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Favorites. book 1

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    Naruto wakes up in Harry's body and lives his life. The first years. Snape begins teaching Harry, who was forced on him by Aunt Petunia.

  Favorites. Book 1: What kind of a magician am I now?!
  Автор: Кицунэ Миято
  
  Day 10, the month of the Monkey, the year of the Horse of the 7th cycle of the era of Hidden Villages. Somewhere in Kentani Province, the Land of Fire
  
  It hurts so much to die. Disgusting. Especially on your own birthday. Yes... a nice end to seventeen years of a lousy life. I didn't get much done.... What were my parents thinking when they sacrificed themselves for me and for Konoha? They were thinking about me, and it turned out how it turned out....
  The villagers where I grew up hated me. However, the "demon boy" was well led and guided, not allowing my hatred to release the one who was sealed in me in infancy. Kyubi no Yoko is a nine-tailed fox demon. A fox, yes, but a demon?.. My friend's demonic nature remains a big question mark. We've seen demons with him, and Koo has almost nothing in common with them....
  Now I understand that in many ways this hatred of the inhabitants of Konoha was feigned - restrictions, threats, prohibitions. And then there is such an organization as the "Root" of the ANBU, with a staff of mentalists. They can inspire anything, if desired. I think those who could somehow make my childhood easier were not allowed near me. And now I remember so clearly that they threw food, shoes and clothes at me. They treated me stealthily in the hospital, where I constantly ended up because of beatings and fights in an attempt to become stronger. Sometimes I returned to the tidy room or found that my things had been washed. A few adults looked at me differently, but they never approached me. And then I didn't see some of them anymore....
  No wonder, as soon as I left the village or approached strangers, no one felt anything or anyone special about me. Besides, I didn't feel it myself, and I found out about my furry neighbor almost by accident. Thanks to Teacher Mizuki, he was the first to open my eyes to the injustice of the world. Not only was I an unloved orphan who was ridiculed and considered a loser by his colleagues, not allowing me to study, but I was also a jinchuuriki, and my entire chakra spent the first twelve years of my life maintaining the Demon seal that locked bijuu in me.
  Why is it only now, when I'm about to step into a Clean World, that I've begun to understand my best friend, Sasuke? His entire clan was destroyed. And no, it wasn't his older brother who did it. The politics of the village. If Sarutobi Hiruzen wasn't already dead, I would have killed him. Sandaime did everything to make jinchuuriki, that is, me, eat from his hands.
  Thoughts get confused...
  I probably don't have much left, and only the legendary vitality of Uzumaki gives me the last moments of my life.
  At least I fulfilled my promise to Sasuke.... And I know that I have real friends... were.
  The world I wanted to keep...
  It didn't work out... huh... It hurts so much...
  It seems like that strange summoning happened quite recently.
  It turns out that it's been nothing, but it feels like it was in a previous life. Before the war. Before they all died...
  A couple of days of completely civilian life, which I enjoyed. Another world and a rather cloudy country is England, where wizards lived. I spent them with Harry, and this bespectacled man became my friend, one might say a "brother in misfortune", also a Chosen one of his world, obliged to cope with someone there.
  The hero has done his job and can leave. The damn war. I wonder if he's still fucked up.. At least I had a real life with real friends, and I was even able to make friends with Koo....
  "Naruto..." Ku's voice sounds like it's coming from a long way away, and everything turns green in front of my eyes.
  "Prepare the Last Gasp, Kurama, when they're all ready... Let them know... What does it feel like... When he dies... The last Uzumaki..."
  Part 1. Chapter 1. Somewhere after...
  It is not clear what day, month and year, it is not known where
  
  I woke up, which, in general, is strange to do after a gorgeous death, when I died, taking with me a bunch of enemies. I've never been in a Pure World before.... However, it's a bummer, it can't be a Clean World. It's too crowded, dark, and the smell is peculiar. And such a disgusting emptiness inside. I don't feel hungry, and I also seem to be seriously hungry.
  Turning my tongue in my mouth, I realized that I was not me. More precisely, I may be me, but I'm kind of shallow. The front teeth were missing, and in general everything was unusual and childish. I could transform into anyone, but shadow cloning involves a flexible psyche and fantasy, like all Shinobi training, so I only felt a little confused. I also folded the seals and tried to come back to myself.
  It didn't work out. And the fingers are not too flexible. It's bad. Maybe I somehow ended up in the past. This happens all the time in our world - it's full of time caves and different dimensions. In the past, I couldn't work with the chakra.... But where can I be? Or is it some kind of alternate past? And another reality? In any case, we need to get up and go out to explore.
  As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I made out thin stripes on the sloping uneven ceiling, and also a door that led out of this nook. Maybe I hid? The last thing I remember is taking my last Breath, and then... I can't think straight on an empty stomach, so I need to get some food. And if I find a mirror here, it's a good idea to look at myself.
  Cautiously, he opened the door and slipped out of his hiding place. I found myself in a fairly large, bright house, and the place I came from was under the stairs. It looks like a two-story building. Quietly. Grayish light shone through the translucent fabric on the windows. I saw the wall clock that showed five, and I decided it was morning. I looked outside and was convinced of my assumption: dawn was breaking, the sun was about to rise. The street is completely deserted, with identical houses made of light bricks and manicured lawns and trees. The area is vaguely familiar, but definitely not Konoha. I've seen something like this before. I also have something with my eyesight, everything is kind of cloudy. I specifically seem to have been concussed.
  My stomach rumbled invitingly, and I decided that it was worth fortifying myself first, and then, a little later, I would be able to find out my location. A short circuit around the house - and there was a refrigerator in the obvious kitchen.
  There were a lot of edible things inside, but some of the products were unfamiliar. I chewed on five sausages, drank a couple of raw eggs, and sanded what I had eaten with a yellowish piece of what looked like hard, salty tofu.
  "What are you d-doing?" a woman's voice rang out at the moment when I looked into the refrigerator again to put the leftover tofu back.
  Interestingly, the question was asked in... English!
  Turning around, I saw a skinny blonde aunt in her thirties, who was staring at me with her mouth open.
  "I got hungry and ate," I replied, also in English.
  So I'm back in England?! That's why the view outside seemed familiar! I wonder where Harry is then? Did he summon me again? Just why am I in a child's body and where is my Ku?
  "Have you eaten?" aunt said this with such amazement that I suspected her of madness.
  "You're being punished! Vernon left you without dinner last night!"
  Hm... Strange. But I don't remember anything about "yesterday". My "yesterday" was on the battlefield... so. Stop. "Vernon" is a very familiar name, I've definitely heard it somewhere. And about the punishment...
  "Why don't you say something, Potter!" aunt pushed me away from the refrigerator and gasped, looking in. "You ate the sausages!"
  Yondaime my leg! Did she really call me "Potter"?!
  "Am I Harry Potter?" I asked my aunt timidly, getting cold inside. That's how you have to get in!
  "This is not the time to feign misunderstanding, Potter", She snapped back. "Go to your closet, and don't let me see you until Vernon leaves!"
  "I want to go to the bathroom," I chuckled. "Or should I do my business in the closet?"
  My aunt sniffed furiously, grabbed my forearm and dragged my baby body into a room next to the kitchen.
  "Quickly!" the command was given.
  The tiny bathroom had a small shower, toilet, and mirror. But it wasn't me who looked at me from the mirror. His hair might really be that big, but it's just as black as Sasuke's. And the eyes are not blue, but green, bright, almost like Sakura's. And the scar. I had a stupid scar on my forehead, just like a lightning strike. It looks like I've taken over Harry Potter's body somehow. By the way, bruises were found on the body itself and it was not in the best shape. A child who lives in a family should be better developed and not so skinny. I wonder how old I am. Judging by the teeth, or rather, by the holes in their place, it should be about eight or nine years old, but it looks like six or seven. Am I small again, and also a little runt?
  "Are you stuck there?" My aunt banged on the door. It looks like this is the same relative. Harry told me about her. I quickly did my chores and washed up. What's her name?
  "Petunia! Is breakfast ready?" A male bass voice from the second floor prompted me.
  "Ten more minutes!" She shouted back and almost threw me back into the closet.
  Judging by the peculiar metallic clang, I was also shut down. Someone walked across the ceiling. It looks like this "Vernon" came down the stairs and punished me.
  I listened to the family muttering in the kitchen. It seems that Vernon needs to hurry to get to work in London. It's a familiar place. I also think he read the newspaper and said that housing prices would fall and something about a bank....
  "Hey, crybaby, how's your birthday? Yesterday I heard you crying and wishing that someone would save you. If you want to speak out loud, then it will never come true, you little idiot!" Suddenly, a small child's voice was heard through a crack in the ceiling, followed by wild and rather unpleasant laughter, and someone loudly walked up the stairs, stomping heavily, I think on purpose. It looks like this is Petunia and Vernon's own child and Harry's cousin. I also didn't hear him start down the stairs, either because I was listening to what was going on in the kitchen, or... Most likely, because the body is not trained at all. Something has to be done about it.
  Oh, three tails in my liver! This kid said it was his birthday! So Harry was making a wish? Maybe his desire somehow shifted my soul into him? My body definitely died in that world, but the transfer already took place, which means that Kurama and I signed a kind of summoning contract. Maybe Koo also helped and threw me out here to live? He was muttering something about how after our merger, I have the opportunity to be reborn like bijuu. But it seems that my soul has been carried away here, to this England, to help Harry again. But still, where is he? Did he really go to the Pure World instead of me? The bruises are quite fresh. Yeah, it's a good birthday- beaten up, hungry, locked in a closet. However, mine was no better. In Konoha, it coincided with the anniversary of the Kubi attack, and I was also hiding from tipsy Shinobi and residents who were trying to take out on me the loss of their loved ones on the day I was born.
  I sat down on the cot in a meditation position and concentrated. My friend was telling that female writer about his life. It wasn't that long ago. But there is a lot of information. The clone left here seems to have lived for a very long time. Because this technique brings back the clone's memories, but the longer the clone lives, the more memories are lost, and these losses grow exponentially. I'll remember well for up to a few hours, twenty-four hours will require special meditation with the clone. A few days, even with this method, will provide only key information. I just casually felt one day that the clone had completed the task. Without any slightest details. I had just begun to more or less delve into the depths of my eventful life, trying to fish out the three days I had spent here before, when the lock clicked and Petunia-san looked into my closet.
  "Harry, go wash the dishes," she ordered. "And why is it dark, did you go to bed or something?" my aunt pulled something.
  The light in the overhead light bulb came on. It turned out that there was some kind of cord tied to the lamp, which turns on and off the lighting. I was playing with the shoelace a bit, and I noticed books and notebooks on a small table. No wonder your eyesight is bad if you have to study in a closet with a dim lamp. By the way, I also found glasses. I hesitated, then put them on. The world has sharpened up, but not as well as before.
  I'm also bespectacled now....
  I don't know who befriended me so much, Kurama or Harry, but I wanted to strangle both of them... in those very friendly hugs.
  Part 1. Chapter 2. Exploring the world and location
  August 8, 1988
  4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, England
  
