A five-year-old Hari fell from the rooftop that he and his father were sparring on.
Twenty feet later, he hit the ground, feet-first.
“Goddamn, motherfucking piss-cunt son of a syphilitic whore with crabs and the broken-down donkey in the stable out back she uses to pleasure herself between tricks.” He began to walk up the wall back to their training circle.
“Okay.
Uncle Hidan is no longer allowed to babysit.”
“Aww.”
Seven-year-old Hari ducked under a spray of black fire from his father’s Sharingan.
His blank eyes stared straight ahead as he dove to his right, kunai slamming into the rooftop they still used for most of their spars.
He drew a handful of tags and activated them, tossing them behind him at his father as he leapt from the roof to the next building.
There was just enough time to hear, “what the—” before the explosion destroyed their sparring ring.
A moment later, he spotted his father’s chakra following him, more fire racing towards his position.
That was to be expected; nothing could hurt his dad.
Uncle Pein was going to be angry again, though.
He hated it when their spars spread to the rest of the village instead of the forests or grasslands outside it.
There was just enough time to avoid the three fireballs that set the roof on fire as he jumped to a third building.
Maybe it was time to try something else?
He turned as he jumped and his hands flashed through a series of signs.
False Darkness burst from his palms and Itachi had to spin to the side to avoid the bolt of lightning.
Hari fired a second one and turned to focus on running while his father got out of the way.
“Uncle Kakuzu hasn’t been keeping me appraised, I see,” his father’s voice said next to his ear.
Then things went dark.
Ten-year-old Hari walked beside his father and Uncle Kisame as they returned to Ame.
It had been a quiet mission—which meant that none of them had been forced to actually work killing the bandits that attacked.
Uncle Kisame had been really nice and let Hari have his share too.
While Hari had been with his father on jobs pretty much since he was found, he had begun taking part after he’d nearly hit his father with False Darkness three years ago and had been informed that if he was ready to use A-ranked techniques in spars without feeling tired, he was ready to deal with untrained bandits.
He’d improved from there.
This time, there had been a B-rank ninja that he’d gotten to fight on his own.
The three of them entered Pein’s chamber.
The man glanced up from his maps.
“I assume everything went well, yes?” He didn’t wait for a response.
“Good.
Itachi, Kisame, I need a word with you.”
Hari nodded and stepped out of the room.
“So, things are slowly beginning to come to a head,” began Pein.
“I understand that Leaf’s Power of Human Sacrifice is the last to enter play, but will be doing so within the year if things go well.
Sasori’s agents tell me that there might be some trouble with that.
We may have to take steps to ensure that—”
“DAAAAAD!”
Itachi looked up.
He was about to leave the room when Hari came running in through the window and along the ceiling.
The boy dropped, sticking the landing automatically and held out an envelope.
Itachi took it.
“To Harry (Hari) Potter, Akatsuki bedchambers, god’s Tower, Rain.”
Pein coughed.
“What?”
Kisame looked over Itachi’s shoulder.
“Is that parchment?
Who uses parchment?
I mean, aside from serious seal-masters.”
Itachi faced Pein.
“Shall I open it?”
“NO!” Pein shouted.
“You three take it outside Rain and use clones to check it.”
“Understood, Leader-sama,” Itachi turned to his partner and son.
A clone formed next to him and grabbed the letter.
“Let’s go.”
The three landed in a clearing in Grass.
Kisame created a pair of water clones, Hari added a pair of shadow clones.
They sat down.
Itachi meditated, Kisame petted Samehada, Hari pretended to meditate and instead just wondered why someone had sent him a letter.
After forty seconds, the three of them jumped as they heard a cry of, “What the flying fuck?” in Itachi’s voice.
“Dad,” said Hari, “you’re not allowed to hang out with Uncle Hidan anymore.
Ow!” He clutched his forehead where his father had poked him while Kisame clutched his stomach, laughing.
They went over to where the clones had gathered.
Itachi took the opened letter from his double and began to read.
“What the flying fuck?”
Hari jumped to see over his father’s shoulder.
He didn’t need to, but it was a way to amuse himself.
“Hogwarts.” Jump.
“School.” Jump.
“Of.” Jump.
“Witchcraft?” Jump.
“And.” Jump.
“Wizardry?
Wait, what?”
Kisame leaned over.
“Yeah, that’s what it says.”
“What?”
“You’re sounding like a broken record, kid.”
Itachi sighed.
“It appears genuine.
For a given value of genuine.” He looked at his son.
“Though I have no idea who sent it, so I can’t ask them questions.”
“You mean like if they’re serious or just fucking with us like some teenage girl being toyed with by an old man with money and experience who’s just using her for her body and plans to discard her like used trash when he’s done?”
Sigh.
“Yes.
I’m going to hurt Hidan again.”
Further discussion was cut off as there was a burst of flame beside Hari.
The bird that appeared got off half a squawk before False Darkness, a Great Fireball, and Samehada turned it into a mangled bunch of feathers.
Which then caught on fire and burned to ash.
“I’ll bite,” said Hari.
“What was that?”
“No idea,” muttered Kisame.
“But it .
.
.
is that pile of ash moving?” He poked the pile with the tip of Samehada and revealed a small chick with the red-gold plumage of the bird they had just killed.