A pillar of flames burst to life, whirling in heatless blue. It only lasted a few moments before fading away, revealing…
What appeared to be a young man dressed in a muggle tuxedo, complete with top hat and dress cape. He even had a domino mask covering the upper half of his face. The outfit seemed to have seen better days, with rips and tears appearing all around it. More alarming, however, was that he immediately slumped to the floor, blood starting to pool around his body.
Dumbledore had his wand in hand and was about to cast diagnostic spells at the boy when he was nearly shoved aside by Poppy, her own wand already at work. While he wasn’t as skilled as the nurse with those particular spells, he had learned to recognize many of the results over the years. There were internal injuries, puncture wounds, as well as several broken bones. It was almost as if he had been tortured!
“Headmaster, we need to get him to the infirmary right away. There is a great danger of him bleeding out from his injuries.”
While he allowed the nurse to organize transport of her new charge, Albus finally became aware of the chatter that was filling the Great Hall. It wasn’t often that they saw something like this, at least not at Hogwarts or Beauxbatons. Durmstrand might be more used to seeing victims like that, but it would still be unsettling to see things so abruptly.
With a slight application of magic, he turned a single clap of his hands into the sound of a cannon, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “I’m sure you have many questions. I’m afraid that we do not currently have any answers for you. Not the identity of the young man, what may have brought him here, nor what happened to him. We shall be attempting to gain those answers, once we have treated the young man in question. However, these mysteries were not what we were here for. The Goblet of Fire has chosen. The three schools have their champions and those champions are even now awaiting the news on what they shall be facing in the tournament. Please give your champions the support they need over the coming year. As for the young man, when we have more information, I am sure we shall inform the schools about them. For now, we shall get you back to your dorms and other housing.”
The Headmaster had his suspicions on just who the young man was. If things had gone the way he suspected, the Goblet should have summoned the missing Boy Who Lived. There was no reason for him to have arrived in the state he was in though. Either someone had done something else to the Goblet other than the spells young Crouch had placed there, or something else was at work. It was time for him to check in on young Harry and get to the bottom of things.
***
Harry jerked awake in a panic, his eyes flying open as he quickly scanned his surroundings. He was on a small bed in an unfamiliar room of cold stone, with no sign of his companions. After only a brief moment of his being awake, a woman bustled into the room, adorned in a white and maroon outfit almost like an old timey nurse. With quick steps she arrived at the side of his bed and had some sort of stick in her hand, waving it around. Sensing no hostile intent from the woman was the only thing staying his hand.
“I see you’ve rejoined us, young man. You had us quite worried when you arrived with all those injuries. Fortunately we were able to get you to the infirmary in time to take care of your injuries.”
Those words sparked another wave of panic in the young man in question and his hands flew around in a self inspection. He wasn’t wearing his disguise anymore and was instead in some sort of generic robe. Even his mask was missing. Turning his attention back to the matron, he asked, “What about my companions? Where’s Venus?”
The woman frowned. “There was no one with you when you arrived. And Venus is where it has always been, in the night’s sky.”
Harry frowned and tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed, marveling that he felt free of pain. The battle had not been going well even when he’d joined the Senshi. He was fairly certain he’d taken out Jaedite out of the battle but there was no telling what had happened after he’d been whisked away to wherever this was. There was no time to waste on figuring out his surroundings. With a seemingly good bill of health, it was time to return to the fight.
Waving his hand across his body, he transfigured the robe into a copy of his usual tuxedo, conjuring a matching top hat. This would have to suffice with a mundane version of his mask until he could craft another with the identity obscuring properties of the original. Hopefully these strangers didn’t have any information on who he was behind the mask. He deliberately didn’t carry identification just for cases like this.
Ignoring the wide eyed, open mouthed matron, Harry raised one hand into the air. “Teleport!” The familiar tug on his magic had him closing his eyes to avoid the kaleidoscope of lights from the journey. However, the sensation of being squeezed through the fabric of the world failed to manifest. That had never happened. He had always been able to teleport to Venus ever since they unlocked his powers.
Opening his eyes with a frown, he took a moment to look inside, trying to get a sense for his magic. Had the injuries been healed in a way that interfered with his powers? A more terrifying thought had him clutching his chest. Had something happened to Venus that he wasn’t able to teleport to her anymore?