  I've been watching my new family for a week. Of course, I not only observed, but also studied this world, adopted the habits and etiquette of the aborigines, what to say and do in various situations. In this sense, the family turned out to be well-mannered.
  The local calendar amazed me! Not only did it kill me last time that the years were counted from the birth of some local god, but there are also not the same number of days in the months! And in the month of the Rat, which is "February" here, there are only twenty-nine of them! The last time I was in England, in nineteen ninety-six, Harry said that he should be sixteen, which means, by simple calculations, I, in the local nineteen eighty-eight, should be eight years old.
  The day I got to Harry was the month of the Horse, which is August. It's a good thing that there are also twelve months here, like ours. But the moon is very tiny, and it was completely independent of the days in the month. For example, on the night of the first to the second of August, the full moon has just begun to wane. How do people generally navigate here? Is it really only on pieces of paper with numbers and calendars with kittens?
  I learned written English in a week. It turned out to be such a simple language! I already knew some of the letters, but then there are almost no hieroglyphs or signs there - you can hear and write, only a couple of sounds are a combination of two or three letters. Beauty! One bad thing is that the records are very long.
  He taught me the local writing and reading of Dudley Kun. He was so surprised by my request that he agreed.
  I actually noticed one oddity. Individually, the Dursleys are pretty good. If you follow certain rules, you can negotiate with them. Aunt Petunia gave me extra food if I asked, and allowed me to practice in the garden after I had loosened the flower beds and pulled out the weeds. The D-rank missions here are quite simple, and I handled them easily, even in such a small body.
  I said once that I would shrink my T-shirts and sew them myself, so Aunt Petunia took out a thing she called a "sewing machine" and sewed my clothes with it to make them fit. Uncle Vernon let me help him. I enjoyed drilling holes when he tried out his tools, which he turns out to produce.
  The sound of the drilling drill sounded like the chidori and rasen-shuriken techniques at the same time, and I was struck by nostalgia.
  My cousin Dudley turned out to be a good tutor, and in at least six days I began to read quite well, not only in syllables, but also to write, even if not as fast as cursive in my native language.
  The Dursleys tolerated me and were quite in control of themselves individually. But that's when they got together... It feels like something was wrong with this family. As soon as the four of us were in the same room, they were almost sick with irrational hatred for me. They said nasty things. They swore. They could have punished me for something. It was very strange. It's so strange that I suspected magic or some kind of interference, drugs or mentalism. However, my friend Ino told me something about her clan and some of their techniques. And Harry mentioned that there is something similar in the wizarding world.
  Over the past week, through meditation, I have practically restored those three days from nineteen ninety-six and what Harry told that writer. The key points and your thoughts about them are for sure. It was difficult for Harry to look at his family from the outside, he hated them in return, but there was clearly something wrong. And my feeling of "wrong" screamed no worse than my uncle's drills.
  Vernon-san left for work, and Dudley went out with his friends. I decided to talk to Aunt Petunia. Actually, I liked the woman. She may be insecure with her "cockroaches", but you won't find such people among Shinobi. Jiraiya taught me not only fuinjutsu and ninjutsu, but also the keys to human souls. Especially for women.
  It turned out that my aunt should know that Harry, that is - I am a wizard. Since her sister is a sorceress.
  If you compare it with my world, then there are also Shinobi aristocrats from Great clans, that is, wizarding aristocrats, such as Harry's father and his godfather Sirius, as far as I understand. There are hereditary Shinobi, that is, whose parents were part of the military caste, here they are simple, ordinary wizards. There were Shinobi, the children of townspeople or peasants, who had a sufficiently developed chakrosystem to enter the warrior class, but more often such a first generation could at best become genins. In the magical world, they are called "Muggleborns." Because non-wizards are called "Muggles." It seems that the synonym for "wizard" will also be "magician", probably about the same as "shinobi" and "ninja" - some kind of different interpretation*. ("Shinobi no Mono" is a spy, spy, infiltrator and assassin in medieval Japan. "shinobu" - to hide, to hide; to endure, to endure + ?? "mono" is a suffix of people and professions. When "shinobi-no-mono" is shortened to the first and last hieroglyphs [??] there is a reading of "ninja".)
  There will be similar divisions in any world where people have something different from the majority.
  My mother is from the Great Uzumaki Clan, and my father is rumored to be from the townspeople. However, no one dared to assert, since he was an orphan and was able to become Hokage, that is, the strongest and most respected warrior of our hidden village. I am a half-breed Uzumaki. Harry's situation is similar, only his father is an aristocratic magician, and his mother is a "Muggle-born".
   When a Shinobi appears in a peasant family, it is like a Rikudo-sennin blessing for such a family. By sending their son or daughter to serve in a gakurezato or garrison, such a family will receive some privileges, tax exemption for a while and, most importantly, protection. Here, the family in which the magician appears does not seem to receive anything. Unless he finds out that magic exists. Here it is perceived as incredible miracles. But something tells me that there will be a lot of work and training behind such a "miracle." Harry seemed to have been studying for five years, but he couldn't even clean his clothes with his magic.
  Harry said his aunt thought he and his parents were "crazy." I haven't had any such conversations yet. I know from Ino's stories that mental intervention works in a peculiar way, pulling out and reinforcing existing feelings. As if you were annoyed, then you can be "inflamed" to hatred, and if there were no bad feelings and emotions towards any person or phenomenon, then no matter how hard you try, you will not be able to cause negativity.
  So calmness and cold calculation prevail. On the other hand, most of the feelings that Shinobi show are fake. If you get really angry in battle, it can cause you serious problems in the form of losing control of the situation, and this can be fatal. However, in my case, when I was small and could be intemperate, Kuby was happy to "connect" to me. "Fox Obsession" is intoxicating. But then the withdrawal is such that you would not wish the enemy. And after meeting the "Dark Naruto", I revised a lot in my life. In general, zen is our everything.
  The psychotropic drugs that I used also have properties similar to mental effects. Maybe even stronger, but it's really easier to start with something that already exists. In order for a person to start trusting you completely, you need to win them over first. Sometimes I could do it without the stimulants. Jiraiya said that I have the charisma and talent to "talk people down" that I inherited from my father.
  So, returning to Petunia-san, most likely, she was a little jealous of her sister, who found herself in a magical world of wonders and sweet gingerbread. But then... Then Harry's parents were killed, and he himself, a "half-blood aristocrat boy", was sent to a "peasant" family who, at best, had only heard of magic out of the corner of their ears. Despite the fact that Harry was adored by everyone in absentia and almost idolized as Rikudo-sennin.
  I grew up in general dislike, to put it mildly. And they didn't want to teach me anything at the Academy. But I knew almost from the cradle that I was a Shinobi, I grew up in a village full of Shinobi, dreamed of becoming a Shinobi and did everything possible and impossible to develop my body and learn how to use the chakra. I spied on other people's workouts, repeated the exercises. If only I had a teacher sooner and he wasn't such a depressing bastard like Kakashi-sensei....
  But anyway, by the age of twelve, I knew several techniques, knew how to fight, and developed a system of behavior in which I was less bullied by others. And Harry, at the age of eleven, was hit on his scarred forehead with a dust bag: "You, brother, are a wizard and all, get ready for school Hogv-somehow."
  And the kid doesn't even know which side of the magic wand to hold. And behind all this is Director Higekane*, who has Sarutobi Hiruzen's benevolent smile on his face. ("Higekane" - loosely translated from Japanese, can be translated "beard with bells". Naruto couldn't remember long and complex "tooth-crushing" English surnames and came up with nicknames.) When Harry told his story, I was amazed at the connivance of their superiors. But it was worth "digging deeper", finding yourself in the shoes of an eight-year-old wizard who was abandoned in a Muggle family, as the story began to sparkle with new colors.
  I carefully found out that the Dursleys don't give me any allowance or lifting fees, so it's not surprising that I'm wearing rags, which are pretty decent in principle, I had worse ones. My appetite is no less than Dudley's, or vice versa - I eat so much and am always hungry because of my chakra magic, and a simple kid like that also turns on Harry, that is, me, looking. Are parents going to give their own blood less than a starved-looking boy eats?
  That's why "Dadlipusicek" is such a cheeky "pussy". Vernon always grumbles at dinner that I overeat them. Well, yes, my portion is like my uncle's, a healthy man, and after eating, I almost lick the pans - I'm hungry. Not to say that the "orphan" feeds on air, but it looks like it looks like it has only green eyes under glasses.
  I feel sorry for myself, yeah. I can't look in the mirror without crying.
  But then there's the big "but" again - Harry and I went to the bank, and he has his own account and stuff. This means that his family had money and there must be someone who is obliged to take care of such a "golden boy" - the hero of the magical world. Sasuke was left without parents and a clan at the age of eight, but he seemed to have some kind of guardian, the head of the clan's accounts, he gave money for maintenance and expenses. Sasuke was assigned to an apartment away from the Uchiha quarter, so as not to disturb his soul, and he ate...
  Well, in general, it's weird too. The type of Hero they keep in a "black body" so that the magical world into which he gets after eleven years of shit seems like a fairy tale, where he is the main character who is obliged to kill the Universal Evil. Oh, shit! Bi-san and I weren't even allowed into the war that was started because of our possession. And here's a kid who's been fighting in earnest for a year with an adult, an experienced wizard who no one could take down. Uh-huh.
  In general, it's time to find out the answers to some questions and assumptions, and I decided to start with Aunt Petunia, as the most accessible source of information for me at the moment.
  Part 1. Chapter 3. These are the pies...
  August 8, 1988
  4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, England
  
