applause. He almost flinched in surprise, as the kids all around him started clapping. Looking to the front, to see what had the students so excited, he saw that it wasn’t the headmaster at all. Instead, the scarred teacher that had helped Harry on the Hogwarts Express stood awkwardly from his seat at the teachers’ table waving into the crowd.

Kakashi concentrated back on probing the magic around him. He needed a better method than just searching blindly. There was still this odd feeling of wanting to turn away – as if his instincts were warning him of some unknown hidden danger. Kakashi was reasonably certain, that that too was part of the wards protecting the castle. Latching onto a feeling was easier than searching for something he didn’t know. He just hoped that the wards were connected, so he could make his way from one to the other.

In fact, to his surprise, it was surprisingly easy to find the bit of magic that made him want to leave the castle. His chakra immediately latched onto it—

And then something slapped it away. Like a whip or a snake’s tail…It dislodged his chakra. A defense mechanism? Or had he been—

Kakashi quickly retreated.

“…our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end—” upfront, Dumbledore suddenly stopped in his speech. The headmaster’s eyes narrowed behind half-moon glasses and roamed over the students’ heads. He must have felt the intrusion on his wards.

Kakashi immediately knew he had messed up. Carefully he pulled all his chakra back into himself. With his Sharingan he could see the magic shift and move around him, trying to find something, searching for the intrusion, that wasn’t there anymore.

Dumbledore coughed slightly. “Professor Kettleburn retired to enjoy more of his remaining limbs,” the principal joked in front of the whole school, but his magic was still visibly searching for the intruder. Kakashi held his breath. “However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties.”

Again, applause rose in the Great Hall. This time it was louder than before. Some students even cheered. Clearly, Professor Hagrid was already beloved by many, though Kakashi noted long faces at the Slytherin house table. Kakashi too joined in on the applause this time, if only to look inconspicuous.

If Dumbledore had felt the attempted manipulation of his wards, it was possible that he already suspected Kakashi…

And that meant, as Dumbledore finally ended his speech, before declaring the banquet open, that Kakashi should probably try to fit in with his new classmates. Even as the food appeared out of nowhere on the table, it was clear that the other Hufflepuffs were all too eager to skip the meal to ask him questions. The fact that they had waited for Dumbledore’s speech to finish before unleashing their curiosity spoke volumes of their respect for the headmaster.

“So, where did you transfer from?” the same girl from before repeated her first question.

Kakashi ducked his head. In a vain attempt to avoid the questions he reached out for the food on the table. He wasn’t comfortable being the center of attention, and he wasn’t eager to tell Charlie’s story again. Even more so, Kakashi wasn’t looking forward to the barrage of questions that would undoubtedly follow once he had answered the first few. Although he wasn’t hungry, he pulled a bowl of beans and a kidney pie close. It was the closest in reach and he was not squeamish as to what he wanted to eat as long as it was a good excuse not to answer.

Of course, it didn’t help. Even as he put a portion on his plate and lifted his cutlery, the other kids were still staring at him curiously.

“I didn’t transfer,” he replied vaguely. He thought about adding further information when the girl interrupted him.

“What do you mean you didn’t transfer?”

“Susan, you didn’t even give him time to explain!” another girl complained. She had straight black hair and sat next to Susan. As she spoke, she gave Susan a friendly kick under the table, that would’ve gone unnoticed to anybody else – but not to Kakashi.

“There’s not much to explain,” Kakashi said. “I didn’t go to a school before. The ministry found out this summer and invited me to Hogwarts. I was sorted in the ministry.” With that he shoveled a big portion of pie into his mouth – big enough that he would need a few minutes to chew and swallow it all, giving himself ample excuse not to continue the conversation.

Apparently, the others didn’t see it like that. The boy next to him with the curly dark hair frowned confused. “Then you’re from a wizarding family? They taught you?”

Kakashi shook his head to both questions. It was curious, he thought. In some way, shape, or form only a few minutes after meeting somebody, there would always be a question about his family status. Muggleborn, half-blood or pureblood…He remembered what Neville had told him. Some thought purebloods were superior. These kids here didn’t seem to belong to that group of people, as none of them seemed all that interested in his blood status apart from wanting to know who had taught him before.

“So, you weren’t taught by anybody?” Susan asked. This girl couldn’t stay quiet for longer than a few minutes.

Kakashi shook his head. This time he was better prepared. It was clear that they wouldn’t stop asking questions, so he quickly swallowed and turned the conversation around. “Why don’t you introduce yourself first?” he suggested. “I don’t even know your names.”

At that Susan and Ernie, both blushed bright pink. They didn’t otherwise resemble each other at all, but the way their faces turned red simultaneously, they could’ve been siblings.

“Right,” Susan agreed with a nod. “I’m Susan Bones. That’s Megan Jones,” she pointed to the girl next to her who had kicked her under the table – Kakashi already expected that he’d confuse the similar names. “The boy next to you is Justin Finch-Fletchley, and that’s Ernie Macmillan.” She nodded at the curly-haired boy and then at the one next to herself. Then she continued to name the other girl sitting on Kakashi’s other side. “And Hannah Abbott.” Hannah had a rosy face and blond pigtails. She smiled shyly at Kakashi.

“You, Justin, and I share a dorm room,” Ernie added when Susan finished her introduction, “with three other boys. Give me a…” He looked around searchingly.

“Ah, right. You see the boy over there?” He pointed over their heads at a blonde boy talking to a bunch of the older Hufflepuffs further up the table. Cedric was there as well. “That’s Zacharias Smith. He’s playing for our Quidditch team. Cedric is the Captain, by the way. You already met him. That’s the team he’s talking to. The one next to him is Wayne Hopkins. The one with the freckles.” He turned around and then pointed at a dark-skinned boy who sat close to them among the second years. He had his nose in a book and didn’t seem to care much about what was going on around him as if he hadn’t even noticed that he was sitting with the younger kids. “And that’s Nitin Divekar,” Ernie said. “Hey, Nitin!” But Nitin didn’t react. “We have a new classmate!” Still no reaction. Ultimately, Ernie shrugged. “I guess he’s at an exciting part.”

**

Kakashi had a headache. With the excuse that he was tired, he had crawled into bed and drawn the curtains shut. It wasn’t even a lie. He was so tired, that he hadn’t even been able to concentrate much on where his new classmates led him. Apparently, the Hufflepuff common room was hidden under a password-protected barrier, but Kakashi had no energy to concentrate enough chakra to be able to see the encoded entryway nor even the common room. He had just barely managed to fall into the bed that had his trunk lying next to it.

However, he hadn’t fallen asleep after that. Behind the curtains, he could hear the other boys whisper. They were clearly far from tired and all too eager to share their holiday stories, but out of consideration for him, they kept their voices low. That didn’t help Kakashi though, as his senses still picked up on the conversation and in fact, it was more difficult for him to sleep with people whispering around him than if they shouted.

Whispers just set him on edge. His brain was trained to home in on these silent conversations, perceiving them as potential threats.

That wasn’t the only reason why he couldn’t sleep though. Existing in this castle was weird and energy-consuming. His instincts were still telling him to get away for no apparent reason other than the wards around the castle telling him that he wasn’t welcome. Even worse was the fact that the world he perceived was a lie. It gave him nauseating whiplash. He had stumbled three times on the stairs and even now as he had the curtains drawn shut, he couldn’t get past the fact that out there he was surrounded by walls he couldn’t see while the walls he did see were lies.

It was infuriating.

And it was even worse, that not only had he no idea how to break the wards, but he didn’t even dare probe them, as he now knew, that Dumbledore would pick up on his manipulations.

Already teetering on the side of desperate, he put his hands together in the tiger sign. Kai. He didn’t say the jutsu but he still felt a small burst of chakra leave his body, yet nothing happened. It was no mere genjutsu that he could break out of. And honestly, it wasn’t even worth the try, as now he had even less chakra.

Revelio veritas. He still remembered the spell Professor Snape had used against him, how he had broken through Kakashi’s Transformation. If only Kakashi had a similar technique now. If only he could use magic…Or if he had a jutsu that could do the same.

Revelio…veritas… It was Latin, he knew now. During his time in Diagon Alley, he had found out that at least 90% of the most commonly used spells were in Latin or at least something that resembled Latin. It didn’t help him much, as Kakashi couldn’t speak Latin, and really between learning English and picking up some rudimentary Afrikaans just in case somebody dared him to prove that he really was from South Africa, he had no time to learn a third language.

Revelio…That seemed easy enough. It sounded like to reveal. And veritas sounded like…this one was more difficult, but he had a hunch that it had the same origin as words like veritable and verify. So revelio veritas would be something like to reveal the truth.

Kakashi scratched his head. If the spell was meant to reveal the truth, it wasn’t really a spell that was meant to break a specific spell. The fact that it didn’t only break magic but even his jutsu proved that it would reveal the truth no matter the means by which the truth was hidden. Such a spell would be quite nifty.

Curious… Could Kakashi do the same? Could he create a jutsu that wouldn’t necessarily break or manipulate the wards but simply, independently of the wards enable him to see the truth.

If he thought of it from that angle, maybe he had a chance. Maybe he could leave the wards intact and simply layer a jutsu of his own on top of the wards that would exclude Kakashi from being affected by them. After all, that was all he needed. Whenever he had tried to manipulate magic before, it had always been either…or. Either activate the magic or deactivate it. Either try to break through the magic or leave it intact. However, if deactivating or breaking through the wards was impossible, and leaving it activated and intact was, in the long run, unfeasible for him…He had to find a middle ground.

Maybe he could find a way how the wards around Hogwarts either ignored him entirely or maybe he could fool them into thinking he was magical. Surely that was possible. If magic was impossible to understand and emulate for his chakra, it was only logical that he could do things with his chakra, that magic couldn’t defend against.

In theory, the idea was easy. He needed a genjutsu that made Kakashi look like a magical person. However, in practice, he had no idea how to go about it. If he could just put a genjutsu on Dumbledore, maybe that was possible – though even then, he didn’t want to necessarily fight Dumbledore who seemed a respectable warrior even just in the few minutes Kakashi had seen of him – However, Kakashi feared it wouldn’t be enough to just fool Dumbledore, he had to fool the wards around the castle. And the wards weren’t a person…How did you put a genjutsu on magic itself?

Seals… Kakashi thought, feeling his headache already increase. I’ll need to put a layer of my own seals over the wards…

If only he had paid more attention to Minato-sensei’s and Kushina-nee’s sealing lessons.

He cursed quietly, pulling the blanket up to his chin. This would be difficult. He could waste days and weeks trying to find a good seal or he could…

There was a different possibility. One, he hadn’t really considered yet, but maybe one that was more feasible than teaching himself all the basics of sealing that he needed, to come up with his own technique to do something he didn’t even know how to do yet…

Maybe, it was time to ask for help. Surely, with magic and help from the right people, it would be an easy thing to get past the Hogwarts wards.

For a moment, he considered asking Harry for help, then he shoved that thought aside. It couldn’t be Harry. Would Harry even know what to do? Apparently, one of his best friends was a good student, but even she was just a third-grader and likely didn’t know how to fool the wards around the castle…No, if he had to ask for help it would be the smartest choice to go straight to the person, he was certain could actually help him.

Dumbledore, he thought, it has to be Dumbledore.

Chapter Text

“Why do you want to see Dumbledore?” Justin Finch-Fletchley asked, tiredly pushing his scrambled eggs from one side of the plate to the other. He yawned with his mouth wide open. Then he put a fork full of egg and bacon between his teeth and started chewing so slowly, Kakashi thought he might fall asleep while eating.