After another frantic “Teleport!” failed to generate the usual result, he sank onto the bed. The matron bustled about him, her stick twitching and producing some kind of visual effect. No doubt more diagnostics. He ignored her to instead focus on a different part of his magic, one that was related to the teleport but instead at a deeper level. His connection to his adopted sister, Minako. A sense of calm came over him and he relaxed as that connection burned brightly in his heart. She was still there, still safe, for whatever value that might have. He just wasn’t able to teleport to her. Could be a number of reasons. Looks like he would have to find her the old fashioned way.
Turning that focus to the other occupant of the room, he asked, “Excuse me ma’am, but who are you and where am I? How did I get here?” He paused before offering her a smile, the mask and top hat fading away. “Also, thank you for taking care of my wounds. That couldn’t have been easy.”
The matron huffed before nodding. “Well then. I’m Healer Pompfrey and you’re in the Infirmary at Hogwarts. As for how you got here, it looked like you were involved in some sort of summoning. I don’t know the details but I expect the Headmaster to be arriving soon to discuss that with you.” Her stick twitched again before disappearing into a pocket. “In the meantime, perhaps you can explain how you transfigured your clothes without a wand? And perhaps a name?”
Offering Pompfrey another smile, Harry nodded. “The name is Harry Aino. And as for how I changed my clothes, well, it’s magic. Which it seems you have as well. Is that stick of yours a wand? I’ve never seen or used one before so not sure why I would have needed one to do magic.”
“Never used a wand? How did you go through school without using a wand?! What kind of barbarian school did you attend?”
Harry scratched the back of his head. “Just the normal Primary schooling in London before we moved to Japan. They don’t teach magic at school, that I know of. I’m all self taught, me and my sister.”
Watching the Matron sit down heavily on the bed next to his, Harry suppressed a frown. There was something going on here, above and beyond his strange summoning. He’d never met another person who could do magic, other than the senshi and their various foes. Yet here was someone who seemed to think there should have been an entire education system for magic. Where had they been hiding this whole time?
Before he could continue that line of thought, the door to the Infirmary opened and in walked what could only have been a Wizard. The man matched the image in Harry’s mind any time he read of Gandalf or other wizards, from the hat to the beard to the overly elaborate robes. The spectacles and the twinkle in the eyes only added to the effect.
“Ah, my boy. Glad to see you in better straights than when you arrived. It would seem that Pompfrey has done her usual exemplary job in patching up the injured. I hope you would indulge me in answering some questions.”
Harry felt a pressure in the back of his eyes as he nodded to the old man. It wasn’t quite a headache but there was definitely something there. Perhaps something left over from his treatment. A quick focus of will sent some power to his head, healing whatever was affecting him, causing the pressure to lessen than disappear.
“I’d be happy to answer your questions, especially if you can help me figure out how to get home. My sister and I were involved in an accident right before I arrived here and I’m worried about her.”
Those eyes twinkled again. “Of course, my boy. Of course. We’ll do what we can to unite you with your family. Now, I am Headmaster Dumbledore. What is your name?”
“Harry Aino.”
“Aino, you say? Would you perhaps be adopted?” The old man offered a grandfatherly smile before adding, “For, you see, you remind me of a dearly departed family, their only son having gone missing many years ago. His name was Harry Potter.”
Harry frowned slightly before nodding. “That was my name before I was adopted, according to the records.”
“My dear boy, it is so good to see you alive and well. You’ve had a great many people worried about you.”
Another frown graced Harry’s lips before he mentally shook aside the burgeoning thoughts. He’d accepted that no one had wanted him for years before the Ainos had saved him from that agency. That there had been other people who had known about him but done nothing stirred those feelings he’d long thought buried.
“I see. While that is all fascinating, I’d really like to get back to my sister. I’m worried for her safety. We can swap contact information and I can call you to arrange another time to get together and discuss my past and these absent people who seem to think were so concerned about me.”
The twinkle in the old man’s eyes seemed to stutter for a moment before growing in brightness. “Of course, Harry my boy. Of course. If you know the flue address of your home, we can contact them right away.”
“Flue? If you can direct me to a phone, I’ll call home and have them come get me.”
“I beg your pardon. Do you mean to say that you have a muggle phone in your home? Is it not a magical residence?”
“Muggle? No, it’s just a regular phone. Never heard of a muggle model. Look, let me call my family and make sure my sister is alright before we do anything else.”