  "Aunt Petunia, can I help you?" I suggested cautiously. She laid out the groceries on the table, clearly considering what to cook. The crease on her forehead smoothed out.
  "Yes, I want to make a kidney pie. Peel the potatoes and cut them into semicircles. I'll take care of the giblets for now."
  We were silent for a while, doing our job. She took the kidneys out of the water, rinsed them, and began to cut them into pieces. Finally, I felt that Petunia-san had entered a state of some kind of peace that happens to women when they cook.
  "Aunt," I broke the silence, "tell me, don't you notice something strange around?"
  "What exactly do you find strange, Harry?" She looked up at me warily. Well, well, it seems that if there is any mental influence, it is associated with everything "strange", "magical".
  "Our family is like a little enchanted," I tried to look naive. "The same Dudley is such a good boy, we study in his room, he taught me how to read well. And yesterday he said some nasty things to me after dinner. He almost cried about it today. He said he didn't know what had gotten into him."
  Petunia pursed her lips, but she was clearly thinking about something.
  "But don't worry, I'm not offended by Dudley, he didn't do it on purpose," I continued the careful processing. "I understand that our family is having a hard time. My uncle's business is not going well, and I still have to pay off my debts to the bank for the house, right?
  "Yes, a loan," she blinked in surprise.
  Unlike Harry, I know the value of money and how difficult it can be to live when you don't have enough money. Nothing comes from nowhere. Everything has to be bought, everything has to be paid for. My uncle, when I was helping him in the garage, happily babbled about his company, extortionate taxes, and house expenses. The cost of the car he drove to London, the price of petrol, school fees for Dudley and me. In general, we live, not particularly posh, but in a nice, quiet area. They spend an extra pound on their child, and Vernon dreams that "his son doesn't need anything and Dudley has what he didn't have." Vernon is older than Aunt Petunia and was born after some local war. He told me that he was starving, and "everything happened." He also comes from a family of ordinary workers and "made his own business".
  Basically, the Dursleys are pretty understandable people. Decent enough not to kick an orphan into an orphanage, but trying to save a little money. On the other hand, we feed at the same table and eat the same food, except that Dudley sometimes gets too many sweets. But I can't say that he eats only cakes every day, as I remember from Harry's story. Rather, by contrast, they didn't require housework from their own child and gave them a little more freedom, this provokes childish resentment and it seems that the world is biased and unfair.
  I'm well aware of how shitty life can be. Having had enough of loneliness and hatred, I even enjoy living in this family. I guess if I was loved by being licked from head to toe, like Dudley sometimes is, I'd be very uncomfortable. As it is, a slight level of hostility and alienation suits me perfectly. And it seems to me that this has changed over the past week. Maybe because I started offering help myself? Is there a lot of work in a house with three bedrooms, a guest room and a kitchen with a living room? And the local lawn is not very big, you need to make sure that no weeds appear, and Petunia takes care of the flower beds herself, except that I water them. And Vernon-san somehow became less drunk that I was just sitting in my pants for nothing.
  "Oh, and I eat so much," I sighed. "But I would eat less, but I'm always hungry...."
  My aunt chuckled.
  "Yes... Lily was always hungry, too, and she was always nibbling...." She stopped, and I realized that this was Petunia talking about Harry's mother and her sister.
  "It's probably something from the family," I continued carefully, as if treading on water for the first time, trying not to break the fragility of the moment. "You're also very thin and graceful. She's also very beautiful", Carefully pumping the color into my face, I asked: "Was your sister as beautiful as you, Aunt Petunia?"
  She looked away, confused, and blinked rapidly.
  "Your mother was very beautiful, Harry." Petunia-san sobbed. "But... I don't have any pictures of her left. When she... When was the last time Lily was at home... She took all her photos, all her things.... And I was very afraid. It was as if she was running from something or someone, or didn't want us to remember her. The last time I saw her was when I was three months pregnant," my aunt mused. She stopped by... After my father's funeral... Your and Dudley's grandfather... he didn't survive the death of your mother... grandmother. Yes, that was the last time I saw her. We had a fight with her because she didn't come to the funeral. I'm sorry, it's hard to remember...."
  "Nothing, sorry to bring up the subject, Aunt Petunia", I nodded. "Losing loved ones is very hard. It's a pity that I didn't know my grandparents, I'm sure they were good people."
  "Yes, yes," she replied absently. "I'll fry the potatoes, and you peel and chop the onion into half rings, please."
  I concentrated on peeling and then slicing a large onion head.
  Very interesting facts are being revealed. Could it be that Lily herself worked on the mental impact of the Dursley family? Assuming that there was a war going on in the wizarding world, in which, according to Harry, the main victims of the Dark Villain were Muggles and Muggleborns... Maybe the death of Lily and Petunia-san's parents wasn't an accident? And if she did, she only spurred Harry's mother to drastic actions. In fact, this is how she "cut herself off" from her relatives, sort of "quarreling", protecting her sister's family from the war. They might have known this on the "dark side", but in the organization that included Lily and Harry's father, they might have thought that everything was fake, without serious magic. Either not to know about Lily's plans at all, or not to go into details. As far as I understood, many there were "hereditary Shinobi" and could simply not expect something complicated or tricky from "yesterday's peasant woman". But women tend to protect their family....
  Then maybe Director Higekane's actions have some meaning. And this "protection" came into conflict with the presence of a wizard in this family, that is, me. However, this does not negate the lack of financial assistance to this family. Damn, there's very little data. You can make thousands of assumptions. Maybe this way, or maybe that way, or maybe I won't figure out how at all, just because I don't know the world, the local culture, and even less the traditions of magicians very well.
  By the way, I'm not sure if I'm going to be a magician. It's likely that all this magic is tied to the soul, and I'm Naruto Uzumaki, not Harry Potter. However, I don't feel the chakra either, but I meditate and try to discover something about myself every day for several hours before going to bed. Morning warm-up in the garden under the cover of trees, so that the neighbors do not see, brings so far only greater flexibility and strengthening of the body, but with the passage of the chakra, everything is deaf. I've never felt so empty.
  "Everything is ready," I showed the sliced onion. It's good that the glasses protect against corrosive fumes, but it still stung my eyes a little.
  "Cut more bacon into small pieces, the size of your little finger", Petunia-san looked up for a minute from the frying pan on which the potatoes were frying.
  ***
  Our joint pie turned out to be very tasty. Under the layer of baked dough was chopped meat with fried potatoes, giblets and sauteed onions.
  During dinner, my aunt watched the family closely, apparently, my words hit the mark. But the whole point of mentalism, like any genjutsu, is that it affects you until you notice. Once you start calibrating or questioning the reality of what's happening, you're already halfway out of the trap.
  "My son, you're doing so well", Petunia praised Dudley. "Harry said you're helping him improve his English. You're a smart girl. I'm proud of you. And I'm glad you're getting along well with your cousin."
  Dudley beamed with satisfaction, reminding me of Cheji in my childhood. I winked back at him and felt strangely light-headed. Literally.
  "Ay-ay-ay, what's wrong with me?" I squeaked, almost losing my glasses. I had to jump up a couple of meters, but I didn't just fly like a balloon yet. The Dursleys were staring at me with their mouths slightly open.
  "Potter, come down immediately!" Vernon-san almost lost his composure and growled.
  "And how?" I asked, waving my arms stupidly, trying to land.
  "Grab it!" Dudley handed me the handle of Dudley's broom, and I was pulled to the floor.
  Pale Petunia-san poured herself some water with trembling hands and drank it noisily. It seems that such a vivid "performance" in front of the whole family happened for the first time. And here I inadvertently shook the family skeletons.
  "How did you do it?" My cousin asked me.
  "I don't know," I answered honestly, gripping the chair tightly. And we all locked eyes on Aunt Petunia. Well, I wonder how she's going to get out of it, and how my fate will change now in a family that's been... enchanted by aversion to magic?.. It's a good thing I had dinner, otherwise I don't want to be punished on an empty stomach at all...
  Part 1. Chapter 4. Decisions and Promises
  August 8, 1988
  4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, England
  
