Chapter 53: 4-1: Roughing It

Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.

Book 4: Umino Iruka and the Foreign Friends

In late August, Hedwig brought Iruka a letter from Harry. This was not unusual. The contents of this letter, on the other hand...

Iruka-sensei,

I just had a really weird dream, then woke up with my scar hurting. Since the dream was about Voldemort, I'm kind of worried it might be true, or some sort of hint that he's up to something. I can't remember everything that happened in the dream, but I'm putting everything I can here.

It was in some big, old house, that looked like it belonged to someone really rich but they hadn't kept it up. An old man heard voices when there was supposed to be nobody there, and he followed them to a room where Voldemort was talking to somebody. I don't know who he was talking to, and I think the old man was a Muggle because he didn't pull out his wand and seemed confused about the stuff he was hearing. They talked about murdering someone, a woman I think, about getting at me somehow, and about wizards coming from all over the world, then a huge snake went by and told Voldemort about the old man listening. The other man in the room opened the door, the old man went inside, the other man turned around the chair Voldemort was sitting in and whatever he looked like, it scared the old man horribly, then there was a flash of green light and the old man died, and I woke up with my scar burning.

Could you ask Professor Dumbledore about this for me? It might be nothing, but after what happened last time my scar started hurting I don't want to take chances.

See you at the World Cup,

Harry

"'It might be nothing' he says," Iruka shook his head, "about as much chance of that as of Naruto swearing off ramen."

Minutes later he sat in the Headmaster's office, while the man himself read through Harry's letter.

"This is most disturbing," Albus said gravely, "and you and Harry were quite right to bring the matter to my attention. I am reasonably certain that this dream was at least representative of actual events; it would seem that dark plots are afoot once more."

"It's not a lot to go on," Iruka commented. "Would your Pensieve allow us to pick up more details, possibly?"

The whiskered wizard shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Even with my long practice of Occlumency, I would have difficulty gathering a usable memory of a dream I recalled clearly. The ephemeral nature of dreams, coupled with how vague Harry's recollection already is, would make transferring it into a Pensieve quite impossible."

"So it's basically like two years ago," the chuunin stated, "with a vague warning of impending danger but nothing particularly actionable. We know that Voldemort has some kind of solid form again, another possession maybe, and that he's got a large snake with him and is being helped by another wizard. Am I missing anything?"

"They are targeting Harry again, from what he recalls of the conversation he overheard."

Iruka gave his boss a dry look. "That's hardly new."

Albus chuckled sadly. "Unfortunate, but true nonetheless. There is, however, one bit of information that is immediately actionable. I shall, immediately after this meeting, send Mr. Potter a message advising him to clear his mind and do his best to shore up such Occlumency defenses as he has developed each night before bed. With luck, that should enable him to block out such visions in the future, at least in part."

"While I'm all for reducing the number of bad dreams my students have, wouldn't that also mean missing out on potentially valuable intelligence?"

The Headmaster shook his head. "It might, possibly, but that presumes that the connection between the two wizards can only manifest itself as we have seen thus far. After all, if Harry can dream of events surrounding Voldemort, could not the reverse occur as well? Worse, Tom is a master of the Mind Arts, and it is not inconceivable that he might be able to discover the connection and exploit it, either by falsifying future visions, stealing information from Harry's memory, or even directly invading Harry's mind either to observe or to control. As much as I would desperately wish for more information, I fear that the risks in this case outweigh the potential rewards."

"Make sure you mention that to Harry in your letter," Iruka replied, "or at least that Voldemort could send false visions or snoop on Harry. Knowing Harry, if he heard that connection might be used to control his actions, he'd try to distance himself from his friends to keep them safe." He frowned, his eyes narrowing. "There's more you're not telling me."

Albus nodded somberly. "Severus has already informed me that his Dark Mark has begun to darken of late, becoming bolder and more visible. After Voldemort's defeat, it had faded to near-invisibility, but its gradual return suggests that its creator is regaining some measure of his former strength."

"That is... not good," the chuunin sighed. "I hate knowing an enemy's in motion without having any real clues about what they're up to. All we can really do is watch and prepare as best we can."

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Bright and early in the morning the day before the World Cup, Iruka Apparated over to Remus's cottage in Yorkshire. It was a small place, very isolated, and as with virtually everything else to do with the werewolf it looked like it had seen much better days: The faded paint was peeling in places, the roof mostly a patchwork of inexpert repairs, and the whole building seemed to be sagging and leaning. While magic meant it was probably more structurally sound than it looked, it was still probably barely fit for human habitation.

