Chapter 2: Uncle Hidan's Influence at Work

Chapter 2: Uncle Hidan's Influence At Work

A week later, Hari had managed to do his shopping, a good bit of learning, and made a shopping list he intended to fill before going home. The library had been full of fascinating books. He was truly in awe. He also had a trunk filled with random books that had looked interesting.

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.

X

X

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."

X

X

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.

He didn't bother getting into a boat and just trotted along beside them on the surface of the lake. Uncle Kisame had explained that boats were for civilians. Uncle Hidan had further explained that this meant "pussy bitches". Since Hari wasn't a civilian, that meant he didn't use boats except for water that would be stupid to try and cross. Like Snow country. Even Uncle Kisame would use a boat there to avoid becoming a sharkcicle.

Hari had to admit that the castle did look pretty impressive, but considering he'd seen Uncle Pein cut loose . . . well, he didn't think Uncle Pein was actually a god, but he could understand why people made the mistake. Compared to that, it was just a big pile of rock.

On the wharf, he stood there, waiting with the rest when the woman who had creeped out Uncle Kisame brought them inside. While they were waiting, he ducked out of the way of a jabbing finger.

"You!" The one with the bushy hair was vibrating with indignation. "You said you were a seventh year!"

"Yes. And I also told you I had a glandular problem. I lied. It got you to go away, didn't it?"

"Why did you lie?"

"Because I wanted you to fuck off. I still do." Hari turned to face her, his eyes hidden behind the curtain of black hair he allowed to grow out. "So please be quiet."

The girl instead went on a tirade that only ceased when ghosts came through the wall. Hari wasn't surprised by them, since he'd seen them coming, but had been surprised that they were actually ghosts and could bypass walls. That wasn't normal. He had to know how they did it.

Before she could begin again, the woman came back and ushered them into the large room with all the students. It was interesting to see how the chatter changed on school grounds. They spoke more about gossip and less about plots. Certainly, the two who had been central in the plotting of several of those escapades were instead discussing the stars for a class later in the year.

Hari watched as a hat was placed on a stool. Apparently this was some sort of sacred ritual used to determine the fates of children throughout life. He was fairly certain that this was one of the stupider ways it could be done. Wait, was it singing? That was really odd. And one of the adults had a foreign chakra network on the back of his head. How strange. Hari was pretty sure he remembered his father saying he'd had something similar on his forehead. Perhaps it was a common condition? He'd ask the medic.

The Sorting (and it had a capital letter to it) continued peacefully until, "Potter, Harry." The uptick in mutters was more interesting since he could read them. Three tables mostly were curious and one table mostly wished he would die right there.

"Potter, Harry!" The woman stormed over. "That's you."

"Hm? Oh! Right. You people are weird. I was expecting to hear my real name first, since you guys were doing everything out of order."

"What?"

"Well, you people are disrespectful and use given names first and treat family names as something separate, so I thought you were going by that and so was expecting that you'd skipped me."

"What? You know something? No. Just go put the hat on." The woman's voice grew clipped.

"Fine, fine." Hari trotted over and dropped the hat on his head. It didn't even settle before screaming "SLYTHERIN!"

The room went silent. Into it came, "Damn it!" The words echoed through the hall. Hari plucked the hat from his head and dropped it on the stool as he rose. "I guess it was to be expected." He shrugged and trotted over to the table of silver and green.

The whispers started up about the time he got to the table and found that there were suddenly no seats. So he slipped his hands between two students and moved them apart to take a place on the bench.

"We don't want you here, Potter," hissed one of the boys he'd moved aside. In the background, the Sorting had started up again, with the stern lady's voice shaking a bit.

"Why ever not?" Hari looked at the larger boy. He was easily half again Hari's height and weight and was glowering down at the trim figure with long, black hair.

"Are you stupid?" snapped another as someone was sorted into Hufflepuff.

"No," Hari smiled over at the dark-haired boy who'd spoken. "Perhaps you could explain?"

"You killed the Dark Lord."

"I'm sorry, you'll have to be more specific," replied Hari mildly. "I know my tally isn't up to my father's, or even my uncles', but I have killed quite a few people. Which one did you have in mind?"

