Disclaimer: Harry Potter  and his Mary Sue breeding ground of a universe 
is the creation of J.K Rowling.  Ranma and the crew are the creation of 
Rumiko Takahashi and I have friends who do not wear pants. In other 
words, this story is just for fun and should not be taken too seriously.

Author's note at end

Today's Fortune Cookie:
 >Harry Potter Fans:  The truth hurts but it will set you free! Set
 >you free from a meaningless fantasy world!
Oh my god you're right!!!  I have been wasting my time on this 
meaningless drivel!  What have I been doing?  How could I be so easily 
taken in?!  Now that you have shown me the light I will stop living this 
lie and concentrate on the real world around me.
What time is Survivor on?
-Post on a Message board


Humans like to talk. They formed opinions about things and stuck to 
them. Take the town of Hogsmeade, for example. It's the sole town in the 
shire of the same name, which in turn sits at the northern edge of 
Whistlestop County in northern Scotland. Not much else of note in 
Whistlestop, except perhaps Hogwarts castle.

Hogsmeade was considered populated by "weirdos" and Hogwarts...there 
were many stories about the old castle next to Tenabaum Lake, and the 
citizens of Rowena's Roost, a small township five klicks south of the 
shire's south border, knew them all. "It's worth your soul to set foot 
in that shire," they'd say while hunched over their mugs of ale. 
"Weirdos, the lot of 'em, and that castle's the devil's own, I'll tell 
the world."

Indeed, Hogwarts wasn't much to look at. Oh, it had been magnificent at 
one point, a grand fortress atop MacGarnagan Hill, nine stories tall 
from the earth to its highest point, home to scholars and warriors 
alike, or so the stories said.

But time had long since taken a hand, and the old castle now sagged and 
drooped, it's walls falling apart, the towers crumbling.

In ages past, someone had hung a sign on the gate, the only break in the 
wall which encircled MacGarnagan Hill save for where Tenabaum Lake 
guarded the castle's back. It was a rather imposing gate, wrought iron, 
with a most peculiar insignia: a shield emblazoned with a large H which 
was surrounded by a griffin, a snake, a badger, and a large bird. The 
sign wasn't much, merely a warning to keep one's distance, for the 
castle was unsafe, and could collapse without warning.

Tonight, as was common for the region, Hogwarts was being hammered by a 
storm.

It was powerful, this storm, the remnants of a "Superhurricane" that had 
already pounded the East Coast of America for several days and was now 
wearing itself out over Scotland.

The wind howled as freezing rain slashed down towards the ground, the 
sound of the drops masked as the roar of thunder boomed and lightning 
slashed across the sky. Had anyone been out in the storm and looking 
towards the gate, in one of the flashes of lightning, they might have 
glimpsed a figure crouched on the gatepost, a heavy pack on it's back 
and wriggling bundle of clothes tucked under one arm.

And when the lightning flashed again, the figure was gone.

****

Through no fault of their own, the citizens of Rowena's Roost were 
unknowingly helping to perpetuate the biggest cover up in England. For 
Hogwarts was not, in fact a run down castle, nor were the citizens of 
Hogsmeade "weirdos"

Witches and Wizards were real and Hogwarts Castle was in fact, Hogwarts 
School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, one of the three most preminent 
schools for magic in the whole of Europe and Hogsmeade was populated 
entirely by Wizards and Witches, with not a Muggle (someone who was 
non-magical) among them. Concealed behind illusion and spells that 
encouraged Muggles to find something better to do then hang around an 
old castle, Hogwarts stood proud. A thousand years and more of history 
was enclosed in it's stone walls and it was said that sometimes, if you 
stood in the halls, closed your eyes and just listened, you could almost 
hear the students of ages past.

Hogwarts was also, at least during the school year, home to Harry 
Potter. Harry was a short, skinny boy with hair that hung down over his 
forehead and round-rimmed spectacles. Even at age fifteen, he hadn't 
changed much, physically speaking, from when he had first come to 
Hogwarts four years ago.

