It had been an .
.
.
experience, getting his wand.
He had been told about wands and, on the advice of the odd smiling man, brought with him some things from his home, just in case they were needed.
They had been.
The strange man who ran the wand store had been possibly the oddest person he’d ever met, including his uncles.
He’d been strangely disappointed when Hari hadn’t reacted with a specific wand.
In the end, he ended up having to make one for Hari from materials he’d brought.
His father hadn’t told him where he got them, or what they were, just that they were good choices.
The old man had identified the wood as Konohana—some sort of magical peach tree or something.
He’d been revolted by the other component offered and had taken it only when Hari had started getting angry and the store had begun to fill with wind.
Hari wasn’t sure why the Wizards made such a big deal out of wands anyway.
He’d tried a few spells out of the book of spells he’d had to buy for school and they’d worked easily enough.
Without the wand.
He’d just pointed and focused.
People always put so much stock in things like that.
He’d been working on getting rid of handsigns for his techniques for the same reason.
And it had been such a trip, seeing all those people out there in the city.
He’d seen more people in a day walking around than he had in his whole life, including one stealthy trip into Leaf to look in on his sort-of-brother.
This train station was amazing.
Only Snow Country had anything even slightly like this, and it was still in the beginning stages.
Thankfully, someone had included in the letter about school supplies how to get onto the platform.
He didn’t really enjoy the idea of standing around in the station, surrounded by things he didn’t understand.
Instead, he was sitting in a compartment on the train, feet up and relaxing comfortably.
They had been moving (and it was faster than even his dad could run) for twenty minutes at least when someone decided to open the door to his compartment.
“They’re saying Harry Potter is on this train.
Are you him?”
Hari looked up.
He’d seen the boy coming, of course, but still.
“Aren’t you rude?
Just barging in.
What if I’d been a couple getting in a bit of unsupervised time fucking?
Don’t you think it’d put the mood off if you came in and stared at her cunt while he’s trying to get his rocks off?
Anyway, no, I’m not.
Though if you want to see that, you could try three doors down the train on the other side.
They put up some sort of thing that’s keeping out sound, but they’re rutting away.”
The door slammed.
Hari smiled to himself and leaned back, watching the two and noting that Aunt Konan’s book collection never mentioned some of the more .
.
.
gross aspects of the activity.
Still, it was interesting, if only because he described it so often using words Uncle Hidan had taught him.
He supposed he’d understand the fascination in a few years.
For the next hour, he amused himself by spying on the train, watching to see who was talking to whom and, quite often, reading their lips.
Uncle Sasori had taught him that skill as part of the year they spent on intelligence gathering.
His taciturn uncle often complained at how unfair it was that he could use the Byakugan for the task to read the lips of everyone in an area all at once.
Then the door opened again.
This time it was the bushy-haired one he’d seen going from door to door, asking about toads.
“No,” he said before she could open her mouth.
“I’ve seen no toads around here.” She gaped at him.
“Is there something else you want?” he asked, his eyes still closed.
“Uh.
No.
Wait, how did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“How did you know what it was I was going to ask?”
He just smiled at her.
“Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“Nope.”
“Are you a first year?”
“No.
I’m a seventh year.
I have a glandular problem thanks to my parents’ families both practicing incest for generations.
Thank you for commenting on it though, bitch.
Thanks for reminding me.”
“I am so sorry!” She backed out of the room and closed the door.
“Why did dad want me not to hang out with Uncle Hidan?
This is a blast.”
The rest of the train ride was mostly quiet.
Some redheaded twins had come in and, from his spying, he’d known they were planning on pranking him.
So he’d swapped their prank into their pockets and listened to them scream outside the door as whatever it was they’d planned happened to them.
Otherwise, it was peaceful for him.
He got to watch three more couples engage in sex, one of them homosexual.
There were also four fights, two couples breaking up, six blackmail plots in the works, and more gossip about who had the biggest tits/most dreamy eyes than he had ever wanted to know about.
When the train stopped, he got up and walked outside.
He figured someone would get the luggage to the castle or not; either way, anything important was stored in the tattoos on his forearms his father had gotten him when he completed his first mission.
Some freak bigger than Uncle Kisame was calling for first years in a strange accent.
He shrugged and walked that way.
The man looked like someone built way over scale whose brain hadn’t been included in the upgrade.
He could see it was normal sized, possibly a bit on the small side.
Oh well, Uncle Zetsu’s white half was like that and was still really nice when it wasn’t hungry.