Kakashi didn’t know how to explain his plight. “It’s just a lot to take in,” he answered vaguely.

“You know Professor Sprout is there for you? She’s our house teacher. Do you want me to show you the way to her office?”

That wasn’t what Kakashi had asked for. He frowned, unhappy with how Justin just ignored his initial question. “I’d rather talk to Dumbledore about it.”

Curiously, Justin glanced through the locks of his curly dark hair at Kakashi who only smiled back without giving anything away. “Well, whatever,” Justin shrugged. “If you think…But I can’t help you, I have no idea where Professor Dumbledore’s office is.”

Kakashi gaped at him. How could he not know the location of the headmaster’s office?

“I’m sure, Cedric can help you,” Justin spoke up again, just as Cedric passed them by.

The prefect stopped immediately, looking down at the two third-years at the breakfast table. “Help you with what?” he asked.

“Charlie wants to talk to Dumbledore,” Justin explained for Kakashi. He yawned as he spoke making it difficult to understand him.

Cedric’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. He eyed Kakashi. “Yeah, I can show you the way.”

“Great,” Kakashi exclaimed, glad that at least some people here knew the way to the headmaster’s office. “Can we go right away?”

“Don’t you have classes in a few minutes?” Cedric asked. “You shouldn’t miss your first class.”

Kakashi had to admit that it probably left a bad impression. He already had a lot of subject matter to catch up to. Kakashi had only little interest in most of the subjects. He knew he wouldn’t be able to use magic. He was curious about learning more about magic, but the classes weren’t the reason why he was here.

“What’s your first subject?” Cedric added.

“Muggle Studies, apparently.”

Kakashi turned around when somebody came up from behind him to lean over and grab a glass of pumpkin juice. He found Ernie standing above him, gulping the juice down as if he was dying from thirst.

“Yep, Muggle Studies, first thing today,” Ernie announced. “Me too. Eat up, Charlie, so we can go.”

Kakashi was about to refuse. He’d rather go with Cedric to the headmaster than learn more about Muggles – at the moment, one was clearly more important than the other. But he didn’t know how to explain that to the other boys, and he didn’t want to give off the impression of a kid who didn’t care for his studies at all.

“Meet me during lunch,” Cedric said before he left. “Then I’ll show you the way to Dumbledore’s office.”

However, it didn’t come to that. Kakashi and Ernie were about to leave the Great Hall when a teacher called out his name.

“Mr. Major!” A squat little witch hurried down the corridor between the tables towards the two boys. “Do you have a moment?”

“That’s Professor Sprout,” Ernie whispered before Kakashi could ask. “Head of our house.”

By now, enough of his classmates had mentioned Professor Sprout, that Kakashi didn’t need the last information. The Herbology teacher was shorter than Kakashi himself but much broader in stature. She waddled as she walked – just enough to be noticeable. Her short and wavy grey hair was half-hidden behind a big-tattered hat. There was earth on her clothes.

“Ah Mr. Macmillan,” she smiled at Ernie briefly, “I see you’re showing our new student around?”

“We were about to go to Muggle Studies,” Ernie answered. The blond shuffled with his feet, clearly impatient and not wanting to be too late to their first class of the year.

“Yes, yes, of course. I need a moment with Mr. Major here,” she winked at Kakashi in a kindly way, like a grandmother sharing a secret with her favorite grandson. Kakashi immediately blushed. The last time he had felt that flustered, was when Kushina had invited him to dinner, as he was supposed to keep her safe…

And look how that had ended for her.

Desperately, he shoved the memory aside. Professor Sprout also reminded him a bit of Mrs. Weasley, which was a much safer memory to think about.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad,” Professor Sprout added with a small frown. She had noticed Kakashi’s lapse and mood drop. “Professor Dumbledore wants to talk to you.”

How that was supposed to reassure Kakashi, he didn’t know. He suspected that Dumbledore had figured out who had probed his wards the day before. He’d question Kakashi and then kick him out of the school…Then Kakashi would have to come up with a new plan how to capture Peter, prove Sirius’ innocence, and evade the Dementors. The scenario Kakashi had in mind didn’t fit Professor Sprout’s kindly smile.

“Dumbledore?” Ernie asked when Kakashi didn’t come up with a response. “That was quick. How did he know Charlie wanted to talk to him?” Suspiciously, Ernie’s eyes traveled from Kakashi to Professor Sprout.

“Who?” Professor Sprout blinked confused. “You want to talk to the headmaster?” When Kakashi nodded, she clapped her hands. “Well, that’s great timing, I’d say. How about I lead you to him. And you, Mr. Macmillan, hurry along. Professor Burbage is always so excited about her first lessons with the third years.”

For a moment, Ernie seemed caught between his curiosity about what Kakashi and the headmaster had to talk about and his resolution to be on time for his first class. Ultimately, he pulled the strap of his satchel up on his shoulder and left the Great Hall.

“What is it about?” Kakashi asked when he and Professor Sprout were alone.

“Ah, don’t worry Mr. Major. Madam Pomfrey, our school nurse, informed us about your run-in with the Dementors. There are just some follow-up questions.” She held the door open for Kakashi and waved him to follow her. Going through the castle, Kakashi was still struggling with finding his path, so he couldn’t keep concentrating on the conversation. However, he doubted that the reason the teacher had named was all there was to it.

“And you?” Professor Sprout asked after a while.

“Me?” Kakashi asked, too distracted to understand what she wanted to know.

“Why do you want to talk to Professor Dumbledore, Dear?” For a moment Kakashi thought she had called him a stag. “If something is troubling you, I’m here for you.”

“I know,” Kakashi said. He couldn’t begin to count how many times somebody had told him just that in the last 12 hours.

Professor Sprout waited for almost a minute for him to tell her the reason why he wanted to talk to Dumbledore. Eventually, she sighed. “I understand this is difficult for you. You’re suddenly thrust into this new world. That can be frightening. I’m here to help you.”

Kakashi looked at her quizzically. “I know.” He felt oddly fuzzy at her words. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad.”

Professor Sprout chuckled. “Nothing major, Mr. Major?” With that, she stopped in the middle of one of the long corridors. Kakashi knew there was a wall in front of them and something that seemed like a statue, but he couldn’t make out more than the crude stone structure. “Peppermints!” Professor Sprout announced.

“Excuse me?” But the words weren’t meant for Kakashi, as just in that moment, the statue he could see with his Sharingan moved to the side revealing a passage behind it.

Once he was able to see the castle – if Dumbledore didn’t kick him out of the school instead of helping him – Kakashi should consider cataloging the many secret passages of the castle.

“I have to go to my class,” Professor Sprout said while Kakashi was still gaping at the stairs that had appeared in the hidden pathway. “Just follow the stairs all the way up.” She gave Kakashi an encouraging pat on his shoulder. “Or do you need me to come along?”

From her tone, he knew she meant it as an honest question, but he took it as an insult. Decidedly he took a step forward and onto the twisting staircase. It slowly rotated upwards into the unknown. As soon as he stepped through the passage, it closed down behind him, separating him from Professor Sprout.

The whole way up, torches hung along the wall, shining the way, until the stairs came to a rumbling halt. He didn’t know how high they had twisted, but surely, he was now above the height of the ceiling of the Great Hall. The castle didn’t have any towers, Kakashi remembered. That too was only an illusion, though. With his Sharingan, he had roughly gaged the shape of the castle from the outside, and now, he was certain he was in a tower. Slowly, he walked the last few steps up to a broad wooden door.

Kakashi was worried. Despite Professor Sprout’s reassurance, he couldn’t imagine this meeting going well. Either Dumbledore had already figured him out and knew that he had tried to manipulate the wards – then surely, he’d be kicked out of Hogwarts before he could even prepare a case for his defense. Or Dumbledore found out he was a muggle, and then too, he’d have to leave the school. At best, Dumbledore really only wanted to talk about the Dementors, but as soon as Kakashi would bring up his trouble with the wards, he’d kick him out of the school then.

Kakashi guessed he should be thankful…After all, in the shinobi world, if he was caught trying to manipulate a stranger’s seals– or even the seals of a foreign nation – he’d pay for that with his life. Even if Konoha wasn’t at war, there would still be a demand for retribution. A shinobi village couldn’t just allow their protective seals to be tempered with by anybody.

Getting caught on his first day was quite embarrassing. If that had happened on a mission, Obito would never let him live it down.

Obito is dead, he reminded himself.

“Come in,” Dumbledore’s voice came from behind the door before Kakashi had even knocked.

**

Ron panted heavily as they climbed the stairs to the North Tower. That’s where Harry, Ron, and Hermione had their first class of Divination. Harry was excited. Truthfully, when they were asked about their elective in the last year, Harry didn’t know what to pick. He hoped they had picked right. Ron and he had picked Divination and Care for Magical Creatures and Hermione…

“So, how does it work?” Ron asked between deep gulps of air. “You have Muggle Studies at the same time as Divination. You’re here with us, so you’ll miss Muggle Studies.”

Hermione sighed exasperatedly. She’d tried to explain it all morning since they got their schedules, but in all honesty, Harry understood it as little as Ron did.

“I told you,” she started struggling to speak through the exhaustion of climbing the stairs, “Professor McGonagall helped me with the schedule. It’s all settled.”

“You keep saying that.” Ron panted. “But I don’t get it. Do you or do you not have Muggle Studies now?”

Instead of answering, Hermione suddenly stopped. They had reached the top of the stairs to the seventh long staircase. There was a large painting of a meadow hanging on the opposite wall. “I think it’s this way.” She pointed down the corridor.

“No, that’s south,” Ron said looking out of a nearby window. “Look, you can see the lake outside.”

Harry had no clue where to go. Instead, he watched the painting. A fat, dappled-gray pony came ambled onto the meadow and was grazing quietly. Harry always loved watching the subjects of the paintings leave their frames and go to nearby paintings. It was always fascinating even three years into his education at Hogwarts. Then a short knight came running after the pony. There were stains on his armored knees as if he had just fallen off his pony.

“Aha!” The knight yelled as he saw the students in front of the painting. “What villains are these, that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!”

The knight drew his sword from its scabbard and began brandishing it violently, hopping up and down in rage. He was already painted very little on the huge meadow, and the sword was too short even for him. Then he overbalanced and fell facedown into the grass.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked.

“Get back, you scurvy braggart! Back, you rogue!” The knight picked himself and his sword up again, but he had trouble with all the extra weight of the armor, so only seconds later he landed flat on his back.

“Listen, we’re looking for the North Tower,” Harry asked as the knight was still struggling to get up. “You don’t know the way, do you?”

Instantly, the knight’s rage vanished. Instead, he climbed back to his feet and shouted: “A quest! Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!”

He tried and failed to mount his pony, then he gave up. “On foot then, good sirs and gentle lady! On! On!”

And before Harry, Ron and Hermione could say anything else, he ran to the left side of the frame and disappeared only to reappear in the next painting down the corridor. Harry and the others hurried to follow him.

“Are you sure?” Ron asked suspiciously, but clearly, he didn’t know where to go either, so following the knight was their best chance. Despite his prior exhaustion, the knight now seemed to overflow with energy. He ran at a speed that made it difficult for the teenagers to follow even though the knight was so much smaller and needed many steps for every one of Harry’s. As he led the Gryffindors up a spiraling staircase, shouting cheers and encouragement, Harry wondered if paintings could even feel real exhaustion.