"The Dark Lord," growled the first one to speak. "The greatest wizard of all time."

"No, I don't remember him."

"You were an infant at the time, of course you don't remember it!" That was from Malfoy, Draco. Hari remembered him as the idiot who'd asked if he had seen Harry Potter.

"I killed someone when I was an infant?"

"You were one," spat Malfoy.

"My dad is going to be so jealous. I've gotta tell Uncle Hidan!" For some reason, the rest of the students at the table stared at him oddly. "My father's a legend and he didn't kill anyone until he was six!" And this explanation didn't seem to be clearing things up. On the upside, people decided to be quiet for a bit.

The odd old man, Dumbledore, Hari recalled, stood up. He was rather pale and stumbled over his words for a moment as he looked at Hari. "So, I have a good number of announcements to make, but we're all hungry, so it can wait until after we've eaten. Nitwit, Blunder, Oddity, Freak. Thank you." He waved his hand and food began to appear in the middle of the tables.

Hari glared at it. "What is this stuff?"

Several of his erstwhile housemates looked at him. "Food?"

"This isn't food. This is what happens if you let an instant ramen cook loose on the world. Is there anything vaguely resembling nutrition in any of this?" He picked up a fork (a device he'd only come into contact with in the past week) and prodded what appeared to be a giant lump of meat that had been drenched in its own fat. He'd been living in London for the past week and had found that the joys of a migrant community meant that he'd had access to at least some real food.

He sat back and watched as those around him began to eat with what could only be described as "gusto". Uncle Hidan ate that way. So did Uncle Kakuzu sometimes. Uncle Zetsu as well, but his father had explained that Uncle Zetsu was a special case. Instead, Hari occupied himself with reading the lips of those around him.

It was quite disturbing to discover that approximately all of the conversation in the whole hall involved him and his sorting. For some reason, people felt that this might be a bad sign because it involved the house that had been declared "dark". Hari wasn't clear on this, but Slytherin seemed to be evil because some bad person had come out of it. Or something. No one was willing to say the name of whomever it was, so he was just guessing. He was wishing he'd read more recent history texts instead of just the history of the school and his textbooks.

The greasy bat-person up at the teachers' table made for interesting reading. There were some words that his father had said he should never use being tossed around under the man's breath. Hari wasn't clear on why the man hated him since it looked like it was about his father, and he was fairly certain his dad had never been here before, so how could it be related?

The one who made Uncle Kisame nervous was arguing with he-of-the-white-beard about whether the hat could have made a mistake. Hari was unhappy to admit that it hadn't. As much as it did not qualify as cunning to end up in the house known entirely for cunning, it made a certain amount of sense that the sorting wouldn't take that into account. It was probably sensible to stick the cunning, ambitious people (read: cutthroat sons of bitches) into one house to cut down on the bloodshed by keeping it in one place.

The rest of the conversations up there followed more along those lines. The one thing that everyone in the whole room agreed on, Hari mused, was that he should have ended up in the house of the stupid. Oh he knew from reading the history book about the school that it was called the house of the brave, but it was pretty clearly full of stupid people. Uncle Hidan would love it, though—but it probably didn't count if the person were immortal.

It was pretty boring. Except for those twins with the red hair. Those two made for interesting amusement throughout the meal. Hari didn't understand half of what they were saying, but he was able to gather they planned to prank him. That would make things interesting, at least. He would hate to get out of practice without Uncle Sasori occasionally trying to assassinate him without warning or trapping his bed. Still, he might have to curtail their activities eventually. It would depend how dull things were.

Suddenly the "food" (he was resolved to have strong words with someone over that) vanished and white-beard got up. "Now that we are fed and watered," he studiously ignored Hari's not-so-quiet snort. "I have those announcements. Firstly, Mr. Filch would like me to alert the new students that there is a full list of forbidden objects posted on his door and that, thanks to Missers Weasley, it has been expanded yet again.