“I’m afraid we do not have a muggle phone at the school. If you can provide an address, I can have someone aparate nearby and contact your family that way.”
Harry shook his head before frowning. “I think there has been some kind of disconnect here. My family is in Tokyo. I don’t know what this aparate is, but it seems like I may just be better off getting a taxi.”
The Headmaster blinked before a slight frown graced his lips. “A taxi would not be able to help you, Harry, my boy. For you see, you’re in Scotland.”
Reaching up to seemingly clear out his ear, Harry scowled. “Excuse me? I couldn’t help but think you just said I’m in Scotland? Since I was just in Tokyo, you can imagine why I might find that distressing.”
That twinkle returned to the Headmaster’s gaze. “Quite right. We have a mystery to resolve, with multiple parts. However, as worried as I am sure you are for the safety of your sister, there is another urgent matter that we need to address. For you see, you have been chosen as a Champion for the Tri-Wizard Cup and are bound to compete.”
Harry scowled before slapping his thighs. “Okay, that’s it. We’re done here. I’m leaving. I’ll figure out how to contact my sister on my own, since you seem incapable of doing that.” Turning to the matron, he bowed. “Thank you, Healer Pompfrey, for treating my injuries.” Standing up from the bed, he waved his hands to convert his tuxedo into a blue shirt and jeans and started heading towards the door.
“I’m afraid I can’t allow you to do that, Harry. You’re compelled to compete, lest you lose your magic. Perhaps when you wake up you’ll be more ready to talk.”
Harry turned to confront the Headmaster, only to get a brief glimpse of a stick in the old man’s hands. Ah, a wand. Should have expected that.
Then darkness.
***
Harry woke up much again just as abruptly, though this time it wasn’t under his own power. He couldn’t move most of his body, only his head and some slight use of his hands and legs. That didn’t help him as he was laying down beneath a ceiling that was becoming too familiar.
“I do trust you’ll be able to remain calm this time around, Harry, my boy. We need to talk and I cannot have you running off in ignorance.”
Tilting his head to bring the Headmaster into view, Harry scowled. “Old man, you are keeping me from my family, one who was in life threatening danger. Unless you give me a very good reason why you aren’t releasing me, you will soon be experiencing life threatening danger.”
The sparkle in Dumbledore’s eyes was starting to grow annoying and they’d only interacted for a few minutes. If his sister hadn’t been in trouble, perhaps he would have handled things differently. As it was though, this man was standing in his way.
Dumbledore shook his head. “There are matters that you must take into account before you run off, dear boy. First being the nature of your summons. It appears that someone confounded the Goblet of Fire and used it to summon you, at the same time binding you into a contract to compete in the Tournament. A contract that will strip you of your magic unless you comply.”
Harry ceased his struggling for a moment as he let those words sink in. The only reason his magic was important to him was that it let him protect his sister. Without it, he would be at a serious disadvantage. He would have to rely on the other power, one he wasn’t sure would even work. No, he couldn’t risk the ability to save his sister. Still, that didn’t mean he would just accept that things were the way they were. He may not know what this stick or wand magic was good for, but they seemed to have some interesting tricks.
Turning his attention to the old man, he scowled. “Release me and we’ll talk.”
One wave of a wand and Harry was free to sit up. He watched as the wand was returned to some hidden pocket in the wizard robes. It’s too bad things had turned so hostile. The opportunity to talk to a genuine wizard would have been fun. Instead, he had to keep an eye on the old man, not to mention whoever else had been involved in summoning him. Was it some plot by the Dark Kingdom? Their schemes had been convoluted in the past and this could just be some way to get him away from the Senshi to make them more vulnerable. Hopefully Momoru would be able to cover for his absence until he could get things figured out here.
“Alright Dumbledore, tell me about this Goblet and the Tournament.”
***
Sitting on a bed in a little used section of the castle, Harry pondered the information he had been given by the Headmaster. There was too much detail for it to be an elaborate hoax, not to mention the sheer absurdity of the situation. Summoned to another world to partake in a deadly tournament? Being an analog of a local hero? An entire world of magic hidden from the world?
The magic back home hadn’t been overt, yet they hadn’t really gone out of their way to hide things either. It was more a matter of getting things done. His adopted sister had made a name for herself during their time in London and that continued when they returned to Tokyo and he joined her escapades, though she hadn’t been supportive in the beginning.