The former Defense Professor answered the door quickly; he looked a bit haggard, probably due to the early hour or to the full moon in a few days. Like Iruka, Remus was dressed in comfortable Muggle clothing. "Ah, Iruka, good morning. Come in, please. Would you like some tea before we head out?"

"No thank you, Remus - I'd rather not risk missing the Portkey." He also didn't want to use up some of what was probably a carefully-husbanded supply, given the werewolf's limited means. The cottage's interior was little better than outside, looking somewhat like Iruka thought the Burrow would if the Weasleys fell on hard times: What sparse furniture was present was battered and worn, the sink full of an assortment of chipped and mismatched dishware, and the cracked and warped wooden floors bare of any carpeting. A few items of better quality or in better condition stood out, though, like the small collection of books on a rickety shelf. Some pieces, like a stout kettle and cast-iron skillet by the stove, were of a more robust and utilitarian construction, while a set of framed photos added some much-needed color to the room.

"Be it ever so humble," Remus commented sardonically, noting Iruka's perusal. "I'll be ready to go in just a moment." A couple of quick summoning charms later and he was packing the last few things into a rucksack. That done, the two men stepped back out, Remus locking the door behind them.

Chatting companionably, they headed off for the location of the nearest Ministry Portkey. Despite the fairly brisk pace the two set, the remoteness of Remus's cottage meant that it was nearly an hour's walk before they reached the spot where several other witches and wizards were already starting to gather. All had at least attempted to dress Muggle, though to highly variable degrees of success. Both newcomers had to suppress their laughter at the middle-aged wizard wearing a plaid blazer over a tank-top paired with a lacy pink knee-length skirt and golf shoes.

Some of those assembled around an empty lager bottle seemed to recognize Remus, or at least that he was a werewolf: An elderly couple looked sadly at him with a mix of sympathy and pity, while a younger couple moved their two pre-Hogwarts-age children behind them, gazing at him in fear. One wizard dressed in a high-quality tuxedo of fairly archaic style simply glared at the ex-Professor with undisguised hatred.

All these looks Remus bore with the resignation of long experience and a wan smile that didn't reach his eyes. It was so much like a young Naruto that to see it on a man closer to Naruto's current age was heartbreaking, but Iruka knew there wasn't much he could do about it.

Of course 'not much' isn't the same as 'nothing' and so the chuunin turned to his friend and spoke: "Oh, I've been meaning to ask, have you been able to come up with any more advice on casting the Patronus Charm? You keep saying not to be discouraged, that it's a hard piece of magic and many adult witches and wizards can't manage it, but given the fact that you got thirteen-year-olds casting it, well... I know a teacher's greatest pride is to be surpassed by their students, but it's still embarrassing to have teenagers outperforming me in magic."

"At this point, all you can really do is keep practicing," Remus replied, his eyes gaining a prankster's twinkle, "and we both know those kids are an exceptional group. Still, next time we're somewhere Muggles can't find we can go over your casting with a fine-toothed comb, maybe see if your wand movements could be refined further and make sure you're timing the incantation right."

The startled expressions on those people previously looking at Remus were immensely gratifying, as was the fact that four of the five shifted a bit towards thoughtful or respectful. Of course the hateful glare just came back fiercer than before, but some people are never happy.

As the time for their Portkey approached, everyone gathered into a tight knot, making sure they each were at least touching the bottle that would be serving as their Portkey. Remus had previously explained that all of the Portkeys used would be made from random pieces of garbage in order to avoid having some random Muggle walk off with them. For his part Iruka thought it was a bit strange, especially since it was entirely possible that a well-meaning passerby would pick up what they'd see as a piece of litter. Then again, both wizards and bureaucrats tended to be fairly weak in the logic department, so one couldn't really expect much from a combination of the two. Regardless, when the time came Iruka felt the characteristic yank-and-spin before landing easily at their destination.

"Nine o'clock from Shepherd's Brook?" asked a wizard wearing a T-shirt-and-waistcoat combination with blue jeans and loafers, "Let's have that Portkey, then. Come along, now, we've another group arriving from Donegal in a few minutes." The Ministry wizard soon directed each party towards their respective camping areas, and around a half mile's walk later Remus was handing money to Mr. Payne, the site manager.

Once they reached their assigned space in the currently half-empty field, Iruka pulled the tent off his backpack and the two men began to set it up by hand. Ordinarily he'd have kept it in a storage scroll, but given the Muggle nature of the campground open displays of magic were very much a no-no. The tent was borrowed from the Lovegoods, and simple enough to put up in a couple of minutes; alone it would have been annoying, but with two pairs of hands it was a breeze.