  Surprisingly, they didn't punish me. Instead of locking her in the closet under the stairs, as she had done a couple of times over the past week when my family started talking about me, my aunt took a deep breath, as if preparing to dive under water, and gave Vernon-san and Dudley-kun:
  "HarrytheSorcererasahealer.
  I didn't even understand what she said, but I wasn't the only one.
  "What's that?" Uncle's reddish eyebrows shot up.
  "Is Harry a wizard?" Dudley heard better. "A real magician? Wow!"
  Uncle gave a strange sob and clutched at his heart. Calm down, darling! Petunia-san pulled herself together and jumped up to her husband, who was sickened by the news. Like Dudley, I was seriously worried about his health. But if my cousin was foolishly fussing, then I felt a strange warmth in my chest, and a stream of tap water flew up to Vernon, wheezing, and poured onto the top of his head.
  From such a shower, my uncle abruptly came to life and did something like "brr-brr-brr", making funny movements with his wide mustache, which I really liked. The disguise is excellent, if you need to hide, you can shave them off and no one will recognize him.
  "I'll clean it up!" I quickly picked up a rag and wiped the puddle on the kitchen floor.
  "Dad, are you feeling better?" Dudley asked.
  "Yes," Vernon-san replied in a hollow voice, because he was just drying himself with a towel.
  I didn't shine, fused with the chair, waiting for the verdict of the family. Still, it's hard for them to understand my peculiarities, and I think it's difficult for an ordinary normal family to cope with a child around whom something is happening, and uncontrolled by the child himself. Of course, those who can control the chakra often feel much stronger than others, there is a side effect of "power". But mostly, a Shinobi approaches chakra control between the ages of eight and twelve, if we don't talk about clan geniuses like Uchiha Itachi or Hyuga Neji. That is, we do not have such "surprises", in order to do something "like this", you need to work hard and try. To control the chakra, you need to develop discipline: regular exercises, special breathing exercises, and meditation. All this doesn't really come out at a young age, or rather, not at all. Shinobi are considered adults from the moment they receive the genin protector, and this may be at the age of ten. In addition, the education of clan children begins at the age of three, and they are accepted to the Academy from six. So it's useless to compare an eight-year-old Dudley-kun with me or Sasuke of the same age.
  It bothers me a little that I couldn't control the processes that were happening to me almost every few minutes. First he flew, then he controlled the water. Maybe I had chakro before that... or rather, mago exhaustion, and then everything came back abruptly? Assuming Harry used his childhood magic to draw my soul into his body? The last time he "summoned a demon," I remember he was sluggish and said he had spent too much energy on summoning. What if such things happened all the time? I think if there was a child in my family who could take off and fly, or set fire to hair, or make kunai spin in the air, I would be very nervous. Especially if you weren't a Shinobi. What if this child injures someone close to me? Will he betray me to everyone else? Here, the option of bullying and protecting "normal people" from this child is not the worst, in my opinion. It's not scary what a little wizard can do, it's scary that he doesn't understand the harm he can do to others.
  I once seriously injured Sakura with my chakra when I released the veil of bijuu. The problem is that you don't remember or control yourself at all in this state. Such is the price of power. Sakura is a first-class medical ninja, but it took her a long time to remove the ugly burn with poisoned chakra. But she was stubbornly silent, she didn't want to upset me that I had done this to her. It's good that the captain told me. I looked at this problem from a different angle. It's not enough, it's extremely small to be strong. We must be responsible for this power.
  "Vernon, you should lie down," Petunia-san ordered. "Dudley, baby, please keep an eye on Daddy and sit with him."
  My uncle gave me a thoughtful look, but listened to his wife and they stomped up to the second floor together with their silent cousin.
  My aunt took another deep breath, smoothed out the wrinkles on her dress, and resolutely sat down opposite me.
  "Harry, you probably have some questions. Ask me," she said.
  "Won't you kick me out?" I asked, embarrassed. An urgent question in the light of recent events.
  "No, we can't," my aunt looked away.
  "I'll try not to do that anymore. I'll try to control it." I blurted out, biting down on the "if I weren't Naruto Uzumaki." After all, a child's body and the chance to be a child in the family in general have slightly pushed back my critical perception.
  "I don't think you can do it," Petunia-san shook her head. This happened to Lily sometimes, though not on such a large scale and quite rarely. She could revive a wilted flower or the falling leaves in the garden turned into butterflies.... One day I was badly scratched, I started bleeding, she was afraid for me and the wound healed instantly. You have the same... When they brought you in, you were crying all the time. Neither toys nor songs helped. In addition, objects were flying around the bedroom, and the curtains were smoldering.... I was... really scared for Dudley and for Vernon. As a result, the exit was... a closet under the stairs. On the second floor, where Vernon and I have a bedroom and Dudley's room, they could see it or get hurt.... I've set up a room for you downstairs. You calmed down quickly in the dark. Besides, I wasn't afraid that a small child would suddenly fly up and fall out of the window. After you moved to the first floor, the magical emissions almost stopped.
  "I see," I muttered. The mystery of the closet is solved. "But I'll try anyway." And Naruto promised that no one from his family would get hurt.
  "That would be great," Petunia-san forced a smile, and I saw that she was barely holding on. On a hunch, I went up to her and hugged her, still half expecting to be pushed away. As a child, no one hugged me, and even a light touch on my head was akin to a miracle. She sobbed and squeezed tightly, hugging.
  "You have her eyes," my aunt whispered dully. "Like Lily's. My little sister was swallowed up by the wizarding world. She enjoyed the miracles she could do, she enjoyed studying at the magic school, she studied very well there.... And then she was killed. She's only twenty-one years old. So young. Naive, trusting, in love with that Potter daddy of yours. And now you're going to be taken to their Hogwarts....
  My aunt pulled back and blinked quickly, holding back the tears that had not been shed. So much for your insensitive evil relatives. Could it be that, motivated by the fact that Harry was doomed anyway, his aunt preferred not to notice him and concentrated her love on her own son? Oh, human psychology is peculiar. But I don't think it did anything good for either the "unloved" Harry or the "overly-loved" Dudley. However, if Petunia-san started talking about Harry's mother, it means that she probably overcame or removed the enchantment or mental influence.
  "Tell me, Aunt Petunia, do you know any wizard or sorceress my parents know who could help us with my problem of controlling this magic?" I asked a very interesting question. "If you and Uncle Vernon aren't wizards, then we're all lucky that something terrible didn't happen today. But I didn't even understand why it all happened. That's why I flew. Or why the water started flowing."
  My aunt thought about it.
  "Lily hardly introduced me to any of them...." she frowned, and then smiled a little. "Oh, yes, Severus! The boy lived next door to us in Cokworth, and he was also a wizard and explained a lot to Lily.... Perhaps that's why she didn't have too strong and destructive emissions. Later, Lily said that she was friends with him at school, although they studied at different faculties.... What's his last name?.. Severus... Severus... Severus Snape!"
  When she uttered this short name, my note, which I had made, and a newspaper clipping with a serious black-haired and black-eyed man of about thirty-five appeared in my mind's eye. A potion master and a double spy! The only one I liked from Harry's stories. He also reminded me of Sasuke in some ways, except his nose was a little bigger than my friend's.
  "Severus Snape," I repeated after my aunt, in order to remember the name well, it was not necessary on my last visit to this world, since I did not plan to stay long.
  But this time, it looks like I'm going to have to try on the role of the "Chosen One" for myself. And I don't want to lose face at all. It was enough to be the heir of the Uzumaki aristocrat clan and behave like a savage in my life. Ino-chan didn't open my eyes until I was sixteen and took over my upbringing a little bit, throwing in a couple of scrolls and books on etiquette and High style*, otherwise sometimes I didn't even understand Neji when he was talking to Hinata. (A distinctive feature of the Japanese language is the presence of special grammatical categories of politeness in it, which are divided into ordinary style, polite style and high speech.)
  It's decided! I'm going to find Severus Snape and ask to be his student! Hmm... but how to do it?
  Part 1. Chapter 5. How to get Sensei
   August 9th, 1988
  England, Cokworth
  