A slight smile graced his lips at the thought of her original reaction to learning that he was a magical boy to go alongside her magical girl life. The smile faded as he remembered the situation that he’d left her in by being dragged to this world. The Dark Kingdom had been ramping up the violence of their attacks, this last one being the worst of the bunch. He’d almost died. That was not something he had considered possible in all the fights they’d had previously.
While he wasn’t happy to be away from his family, especially since Dumbledore admitted to having no idea how he had actually been summoned, nor how to send him home, he knew this was an opportunity that he had to take to grow stronger. The wizards of this world had magic that he hadn’t even been aware had been possible. Up until now, he had always done everything by instinct or trial and error, mostly focused around protecting his sister and the other Senshi. If he could learn wand magic to go along with his other abilities, especially things like that stunning spell or a revival spell, then he would be better able to protect his sister. That meant focusing as much education as he could, as well as collecting all the supplies for magic that he could get his hands on. Books, wands, other items and enchantments. Whatever the wizarding world had to offer, he was going to take back with him.
One thing he was not going to do was stick around for months while that was all going on. It was just after Halloween. He gave himself until the end of the end to find a way back home. He had until then to learn and gather as much as he could.
One way or another he was going home with the New Year.
***
Cedric looked at the closed door to the classroom, reconsidering his idea of talking to the Boy Who Lived. The sounds of explosions and violence on the other side of the door barely slowed in the few minutes he’d been staring at the door. Hesitantly, he knocked on the door, wondering if the occupant would even hear it over the noise. However, that noise cut off almost immediately and a moment later the door swung open, revealing a room filled with the debris of a destroyed classroom. Remnants of tables and chairs were scattered in every direction while Harry stood on one side of the room, wand in hand and looking slightly winded.
The Boy Who Lived seemed to consider Cedric for a moment before waving his wand around the room with a muttered spell. The furniture pieces flew through the air, reconstituting themselves. Had he really just done a repairo on the entire room at once?
“Is there something I can help you with?”
Cedric broke himself out of his contemplations to regard the lost Potter scion. Shaking his head, Cedric said, “Actually, it’s something I wanted to help you with. I know you haven’t spent much time with us champions, and that you were entered into this tournament against your will, but I thought I’d share some information.” He paused to considered Harry for a moment before mentally nodding. “The first task is dragons. We’re going to face dragons.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
A dark look crossed over Harry’s face for a moment before he gave a resolute nod. “Dragons. You have dragons here and we’re going to face them. Of course we are. I don’t suppose dragons are small lizards easily handled in this world?” At Cedric’s headshake Harry sighed. “Of course not. Thank you. I suppose it’s time to spend some time in the library doing research. How can I repay you for that information?”
Cedric shook his head. “No need. I was given the information on the sly by my dad and thought it only fair that you should know, since you don’t have anyone here helping you.” Mentally suppressing a wince, he continued, “So if you need any help, let me know. The Potters supported my family in the past and I feel I should do my part to support the last one of their name, even if you aren’t The Harry Potter.” And boy did that feel weird to say.
Harry smiled and nodded. “I appreciate it. While I don’t know anything about my family, it might be nice to learn about them, or at least their past. Perhaps we’ll meet in the library to study dragons… and family.”
Cedric smiled and nodded in return. “I hope so too.” The Boy Who Wasn’t The Boy Who Lived wasn’t so bad after all.
***
Three weeks of learning magic and they wanted him to fight a dragon. Harry scowled down at the book and tried to keep quiet. The librarian was not a pleasant individual and he had no desire to interact with her again if he could help it. She made it seem like she was doing him a favor by even allowing him in the library and had been extremely reluctant to grant him any assistance, especially when he asked for books on dragons.
Forcing aside those thoughts, he instead focused on the reading, glancing between a couple of books and their articles on dragons. Between the spell resistance, fire breathing and overall bad attitudes, they were not a pleasant experience for a dedicated team, let alone a single student in the equivalent of high school. Still, there did seem to be other mechanics involved. Since they were being limited to just having their wand, they wouldn’t be expected to actually fight the dragon one on one. Cedric had hinted that they would be retrieving something from the dragon. Not an easy task either, but it did give more options.