Mentally, was another story. Tonight, as the storm raged outside, Harry 
sat listlessly at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, poking at his 
mashed potatoes with his fork.

Gryffindor was one of the four houses of Hogwarts, home to the brave and 
bold of Wizardom. Leaders and warriors, or so the house's reputation 
claimed. But for months now, Harry had felt like neither. Whenever he 
closed his eyes, he could still see Cedric falling to the ground, killed 
where he stood because the Dark Wizard known as Voldemort had decided 
that Cedric was unecessacary. A "spare".

Voldemort.

Harry's hand clenched around the fork as a white-hot surge of anger 
raged inside. It always came back to Voldemort. His best friend's sister 
Ginny had been put in danger in her first year and nearly killed. Cedric 
Diggory, who had deserved the title of Hogwarts Champion if anyone did, 
was dead. Because of Voldemort. Harry's own parents, who had sacrificed 
themselves to save his life. He stared down at the plate, his teeth 
clenched painfully in hate. All because of Voldemort. Because of a 
madman. But Harry had come to a decision over the summer. He had already 
requested the application. Come graduation from Hogwarts, Harry was 
going to become an Auror,  Dark Wizard Hunter and then Voldemort would--

The sound of the doors slamming open shook Harry from his reverie. 
Standing the doorway were two people who were quite clearly Muggles. One 
was a boy, tall, with brown hair and dressed in a white shirt, black 
pants and boots under a long black coat which was dripping water onto 
the floor. His hands were gloved and one was holding a flashlight and he 
was shining it around, a slight frown on his face.

The other was a girl, her black hair was cut short and slicked back. She 
wore loose fitting black clothing and carried a backpack that seemed 
almost too large. She was very attractive, but her expression was cold, 
and she was scowling at her companion. When she spoke, it was not in 
English, but...Harry frowned. Chinese?

"Yeah, yeah, I know," said the male muggle. "But there's something funny 
about this place. I keep feeling like we're being watched."

"You lost all marbles," she said very slowly and precisely in English. 
"Castle empty. This room empty. We only ones here. Xian know when Xian 
being watched."

"Can't they see us?" Ron Weasly whispered. Ron, a stocky, redhaired 
boy,  was Harry's best friend.

"No," said Hermione Granger. She was a plain faced girl with wildly 
bushy hair and a legendarily bossy additude. "I told you about this last 
year and the year before that, remember? It's in Hogwarts: A History. 
Hogwarts not only has spells to keep Muggles away, but is the entire 
castle has an illusion that only Muggles can see and hear. A Muggle 
could stand in the middle of the courtyard surrounded by every student 
shouting at the top of their lungs and believe that they're standing in 
the empty ruins of an old castle." She frowned. "But that of course 
assumes they could get past the spells, which they shouldn't be able to."

"That so?" the male Muggle was asking, walking down the central isle. 
"Well I'm the one with the enhanced senses, remember? And those senses 
are telling me that we're being watched."

"Not Xian's fault you paranoid."

"It's not paranoia if they're out to get you." He took a deep breath. 
"Still, maybe you're right...maybe I'm just edgy. I've never 
particularly cared for storms and--" Suddenly, he whipped around, aiming 
the flashlight's beam directly at the Slytherien table, the circle of 
light on Draco Malfoy's face, who had been glaring at the Muggles since 
they had entered. Malfoy was a slender, pale-skinned boy who was part of 
Slytherin House. He had no particular affection for Harry and Harry was 
only happy to return the favor. In fact, it was Harry's fondest wish 
that the giant squid who lived in the lake might decide to make a meal 
out of Malfoy. Not that it was likely to happen, but Harry could dream.

What made tonight even worse is that like Hermione, Malfoy wore the 
silver pin that marked the prefects, the student leaders. The notion of 
Malfoy leading anything, except perhaps a sanitation brigade, turned 
Harry's stomach.

"What?" she asked, turning back from the door.