  The very next day, Aunt Petunia and I went to the town of Cokworth - Damn the local names! As I understand it, Harry's aunt and mother grew up in this town. I don't really like England as a country. Cold. Dull. Little sun. I was horrified to learn from Dudley that it was "summer" and at the moment it was practically the warmest time of the year. If there is some kind of gloom and fog in the "midst", as if in the Land of Water, what will happen next? And I don't even have a chakra to calmly endure the bad weather!
  Dudley was left with the neighbors, with his friend's family. Yesterday I had to explain myself to my cousin, and also to promise that I would teach him something too. It's a good thing he didn't specify that I would teach magic. And so, if we do workouts together, then it's useful for him too - he'll get a little fat into his muscles and "magic to charge between the eyes of someone who pesters and calls names" has not been canceled either. And, after all, who knows what kind of magic it is, maybe if you practice, you will succeed? My friend Rock Lee was able to become a ninja, even though he couldn't use ninjutsu, he had something with tenketsu, or he didn't have enough chakra, I still didn't understand what exactly his problem was, but in the end the only thing he could use was hand-to-hand combat - taijutsu That didn't stop him from being among the ten strongest Shinobi of the younger generation. And if Lee used the "gate technique", he could twist me into a goat's horn with full force.
  Anyway, I've already mentally outlined a training plan for Dudley, it's not too late to start at eight, especially since my uncle said he might send him to the boxing section in a couple of years. As far as I understand, this is something like a national sport and fistfights. To me, it's useless, ineffective, and narrowly focused, unless it's really for the sake of entertainment.
  In the morning, Uncle Vernon drove my aunt and me in his car to London, where Harry and I had been in the past. Actually, I still didn't understand what Vernon-san thought about the "magic nephew", he was silent, only occasionally glancing at me warily in the mirror. But he seemed to like the idea of learning not to do anything weird out of the blue, just like his aunt. In London, Petunia-san and I made several bus transfers and reached our destination. At about ten o'clock-I finally got my body used to feeling the time-we got to this Coakworth. A gloomy town with smoking chimneys and smelly air. It's kind of sooty, here. And the greenery that pleased the eye in Little Whinging was almost absent here. Faded brown brick houses, stone pavements, leaden, heavy skies. Rare colorless passersby in dark clothes. My aunt and I, who was wearing a beautiful knee-length blue dress, looked alien here. Is it really some kind of enchanted town?
  London also seemed gray to me, but there were quite bright storefronts, red booths and buses. I think it's here," my aunt said uncertainly, interrupting my thoughts about the general gloom of the country I was in. We stopped in one of the alleys. Very narrow. If Petunia-san opens her arms, she will touch the brick walls covered with dirty moss with her palms.
  "This house," my aunt clarified, and as we got a little closer, I felt something like a barrier seal.
  I immediately felt calm. Firstly, because I clearly felt the magic, secondly, I was able to roughly understand its direction, that is, I did not lose my senses, and thirdly, we found Severus Snape's house, which he most likely protected in this way. Harry said something about Muggle-repelling charms so that the townsfolk wouldn't pay attention to the wizard and his house. It must have been something like that. However, it is better not to enter the building, as there are many traps that a double spy could set for uninvited guests. But I hope that he also has a signal barrier to know about all visitors to his territory.
  We stopped at the black wooden door. There was no bell, no knocker. In fact, she didn't even have a pen on her. My aunt showed all the signs that the deterrent spell was starting to work, so I resolutely took her hand.
  "Knock on the door?" she asked me timidly. I nodded.
  After a few agonizing minutes, the door suddenly opened. Unexpectedly, because no matter how hard I listened, I didn't hear any footsteps. That's right - a first-class spy, walking so quietly!
  When I looked at Severus Snape more closely, I was again convinced of his resemblance to Sasuke.... If only my friend had the opportunity to live to that age. The unbearable pain of loss hit my heart again, so that tears almost came out.
  "What can I do for you?" He asked with cold curiosity, and then slightly narrowed his black eyes, looking attentively at his aunt. "Petunia Evans?"..
  He should have let it out again, and I would have been scared. However, it feels like he recognized me.
  "Come on in," he stood aside, not taking his eyes off me, and I had a fleeting feeling that I was prey that voluntarily followed a predator. It was something Orochimaru always exuded. Besides the fact that he was a great spy, Severus Snape turned out to be a very smart person, I saw so many books at once only in the library. Shelving is everywhere and up to the ceiling. I wouldn't be surprised if he read it all, maybe twice.
  "What brings you to me, Petunia?" Snape motioned her to a chair, from which several books flew away by themselves.
  I got a bench seat in the same way. My aunt, by the way, quite calmly followed the flying folios and carefully took the edge of the seat. I perched on a banquette, huddled in the shade. It was much more convenient to observe this way, besides, very dim light fell into the room from the only dirty window, so that the source of illumination was a strange-looking iron lamp on a long leg.
  "You see, Severus," my aunt replied softly, "you're the only wizard I know... well enough. About seven years ago, Vernon and I, this is my husband, left a one-year-old Harry Potter on the porch. He had this note with him, asking him to take care of my younger sister's son," Petunia-san rummaged in her purse and handed Snape a piece of thick paper.
  He carefully took the note, read it several times and frowned thoughtfully, looking at me sideways.
  "Harry recently started having magical outbursts again. They've happened before. Especially strong when he first came to our house. Apparently, the boy was stressed due to the fact that there were no parents nearby, and because of the unfamiliar surroundings. Without a magic wand, you know, it was a little difficult to handle, but I was able to" Petunia-san stated dryly, but I imagined it and was impressed. At the same time, she seemed to have managed to hide these oddities of her nephew from Vernon-san, otherwise Harry could have been thrown into the orphanage out of fear! For ordinary people, I think it's all too much.
  "There was a lull for almost six years after that. Except for the little things and trifles. But it is still unknown if they were of a magical nature," the aunt continued. "And yesterday Harry started flying again, and he did it during a family dinner, and then something else happened," she looked at me. "Now Harry is no longer a year and a half old, he is fully aware of the danger from his magical outbursts, especially when there is another small child in the house who does not have the vitality of magicians. You can tell Mr. Snape what you want," they let me.
  "Teach me how to control it. Help me, please, sir" I stood up and bowed slightly. "I don't want to inconvenience my family or accidentally injure anyone."
  "Even if I agree, Petunia, you do realize that it will take some time, right?" Severus Snape seemed a little taken aback by my statement.
  "It's school holidays now. So Harry has until September", Auntie replied calmly. "He can help around the house. Harry is an obedient and careful boy. If you deal with my nephew's problem sooner, you will send me an email and I will come for him. Or, if you want, you can bring him to Little Whinging, where we live. Here's the address," She quickly scribbled the coordinates in her notebook and tore out a piece of paper. Harry is Lily's son, and my sister has been your friend since childhood and has always said only good things about you. So I trust you. I can't take care of Harry magically, you know I'm a squib. Please, Severus."
  Actually, my aunt and I worked out this tactic together while we were on the bus. And it seems to have worked. Severus Snape curled his lip, but took the piece of paper with the address.
  "I'll deliver it myself. The deadline is the thirty-first of August, if nothing happens before that, then..."
  "You should be able to do it", Petunia-san smiled, clearly delighted that I was able to impose on the magician. "Listen to Mr. Snape, Harry."
  With that, she nodded at me, Snape, and left the gloomy house at the Spinners' Cul-de-sac. I looked at my new sensei carefully.
  I wonder if he'll show me some kata? Or brew a potion? Or maybe mages have suppressive seals too?..
  Fanart by Laura Mouraova ";Professor Snape"; https://vk.com/photo-119634594_456240547
  