Harry turned from the books on dragons to another section of magic that had caught his attention. In addition to the combat spells he was practicing, this discipline should prove extremely helpful when he returned home.
Time to learn about transfiguration.
***
The roaring crowds and the announcer were loud through the walls of the tent as Harry awaited his turn to face a dragon. As the final competitor of the night, he had to listen as three other people faced a dragon, hearing their tactics, blunders, and surprising successes. It wouldn’t be long before Cedric finished so Harry went over his plans and tactics for the fight. He didn’t care about winning as part of the Tournament. Instead, he wanted to see how his newly learned abilities worked in a combat setting. A dragon was orders of magnitudes more tough than any yoma he had faced before and if he could make his tactics work under these conditions, he would be better prepared to help his sister and her fellow Senshi in the future.
Finally, it was his turn.
Stepping out of the tent, he glanced around at the arena, taking in the rock strewn area and the nasty looking dragon hunched over a nest at the other side. While there was plenty of cover, more importantly there was plenty of raw material for his plans. First though, he summoned a number of snakes and ordered them to scatter around the arena. Then he transfigured a number of the larger boulders into golems based on the various yoma he’d encountered in the past, their vaguely female forms lumbered towards the hissing dragon.
As his constructs were blasted with dragon breath, Harry made his way around the edges of the arena, occasionally summoning more snakes and transfiguring more golems in a variety of shapes and sizes, attempting to swarm the dragon with numbers. Not that his constructs were having much luck, their magic wilting under the furious draconic assault, leaving them piles of inert stone scattered around the nest. Some of the quicker, smaller ones managed to get close enough to be smashed by tail and claw.
Harry winced at the cries of the snakes, able to at least understand them. It was only the fact that they were conjured creatures and not flesh and blood that allowed him to justify their slaughter. He would have to make sure to be extra nice to Gloria when he got home. Maybe get her a nice rabbit or something.
Banishing those thoughts as he rounded the last large boulder between him and the dragon, he focused on his strategy, conjuring a veritable carpet of snakes, both stone and flesh, and sending them slithering towards the nest. The dragon's hisses grew sharper and more panicked as the number of attackers magnified.
For a moment Harry could have sworn he understood some of the hisses from the dragon but pushed aside the thoughts to instead focus on the ground beneath the dragon itself. Huge hands heaved from the ground, reaching for the dragon’s snout. A blast of fire nailed the hands for just a moment before they clamped around her muzzle, allowing the rest of his minions to pile onto the dragon. Meanwhile, several of his earlier snakes snuck out of the nest, golden egg clutched in their coils, narrowly avoiding being smashed by the frantically trashing dragon.
Harry only had a moment to revel in his victory before the dragon broke free with a roar that pierced the air, along with the shrapnel from his smashed constructs. Sprinting away from the dragon and putting as many boulders between himself and the fire that was quickly filling the arena, he tried to conjure walls of stone behind him as he moved. That he remained unbarbequed bore testament to his success even as he rushed to scoop the egg from his snakes and dive into the tent.
***
Harry frowned as everyone got up from the table where he sat down in the main hall for breakfast the day after the first task. Ever on the way to the room people had seemed to avoid him but this was even more blatant. It was like people were afraid of him. There were even people from the red and gold table actively scowling at him. Whatever. These people didn’t matter to him, which was why he hadn’t gone out of his way to socialize with any of them, despite attempts by others to get to know him, just based on his name.
Ignoring the rest of the room, he focused on his breakfast and going over the fight with the dragon. What had worked, what hadn’t, how the magic had felt. He examined it like it had been one of the fights alongside the Senshi. A small smile graced his lips as he thought of all the golems he could summon. It would be nice not being outnumbered for once, though controlling all of those constructs had been a mental chore.
While he was focused on his food and thoughts, he wasn’t so unobservant of his surrounds that he missed the french champion taking a seat besides him. “Bonjour ‘Arry.”
“Hello, Fluer. I heard you had a great performance against the dragon. A shame the announcer had to ruin things for you.” Harry hadn’t had much interactions with the Beauxbaton student, but they had always been cordial.
“Thank you, ‘Arry. Your performance was amazing. So many simultaneous transfigurations, as well as the summons. Though I ‘ave to ask.. ‘Ow long have you been a parselmouth?”
“A what? I’m not familiar with the term.”