Finally, after they reached the top of the stairs, their new painted friend waved at them. “Farewell!” he cried out pompously. “Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If ever you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!”

“Yeah, sure,” Ron muttered still reeling from their race up the stairs, “if we ever need someone mental.” He only added the last part when the knight was already out of sight. Then he doubled over, bracing himself against his knees. “Why did we choose Divination again?”

“Cheer up!” Hermione exclaimed pointing to a circular trapdoor above their heads. “We’re here.” She was grinning despite the sweat trickling down her brow. Her face was glowing with the excitement of learning something new. Shaking his head, Harry followed her, feeling like he needed a shower already.

Immediately, as the trapdoor swung open, a waft of thick odorous air made it almost impossible to breathe.

“After you,” Ron said, holding his nose, so Harry climbed the ladder first.

The Divination classroom didn’t look like a classroom. Instead, it was a cross between an attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. It also smelled like that – even worse…as if somebody had burned the entire arsenal of the tea shop. Small circular tables were crammed inside and surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. The windows were closed, holding the perfume inside, and it was uncomfortably hot with the fire burning under the crowded mantlepiece.

Harry and his friends weren’t the first to arrive. The whole class was quickly assembled around them. Only their teacher was still missing. Then a misty voice came from the shadows.

“Welcome. How nice to see you in the physical world at last.”

Professor Trelawney – Harry thought – looked like a large, glittering insect with her glasses that magnified her eyes to the size of saucers.

**

“Ah, Mr. Major,” the headmaster greeted Kakashi the moment he entered through the door. His long silvery-white beard rested over his chest as he leaned back in his chair.

“There you are,” Professor Snape added, sneering down his nose at Kakashi. The Potions professor leaned against the wall in the back of the office where Kakashi would’ve overlooked him if he hadn’t already smelled the familiar scent of dungeons the moment, he entered the office.

Dumbledore’s office was a large and circular room with many windows. That was all that Kakashi could see of his surroundings. The walls looked cracked, and the windows broken, but Kakashi knew that were just the wards trying to fool him. The room was probably rather pompous. It had a high ceiling and Kakashi saw the remains of a big archway. He didn’t waste too much energy trying to recognize his surroundings. Instead, he focused on the old man sitting at the big desk made from dark wood.

“You wanted to talk to me?” Kakashi asked stepping in front of the desk, only throwing the Potions master a passing glance.

“Indeed,” Professor Dumbledore held his hands in front of his chest as his eyes settled on Kakashi’s. Bright blue orbs behind half-moon-shaped glasses.

Kakashi had the odd feeling that the man tried to look past his eyes into his soul. Was that possible? Sirius had said that with magic people could theoretically do just about anything. Could Dumbledore read his mind or soul? If so, Kakashi couldn’t allow that. He was willing to share some of his secrets with the headmaster so he would be allowed to see the castle – hopefully. He wasn’t ready to lay his soul bare in front of this stranger.

Under the guise of the genjutsu he still wore surrounding his eyes he opened the sharingan.

Immediately, Dumbledore recoiled. He blinked in surprise, then shook his head as his eyes narrowed with suspicion. Still, he never lost the smile on his lips.

“There are actually three things I’d like to talk about,” he continued almost unperturbed. If Kakashi’s senses weren’t quite so highly trained he might have missed the slight tremor in the headmaster’s voice. “But first, I hope you slept well? This was your first night in the castle. How are you getting along with your classmates?”

Kakashi recognized this as a diversion technique to make him feel comfortable. “They seem nice,” he replied neutrally. “They were welcoming. Thank you.”

“That’s very good. Your situation is quite unique. We’ll try our best to make this as easy for you as possible, so if there are any issues, the whole staff is here to help you.”

Snape’s snort was almost inaudible, but Kakashi heard it regardless.

“You’ve already met Professor Snape?” Dumbledore continued nodding at the Potions professor. “He has a few follow-up questions I believe.”

“Of course,” Kakashi said, half turning to Snape when the headmaster nodded at the teacher to start.

Snape coughed slightly. His black eyes were fixated on Kakashi. “When we first met you said, you went to Horley to apply for a job in a bakery, Mr. Major. Is that correct?” he snarled in a tone that made it obvious that he wasn’t actually waiting for a reply. He knew exactly what Kakashi had told him.

“Yes?” Kakashi said regardless, already suspecting what Snape wanted to ask about.

“I’ve gone through the effort,” he pronounced the word as if it as a great annoyance for him, “to visit said bakery. It turns out…,” he paused here as if purposefully drawing out the tension even though Kakashi already knew what he was about to say, “that nobody by the name Charlie Major or even somebody fitting your description applied for the position.”

Black eyes glowered at Kakashi like a predator waiting for a sign of weakness.

Unperturbed, Kakashi blinked, feigning surprise. “Of course not,” he said looking from Snape to Dumbledore as if he was confused by the question. “When I arrived there, the job was already gone. So, I didn’t apply anymore. That would’ve only been embarrassing.”

Snape looked taken aback. Kakashi was a good liar and clearly, Snape – although he probably still suspected that Kakashi was a liar – hadn’t been prepared for such a calm response.

“You said you applied for a job in Horley,” Snape snapped impatiently.

“I said I went to Horley to get a job and that it didn’t work out,” Kakashi corrected him. “I never said I actually applied, and nobody asked for details.”

Snape seemed unhappy with the answer, but he couldn’t prove the opposite. Kakashi had never said anything about applying after all. “How did you get to Horley?” he questioned through gritted teeth.

Kakashi’s eyes narrowed then. “I walked. What is this? You don’t believe me?”

“You walked 25 miles from London to Horley and then another 10 miles to Little Whinging?” Snape dug deeper. “Only to coincidentally meet Harry Potter of all people, just as he ran away from home.”

Kakashi shrugged. “It’s not that much,” he replied calmly. With a small sneer of his own, he added: “You probably don’t take longer hiking trips, but the trip to Horley can be done in a day. And then I went to Little Whinging the next evening.”

Snape bristled at the thinly concealed insult. “And where did you sleep?” he pressed between thin lips.

“I think it’s called wild camping.”

Snape stared at him. “There is nobody who ever saw a—”

“Severus,” Professor Dumbledore interrupted him finally. “I think that’s enough.” His tone was strict, but his eyes still rested calmly on Kakashi. Even though Kakashi was certain that the headmaster didn’t try to read his mind or soul anymore, he still felt uncomfortable under the wise gaze of the old man.

“Headmaster, I’m certain Mr. Major is lying. Something isn’t right,” Snape insisted.

“It’s enough,” Professor Dumbledore repeated. “You’ve already checked for disguises in the ministry, didn’t you? So, here we have a young boy who is clearly magical – as you told me just a month ago that you saw it with your own eyes…” The headmaster shook his head. “If you want, we can talk about this at a later date, but now, I think you have classes to give.”

Snape stared at Professor Dumbledore as if he seriously considered hexing his headmaster, then he huffed and with a flurry of billowing robes, he rushed past Kakashi to the exit. The door banged shut behind him.

“I fear he doesn’t like me,” Kakashi said as the Potions teacher was gone.

“We’re all on edge,” Dumbledore sighed. “What with Sirius Black’s escape, and he especially…” But he didn’t finish the sentence and Kakashi didn’t believe for a second that Snape’s behavior was just because of Sirius.

After all, both Neville and Harry had already told him about the kind of teacher Snape was. Kakashi wasn’t one to complain anyway. If Snape was a shitty teacher, who was he to say anything against that? In the Konoha Academy, the kids weren’t coddled either. They were taught the tools to survive the world and the constant wars. No time for cuddling and fooling around. The way Professor Sprout had acted toward him  – and even the curt first impressions he had of Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey – had been very different from what Kakashi was used to. Even Minato-sensei, although Kakashi loved him dearly, hadn’t had the freedom to treat them like children. It hadn’t been sensei’s job to make them feel good, it had been his job to help them survive to the chunin exams…

Of course, sensei had done his job well…And then Kakashi had taken over as commander, and just a year later they were all dead…

Distractedly, Kakashi looked to the stained and broken window glass. Was a dementor close by, he wondered, or where did this sudden downward turn of his mood come from?

“I apologize,” Professor Dumbledore sighed. “Your story is a bit…unbelievable. However, as I was guaranteed by both Professor Snape and the ministry that you are indeed magical and that you are indeed 14 years old, the questions of where you come from and who you are, are somewhat secondary. You belong here. I would feel much better if I knew that you trust us enough to ask for help with any problems you might help, which prompt you to lie about your origins.”

Kakashi considered this. Although Snape hadn’t proven his lies, it was obvious, that they were all certain that he had lied even if they couldn’t prove it. If the headmaster’s statement was true, however, that he wouldn’t kick Kakashi from his school even after learning the truth…Maybe he could risk it.

“Yesterday,” the headmaster continued after a while. “Somebody tried to breach my wards. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

It was phrased as an open question, but the way Professor Dumbledore’s eyes rested on his, Kakashi was sure that the headmaster already knew for a fact who the culprit was.

Embarrassed at being found out so easily, Kakashi glared to his feet. “That was me,” he admitted.

“Can you explain to me, why you would try to breach my wards?”

Kakashi nodded. He only hoped that Professor Dumbledore would be willing to listen and help and not kick him from the school despite his words once Kakashi opened up to him.

“I did it because I think…Your wards believe me to be a muggle.” Professor Dumbledore’s eyebrows raised questioningly. “That is the only way I can explain it. Ever since I arrived here, I feel a strong need to leave again. It is sickening. However, what’s even worse, is that I can’t see the castle clearly. I can feel the magic surrounding me, which helps me navigate the castle, but I can’t actually see what’s around me.”

The headmaster’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. “You say you can feel the magic around you?”

“Yes.” Kakashi nodded. “I can feel it and if I concentrate, I can see it too…Not the physical shape, just the magic itself.” He wouldn’t explain the Sharingan to Professor Dumbledore. How would he even do that?

Curiously, the headmaster looked even more bewildered after Kakashi’s explanation. As if Kakashi was talking about something utterly foreign to him. Something occurred to Kakashi then…

“How does it feel? Or how does it look? When you feel or see magic…”

What a curious question… “It’s a sort of energy. Very subtle, but I’m getting used to it the longer I am here…”

Kakashi didn’t know how exactly to explain it. He still likened it to nature chakra the way Jiraiya-sama or Minato-sensei used for their sage mode. It was distinctly different, yet that was what it came closest to. However, he wouldn’t know how to explain either nature chakra or even the feeling of normal chakra to somebody who couldn’t feel or see it himself. And magic was the strangest and most unexplainable of them all… Which begged the question…

“You can’t feel it?” Because that much was obvious. When Kakashi spoke about ‘ feeling magic’ Professor Dumbledore acted as if it was an entirely new concept for him.

The headmaster hesitated, then he shook his head. “I’ve heard of magical creatures that can perceive magic. There are of course spells that help us reveal magic, and there are witches and wizards that are sensitive enough to feel a small tingling when passing through magical wards, of course… But for the most part…magic is something that is around us but invisible.”

Kakashi blinked. How…? “But how can you use it, if you can’t feel it and don’t know if it’s there?”

Professor Dumbledore looked down to where his hands laid intertwined over his lap. “We simply use it,” he answered matter-of-factly. “We know that magic is a sort of energy…We know this, because at places with a lot of it, magic creates a sort of atmosphere that interferes with other kinds of energy – like the kind muggles use for their technology.”