Walking inside, Iruka had to marvel once again at the wonders of magic. On the outside, it might have looked like an ordinary canvas cabin tent large enough for two or three people, inside it was practically a two-bedroom house complete with a compact but functional kitchen and, miraculous even for someone well-trained and experienced in 'roughing it', indoor plumbing. If reliable travel could ever be established between Britain and the Elemental Nations, most shinobi would kill (many of them literally) for tents like this.

"It'll still be a bit tight," Remus commented, "and we might end up setting a cot or two out in the kitchen, but it's only a couple of nights."

"Remus, just being in a tent at all is already well ahead of most of my previous camping experience. By the standards of just about any non-magical, this campout is going to be downright luxurious." The chuunin smiled happily. "Besides, I don't think the kids have camped at all before, so this should just be a fun adventure for them." He deliberately did not comment that it would also hopefully be safer than the 'adventures' Harry and the others had experienced.

Since it would be hours yet before the rest of their party would arrive, both of them busied themselves fetching water and building a campfire. That done, they set up a pair of camp chairs out in front of the tent and spent the time between reading, conversing, and watching with amusement and exasperation the mostly-inept attempts of their fellow witches and wizards to function without using magic for everything. Both had to fight to keep from laughing aloud as one wizard kept trying to use tent stakes like wands.

Around one-thirty that afternoon, Iruka headed over to the campground's car park, wondering how the Ministry was accounting for the near-total absence of parked vehicles given how packed things were rapidly getting. It was closer to two o'clock when the Grangers' car pulled in, swiftly disgorging its four occupants to stand and stretch after a long drive.

"So," the chuunin called as he approached, "how was the trip?"

"Not too bad," Wendell replied, heading for the back of the car to retrieve the family's bags, "a bit of traffic on occasion, but having people to chat with-"

"Or at," Monica interjected to an eye-roll from her husband.

"-makes the whole experience much less boring." He switched to a stage whisper. "Harry even got Hermione to look up from her book and participate!" The girl in question wrinkled her nose in mock indignation.

Iruka chuckled. "Well, I'm sure it's more comfortable than a Portkey, unless you're a big fan of violent spinning. Portkeys are much faster in theory, but you lose a lot of that when you have to walk an hour to get to the nearest one." This led into an explanation of the available methods of magical travel, though the group switched over to talking about more mundane topics when they neared Mr. Payne's cottage.

Remus was still seated outside the tent when they reached it, standing to greet them as they approached. "Harry, Hermione, always a pleasure; Mr. and Mrs. Granger, good to see you again; Professor Umino," he continued in the same tone with a gleam in his eye, "welcome to our camp."

Arrivals both new and old chuckled, though the foursome looked at the tent with some trepidation. Iruka winked at Remus before turning to them. "If you'll follow me, we can drop your things off and get you all situated. We still need to work out who's sleeping where at some point too, preferably before bedtime tonight." He and Remus both quickly slipped into the tent, stepping away from the entrance once inside to watch as the others entered. Remus even had the presence of mind to grab a wizarding camera that Sirius had paid for in order to see at least parts of his godson's trip to the World Cup.

The reactions didn't disappoint. Hermione was the first through the flap, and made it about two steps in before she registered what she was seeing and her brain shut down. Harry was next, and was so distracted that his usual agility failed him: He walked into the still-gawping Hermione, sending both to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Into this scene walked Hermione's parents, whose expressions kept swinging from awe at the tent's interior to amusement (Monica) or amused dismay (Wendell). It was at this point that the *click-POOF* of the camera was heard, a small cloud of purple smoke rolling up towards the canvas ceiling.

Once the two teachers had finished laughing at their students' expense, they moved forward to help the two up and apart, though the blushes on both teens' faces did nothing to dampen their amusement.

"Bloody Hell," Wendell muttered, gazing around, "if wizards can expand a little tent this much, why don't they all live in palaces?"

"A few different reasons," commented Remus, slipping easily into 'Professor-Mode', "starting with power requirements. Expanding a larger space takes more power, as does a greater degree of expansion. The less power required and the more power applied, the longer the expansion lasts - I could manage an expansion on this level for a few days at a time, but it would leave me quite tired. Softer materials like cloth are also easier to expand than more rigid ones like wood or stone - in essence, it's easier for the magic to 'stretch' them. I doubt many would be that keen to build their family homes out of canvas. I also wouldn't want to be inside an expanded room when its expansion charms suddenly failed. The only area I know of in Britain that's been expanded large-scale and long-term is Diagon Alley and its associated side-streets: Originally, they were actually just a handful of alleys, before a few witches and wizards set up stalls or carts to sell their wares. At some point, they wanted a bit more room and started enlarging the space available, then more people came, and it grew from there. Centuries of repeated castings of various expansion charms have effectively 'pre-stretched' them enough that they mostly hold their size and shape without needing the magics refreshed."