“It means one who speaks parseltongue. The language of snakes.”
“Ah. Is that what is? I thought it was just part of my magic. I’ve been able to talk to them for nearly my entire life, as far as I can tell. My sister thinks it’s neat and even got me a pet anaconda named Gloria.”
“Your sister is a witch?”
Harry tapped his lips for a moment before answering. “Not in the way that you think. Most magic works differently back home. There are no schools for magic, at least not that we know of.”
The french student nodded, a slight frown on her lips. “Then you do not know the stigma that accompanies the ability to speak to snakes here in Europe. It is said that all parselmouths are dark wizards. A terribly inaccurate statement yet one that persists, especially with the British. You see, their last two Dark Lords were both Parselmouths.”
A sigh escaped Harry before he could stop it. “Of course. That explains why everyone is avoiding me… though it doesn’t explain why you are not.”
Fluer offered Harry a small smile. “I know what it’s like to be disliked and distrusted for something that is beyond your control. I don’t know what you know of Veela, but we are not looked upon well in many regards due to our allure…”
Harry listened as Fluer gave a brief overview of the allure and her treatment, both at Beauxbaton and here at Hogwarts. He could understand her willingness to at least give him a chance to explain things and thanked her for taking the time to talk to him. He extracted a promise from her to talk again about her heritage as well as the wizarding world in general in the future. He did find his eyes tracking her figure as she walked away and thought he might be affected by her allure just a little. Or maybe it was the fact that she was a very attractive woman around his age and one who wasn’t only interested in him for his name.
Definitely something to think about.
***
It seemed the English were the only ones who wanted to make an issue of Harry being a parselmouth. Students from both other schools were more than happy to talk to him about magic, especially in regards to how he handled himself against the dragon. Victor even made it a point to meet with him to go over their strategies and spells. The Bulgarian had never really tried transfiguration and wanted to know more, while Harry hadn’t heard about half the spells the Durmstrand student had talked about.
Harry also met up with Fluer a couple more times, their discussions of magic and the differences between their worlds one of the happiest times he’d spent in this world. Had he not been so focused on trying to improve and find a way back home he would have loved spending more time with the woman who was just as smart as she was attractive. Knowing he’d be leaving her behind didn’t help either.
When he was informed about the Yule Ball, he went straight to the French Champion to ask her to accompany him, as he knew her best of the other students, as well as trusting that she wouldn’t see more into it than he was allowing.
He had a great time at the ball, even though he wasn’t the best dancer. Fluer was a delightful date and seeing the way magic was used to decorate the Great Hall was almost as fascinating. There were even a few other students who took the chance to ask him to dance. All in all a fantastic way to start what would hopefully be his last week in this world.
***
In the quiet of the early morning hours, well before anyone else in the castle had awakened, Harry stood before the Goblet of Fire, a number of diagnostic spells surrounding the magical construct. Most of the information the spells was giving him made no sense, but the important parts came through, based on his readings. The most important part being a link, however tenuous, to the magic of his home. It was that link that would let him return home.
“A little early for the day, aren’t you, Potter?”
In spite of himself, Harry startled. He hadn’t expected anyone else to be up this early, let alone for it to be Professor Moody, one of the few Hogwarts staff that had gone out of their way to spent time with Harry. The man was a fount of knowledge when it came to combat spells and tactics and they had many conversations on the types of yoma that harry had encountered.
“It’s New Year’s Eve, Professor. I felt like getting an early start today would do me some good before going into the new year.”
The fake eye whirled in the Professor’s head before focusing on Harry. The perpetual scowl seemed to deepen. “And what about yonder Goblet. It part of your new year’s plans?”
Turning back to the Goblet, Harry allowed a brief smile to ghost across his lips. “It has everything to do with those plans, Professor. It’s my way home.”
It was only a twitch between his shoulders that let Harry dodge the spell sent at him by the Professor, letting him drop and duck around the table holding the Goblet. His wand snapped into his hands from his wrist holster even as he spun and conjured a shield just in time to intercept another blast.
“Can’t have you going home yet, Potter. You’ve got a job to do.”
Transfiguring some of the tables into golems, Harry sent them after the Professor even as he sent blasting hexes of his own at the man. None of his spells reached the Professor as each was either parried, dodged, or shielded. Even the golems barely gave the man pause as they were ruthlessly smashed.