Kakashi shook his head still struggling to understand how a whole society could use a form of energy for their skills that they didn’t perceive and likely didn’t understand either. It reminded him of the bumbling foolery of a young Academy student with a lot of chakra, using it subconsciously without being aware that that was what they were doing.

He had naturally assumed, that whenever they used magic, they knowingly manipulated magical energy… But was their understanding of magic maybe just superficial? Did they use it without knowing how it worked? Did they even know the source of their power?

“This is fascinating.” Professor Dumbledore clapped his hands together. “However, I fear all our musings about magical energy and how you’re able to see it, won’t help us solve our initial problem. For whatever reason, it seems the wards don’t recognize you as magical.” He shook his head as if it made no sense to him. “Which is rather odd. You can use magic, and you are even able to see it. How the wards don’t recognize you as magical is beyond me…Curious…Quite curious.”

Kakashi feared that even though the headmaster wasn’t poking him with questions now, he would ask eventually.

“For now, however, I think we shall postpone our investigation. You have classes to attend. I shall see what I can do about the wards.” He leaned forward a little, blue eyes sparkling with a need to know. It seemed to take some effort to postpone the issue. “One final matter…”

Kakashi waited for the headmaster to explain this last thing. He was just glad that he had solved the issue with the wards. If the headmaster would investigate further, Kakashi would have to decide whether he should feed him with some more information soon…But apparently, he still had time for that.

“Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall informed me about your run-in with a Dementor. I am beyond furious, that these creatures attacked one of my students – never mind on their first day in school. How are your injuries?”

Kakashi was surprised about the concern for an injury that was already treated and healed without a trace. He touched the spot on his neck where the bruises had disappeared hours ago. “It’s fine. Madam Pomfrey healed it all.”

“I’m glad.” The headmaster nodded. “This morning, the minister informed me, that one of the Dementors complained about being attacked on the train.” Kakashi ducked his head a little. He hadn’t known that these creatures would go complaining to their superiors. He didn’t have the impression, that the Dementor had even felt the cut.

“Dementors cannot be killed by physical attacks,” Professor Dumbledore explained, “but they still detect the hostility and react accordingly. I understand that you felt threatened by them, and since you’re not used to your wand, yet, it was to be expected, that you would try to defend yourself by other means…But I hope this was a lesson. I will not tolerate the Dementors attacking my students, but if students attack them while they do their duty, I can’t guarantee your safety.”

Kakashi nodded. “I understand,” he agreed. “I won’t do it again.” However, he knew if it came to defending Sirius, he wouldn’t stop to consider Professor Dumbledore’s warning – though he had to find a different way to fight them.

“Do you still have the knife?”

Kakashi nodded.

“I fear I have to ask you to hand it to me. I’m sure you understand that I can’t allow the students to run around armed with muggle weaponry.”

Kakashi almost scoffed, fully aware that the wand was a more powerful weapon than any knife…Well, maybe not more dangerous than a kunai in the hands of a shinobi … In any case, Kakashi had enough kunai that he could afford to hand one over.

He pulled the knife out of his robes and put it on the desk.

“What an odd knife,” Professor Dumbledore marveled at its shape. “Where did you get it?”

“I always had it.”

Professor Dumbledore looked as if he wanted to ask a follow-up question, but then he simply smiled. “I see. Well, I fear I held you off for too long already. There’s no point interrupting Professor Burbage’s class ten minutes before it ends…Will you find your way to Transfiguration?”

Kakashi nodded, certain that they had passed Professor McGonagall’s classroom on the way here. He had recognized the faint smell of cat.

“Excellent.” He clapped his hands together, then the headmaster dismissed him with a smile. “I hope you enjoy your first day, Mr. Major. I’ll take care of your problem with the wards.”

Chapter Text

Kakashi didn’t hurry. He still had ten minutes before the first period would end which gave him all the time in the world to find McGonagall’s Transfiguration classroom before the start of the second period. Kakashi didn’t linger around though. He felt like somebody was following him, but as he turned around there was nobody. It was probably just the wards making him feel uncomfortable, he thought, but couldn’t shake the feeling.

He tried retracing his steps all the way back to where he had smelled the scent of a cat on the ground floor. Just as he stepped on the staircase down to the first floor, something shifted under his feet. Shocked he grabbed for the barrister, when—

The stairs moved.

“Ah, there it is,” a crackling voice announced from behind him. “I was wondering why the castle was being so boring lately. Normally, it loves playing around with the new students.”

Shocked, Kakashi whirled around. He hadn’t known there was somebody so close to him.

It wasn’t a student. Instead, a little man with slanted orange eyes and dressed in outlandish clothes with a bell-covered head hovered above the stairs behind him. Kakashi stared at him, as the ghost-like creature waggled its head. The bells rang shrilly.

“Ah-ah!” the man laughed showing a row of yellowish teeth. “There you are! I was about to get insulted. Nobody ignores me for that long.”

It was a ghost, Kakashi thought. It had to be. He had never seen one, but there was no other explanation. However, something was odd about it. He seemed almost tangible, not quite ghostly enough...

“You look like you saw a ghost!” the ghost cackled. “What a major surprise, huh?” Then he laughed about his own joke. “Let me welcome you to Hogwarts.”

The ghost snapped with his fingers, and suddenly a creamy cake appeared above Kakashi’s head. Kakashi reacted quick enough to catch it, but without the plate, the soft cake and cream crumbled and fell apart in his hands, pouring all over his hair and shoulders.

“AAAHAHA!” the ghost laughed, bells ringing, then it turned invisible and reappeared hovering next to the stairs pointing with his outstretched index finger at Kakashi. “WHAHAHA!” He clapped, curling in from laughter.

Now, Kakashi realized, that the stairs and the walls around him were all visible. Not just the ghost, that now began dancing over the banisters. There were paintings on the walls. The inhabitants were alive the way the ones in the pictures in the Daily Prophet were…Maybe even more so…

Just opposite Kakashi, a fat man in an oval picture frame shook his head. “Peeves!” His voice boomed across the staircase disapprovingly. “Take your games elsewhere. Some people have to work. My inspiration—"

“What would you be working on?” A haggard witch interrupted from a rectangular painting next to the fat man. “You haven’t published a book since you died! And you still owe me five Galleons.”

“You’ll get it, you greedy hag!” The fat man shouted back at her, waving a fist.

“How dare you!” The witch exclaimed, and then she disappeared from her frame and in a matter of seconds reappeared in the oval frame which was much too small for the two of them, where she hit the fat man with his own walking stick.

Meanwhile, the ghost – Peeves – was still dancing in front of Kakashi.

“You’re a ghost?” Kakashi said fascinated. Yes, he had read about them, but seeing them as a different matter entirely.

The ghost stared at him queerly, as if Kakashi had asked something utterly absurd. “Nah, don’t lump me in with those boring dead people.”

“PEEVES!” a different ghost appeared at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at Kakashi and Peeves. This one was much more ghostly, pale, and translucent.

“Oops!” Peeves shrieked.

The newcomer hat chains around ankles and wrists. The skin was pearly white. There were silvery stains on his old-fashioned robes, which might be blood.

There was something haunting about this one, Kakashi thought.

“Peeves!” the ghost repeated in a hoarse whisper.

“Toodeloo!” And with that, Peeves slipped through the bottom of the stairs as if he just fell through the ground, disappearing out of Kakashi’s sight. The other ghost stared at the spot where Peeves had disappeared from, then, just as children’s chatter reached them, the second ghost disappeared as well.

“What happened to you, mate?” Ronald Weasley came around the corner. He looked at Kakashi with narrowed eyes. “Did you have a run-in with Peeves?”

Kakashi nodded, frustrated that he hadn’t stopped the attack. Granted, there were worse things than whipped cream and cake in his hair, but even that was embarrassing enough.

“Sorry, man.”

“He’s a ghost?” Kakashi asked, curious and a bit excited. “I never saw ghosts before.”

“What do you mean?” Ron asked with raised eyebrows. “They were at the feast yesterday.” Kakashi shrugged, which prompted Ron to snort. “Man, you really need to pay more attention to things. Anyway, Peeves is a poltergeist…I don’t actually know the difference.”

He half-turned to the kids that came up behind him. “Hey, Hermione? What’s the difference between—” He stopped short then. “Where’s Hermione?”

Harry who had arrived after Ron looked back and through the crowd of kids standing at the top of the stairs waiting for Ron to move on. “She was just behind me a minute ago.” Harry turned back and his green eyes settled on Kakashi. Then he pulled out his wand. “Let me help you.” With a quick wave of his wand and a whispered “Scourgify,” he cleaned the cake from Kakashi’s hair and shoulders.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. Did you see Hermione?”

“What’s the hold-up?” Somebody asked from behind, prompting Ron and Harry to continue their way. Kakashi joined them on the way to the Transfiguration class. It was much easier now that he saw his way.

And then in the Transfiguration classroom, Hermione was already waiting for them.

“How did you get here?” Ron asked as he sat next to her, while Kakashi took the seat between Neville and Ernie.

**

The first day back in school and already there was a prophecy predicting his death. Harry liked to think that Hermione’s insistence that the prophecy wasn’t real and nothing to take seriously was justified…but with his track record it might as well be true. The grim…Professor Trelawney had almost thrown the cup away from fright when she saw it in his tea leaves. Harry hadn’t seen it…Well, with some fantasy, he guessed there could’ve been a dog…or a howling wolf…or maybe a lion or some other animal with a snout and fur…Not like there was a shortage of those. It could’ve been everything…

And yet, Professor Trelawney had been so sure, and surely, she knew what she was talking about. She was the expert after all, and he had only had his first Divination class.

Harry tried to shove it in the back of his mind. Transfiguration was about to start…but Professor McGonagall had still not arrived. This tardiness was highly uncommon for her. He looked to the front desk. There was a cat there sitting on the tabletop, watching the students with sharp eyes. It had rings around its eyes that seemed vaguely familiar to Harry.

“Where’s Professor McGonagall?” Ron whispered to Harry’s left. “Don’t tell me she’s late.”

“I’m sure she’ll be on time!” Hermione declared from Ron’s other side, but her eyes were nervously watching the door.

“Anyway, what do you think that was about?” Ron leaned toward Harry. “The grim.”

“I have no idea,” Harry replied. “I never saw a big dog like that…”

“Honestly, it might have just been a crab.”

“How was it a crab, Weasley?” Lavender Brown said from behind them, glaring at the back of Ron’s head.

“You didn’t see it,” Ron insisted turning in his chair. “How would you know?”

“Of course, I saw it!” Lavender crossed her arms, pouting.

Harry put his arms over his desk and rested his head in the crook of his elbow. He wished Trelawney had read somebody else’s tea leaves.

At that moment, up front, the cat stretched and jumped from the desk. Just as it landed on soft paws, it turned in front of their eyes. And there she was: Professor McGonagall.

Harry stared at her. He hadn’t seen that coming. But it seemed nobody aside from Hermione and maybe Charlie had taken note of the teacher’s show. Now, Harry also knew why those rings around the cat’s eyes had seemed so familiar. They had looked just like her spectacles.

Professor McGonagall looked around the assembled students, then she turned back into the tabby cat.

“What’s got into you all today?” she asked when she was human again. “Not that it matters, but that’s the first time my transformation’s not got applause from a class.”

“Please Professor,” Hermione said, “we had our first Divination class, and we were reading tea leaves, and—”

Professor McGonagall sighed with a frown. “Of course. I understand, Miss Granger. Now, which of you will be dying this year?” She rolled her eyes.

Even those whose attention she didn’t get with her transformation now stared at her.

“Me,” Harry said.