"Not sure...thought I...felt...something..." He stared at Draco a moment 
longer. "I'm sure..." He turned away. "Come on, I saw a bunch of rooms 
off the entrance hall. We can bunk in one of them and wait out this 
storm." They left, not bothering to close the doors behind them.

Conversation gradually resumed, albeit greatly subdued.

****
The next morning at Breakfast, the students of Hogwarts filed into the 
Dining Hall, the storm still howling outside. At the front of the great 
hall, a stool sat before the High Table. Atop the stool was an old hat.

"What's the Sorting Hat doing out?" Ron asked. "I thought all the first 
years had been sorted already."

"Maybe a late arrival? Dean Thomas suggested.

"There's never been a late arrival of a first year ever," Hermione said.

The Hogwarts students took their seats and Professor Dumbledore, 
half-moon glasses gleaming in the light, rose to his feet.

"You have all no doubt noticed that the Sorting hat has been brought 
out," the old man said. "The reason is that we have a new student who 
has arrived late, a first in Hogwarts History, but as we all discovered 
during the Triwizard Tournament last year...these are indeed years for 
new things."

At that, the door opened and Professor McGonagall escorted a young woman 
dressed in school robes into the dining hall. "Its her!" Seamus Finnegan 
said. "The lady muggle from last night." Sauntering behind them came the 
male muggle, a slight smirk on his face and as McGonagall and the lady 
muggle stepped up to the High Table, he drifted over to lean against the 
wall.

"Xian," McGonagall said simply and the girl sat on the stool. McGonagall 
placed the Sorting Hat on Xian's head and almost immeditly, the Sorting 
Hat's voice rang throughout the hall. "Gryffindor!" The hall was filled 
with the student's applause.

Xian made her way over to the table and sat in the only open space 
available, next to Hermonie. Up close, Harry noticed that Xian was very 
pretty. Her dark hair was no longer slicked back, but instead styled in 
a bob and she had large, dark eyes filled with a deep pain.

"Hello," Harry said politely. Xian just stared at him for a moment, what 
almost seemed to be outrage flashing across her face, as though Harry 
had committed some horrendous act. Then the outrage vanished.

"Hello," she said and then almost jumped out of her seat as the food 
materialized on the golden plates and whispered something in Chinese.

"It gave me a shock too," said another voice and Harry looked up to see 
Cho Chang standing behind Hermione. Harry swallowed hard. Cho was from 
Ravenclaw house and she was very, very pretty. He felt his face redden, 
but thankfully, Cho was looking at Xian. Xian said something in Chinese 
that sounded like a demand, to which Cho responded with a question in 
the same language. Now it was Xian's turn to look puzzled. Cho asked 
something else and then both girls laughed.

"What are they saying?" Ron asked. Harry could only shrug.

"I don't know either," Hermione said as both boys started to look at her.

"Hermione?" Cho asked. "Xian says that Professor McGonagall said you're 
supposed to help her get settled."

"One of the joys of being a prefect," Ron said sarcastically and then 
jumped as Hermione kicked him under the table.

"Sure thing," the bushy haired girl said. "My name is Hermione," she 
said to Xian. "This is Harry and Ron." She went on making introductions.

"Hello," was all Xian said.

Harry couldn't shake the feeling that Xian did not like him.

****

As the first week went by, Harry learned that it wasn't that Xian didn't 
like him, she was offended by him. Hermione explained that where Xian 
came from in China, men were considered second-class citizens. Ron 
wasn't happy about it, ("Its gender bias, that.") and decided that 
changing her mind about men was his personal duty. It was the first time 
Harry had ever seen him put more then minimum effort into his schoolwork.

Xian, however, ignored him and spoke mostly to Hermione.

And so the days went by. Thursday was Care of Magical creatures and it 
was one of Harry's favorite classes. Mostly because it was taught by 
Hagrid.

Rubeus Hagrid was a giant among men. Literally. Easily eight or nine 
feet tall, he had wild black hair and beard which framed a kindly face 
wih black beetle eyes. Not only did he teach Care of Magical Creatures, 
but he was also the game and groundskeeper at Hogwarts.