“You couldn’t just follow the script, could you, Potter? Couldn’t wait a few measly months for everything to come to a head. Just had to ruin all my plans?”
Harry felt some things clicking into place as he traded spellfire with the Professor. It was not a confrontation he was winning, already sporting a bruise on one shoulder from a bludgeoning spell, while none of his own blasts were catching the man. “So it was you who summoned me? Why!?”
“Because I needed you, Potter. Somehow you vanquished him as a baby and I need your blood to bring him back!”
So it wasn’t just Dark Generals who liked to talk about their plans during a fight. Good to know. Now if only Moody had fought like a Dark General instead of a combat veteran, things might not have been going too badly for Harry.
The next few frantic minutes were Harry trying his best not to be overwhelmed by the sheer volume of magic the Professor was throwing at him. In a final desperate move he latched onto the magic of the Goblet, trying to follow the tenuous thread back home. He threw all the magic he could conjure at the Goblet, only for a blasting curse to smash through his shield and send him flying across the room.
Laying in a crumpled heap, Harry could only watch as Professor Moody stumped over. He had no idea where his wand had flown and what other magic he could summon felt twisted and unwieldy. Something was happening with his magic in a way he couldn’t understand. Not that he could really focus through the pain.
“It may be a bit early, but you’re going to help me resurrect my master, Potter. Even if I have to keep you in a trunk like Moody.”
A flash of light blinded Harry and drew a shout of anguish from the Professor. When Harry was able to blink the sparkles from his vision, he had to blink for a different reason as tears flooded him. Standing in an array around the Goblet were all of the Senshi, variously posed, with Sailor Moon holding one hand above her head while the other pointed at Moody.
“Evil Doers who kidnap innocent people will face justice! In the name of the Moon, I’ll punish you!”
The following barrage of magic quickly overwhelmed the Professor, who had stood there for a moment in wide eyed, open mouthed astonishment.
To be fair, if he’d been seeing the Senshi in their outfits for the first time, especially after spending all the time around robed witches, he’d have stared too.
Struggling into a seated position, Harry watched the brutal beatdown with a slight smile, though most of his attention was affixed to the Senshi in Orange. That she was safe after the attack that originally brought him here was the best sight he could think of. Just before his eye drifted closed, he heard Sailor Moon shout out, “Moon Healing Escalation!”
***
Awakening with his head in the lap of a pretty girl was a nice touch, though it would have been better had it been one of the other Senshi, or Fluer, or rather anyone other than his sister. He would never live this down. Still, he had never felt safer, which was strange since he’d always felt it was his job to keep her safe. Looking up into her smiling face, he smiled back. “Hey kid.”
“Hey yourself. Decided to give the damsel in distress angle a try?”
A low chuckle escaped him as Harry sat up. “After the number of times Usagi pulled it on Mamoru, I thought it might be my time. Though I hadn’t expected getting kidnapped by wizards from another world. That’s a bit further afield than the usual Dark General.”
Minako chuckled and reached over to bonk him with her knuckles. “Baka. You had us worried, especially with disappearing during the fight like that. It took Ami weeks to figure out what happened. Our parents have been frantic…” She trailed off and wrapped her arms around him in a hug that had his ribs creaking. “We’ve been so worried.”
Returning the hug, Harry whispered into her hair, “I’ve missed you too, sis. All of you. I’ve been trying to get back… but it took until today to finally make headway. If the Professor hadn’t stopped me, I had hoped to make it home on my own.” He manfully suppressed a sniffle.
Ami made her way over, kneeling next to him, the Mercury computer in her lap. “Whatever you did boosted your signal and allowed us to finally Sailor Teleport to you. It took our combined powers to get here. Even Setsuna was worried.”
Harry glanced at the older Senshi with raised eyebrows. She just returned his regard with a level look. Silently chuckling, he turned back to Ami. “Can we get home?”
Sailor Moon bounced over and posed. “You bet! Now that we know how to get here, getting home is even easier. I can feel the magic waiting for us.” Waving her wand in a circle around the group, she shouted out, “Sailor Teleport!”
***
When the doors to the Great Hall were finally forced open through whatever magic Moody had used to keep them locked, the only things left were a series of destroyed tables and benches, an unconscious former teacher who looked nothing like the real Moody, and an ominously burning Goblet of Fire.