The Hufflepuff’s who hadn’t been with them in Divinations looked at Harry curiously. Soon the whole school would know, Harry feared. Draco would surely find a way to tease Harry with it as soon as his Dementor-mockery got old.

“I see.” Professor McGonagall fixed Harry with her eyes, “You should know, that Sibyll Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues—” She stopped herself. Her nostrils flared. “Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney…”

Her eyes roamed the entire class before settling back on Harry. “You look in excellent health, Mr. Potter. So, excuse me, if I don’t let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in.”

A few kids laughed and Harry felt a bit better. He trusted Professor McGonagall more than Professor Trelawney and her wet tea leaves. Back behind him, he could hear Lavender disapprovingly whisper to Parvati, but he didn’t listen. Instead, he opened his textbook when Professor McGonagall stepped to the chalkboard.

“Now, let’s move on. This is Transfiguration, after all, and not Divination. This first term of the year will focus on human-animal transfiguration. This is a highly advanced form of magic. I should say up front, that it is not expected for third years to be able to turn themselves or other people into animals, but you should still learn the theory behind it. I’m sure, you will all find it rather boring, but I fear there will be a lot of theory in these next few weeks.”

Harry and Ron groaned. That meant reading long chapters and writing even longer essays. Magic was fun but writing essays about it…Ugh!

“Now, does anybody already know how we call a person who is able to turn into an animal without their wand the way I demonstrated earlier?” She addressed the whole class, but her eyes obviously sought out Hermione. Indeed, Hermione did immediately raise her hand. However, she wasn’t the only one.

Even McGonagall looked surprised as she looked from Hermione to somebody behind Harry. “Yes, Mr. Major?”

Harry turned in his chair to look at his new friend. He was probably more confused than anybody else, how Charlie could know something the rest of them didn’t. Neville was staring at him too, Harry saw.

“An Animagus,” Charlie said in a clear voice as if he was dead certain. Harry remembered the word immediately. Charlie had mentioned it before.

“Very good, Mr. Major. I see you read ahead in the textbook?” Charlie neither confirmed nor denied the question. “Five points to Hufflepuff.”

As Ernie clapped Charlie on the back, Harry turned back to Professor McGonagall. Tentatively, he sniffed the air. The day before, Charlie had smelled something and guessed that Professor McGonagall was an Animagus. Apparently, he had been correct. But Harry had never smelled anything cat-like in Professor McGonagall’s office or classroom. Even now, as he was searching for it, he couldn’t smell anything. Harry knew the way cats smelled. Before he went to Hogwarts the Dursleys had sometimes left him with an elderly neighbor called Ms. Figg who had several cats. Her flat always stank of the animals.

While Professor McGonagall started writing down the basic theory of human-animal transfiguration Harry snuck a glance at Charlie. He thought he was inconspicuous, but immediately, Charlie’s eyes turned to him. The boy smiled at Harry as their eyes met, then he focused back on what Professor McGonagall was teaching with an expression as if this was the most interesting thing he would ever learn.

Harry remembered his first days in Hogwarts. Well, it probably was the most interesting thing, Charlie had ever learned, even if it was a boring theoretical lesson.

**

Now, this was lucky timing, Kakashi thought, as he left the Transfiguration classroom with Neville. He had feared that he’d need to look up all the information about Animagi himself, but instead it was the first thing he’d learn about in his Transfiguration classes. After initially talking about what an Animagus was, the class had focused much more on different and much more basic forms of transfigurations. Kakashi assumed it would still be a few weeks until they would learn anything useful about Animagi, but it was still a great relief to know that he didn’t have to do all the research alone. This way, he’d even have an excuse to ask Professor McGonagall directly about it later on.

“So, what do you'd be if you were an Animagus?” Neville asked. He sounded nervous and unsure of himself, but he clearly tried to keep the conversation going. “I mean it’s interesting, right? If it reflects your personality.” He wrung his hands. “Mine would be…I mean, I think…” Then he blushed, his ears turned a bright red and he pressed his lip tightly together. Kakashi guessed, he remembered the day before when Draco Malfoy compared him to a toad.

“A dog,” Kakashi said, feeling very certain about the assessment. "I'd be a dog."

“Oh, that’s cool,” Neville piped up with a bright smile. “You like dogs?”

Together they walked to the Great Hall for their lunch break. Kakashi pulled out his schedule on the way. “So, I have a double Potions after lunch,” he announced. “Where exactly is the classroom?” He guessed it had to be somewhere in the dungeons, but he didn’t even know the way there.

Neville leaned over to peer at his schedule. “A double Potions?” he asked looking rather unhappy. “I’m sorry.” He pulled out his own schedule then. “I have double Potions tomorrow morning,” he sighed. “Anyway, the classrooms are just…” He did a half-turn in front of the doors to the Great Hall. “Down that way,” he pointed at the big staircase leading into the dungeons. “then it’s right at the end of the stairs.”

“Don’t act as if you actually know the way, Longbottom,” Draco Malfoy sneered as he and his friends came up behind them. “Our new classmate might get lost in the dungeons. We wouldn’t want that, would we? What would your Muggle parents do if you couldn’t find your way back, Major?”

“Leave him be,” Harry exclaimed glaring at Malfoy.

“You’re a right bastard, Malfoy,” Ron muttered, shoving the boy to the side to make his way to the Great Hall. Then he put a hand on both Kakashi’s and Neville’s shoulders and pushed them through the door away from where the Malfoy now imitated Harry’s fainting in the Hogwarts Express. “Just ignore the bugger.”

Kakashi stopped short as he entered the Great Hall. There were candles flying above his head and above that…The ceiling portrayed the noon sky. The sun stood high above their heads shining brightly, almost blinding Kakashi as he looked up at it.

“He’s an idiot!” Kakashi almost missed what Hermione said.

“Will you be eating with us?” Neville asked, but just at that moment, Cedric waved Kakashi over from the Hufflepuff table.

Ah, right, Kakashi had forgotten all about that, so he excused himself from Ron and Hermione and left for his house table.

“Hey Charlie,” Cedric called when Kakashi got within earshot. “Do you still want to talk to Dumbledore?”

“No,” Kakashi answered as he arrived at the table. “Professor Sprout already took me there. But thanks.”

“No problem, mate. Whatever you need. Enjoy the meal,” Cedric waved and turned back to his conversation with the other fifth years.

Kakashi sat between Justin Finch-Fletchley and Zacharias Smith, and opposite Hannah Abbott. He hadn’t had the chance to get to know Zacharias yet.

“So,” Zacharias said as soon as Kakashi sat next to him. “Few things you should know before your first Potions class.” He pulled a plate of roast beef closer and served himself a generous helping that any Akimichi would be envious of. “Snape is a git. Don’t try to anger him, or talk back, or do anything at all unless you’re asked to. Just keep your head down and do what he says or follow the instructions in the book.” He cut his roast up and started eating in a tempo that even Kakashi would have trouble keeping up with.

Kakashi used the chance to take some of the remaining roast beef now that the plate was already so close. He served himself a few spoons of mashed potatoes as well. “I already heard about him from Harry and Neville,” he replied.

“I’m sure you did,” Zacharias said between bites. “But don’t listen to them. They have no clue how to handle Snape. If you keep your head down, it’s not that bad. They just don’t know that.”

“Because they don’t keep their heads down?” Kakashi asked dubiously.

Zacharias shrugged. “Never had Potion classes with them, but from what I heard…And I know Granger and Potter well enough. They never keep their heads down. Granger is a know-it-all. Of course, Snape doesn’t like that. And Potter puts his nose everywhere.”

“What about Neville?” Kakashi asked because although he could see Harry and Hermione provoking Snape with their attitude, it didn’t sound like Neville.

Zacharias shrugged. “He’s horrible at Potions from what I hear.”

“You’re unfair,” Hannah said looking up from her plate. “From what I hear, Snape is horrible to Harry and Neville. Everybody knows.”

Zacharias huffed. “He’s horrible to all of us. But if you keep your head down and don’t provoke him, he gets no reason to pull any house points.”

“It’s not just about house points,” Hannah disagreed.

“Well, in any case…if you keep your head low, he might not even remember your name. That’s honestly the best that can happen. That’s how I can cruise by in Potions.”

“But you’re good in Potions,” Justin said over his glass of pumpkin juice. “And you’re a pureblood. He likes purebloods.”

Zacharias made a face. “He likes Slytherin purebloods. That’s not the same.”

“You still have it easier,” Justin argued. “He leaves you be. You and Ernie both, because you’re purebloods even though he doesn’t like you.”

“It’s not like that,” Zacharias insisted. “I keep my head down.” He pointed at Susan a bit further down the table. “He leaves Susan alone too, and she’s a half-blood. And Longbottom’s a pureblood too.”

Justin grunted. “You know, that’s because of her aunt. She’s in the Wizengamot. I’m not saying, he’s a racist git who just bullies purebloods, but he’s picking easy targets. And you all have big families that will complain if you get mistreated in Hogwarts.”

“So what?” Zacharias scoffed. “You think he shouldn’t keep his head low. That’s stupid.”

“Nah,” Justin hummed. “It’s probably best if you keep your head low.” He looked at Kakashi.

Kakashi shook his head emptying his cup of pumpkin juice. It tasted odd and he decided to just drink water the next time. “It’s too late for that anyway. He already doesn’t like me.”

Zacharias groaned at that. “Please, don’t cost us too many points.”

“Zack!” Hannah exclaimed. “It’s not just about that.”

Kakashi took that as his cue to leave. He stood up from the table and was about to leave the Great Hall when Justin called after him. “Hey, didn’t you want to talk—Wait! You’re already done eating?” He stared at Kakashi’s empty plate that was just moments before filled with mashed potatoes and roast beef. The curly-haired boy quickly put his glass down, grabbed his bag, and ran after Kakashi.

**

“Mr. Major?”

Kakashi had just been about to open his textbook when Professor Snape called his name.

“Can you tell me what ingredients Mr. Corner has missed?” Down here, in the dungeons, Snape's nasally voice had an almost haunting quality to it.

Corner was a Ravenclaw sitting in the first row who had answered the question that Snape had asked before. Snape had started his class with a short recap quiz about the subjects of the last year.

“I don’t know.” Kakashi shook his head.

“Have you listened to what Mr. Corner said, at all?” Snape asked through his nose.

Kakashi nodded.

Beady black eyes fixed on Kakashi. “So?” Snape demanded when Kakashi didn’t speak of his own accord. “What did he say?” One of his eyebrows was raised expectantly, but from the malice in his voice, he didn’t believe Kakashi could answer the question.

“It was about the effects, and ingredients for a Wiggenweld Potion,” Kakashi said in an even voice. “It is a healing potion that can cure both injuries and the effects of a Sleeping Draught. The ingredients Corner mentioned are Wiggentree bark, Moly, Dittany, Sloth brain Mucus, drops of Moondrew, a slewed Mandrake, Honeywater, Horklump juice, Unicorn horn, and ten Lionfish spines” Kakashi recounted what Corner had said, though he didn’t know half of the words. What was a Moondrew? What was Dittany, or Mucus, or a Mandrake?

Snape looked crossly when Kakashi was able to answer. “And what was he missing?” he asked again.

“I don’t know,” Kakashi said once more.

“Mr. Major, I don’t know how it's done where you come from, but I think starting a new school, especially in your situation, the bare minimum of preparation should be expected, don’t you think?” He continued his stride through the rows of pupils with their kettles. “Five points from Hufflepuff. Please stay for a moment after class. As you seem unwilling to do the necessary work yourself, I fear we’ll have to come up with a curriculum for you.”