Surprisingly, standing next to him when they arrived at his small hut 
was the male muggle, who was holding the leashes of several creatures 
that looked like a cross between a centipede and a large cat. He wore a 
sleeveless shirt and leather pants tucked into black boots.

The creatures themselves were black on the top with white underbellies. 
They had thick fur, heavy jaws and eight legs apiece. They came up 
almost to Hagrid's knees and pulled at the leashes, but not budging the 
Muggle who held tightly with both hands.

"Right," Hagrid said. "Gather 'round."

"What's that doing here?" Draco Malfoy drawled and pointed at the Male 
Muggle. "I thought this was supposed to be a school for wizards, not a 
garbage dump."

"Mind yerself, Malfoy," Hagrid said. "This here is Ken Hidoda, 
Dumbledore hired 'im on as me assistant and yer to treat 'im just like a 
teacher." Hagrid took one of the leashes from Ken and stepped forward so 
that the students could see. "This here is a Trainth. Very rare. Goblins 
used them ta carry soldiers for their clan wars way back. Now this is a 
kitten. Full grown, it wouldn't fit in the Great Hall.  They get to be 
quite big, Trainths. These days, they keep the mountain dragon colonies 
in line. Not many dragons kin best a full grown Trainth."

Ron raised his hand. "If these are kittens, where's the mother?" If Ron 
sounded slightly apprehensive, Harry couldn't blame him. Hagrid had a 
certain blind spot when it came to creatures most would term dangerous. 
He had raised a giant spider while still a teenager and in Harry's first 
year, had tried to raise a dragon in his hut. Neither Harry or Ron would 
have put it past him to stumble across the kittens and try to play mommy.

"Back there in the Forest," Hagrid replied. "Poor thing came down out of 
the mountains fer some reason and collapsed. Must be sick. Perfessor 
Dumbledore asked me to raise the kittens till she's back on her feet." 
He scratched the kitten on the head and it closed its eyes and made a 
rumbling purring noise. "So what we're gonna do is let them get to know 
us. Everyone split up into threes an fours and take a leash. Don't make 
any sudden moves, now, just let it get used to you."

Harry, Hermione, Ron and Xian took one of the leashes and almost 
immeditly were nearly jerked off their feet as the Trainth suddenly 
lunged forward towards the castle. Only by digging in their heels, did 
they manage to keep it from dragging them across the glass.

"How the bloody hell did he hold eight of them?" Ron gasped as the cat 
suddenly began pawing at something in the grass. "We can barely hold on 
to this one!"

"He stronger then he looks," Xian said.

Harry and Ron stared at her, it was the first time Xian had spoken to 
either of them without being directly asked.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"He is freak," Xian said and then refused to answer any more questions.

****
In his long life, the man known as Albus Dumbledore had learned the art 
of making his face do exactly what he told it to do. A slightly vacant, 
stern expression mixed with a bit of kindness was the perfect rapier to 
slip into the chain mail of fussy politicians, relcaniant students, or 
whatever else the headmaster of Hogwarts might deal with in the course 
of his duty.

However, no mask was perfect and it slipped for a moment when, one 
afternoon, two weeks into the school year, Minerva McGonagall burst into 
his office, her expression one of apoletic fury. In her hand was a sheaf 
of photos. Normally the very personification of control and authority, 
it was unusual, to say the least, to see her in any state of extreme 
emotion.

"Headmaster! Do you have any idea what is loose in the school at this 
very moment?" She slapped the photos on the desk. Dumbledore picked one 
up and a eyebrow raised.

"You divined Young Mister Hidoda, I presume?"

"Yes!" McGonagall almost shrieked. She grabbed another photo. "Bones of 
some kind of metal no one can identify, engraved with Runes in what 
looks like Elvish. Muscles that if I didn't know better, I would swear 
were made of mithril, a metal, Albus, that does not exist in this 
universe. Gears and some kind of motor for joints. And an aura that, if 
Sybil Trelawny is to be believed, is not only human, but bear, wolf, 
jackrabbit, ape and hawk along with a few other creatures that she 
couldn't identify. He's not human, Headmaster, and he's a threat to the 
students."