  Part 1. Chapter 6. How to tame Sensei?
  August 9th, 1988
  England, Cokworth, Spinners' Cul-de-sac, Severus Snape's house
  
  It seems that when the street door slammed softly, my new sensei realized how cruelly he had been tricked into "working out with an eight-year-old kid for more than twenty days." They took it on show and off the cuff. If Aunt Petunia had given him a few minutes to think, I wouldn't have stayed here.
  I felt several emotions from Severus Snape: confusion, annoyance. Oh, I need to prove myself to be an adequate child, with whom there will be fewer problems than he has already managed to imagine.
  "Sorry about that, sir," I said softly. "Could you show me the house and where I can and can't go? I don't want to inconvenience you or myself."
  At my words, he turned his whole body towards me and narrowed his black eyes suspiciously. Oh, I have such eyes in this life, and I would definitely become the spitting image of Sasuke. I even changed my hairstyle a little this week - my hair remained in a short "crew cut" on top of my head, but it grew a little in front. And abnormally fast for the hair. Maybe someday I'll get hair techniques like Jiraiya's? This will also need to be dealt with and observed. Perhaps this is a manifestation of magic, because when I first looked at myself, I realized that there was little of Uzumaki Naruto there, but it was quite realistic to resemble Uchiha.
  Since yesterday, I have decided to give up glasses and focus on perception training. Otherwise, the vision is "tunnel vision" anyway, you can't see anything from the sides, so the entire periphery blurs even more from these eyepieces. I also spent the past week diligently doing special exercises that I once spied on Sasuke, he used these exercises to develop his sharingan to relieve tension from his eyes. I thought that it definitely wouldn't be superfluous, but my eyes needed to be pumped and trained. It seemed that I could see a little better than when I got into Harry's body at the very beginning. At least in the semi-darkness. It seems that this is due to the fact that the pupil is reluctant to work and constantly remains dilated, and this vision is only at a certain distance. So when we went to Cokworth, I safely left the hated eye crutches on the bedside table in the closet under the stairs. Learn to let the chakra near your eyes and you don't have to worry at all....
  Eh, but first we need to figure out the magic.
  "Let's go," Snape-sensei interrupted my thoughts. I got up from the bench and followed him. In general, the house was similar in layout to the one in which the Dursleys lived. From the living room, we entered the kitchen, which was slightly smaller than my relatives', and a little untidy. The stove is not very clean. And for some reason, I didn't find the refrigerator. Maybe the magicians have something like cooling cabinets with fuinjutsu? I made such seals, they come in handy on a hike, especially if you go somewhere to the Land of the Wind. I still remember Gaara's eyes when I took ice cream out of my backpack on the second day of my desert trip and shared it with him. He seems to have had a bigger shock from that, rather than death and resurrection. Well, know the Uzumaki. So, let's move on, there is no closet here, or rather, instead, shelves for books are made under the stairs. Heh, and where should I sleep?
  "There's a bathroom," Snape-sensei commented on one of the doors. If you want to wash, you'll have to heat the water. There's only a wood-burning titan here. I heat the water with magic... Anyway, call me."
  "I see," I nodded.
  Konoha also had a peculiar system and there were strict restrictions on hot water. In principle, if you warm up your body with the circulation of the chakra, then you can calmly wash yourself in an icy stream. However, it's not good if the enemies have sensors on the mission. Until I set myself a fuin warming water, I suffered too... I wonder if the seals work here? In theory, they should, I calmly used the chakra last time. For seals, you need chakra-conducting paper and special ink that absorbs chakra, and, in fact, a fuinjutsu master. Maybe magic will work too? However, first you need to understand how this magic works.
  Next to the bathroom there was a door to the basement, in which there was a laboratory. I was strictly forbidden to go down there. But Snape-sensei did not limit himself to prohibitions alone and waved his wand. I felt something forbidding and locking fly out of the piece of wood.
  "Did you put up some kind of magic lock?" I asked. "It feels like this place now..."
  Snape chuckled, and a fist-sized shiver ran down my spine. So much like Uchiha. It even seems that the smell is the same. Sasuke washed himself with herbal shampoo and pine soap, and Snape-sensei also smelled of something vegetable. Damn, I'm getting really emotional. I hope I don't cry like a little kid here. There's so much going on... and it's so scary to even think that somewhere out there in my world he's gone.
  "What's wrong with you?" I flinched when he touched me and lifted my head by the chin. I took a step back.
  "I'm sorry, sir. You just remind me of my friend. He is no longer with us. But I'm not going to smear my snot, and that won't stop me from learning from you in any way."
  "That's how?.." that's all he said, and we continued to inspect the house.
  "There were three rooms on the second floor. One of them is a bedroom, the second, the largest, is a kind of library-study. A couple more swings of the wand, and another forbidding spell appeared on those books that I was not allowed to read."
  The third room turned out to be the smallest, with a sloping ceiling, resembling my closet. Just under the slope was a small sagging sofa, there were also a couple of empty shelves and a table.
  "This is my former nursery. You can stay here," Sensei said. I put my skinny school backpack on the couch. The Dursleys had brought a change of underwear, extra socks, and another T-shirt from the house. And also a thick notebook and pencil. I was going to record the lessons.
  "We'll get busy after lunch," Snape-sensei decided. "Are you hungry?"
  "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm almost always hungry." I reported and looked down at the floor, "it's very expensive to feed me. And don't look at my thinness, I really eat a lot, but I'll definitely work off helping with the housework. I can do a lot of things.
  Sensei made a strange sound, and I even thought that he would send me back to the Dursleys and say, yeah, look for a fool. But it was worth warning. Besides, I can't demand money from the bank, because, in theory, I shouldn't know about this money. So with my tirade, I also tried to find out that the Potter family has an account in an institution run by scary dwarfs. Who knows what will take the bait?.. Maybe then Sensei will take care of the issue of providing for my family, at least for my food? Harry said that there was "a lot of money," but the opinion of a man who had never dealt with money, so to speak, and spent it only on textbooks and sweets, should be relied on with caution.
  But no, it turns out that Sensei was trying to hold back his laughter and not laugh openly. I felt sorry for the orphan boy.
  "Come on, let's take a look at your gluttony." We went back down to the kitchen. We went through the bathroom and washed our hands there. I've already gotten used to plugging the washbasin, so I've earned an approving glance.
  After putting the kettle on the stove, Sensei went to one of the cupboards. I immediately suspected there was something like a fuin refrigerator. And so it was! He took out butter, half a loaf of wheat bread, and a piece of pork roll, similar to the one old man Teuchi adds to my favorite ramen, only almost square in cross section, apparently to fit the shape of the bread. Oh, you can't even eat ramen in this foggy country, even if you cook it yourself....
  "Let's have some tea and sandwiches," said Snape-sensei. "Slice the bread and meat. Can you handle it?"
  "How thick should the pieces be?" I was pleased to check the balance of the knife and looked at the well-sharpened blade.
  "Bread: half an inch. Roll: quarter inch" turning away from me, he replied. "Perhaps, since you're always hungry, I'll make some more scrambled eggs", he looked at me with an incredulous look, and four eggs flew out of the same cupboard, which a moment later sizzled deliciously in the pan.
  I tried it on. It's good that I've already memorized the local measures of length and weight. There will be nine pieces of bread, but only eight pieces of roll.
  "Should I cut the bread a little thicker or the roll a little thinner?" I asked.
  "That's how?" Sensei looked at me carefully again. "Let me see."
  He looked at my dilemma.
  "Make more sandwiches," he decided with a grunt, shaking his head. "Good eye."
  Yes, thirteen years of experience in throwing weapons, calligraphy and martial arts are not in vain, even after falling into such a worthless and blind little body. But never mind, I'm stubborn, and I can handle it.
  I buttered the bread and made sandwiches. A mug of tea and half an omelet flew up to me. Some Shinobi can also do something similar, such as Suna's puppeteers - they attach chakra threads to objects and can manipulate them using them as weapons. But these objects must have a fairly good chakra conductivity, such as special wood and metal. Sasori, the nukenin puppeteer from the Akatsuki organization, whose members hunted me for a long time, generally used Shinobi bodies as puppets. He definitely has no problems with chakra conduction....
  "Yes, now I see that you weren't exaggerating", Sensei interrupted my thoughts, and I realized that it was over. It was delicious. And I'm practically full.
  I quickly cleared everything off the table, washed and dried the dishes, while Snape-sensei watched me. I feel like I'm appreciating. I don't want to make a mistake. I hope I didn't munch on my food. He didn't seem to slurp and ate carefully. I touched my cheeks carefully, but there were no crumbs or oil.
  "Let's go," the teacher stood up impetuously, as if he had finally made some decision. "I'll show you some exercises."
  I couldn't help but smile with satisfaction as I followed him.
  "It may seem boring and uninteresting to you, but try anyway." Sensei said when we returned to "my" room. He waved his wand, the table moved to the middle, and he took out a matchbox. "Your task is to influence the match. The easiest way is levitation, that is- the flight of objects. It only takes an effort of will. You can also try lighting it or breaking it, or maybe painting it a different color. Focus on the object, feel your magic and direct it to the match. Think about what you want to do. All that matters is concentration and your message. It's all yours until lunch," he spilled the contents of a large box onto the table. "Try it."
  "Yes, sir," I nodded, eyeing the new obstacle to becoming the coolest wizard.
  