Ernie and Susan who sat to Kakashi’s right and left stared angrily at Snape, but Kakashi waved at them not to get involved. Whatever extra work Snape had planned for him, Kakashi didn’t really mind it that much. After all, now that he could see the castle clearly, he could afford to lose a bit of chakra to create a clone and do some extra reading.

After that, they were asked to brew a Shrinking Potion according to the instructions in Kakashi’s book. Following the instructions was easy by itself, however, what was difficult was figuring out what the different words for the ingredients meant. What was the spleen of a rat, or a caterpillar? Ultimately, he just looked at what Ernie was doing and picked the same ingredients, hoping the boy knew what he did.

Kakashi had no problems following the instructions, and it even looked the way it should. Snape was watching him closely he knew, and the man was silently seething at his success. And then he arrived at the last instruction.

14. Cast the Shrinking Charm

Kakashi read the instruction four times before he finally relented that he wouldn’t be able to do that. He stirred his potion waiting for Ernie to arrive at the same step. Kakashi had worked a bit too fast and reached this late stage among the first in the class.

“Mr. Major,” Snape called for him after Kakashi hadn’t done anything for a few minutes. “You will soon overcook your potion. Cast your Shrinking Charm now, or you can throw your potion away.”

Kakashi stared at him. “I don’t know how to do the Shrinking Charm,” he admitted.

“I can—” Hannah Abbott made to offer but was promptly interrupted.

“That’s a shame indeed. I advised against your being in this class,” he sighed. Then he nodded toward Hannah. “Very well, Ms. Abbott, if you’d be so kind?”

Red in the face from relief that Snape had agreed Hannah stepped up to Kakashi’s kettle and quickly cast the Shrinking Charm.

“How did you do step nine?” Hannah whispered at him when Snape turned away from them to look at one of the Ravenclaw’s potions.

“I’ve stirred in an even circle,” Kakashi whispered back. Most of his classmates he had noticed, had trouble with the stirring instructions. Stir slowly, stir vigorously, stir with caution, stir at a certain temperature… None of this was overly precise, and from what he could see from the other students, most messed up at least one of the stirring instructions, as they were too fast or too slow or not vigorous enough. “And without splashing.”

“I’ve tried that,” Hannah said. “But the color—”

“Ten points from Hufflepuff,” Snape declared without further warning. “Ms. Abbott, Mr. Major, no whispering. Why don’t you share your concerns with the class?”

Hannah blushed. She opened her mouth, but her lips trembled and then she pressed her jaw tightly shut. It was clear that she didn’t want to say something that could anger Snape and cause his wrath to land on her.

“Well?” Snape sneered. “We don’t have all day.”

Helplessly, Hannah looked at Kakashi.

“We were discussing what the instruction ‘stir cautiously’ entails exactly,” Kakashi explained moving his fingers through the air in a small stirring motion.

“Is that so, Mr. Major?” Snape asked focusing on Kakashi since he had spoken. “Surely, you speak the language well enough, to know the meaning of the word ‘cautiously’?” Without giving Kakashi a chance to reply, he turned to Hannah. “Ms. Abbott, maybe you can help your classmate again?”

“Cautiously means Carefully,” Hannah said at once in a squeaky voice.

“Very well, and what might this mean in regard to stirring?”

Looking at Kakashi apologetically, Hannah answered: “To stir evenly and without splashing.”

“Now, was that so hard, Mr. Major?”

Kakashi shook his head.

Ten minutes after the class, Snape handed him a personal curriculum, asking him to read four chapters of the first- and second-year textbooks every week so he could quickly catch up to his classmates. Snape didn’t explicitly say, that he would test Kakashi’s progress, but he certainly implied it. At the very least, he expected a short written summary of the contents.

Outside the classroom, Hannah Abbott was still hovering uncertainly in the corridor when he left the classroom a few minutes after everybody else.

“Charlie!” she exclaimed when he left the classroom. “What did he want?”

She and Susan were the only two kids left in the dungeons. Potions was their last lesson of the day.

Kakashi waved with the parchment, Snape had handed him with his list of chapters to read for the next class. “He wants me to read the old textbooks to catch up on the subject matter.”

“Ugh,” Susan made a sound as if she was about to vomit. “Really nice of Snape,” he muttered. “I feel really bad for you.”

“It’s not that bad,” Kakashi assured. “Really. I should’ve expected it. I need to catch up after all.”

Susan made a face as if she ate something disgusting. “Well, he could be nicer about it.”

Kakashi nodded in agreement. Snape could be nicer.

“I’m sorry,” Hannah blurted out as they climbed the stairs together. “You told me how to do the cautious stirring and then I just acted as if it was my idea.”

Kakashi shrugged. “I’ll survive.”

“It wasn’t fair. He took it and acted as if you were the idiot. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No harm's done.” Kakashi insisted a little embarrassed with the bumbling apology.

“No, it wasn’t right…”

“But Snape, the git,” Susan grumbled, “he saw that you were almost done with your potion. So clearly, you did the cautious stirring right.”

Kakashi agreed. Clearly, Snape had seen it too. The man wasn’t an idiot, after all. Quite the opposite. In any case, if Snape aired his grievances about being unable to prove Kakashi a liar by taking a few house points and asking Kakashi pointless questions to humiliate him in front of the class…That wasn’t as bad as Kakashi had feared. It wasn’t like he had come here to strike up a friendship with the Potions master. So, what did he care if Snape didn’t like him and showed that in class? He didn’t even plan to stay long enough to write the final exam and couldn’t care less about a passing grade.

Chapter Text

The next morning Kakashi had his first lesson in Care for Magical Creatures with Professor Hagrid. After everything Harry had already told him about Hagrid being the first one to introduce him to the magical world, Kakashi had been a bit excited about finally getting to meet the man in person. It turned out surprisingly disappointing.

Apparently, during the first Care for Magical Creatures lesson with the Slytherins and Gryffindors one of the creatures had attacked Draco Malfoy and left him with a broken arm. At least, that was Malfoy’s story. According to the Gryffindors, the injury was only a scrape and barely worth mentioning. In any case, it had successfully destroyed Kakashi’s Care for Magical Creatures classes.

Under his beard, Hagrid was pale, and his bottom lip wet and wobbly from biting down on it. He needed at least three attempts to explain anything at all, clearly worrying to make a mistake. And instead of learning about the hippogriffs the way Harry’s class had, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were made to learn about Flobberworms, which was boring and dull. If Kakashi didn’t remember that Flobberworm juice was also an ingredient in both yesterday’s Potion class and the ice cream cup Harry had bought him on his first day in Diagon Alley, there would be nothing about these worms, Kakashi found worth remembering. This way, at least, he could ponder the fact, that their pale pink blood was apparently edible, though they smelled disgusting.

“This was boring,” Zacharias complained on their way back to the castle. “I should get rid of it. I have too many electives anyway.”

“Give Hagrid a chance,” Hannah said. “After what happened to Malfoy, no wonder he’s a bit out of it. Maybe it will all pass in a few days and we can learn about hippogriffs too.”

“How’s Malfoy doing?” Megan asked in a quiet voice. She only spoke very rarely and Kakashi could only barely hear her. “I heard he almost lost his arm.”

“Malfoy is just a whiny little wimp,” Zacharias grunted.

“Granger said it wasn’t that bad,” Ernie said, as they met up with their other classmates for their History class. “He’s just making an elephant out of a molehill.”

“I heard he even told his father,” Susan added. “I mean of course he did, It’s Malfoy after all. But apparently, his father sent a complaint to the ministry. Wants to get Hagrid fired.”

“No wonder, he’s so out of it,” Hannah said sympathetically.

“Anyway, it’s boring. I don’t really care why,” Zacharias said again. “And now we have history…Damn, I already hate Fridays.” He dragged his hand through his short blond hair. “I can’t wait for Monday. We have Defense Against the Dark Arts then. The second years said the new teacher is really good.”

“What did you hear?” Susan asked curiously. “I heard he killed a Dementor on the train. Granger said he did that when Potter fainted.”

“He didn’t kill it,” Ernie said.

“Granger said—" Susan repeated, but she didn’t get to finish.

“Granger said, Professor Lupin chased it away, not that he killed the Dementor.”

Susan pouted at that. “Do you think they can be killed?” She asked curiously.

Hannah shook her head. “We’re supposed to stay away from them.” She looked worried. “They are dangerous. You know what Dumbledore said.”

“Yes,” Justin agreed, holding the door for them. “I for my part won’t get in their way. I didn’t fancy getting petrified last year. Really, I’d rather stay away from all these creepy creatures.” He shuddered. "It's the reason I didn't take Care for Magical Creatures.” He turned to Kakashi. “Ah, Charlie, did anybody tell you about last year?”

Kakashi shook his head, although he had read a bit about the Chamber of Secrets and Harry had at least mentioned it during one of their conversations over the holidays. However, Kakashi believed, that if information was freely given, he shouldn’t deny it. Whatever Justin wanted to tell him about anything to do with Hogwarts and the events of last year, Kakashi would listen. Maybe there was something useful to be gained. Just a few minutes ago – without even asking for it – he had learned that apparently none of his classmates knew the first thing about how to fight a Dementor. Asking Professor Lupin really seemed to be the best opportunity for him to learn anything about that. He’d have his first lesson with the new teacher on Monday.

For now, History of Magic wasn’t nearly as boring as he had expected after Zacharias complaint. He saw why Zacharias and his other classmates felt like that, though. Most of the students slept through half of the lesson because Professor Binns was a ghost who spoke with a sort of monotony that reminded Kakashi of practicing a very slow breathing technique.

But what he had to say about the history of the Statute of Secrecy was actually quite interesting.

Professor Binns also didn’t seem bothered, when halfway through the class the kids stopped listening entirely when Draco Malfoy started loudly complaining about his arm. It was the first class, Kakashi had with the Malfoy.

“Father says, he sued the school and Hagrid. If everything goes well, that big oaf won’t have his job at the end of the year,” he announced to a girl sitting next to him, Pansy Parkinson. Her nose reminded Kakashi a bit of Pakkun. He rather liked her face, though she wasn’t conventionally attractive, and the way she giggled at Malfoy’s story of losing somebody their job also didn’t make her seem particularly likable.

“How is it? Does it hurt?” She asked- Her whisper was loud enough that everybody in the class could hear it.

“Yes,” Malfoy answered. His lips turned into a suffering grimace but then he made a brave face. “The nurse said I almost lost it.” It was the same Megan had said earlier, telling Kakashi that Malfoy must have been talking about this all day. “I still can’t write, and this morning Weasley had to cut my ingredients.” He shook his head. “He’s ruined it on purpose! Professor Snape almost subtracted points, but of course, that would’ve been unfair since it was Weasley’s mistake. Ultimately, Professor Snape made Weasley hand his potion in for mine…” He sighed. “But it’s Weasley’s potion.” He shook his head as if in disgust. “You know, he’s horrid at Potions, so I can’t imagine it will be very good. Now I have to explain to father, why I won’t get an Outstanding in the assignment.”

“I’m so sorry,” Pansy cried out in shock at the unfairness of it all. “I would’ve offered to help if you had said something earlier.”

“It’ll have to do,” Malfoy whined.

“As if Snape would ever give you less than an Outstanding, even if Weasley made your potion,” Zacharias called out to Malfoy from his seat in the back row. “And now stop whining, Malfoy. My ears start bleeding.”