"One might also say the same thing about the house-elves, or even 
Hagrid," Dumbledore said quietly. McGonagall's rage vanished immeditly 
and her face took on a guilty expression.

"I'm-I'm sorry, Headmaster. I--" Dumbledore raised a hand.

"I know, Minerva." He picked up one of the photos and studied the runes. 
"I will, however admit that this is curious."

At that moment there was a sharp crack and a strange creature appeared 
next to the desk holding a tray. It was short, with large, floppy ears 
and big round eyes. It wore dark black shorts and a white tunic stamped 
with the Hogwarts logo over the left breast. On its feet were mismatched 
socks in painfully bright colors.

"Your lunch, Sir," the house elf said, laying the tray on the desk.

"Thank you, Dobby," Dumbledore said and then paused. "Ah, Dobby?"

"Yes, sir?"

"What do you make of this?" He held the photos out to Dobby. The 
dimmunitive creature took the photos, barely looked at them and let out 
a shriek of horror.

"SUNE!" Dobby dropped the photos and backed away rapidly.

"What's a Sune?" McGonagall asked.

"Bad, Miss," Dobby said quietly. "Very bad. Worse then Dark Lord in some 
ways." He came forward and picked up the photos in trembling hands. 
"They weapons, Miss. High Elf magic...Dark, High Elf magic. Dark Ones 
used them to hunt enemies. Sunes not bothered by sun or cold iron like 
they were. They killed many of us, Miss. Bad times. Very bad times for 
us house-elves."

"So they're golems?"

"Oh no, Miss, much worse then golems. Dark Ones took humans and changed 
them, Miss. Maybe took their souls as well. They no need master to think 
for them." Dobby trembled violently. "They resistant to magic too. We 
had to use hands and weapons to fight them. House-elves not good at 
fighting without our magic."

"That explains a great deal," Dumbledore mused.

"How resistant?" McGonagall demanded. "What are they capable of?"

"Strong as stone, fast as wind. Can leap like rabbit and conjure fire 
and lightning in hands  that is all Dobby knows, Miss. Though Dobby's 
grandfather once did say he watched one be set on fire, and the sune 
healed before his eyes. Tis what led to our enslavement. Your Ministry 
destroyed them, Miss, and their makers. Our price for our servitude. Was 
not easy. Stories say Sunes immune to even..." the house-elf's voice 
dropped to a whisper. "even unforgivable curses..."

"That's impossible!" McGonagall burst out. "The Crucio and the Imperius 
can be defended against with some planning, but nothing alive can 
withstand the Avada Kedavra."

"Harry did," Dumbledore pointed out. "If Dobby is correct and these 
Sunes are in fact part golem, it could give them the needed protection. 
You cannot kill a machine, after all. Thank you Dobby."

"You're welcome, Sir," Dobby said and vanished.

"Albus, we must do something. What if You Know Who made him?"

"You fail to take Voldemort's predjuces against Muggles and Nonhumans 
into account, Minerva. In any case, the Sunes served the Dark Ones, and 
the High Elves have always preffered to stay out of human conflicts. I 
believe Mister Hidoda was telling the truth about why he and Miss Xian 
were here. Time, I think, will prove me right." With that, the aged 
Headmaster reached for the pot. "Would you like some tea?"

****
Author's note: No, Ken is not an SI or Mary Sue. I don't expect anyone 
to believe that since most believe that OC=SI/MS, but I figured I'd try 
anyway. I don't know if this should be listed as a crossover since the 
Crew won't actually appear until a few chapters in. However, since 
Xian/Shamps is present, I thought It would be best to play it safe.

-Steve "Komodo" T.
http://livejournal.com/users/pandoras_closet
http://livejournal.com/community/aberdawnknights



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