  For those unfamiliar with the Naruto fandom, a picture of eight-year-old Sasuke if he were also green-eyed http://s01.geekpic.net/di-HXII77.jpeg
  Part 1. Chapter 7. What is magic?
  August 9th, 1988
  England, Cokworth, Spinners' Cul-de-sac, Severus Snape's house
  
  Looking at the pile of matches, I wondered where to start. Experience has suggested that you should first clear your mind and meditate.
  I sat down on the floor in front of the table and placed the matches one at a time on the surface of the tabletop. My toad teacher Fukasaku-san always told me to visualize all the processes and flows of energy flowing around. That's how I learned to absorb natural energy, mixing it with my chakra. And thanks to this, he became the youngest Shinobi to master the sage mode. Perhaps, it is more accurate to say, the only person who has truly mastered the sage's regime. Jiraiya could use it too, but Fukasaku-san said that his technique was not so perfect.
  Well, yes, Naruto Uzumaki was cool... he was. But I decided that Harry Potter would also be worthy of his "being chosen."
  Magic is also some kind of energy that a magician implements in some way. When I was here in my own body, I felt magical currents in the sennin mode, and thanks to this I could detect the presence of magicians in the area and sense the manifestations of magic. Then, according to the drawing of their power system, the wizards were associated with my storage fuin capacitors, although most of them are low-power, purely take-and-give, with almost no reserve of their own. Somehow they absorb some energy from the outside and transform it into magic. I could see it in sennin mode when I looked at Harry. And Sensei reminded me of all this. Still, it's very useful to meet an adult magician who has done magic in your presence. The fundamental difference between Shinobi and magicians is the presence of a reserve replenished by internal forces. In Shinobi, strength is tied to the volume of reserve, the capacity of chakrocannels, and the natural components of the body....
  The advantages can be found in both. It turns out that a magician can conjure, theoretically, indefinitely, without regard to the reserve. The main thing is to be able to take and transform this magical energy of theirs from space. Practically, I think you can do magic as long as you have the physical strength. And the "instrument of witchcraft" has not yet been selected. Also, it seems to me that the power of a magician in this world is tied to his "throughput" of the magical flow. It's not for nothing that Harry used this very wand, probably a piece of wood for most - a way to focus and operate this flow through it. Sensei also used it when he cast those complicated locking spells. For a moment, it seemed to me that I saw the local magic thread. We need to work on perception. Maybe it's okay to see magic, but I'm just small?..
  As for child magicians, it seems that their "bandwidth" is low due to their age, and the "absorption" of the magical flow occurs ... rather on emotions. Therefore, magic "jumps out" uncontrollably. It's like they took a sip of water and instead of swallowing it, using it for the needs of the body and then getting rid of it with a smart look, the child immediately sprays water from his mouth. Sometimes this is useful, but not always.
  It is also interesting that the word "spontaneous" has two meanings. I understand it as both "natural" and "accidental". If you think about it, all the manifestations of my magic were related to nature: water, air, fire, earth, even the effects on the body... But about the "accident"... I took off because it felt easy for me and somewhere deep in my soul I felt relieved that the family I was in was becoming normal, and here it was - the very "message" that sensei had said. If I look at the situation with Uncle Vernon, then the thought flashed through my mind that he needed help, and I was calculating options for what I could do, before I had time to think about it, as magic "helped"... So, he manages it calmly. I would even say "casually." On the other hand, Gaara controls the sand with a single mental effort, giving an order. He starts waving his arms only if there is too much sand....
  Yeah! I remembered one nuance in my friend's techniques! Gaara soaked his sand with chakra and could control it mentally, as if it were his own chakra, and by mixing "his sand" with the rest, less chakra-nourished, he could also control it, but a more precise adjustment was required - what the sand should do and where to fly. As a child, in order to make a "sand coffin" and crush the enemy, he made such a gesture with his palm - clenching his fist - and thereby controlled the force of sand compression....
  I think I got it.... Let's try it.
  I took a match in my palm and tried to imagine how my magic enveloped it. Visualization. I imagined my non-existent chakra stream. I felt the wooden structure, the size and volume of the object. And... that warmth in my chest.
  "Freeze!" I gave a mental order and slowly lowered my palm, still looking at the match. She froze in the air.
  I didn't even expect it to come out the first time! For a couple of minutes, I entertained myself by making the match fly from palm to palm. I think that my experience of giving mental orders to clones, which I did not doubt, also played a role here. Not the sand of Gaara, of course, but something nearby....
  Yes, it seems that magic, like the chakra, brooks no doubt. It's important to believe that you can do it.... The message. Yes, I struggled with this very much at first. It is not enough to perform mudras perfectly to get the technique, you also need to apply the chakra in the palm of your hand and believe that everything will work out. Otherwise, you can make mistakes, get lost, falter, lose concentration.
  And here, concentration is also extremely important: as soon as you get distracted, the match falls. I can hardly imagine what it's like for Suna's puppeteers. In theory, they control their dolls very similarly with the help of chakronite. What's wrong with levitation? How many subjects do they focus on? Even the simplest doll consists of dozens of elements, and so that it all works as a single organism.... Probably, if the same Sasori had been here, he would have been able to turn all the matches into a little man with completely reliable movements of a living being....
  Therefore, it is extremely important to develop automatism. And maybe it doesn't work exactly the way I think it does? Maybe the puppeteers perceive their dolls as a single organism, and here this very message is more important?
  Let's check it out.
  I took away forty matches and pushed the rest away. In turn, he "imbued each of his mini-simulators with magic" in the same way as the first one, and laid out a large square with ten matches on each side, almost on the entire table. If I perceive a figure as a single and complete being, can I do something with it? For example, to rearrange into a triangle? The matches stirred tensely, bouncing slightly on the table. I began to imagine how a square turns into a triangle. As if he were running a column of clones. Reluctantly, my wooden soldiers scrambled on the tabletop, and the top side of the square "broke" and crawled up, pulling the others with it like a wedge. It turned out to be a long triangle with a base of ten matches and a length of each inclined side of fifteen. A circle? There is. A rectangle? There is. My name? The matches were tossed around, but they still gave out "HARRY POTI"* - they didn't have enough for more.
  After that, I ordered the soldiers to get up, and the black heads lined up in a tight square. By the way, those matches that were lying in a separate pile were also shaking. I ordered them to line up in the next column, too, but it turns out I was distracted, and those first forty matches fell in a pile, and the remaining sixty jumped, but did not join the column.
  However, when I concentrated on one match from that "untouched" and "unpowered" pile, it slowly and reluctantly, but still flew into my palm. Interesting. It turns out that you can affect any object, but the accuracy and speed of manipulation will depend on how much it is imbued with your chakra ... magic. Probably, a magic wand should literally jump into your hand, it's worth thinking about it. At least, I never noticed how it appeared in Sensei's hand. One time! - and there is, then - once! -and no." Therefore, the eggs flew much slower than the same books that were "chased" from the chair so that Aunt Petunia would sit down. Clearly.
  "Not bad," Sensei's voice interrupted my thoughts and pampering with a slowly floating match. "I didn't expect you to be able to levitate so quickly."
  I still haven't figured out how to take magic out of space yet, rather, I took advantage of the experience of a previous life and may have reinvented the kunai.
  "Tell me, sir, what is the conductor of magic?" I'm not sure if he would understand or take my question seriously, but it was worth a try.
  Snape-sensei thought for a moment, but answered anyway.
  "It's a pretty complicated question, Harry, but I personally think that our blood is the source of magic. Otherwise, Ritual magic as such would not exist. As well as... various concepts that exist in the magical world."
  "So the composition of a magician's blood is different from that of a Muggle?" I asked.
  However, if we draw analogies with our world, it seems that magicians are people with kekkei genkai. "Blood restriction" or "improved genome" gives its bearers special abilities compared to ordinary Shinobi. For example, combining two elements into one. For example, Captain Yamato combined water and earth to create wood jutsu. And Haku used ice techniques, combining water and wind. Sasuke also had a genkai dojutsu kekkei from the Uchiha Sharingan clan. Special eyes that can... do a lot of things. Magicians, as an ability of the "improved genome", are able to transform some world energy into practical magic. And they create peculiar "miracles" that are inaccessible to most.
  "Maybe," Sensei replied to my question about the line-up. But let's just say that such a study is almost impossible. To voluntarily receive the blood of a magician, it is necessary to try. Through almost any personal item, as well as hair, saliva, and even more so, blood, you can harm, cast a curse, and open some types of defenses. So you should be careful about scattering your... ingredients.
  "I'll keep that in mind for the future, sir," I nodded.
  I think I've found the most obvious ink ingredient.
  "It's lunch time," Sensei explained and muttered. "You've been quiet for so long that I thought you'd fallen asleep."
  And then I felt hungry again.
  "Lunch is very good, sir," I replied, not trying to hide my joy. I hope Sensei isn't intimidated by gap-toothed smiles.
  *
  With matches in English, it turned out like this http://s01.geekpic.net/dm-PRKK9L .jpeg
  and yes, the author is aware that the name "Harry" is misspelled. Naruto has a bad command of written English, so his grammar will be lame.
  And as it turned out, some readers had never seen the large household boxes of matches that were very common in the 90s. So, you should know that there were even such boxes in which there were 700 matches (and this is not only in Russia, but also abroad).
  