Malfoy glared at the Hufflepuff. “Maybe stop listening in on other people’s private conversations, Smith,” he hissed.

“It’s impossible not to listen,” Zacharias defended himself, “you’re speaking louder than Professor Binns.”

“As if you’d want to follow the class, anyway,” Pansy snapped.

Draco’s two burly friends – by now, Kakashi knew their names were Crabbe and Goyle – laughed stupidly.

“Shut up, all of you!” Ernie warned.

It was finally enough, even for Professor Binns, who stopped his monotonous litany in front of the class. “What is this about?”

“Professor Binns,” Pansy cried out, “Draco is still injured from the hippogriff attack yesterday.”

Malfoy perked up at that. “Yes, Professor. My wrist hurts too much to write. I can’t keep up.”

Worried, the old ghost peered at the bandages around Malfoy’s forearm.

“Ah, that’s a shame. Of course, one moment…” He looked at the rest of the class. “Would anybody here be willing to share their transcript?”

There were long faces all across the room. The Hufflepuffs all held their heads low, and from the Slytherins, there were only a few who had written down anything at all, never mind a full transcript that they felt confident to share.

“This is discouraging,” Professor Binns sighed after a few seconds with a tone of outrage. “This utter lack of comradery.” Clearly, despite teaching this class for years, he seemed to have no concept whatsoever about how few of his students paid attention at all. Wouldn’t he at least realize that at the exams?

“I can,” Kakashi said raising his hand.

Startled heads turned to him. Justin even nudged him in the side.

“What?” Kakashi asked curious about the reaction. Even Malfoy who had essentially asked for a transcript stared at him as if he had two heads.

“Why would you help Malfoy?” Justin whispered. “He’s a twat. He wouldn’t move a finger for you.”

“I have a complete transcript,” Kakashi said, pointing at his parchment. He was aware that it was likely riddled with spelling errors, as he still didn’t have the English spelling rules down, but he thought it would be enough for Malfoy to be able to read it. And Professor Binns was right. It was a terrible showing of comradery, if out of an entire class of kids not a single one could be bothered to help an injured classmate, no matter how much he might be exaggerating his injury.

“Excellent, Mr. Maddox,” Professor Binns exclaimed causing Hannah, Susan, and Ernie to laugh. “15 points to Hufflepuff. Now, where was I?” He looked into his own textbook trying to find the thread of his interrupted lesson again.

“You were talking about Italy’s refusal to implement Section 3 of the Statute,” Kakashi informed him.

“Ah, yes. Thank you, Mr. Madlin,” Professor Binns nodded, “Another five points.”

“Thanks,” Kakashi said not at all bothered by the constant misremembering of his fake name. He didn’t really care for house points but clearly, his classmates did, judging from the way Ernie, Hannah, and Susan grinned. Only Zacharias and Justin were still scowling at him.

“He won’t thank you for it,” Justin hissed when Professor Binns continued his lecture. “If you’re so proud of your transcript that you want to share it, give it to me and the rest of house Hufflepuff…Hell, give it to the Ravenclaws or Gryffindors for all I care, but Malfoy’s evil.”

Kakashi frowned. He glanced back at Draco Malfoy who was still staring at him with wide eyes before Pansy started talking to him again.

“He’s just a kid,” Kakashi observed. Malfoy had seemed rather obnoxious every time he’d seen him. The way he treated Neville, Harry, and Harry’s friends was horrendous, but Kakashi would hardly describe him as evil.

“Okay,” Justin nodded glancing back at Malfoy as well. “I see why you would say that. You don’t know him after all. But his father’s a death eater. Everybody knows. Last year I was almost killed, and Potter said, that it was his father’s doing.”

Kakashi hadn’t heard about that particular accusation, though he had already heard from both Ron and Harry, that Malfoy’s father was a death eater. He knew that a death eater was a follower of Voldemort. However, if meeting Sirius had taught him anything, then that, not everybody accused of being a death eater necessarily was that. And even if, Kakashi thought separating people into good and evil categories was a rather childish thing.

Kakashi had fought in a big war and killed people for his village. The people he had killed were his enemies who had murdered his comrades or would have if given the chance. From Konoha’s perspective, they were evil. And still, just earlier this year he had found a bingo book from Kirigakure with his own face in it and a bounty on his head…It had been a stark reminder that for shinobi and civilian in other countries, he was the enemy, and he was evil.

However, even if he were to adhere to such bleak black-and-white thinking… “So, his father would be evil,” Kakashi concluded.

Kakashi knew a thing or two about carrying the burden of being his father’s son. As a child, he had seen his father as a hero and the greatest shinobi of his village, and many others had seen it like that too, thus he was expected to follow in his footsteps, and to surpass him even. That alone was a heavy task to lay at the feed of a mere child – even if that child was a prodigy. Then his father had been labeled a traitor and a coward and Kakashi had struggled and strived against that image…Now he knew his father was a hero who had sacrificed everything for the life of his comrades, even his good name…And no matter what people thought of Kakashi…No matter how much they thought him his father’s son, he knew for a fact, that he could never be that. He had already failed at that.

His father was the hero who had saved his comrades. Kakashi was the scum who had failed them.

Even if Mr. Malfoy was evil…it didn’t say anything about Draco Malfoy.

“Didn’t you see, how he runs around the school as if it belongs to him?” Justin asked shaking his head. “Draco and his father, believe me, if they knew your blood status, they’d wish you dead.”

“I’m pretty sure he knows,” Kakashi replied. “Anyway, if you want, I can give you the transcript too.”

Justin was about to insist before he reconsidered. “Sure,” he nodded. “I think Susan knows a spell how to duplicate it, so we can make a copy for everyone if you don’t mind.”

Kakashi shrugged. “I don’t mind. Go ahead. But I have poor spelling.”

“Me too,” Justin grinned. He scratched his curly-haired head. “Snape and McGonagall almost always subtract points for bad spelling. But if you show McGonagall a doctor’s slip for dyslexia, it’ll be okay. At least with her, she respects that. No chance with Snape, though.”

Kakashi had no idea what dyslexia was, nor did he really care about losing points for bad spelling.

Just as Justin planned, as soon as class finished, he waved Susan over, so she could duplicate Kakashi’s transcript.

“You wrote ‘secrecy’ with a Z,” Zacharias said as he picked up his copy. “And what’s…?” His eyes narrowed, then he snorted in amusement. “Oh, is that supposed to mean Czechoslovakia?”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Hannah said, slapping the back of Zacharias’ head.

Justin peered at the paper. “Hm, that isn’t correct,” he said. “That’s outdated. Czechoslovakia separated this year.” He chuckled. “You could make some extra points telling Binns about that.”

At that moment Draco Malfoy strolled past them to the teacher’s desk. “Professor Binns?”

“Yes, Mr. Mallaby?” The ghost turned from his chalkboard to the kid who was visibly bristling at being called the wrong name.

“It’s Malfoy, Sir,” Malfoy said. “My name is Draco Malfoy.”

“Of course,” Professor Binns said. “I think I taught your father and grandfather, didn’t I?”

Malfoy nodded. He was red in the face and probably wondering how Binns could still forget the name even three generations in.

“What were their names again?” Professor Binns mused. “Lucas and Bilius Mallaby!”

“Abraxas!” Draco hissed. “Lucius and Abraxas. And it’s Malfoy. My father was a longtime member of the Hogwarts Board of Governors.” He added in an outraged tone.

“Very well, Mr. Malfony, what did you want to talk about?”

Malfoy apparently gave up then, though he looked close to tears, when Zacharias and Justin started laughing behind him. “I wanted to inform you that Czechoslovakia split up,” he said glaring back at Justin. “Just this year. You mentioned them in the list of contracting states to the Statute of Secrecy.”

“Oh, did it?” Professor Binns exclaimed excitedly. “That’s rather thrilling news. I will need to look that up for our next lesson. If a country splits apart that wouldn’t be of concern for the Statute of Secrecy for as long as the ministry doesn’t split apart as well. With the separation between muggles and the magical world, a muggle country splitting doesn’t necessarily mean the same for the magical community. So, I can’t answer your question quite yet.” Kakashi didn’t fail to notice, that Malfoy hadn’t actually asked a question. “Twenty points to Slytherin, for being so well informed on current matters.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Malfoy said with a dignified bow, before he turned around, shouldered a satchel, and left the classroom with a venomous glare towards the Hufflepuffs.

“That asshole,” Justin hissed. “He just listened in on us. He probably can’t even point at Czechoslovakia on a map!”

“I can’t either,” Ernie shrugged.

“It’s next to Germany and Poland,” Nitin picked up his copy. “I want to visit Prague one day.” He looked at Ernie who was staring at him. “You should really read Kafka and Hašek.”

The others looked at him as if he spoke a foreign language.

“I know Kafkaesque,” Megan said after what felt like an eternity, sounding uncertain.

Nitin shook his head as he packed his copy of the transcript away and left after Malfoy and the other Slytherins.

Ernie looked after him. “They are muggle authors, right?” he asked as Kakashi was packing away his things. “Kafka and that other one?”

**

Kakashi found Draco Malfoy again in the Great Hall at the Slytherin table. He was talking to a group of teenagers who Kakashi thought might be the Slytherin Quidditch team.

“I don’t know if I can go to practice tomorrow,” he just announced to the other boys, when Kakashi came up behind him. “My arm still hurts.”

“Take the time off, until you’re back in shape again. I’ll talk to Professor Snape about our first game,” a much older boy with broad shoulders and a heavy jaw replied. “We were supposed to play the first game of the year against those Gryffindor weaklings, but with your injury…We need our seeker.”

“The first game is always in the first week of November, right?” another boy asked in a nasal voice. “I won’t be angry if we can get out of that one…Weather is always dreadful around that time of the year.”

Malfoy and the broad-shouldered boy laughed.

“Malfoy,” Kakashi called out for him.

The blond boy turned to him, looking surprised.

“What do you want, Major?” The rest of his team turned to Kakashi as well watching him with varying levels of interest.

“You’re the new kid they’re talking about,” the broad-shouldered one said. “The one who didn’t know they were a wizard.” His voice was a bit like a frog, Kakashi thought. He was also difficult to understand because he laughed as he spoke. “I heard Peeves got you good yesterday.”

“It was a waste of a perfectly good cake,” Kakashi agreed, then he turned to Malfoy who was frowning at him. “Your transcript.” He pulled the extra copy Susan had created for him from his satchel.

Malfoy looked baffled as he took it. “You really meant it, when you said you’d share it?” He stared wide-eyed at the first line of the parchment, then back at Kakashi.

“You thought I lied?” Kakashi scratched his head. “Why would I lie about that?”

Malfoy shrugged.

One of the older boys looked over Malfoy’s shoulder at the parchment. “History of Magic,” he deduced from the title. “And I thought Potter’s Mudblood friend is the only one who paid attention to Binns in your year.”

“Don’t call her that,” Kakashi said, remembering Neville’s outrage at the word.

The older boy looked at him. Then the whole Quidditch team busted out laughing. “You’re one too, aren’t you?” The boy asked. “That’s why you didn’t know you were a wizard. What is it with Mudbloods and History of Magic?”

Kakashi shrugged, because the question seemed utterly benign to him, but was also easily answered. “I guess, getting accustomed to a world’s history, makes it easier getting a foothold in it.”

“Infiltrating and invading it, you mean,” one of the other boys hissed. “I know all about your strategies.”