"To be specific, the entire catalogue of Zonko's joke shop is now officially on the list, as are any of the products from the company that makes that rather terrific bubble gum that lets you hover for several . . . well, anyway, the list is not negotiable, I'm talking to you, Fred and George Weasley.

"In addition to the forbidden objects, the Forbidden Forest is, shockingly enough, forbidden. This, too, is not a negotiable point. Any student stupid enough to go into the Forest will not be punished, we simply won't go look for you. Considering the nature of the dwellers in the Forest, I will remind the students that they should avoid it unless they are facing their Potions final.

"Quidditch practices will be posted by your heads of house in the common rooms in two-week's time. At that point, they will no doubt begin tryouts for open positions. I remind you, and I'm speaking to Mister Malfoy here, that first years are, without exception, not allowed their own broomsticks. Those who bring them will find that they are confiscated and used to update the school's shoddy stock.

"I have one further announcement to make. This year, the rooms on the east side of the third floor are forbidden to anyone who does not wish to die a truly remarkable death. I realize that in a school of young people, some of you are certain to go exploring because of this warning, but by giving it, I am now covered as far as the board of directors is concerned. I reiterate that the rooms on the east side of the third floor are forbidden and that any student who dies as a result of ignoring this warning will be buried in the usual mass grave in back of the castle reserved for those who have thankfully removed themselves from our society before their idiocy can do too much damage. Thank you. Now, time for bed. Sleep well." Dumbledore bowed and turned, walking out the staff entrance to the hall.

Hari nodded to himself. That sounded remarkably like the sort of warnings Uncle Kisame and Uncle Kakuzu gave. And Uncle Sasori about his workshop. Of course, Hari didn't heed the warnings, but it meant he was cautious when he snuck in. On the upside, he knew what he was going to do tonight.

He rose when his housemates got up. It was a silent cavalcade that made its way through a maze of corridors down into the dungeons. Hari wondered how anyone without the Byakugan was supposed to navigate this place. As it was, he'd spotted two staircases that had moved and a door that had stopped being a door as they passed it. This was going to be fun.

A girl wearing a shiny badge on her chest muttered something to the wall and it swung aside to reveal a room filled with chairs, couches, desks, and a fireplace. "This is the common room," she said. "The password is 'Darkness'. Don't tell anyone the password. It changes weekly. Now fuck off to sleep."

Hari poked his head up the stairs on the right (the one labeled "boys") and found that each boy got his own room. He made a note of which one was his and then turned and left the common room. He'd figured that he was supposed to be in bed about now, which was just as well, since it meant no one would be looking for him. Still, best to be safe.

It took him several tries to work out what these people considered to be the third floor. He passed several students who moved with the deliberation of a patrol. But for some reason, they never looked up. It was something to consider.

Apparently the "third floor" was actually the floor half-way up from the third floor above the main entrance. It was an endless source of frustration to ninja; no two groups ever counted floors the same way and so instructions on where to find a target could result in some very interesting incidents. There was one country where they counted starting from the basement levels and Uncle Kakuzu said that the problem had been that someone had built another subbasement and the mission-notes hadn't included that. It was why Uncle Kakuzu was still forbidden in Rabbit-foot Country. They took a dim view of blowing up the infant princess.

The third floor wasn't what Hari had expected. For one thing, while there were four doors on the east side of it, three of them were currently just door-shaped parts of the wall. He could see marks on them that he guessed meant that they could be doors, but at the moment, they were not. And inside the last door . . . Uncle Pein?

Well, alright, it wasn't Uncle Pein, but there was a giant dog with three heads. That was sufficiently similar. He was going to have to write Uncle Pein to find out if someone had stolen one of his pets. He walked down the wall and opened the door. That wasn't one of Uncle Pein's. None of them barked at him. He'd take another look later; right now, he was going back to his new room to sleep.

(A/N John – Some notes)

Some of you (and I hope this is everyone) have noticed a certain cavalier attitude in Dumbledore. This is partly the result of the somewhat crack-ish nature of the story and partly a decision I came to as I was writing Dumbledore's intro-speech. I decided Dumbledore is just seeing how far he can go around the bend before someone calls him out. So far, he's disappointed in them.