"Mostly?" queried Hermione.

"On occasion you'll find that the layout of the Alley seems to have shifted suddenly - this is usually because of either an old expansion fading, a new one being cast, or a faded one being re-cast. Also, every few years or so you'll hear about some building or another collapsing because the owner hadn't bothered keeping up its expansion spells, though that happens more often in Knockturn Alley and other areas where building change hands frequently or landlords tend to be lax about maintenance."

"But if repeated castings last longer," pressed Wendell, "why wouldn't those old families that have lived in one place for centuries have expanded homes?"

"Again, a mix of reasons," Remus replied, "starting with the difficulty and safety issues already mentioned. Expanding even a single room in a brick or stone house would take a great deal of effort and likely only last a few hours at first, which would be a lot of work to maintain. Why bother spending literally generations repeatedly expanding the same rooms when you could spend a few days or weeks adding onto the building the conventional way? Beyond that, many of the older families either wouldn't need nor want a huge mansion, and of those that do the ones with money prefer homes that look impressive on the outside as well as the inside."

Harry gave a cough at this point that sounded suspiciously like "Malfoy".

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Between trips for water and other necessities and a general exploration of the increasingly-full campgrounds, Harry and Hermione discovered some familiar faces. The Diggory family, neighbors to the Lovegoods and Weasleys and whose son was the current Hufflepuff Seeker, had set their tent up less than twenty meters away. This of course led to Harry and Cedric discussing Quidditch at length, to Hermione's obvious (and amusing) frustration.

Speaking of the Weasleys, they too were present, if a bit more of a walk to reach. Apparently Arthur had done some kind of favor for the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, who had thanked him with tickets for the top box. The tent borrowed by the ginger patriarch was oddly decorated, some sort of knit covers on much of the furniture, with a pervasive smell of cats. Six of the seven Weasley children were as excited as Harry for the once-in-a-lifetime show; Percy seemed more enthused about the chance to rub elbows with top Ministry officials. Regardless, Wendell ended up having to patiently try to explain several basic Muggle concepts to an enthusiastic Arthur Weasley while the kids discussed their summers and all present speculated on the coming game.

Other than visiting, much of the group's time was spent on the aforementioned explorations of the campgrounds. Hermione and Harry both marveled at the variety of foreign magicals, and all six enjoyed the numerous and often garish decorations. More than one particularly outlandish tent or other setup had them shaking their heads, wondering if some people just hadn't gotten the message that this was a Muggle area and overt displays of magic were forbidden. Regardless, amusement was had, souvenirs were bought (including Omnioculars, magical binoculars with a variety of useful features such as record/replay and slow-motion), and large amounts of unhealthy food were consumed from stalls scattered amongst the tents. The trip had already been a lot of fun, and the main event was yet to come...

Omake! More "Next year's Defense Professor" rumor

From: Kairan1979

Teacher: Bellatrix Lestrange, under an Unbreakable Vow not to hurt anybody

Reason for Leaving: Asking to be returned to Azkaban because she prefers the Dementors as company

A/N: Yes, Harry remembered more than in canon. His Occlumency didn't keep the dream/vision out (in part because he didn't know to shield against it), but it did let him retain more than he otherwise would have. Also, he's completely leaving out that Hermione badgered him into writing the letter after noticing he was acting odd and dragged the story out of him. He didn't want to bring it up and worry people - he's not that different from canon.

I was originally going to have Iruka find out about Horcuxes and Harry's scar here, but realized that there's no way Dumbledore would part with such information so easily. It'll happen eventually, but only when the old control freak is really pushed.

There was no way for me to put this in the chapter proper (at least not without a bit of random and out-of-character dialogue) but most of the more expensive items Remus owns are gifts from James, Lily, Sirius, and others. The cast-iron skillet and a few other practical things are from Lily, knowing that she could spend more to get something that'd work well and last a long time without it looking so expensive that Remus would baulk. I also figure she'd be one of the more practically-minded of the group.

I've got to say that I feel fairly proud of the segment surrounding Harry and the Grangers' arrival at the campground. It was totally unplanned (and originally would have been just a couple of paragraphs saying that they'd arrived and settled in) but when I saw what the characters were doing I just had to record it.

Before those of you that are especially observant note that the covers in Perkins' tent were crocheted rather than knitted, I know that. Iruka doesn't.

Fic Recommendation: "Time Braid" by ShaperV - Sakura dies in the Forest of Death, only to wake up the morning of the Chuunin Exams. She dies again, and again resets to that morning. Many, many cycles follow. Borrows a bit from Oh My Goddess. Not for Sasuke fans.

Posted 10 March 2019

Current WIP Chapter: 71