Kakashi shrugged again, because technically, the boy was correct – at least when it came to Kakashi. He knew from many missions, that learning about a place’s history was the first step in trying to infiltrate it. Not that he needed that with Hogwarts and the magical world. That place had been awfully easy to infiltrate.

The broad-shouldered boy suddenly burst out laughing. “And they say, Mudbloods bring interesting new perspectives and knowledge into our world,” he exclaimed oddly happy. “Look at that.” He pointed at the parchment. “All this guy will bring is bad spelling. What kind of idiot writes ‘Secrecy’ with a Z? And look, he wrote ‘negotiations’ with SH. Negoshiashons.” The whole group laughed.

“He misspelled Czechoslovakia, too” Malfoy obviously remembered what Zacharias had said earlier.

“Well, how by Salazar’s beard to you spell Czechoslovakia?” somebody asked silent enough that not everybody at the table picked it up.

“And he wrote Parlament with an I,” one of Malfoy’s burly friends added. Kakashi thought that one was Crabbe.

“Yes,” Malfoy said, “because it’s Parliament, not Parlament, you idiot. You spell that with an I.” He knocked Crabbe in the ribs with his elbow, then he turned to Kakashi who was about to leave. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Kakashi said. “If you still need them for next week, just ask.”

Malfoy’s eyes widened. “Why would you—” he started, but then he caught himself. “Yeah, I’ll tell you,” he announced in a somewhat imperious tone.

“It’s not any extra work for me,” Kakashi answered his unfinished question regardless. “So why not?” He shrugged. “Apparently, I’ll share my transcripts with my housemates anyway. Susan knows a duplicating spell so I can just ask her for an extra copy.”

Malfoy stared at him as if Kakashi’s words made no sense to him. For a moment, Kakashi considered if he had maybe messed up his sentence structure again. He hadn’t felt that uncertain about his sentences in a while, but as he thought about what he had said he didn’t find a mistake.

“Uh, and you don’t mind sharing?” Malfoy asked eventually.

Kakashi shook his head, somewhat annoyed because he’d just explained that.

“He wrote ‘Signatories’ without a G,” one of the boys said.

“Well, you could almost excuse that. With Binns’ bored tone he always makes it sound like ‘sinnatories’.” The group laughed when the boy imitated Binns’ bored voice.

“So, what excuse is there to write ‘obituary’ as ‘obitrary’?”

“I think that’s supposed to be ‘arbitrary’.”

“Knock it off!” Malfoy grunted when Kakashi was too far enough away for any other kid to hear – but to Kakashi, the words were still clear as day.

**

“I think the mummy was coolest,” Ron nodded with a grin on his face. “I mean, my spider was not too shabby, but the mummy was just awesome.” He dipped a piece of bread in the gravy that remained from his dinner.

“Why didn’t Professor Lupin give me a chance, though?” Harry complained not for the first time. They were all still excited about their battles with the Boggart, and he just wished he’d had a chance as well.

“Nah,” Ron shrugged eating his bread and continuing to talk with his mouth full. “Think about it, nobody wants You-Know-Who in the middle of the staffroom.” He snorted.

Admittedly, Harry saw Ron’s point, but he didn’t think the Boggart would’ve turned into Voldemort. He already had the Dementor clear in his mind, although he still didn’t know how he would’ve turned that creature funny.

“Anyway,” Hermione interrupted then. “Why is Professor Lupin afraid of a crystal ball?”

Harry shrugged. Maybe Lupin saw too many shaggy black dogs in them, he thought amused. He was distracted when somebody came up behind him and Ron.

“Look at that.” Seamus put a parchment scroll down in front of Ron and Harry. “I got that from Wayne Hopkins.”

Wayne was one of the Hufflepuff’s in their year, though Harry had never had any contact with him apart from a group project in Transfiguration in their second year. He was a quiet boy and as far as Harry knew a substitute Keeper for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, but he never saw him play.

“What’s that?” Ron asked, picking up the parchment. “The Sinnatory States of the Statute of Secrezy,” he read out loud. “Who writes ‘Secrezy’ with a Z. And what the heck’s ‘Sinnatory’ supposed to mean?”

“It’s ‘Signatory States’,” Seamus corrected.

“Okay,” Ron shrugged uninterested. “What about it?”

“Is that from Charlie?” Harry guessed at the same time, recognizing the tidy font like a typewriter had written it. And then there was the bad spelling. “I’m pretty sure Charlie wrote that.”

“You’re sure, somebody wrote that?” Ron asked with a curiously raised eyebrow. “It looks like it’s printed.”

“Believe me, I watched Charlie write. He does Calligraphy.”

“What’s Calligraphy?” Ron looked confused.

“It’s a form of art,” Seamus replied distractedly. “Anyway, you’re right Harry. The new kid from Hufflepuff wrote that. It’s the History of Magic transcript.”

Immediately, Ron was interested. His eyes quickly traveled down the scroll, scanning the neat script. “That’s amazing,” he exclaimed. “Hermione, that’s better than yours.”

“What are you talking about?” Hermione exclaimed from the bench opposite them. She snatched the parchment from Ron’s hand and quickly read through it. Then she blushed. “Right, this is good,” she admitted begrudgingly, though, unlike Ron, she avoided comparing it to her own transcripts. “How did you get that?”

“Wayne gave it to me,” Seamus repeated.

“Yes, I heard that,” Hermione said impatiently. “How did he get it? I doubt Charlie would just hand this over.”

Seamus shook his head. “No, he did. Wayne said, he had no problem sharing, so Susan made a copy for all of them. He even gave one to Malfoy, Wayne said.”

“Why would he give one to that git before giving it to us,” Ron complained taking the parchment back from Hermione. “This is really good. Look at that!” He pointed at a precise outline of the event leading to the Statute of Secrecy halfway down the scroll. “The spelling is horrendous, but that’s genius. Why are your transcripts never that clear, Hermione?”

“If by clear you mean easy enough to understand that even an idiot like you can grasp it,” Hermione snapped back.

“Anyway, this is great, so how do I get one of these,” Ron asked Seamus ignoring Hermione’s retort.

“Wayne said, he’ll just hand them over. So, ask Charlie directly. He can’t do a duplicating charm though, so…”

“Yeah, no worries, Hermione can do that,” Ron said with a grin.

Hermione crossed her arms. “And why would I help you with that?” She sounded both standoffish and annoyed. “You should just pay attention to History of Magic yourself. At least make an effort! It’s so interesting.”

“Come on Hermione,” Harry begged, because he had tried to pay attention to History before, and it reliably ended with him falling asleep.

“It’s cheating,” she insisted.

“It’s not, technically,” Seamus disagreed. “Binns doesn’t grade our transcripts after all. Everybody still has to do their own homework and exams. It’s just helping each other learn something we all have trouble with.”

“Helping each other,” Hermione snorted. “You mean you all using the new kid’s generosity and not giving anything back.”

Harry felt a little bad now that Hermione put it like that. Surely, in a few weeks, Kakashi’s interest in History of Magic would wane the way Harry’s interest had died under Binns’ boring teaching style. And then if half the school relied on his transcripts, they’d just pressure him to continue. Technically, they could all pay attention themselves, even if Harry didn’t know how to make a thorough transcript like this.

“Charlie doesn’t mind,” Ron insisted. “Didn’t you listen?” Seamus nodded along, and even Harry found himself nodding, although he wasn’t certain if he agreed because he believed Seamus or because it would just make History of Magic so much more convenient for him.

“Of course, he minds,” Hermione insisted. “You’re all idiots, that you can’t see it.” She glared at them. “You don’t know how that is. He’s in a new school, in a new world, so of course, he pays attention in one of his first classes and then his new friends ask him to share what he wrote.” She grimaced. “I know how that is! He just wants to make friends, and he thinks that will do it. But you think the likes of Malfoy will thank him for it?”

Ron grunted. “Well, I don’t get why he’d share with Malfoy anyway. But we’re not Malfoy. And Charlie already is our friend.”

“And I really don’t think he’s the type who cares that much about buying friends,” Harry added trying to think the way Charlie would think. He failed abysmally because the boy was still a mystery to him. “I mean, he doesn’t seem like it.”

“How would you know?” Hermione asked. “You only know him for a month. Why else would he do that, huh? It’s not like you pay him.”

Ron huffed. “Maybe he’s just being nice, hm? Who knows? Maybe it turns out not every nerd in this school is a selfish know-it-all who doesn’t want to share her work with the stupid common folks.”

“That’s enough, Ron!” Harry warned, but it was too late.

“I have to do my Arithmancy homework,” Hermione announced as she jumped from her chair and hurriedly left the Great Hall.

“You didn’t even go to Arithmancy!” Ron called after her angrily.

“Leave her be!”

“She didn’t,” Ron insisted. “Arithmancy is at the same time as Care for Magical Creatures, so she couldn’t have gone there.”

Harry dragged his fingers through his hair, annoyed. “That’s not what I mean. Why did you call her selfish?”

Ron glowered at him. “Because she is!”

Seamus looked from Harry to Ron. “Is this still about History of Magic?” he asked tentatively.

“Why would she buy that fat cat?” Ron exclaimed as if he was just waiting for a chance to let loose. “Scabbers is already sick, and now that fat ball of fur is hunting him all across the common room. He can’t even relax in our dorm room because nothing is safe before that menace!” He slapped his hand on the table. “Scabbers barely leaves my side when I’m in the common room. But when I’m not there, he has to hide. I always fear that I come back, and that beast ripped him to pieces.”

Harry was tired of the argument by now. Partly, because he agreed with Ron, but he didn’t know how to tell that to Hermione in a sensible manner. Why did she have to buy the one cat that couldn’t stop trying to murder Ron’s rat? It wasn’t really Hermione’s fault, he guessed. Sure, Crookshanks had been rather aggressive even back in the shop, but nobody could have known how unrelenting he would hunt Scabbers. But still…Scabbbers was there first, and it wasn’t right, that Ron now had to fear for his rat’s life. Harry also didn’t know why Hermione wasn’t doing anything about it. At least she could lock Crookshanks away when she wasn’t around to have an eye on him. Instead, the tomcat roamed free, that sometimes even Hermione didn’t know where he was.

“Anyway,” Ron said standing up to look for Charlie. “Let’s ask Charlie! Is he—Ah!” He pointed at Charlie at the Hufflepuff table. “There he is.”

Ron grabbed Harry’s sleeve and pulled him along. “Charlie! Charlie, wait up!” Ron called out when Charlie was about to stand up and leave the Great Hall alone.

The brunette stopped and turned to them. He waved and waited for them to catch up, only to turn to the exit the moment they arrived. “I’m going to the Library,” he explained. Ron grimaced behind Charlie’s back. “I have to do extra research for Professor Snape’s class.”

“What does the bat want?” Ron asked running along next to Charlie.

Charlie held the door for all three of them. “He wants me to catch up on the first- and second-year material.”

Harry groaned. “What a pain,” he complained. Of course, Snape would demand Charlie do that. If every teacher just expected Charlie to catch up on all the material himself, why were there even teachers in this school? Harry couldn’t imagine doing all that alone.

“I need to get the textbooks.”

“We could give you our books,” Harry suggested, gesturing between himself and Ron, “from last year.”

Ron shook his head. “Ginny has my old books.” He sounded both apologetic and a bit ashamed. His family’s poverty always bothered him.

Harry felt bad about forgetting that for a moment. He had thought, it would be easiest for Ron to just ask his parents to send his old books over…but of course, that wasn’t possible. He quickly jumped in. “I put my old books in my Gringotts vault. Maybe the goblins could send them here.” But he wasn’t certain that would work.