  Part 1. Chapter 8. It's a Magic, Magic, Magic, Magic World
  August 12, 1988
  England, Cokworth, Spinners' Cul-de-sac, Severus Snape's house
  
  On the fourth day of my stay at Snape-sensei's house, I discovered something else about wizards and magic. The beginning of the "discovery" was my discovery of the fuin refrigerator, which I looked into for revision and an attempt to understand how this magical household appliance works. And out of surprise, he almost burst into the strongest curses. I clearly remembered that many products had run out yesterday. I saw Sensei open the refrigerator wide and rummage for food for dinner. Now I saw shelves full of three dozen eggs, several bottles of milk, meatloaf, bread, cheese, raw meat, herbs, vegetables, jam in jars and much, much more. I took a step back and rubbed my eyes, just in case. What is this wonderful miracle that every person dreams of? Or is there something wrong with my eyesight?
  "What's wrong, Harry?" that's what Snape-sensei found me doing.
  "I'm thinking about how the food got into the cupboard", I said thoughtfully. "In general, I wanted to look at and make a list of products so that I would know what to buy in the store."
  "oh..." said Sensei. "The fact is that I order products from magic catalogs, and once a week, on Fridays, the main purchases appear in the refrigerator, of course, I have to buy something extra, but it's enough to send an owl with the order."
  "An owl with an order," I echoed. "So, food and groceries come naturally to magicians, right?" I giggled, and I burst into hysterical laughter. "Like magic, huh?"
  Now it's clear why no one thought about what the Golden Chosen Boy should eat. What for? Magicians don't think about their daily bread, they get everything by themselves. My magical guardian, if there is one, probably never had any problems with food, which you need to earn money for, and then go to the store, bring everything home and sort it into shelves. Everything is ordered by itself, debited through invoices, and magically appears in the refrigerator. Beauty!..
  "Actually, according to Gamp's Law of Elementary Transfiguration, food is one of the five fundamental exceptions, and it cannot be created or transfigured," Sensei completely misunderstood my amusement.
  "Five exceptions?" I asked, and chuckled. "I guess the other four, besides food, are money, artifacts, blood or organs, and other people, right?"
  Shadow cloning and ninjutsu have the same limitations. You can't get enough of shady food. It is forbidden to forge money, and in the end, when the chakra runs out, they will turn into what you made them out of. With artifacts- of course, even Uchiha with their super-eyes that copy all the techniques in a row will not be able to create a shadow sword artifact like the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist. Except for the similarity without their artifact properties, such as absorbing blood and restoring oneself due to the iron in it. I learned about organs from Sakura, she's a cool doctor. Well, it's also clear with a person - just like with an artifact, you can only make a temporary likeness in the form of a shadow clone. You can revive a person with a technique like "unholy resurrection," but it's disgusting. And this is not real: it's just the binding of the soul to someone else's corpse, which is given the semblance of a resurrected person. They don't sleep, they don't eat, they don't feel pain... in general, they are no longer people, and such a thing is burdensome for souls pulled out of the Pure World.
  "You guessed it surprisingly quickly," Snape-sensei raised an eyebrow, which meant he was almost amazed.
  "It makes sense," I shrugged. "If you turn a chair into a fried chicken, then it's probably not very pleasant to poo with sawdust later, when the magic of transformation dissipates."
  Sensei snorted at my unappetizing comparison.
  "Yes, you're right. Pooping with sawdust is still a pleasure. Ahem. And what about the rest?"
  "I think you can make money, but it will still be fake, hence the problems with the law. No one wants to be deceived. Don't magicians have police?"
  In principle, I paid with shadow money once during my last stay in this world, but then, when Harry and I exchanged their gold for pounds, I paid everything honestly. However, it seems to me that the magical police turn a blind eye to such trifles, and it is quite possible that "deceiving Muggles" is not considered shameful, unlike the punishable deception of the same magicians.
  "Um, yes, there is something like a police force." Sensei nodded, but somehow grimaced. "But in general, they don't do such things, because in many stores there are detectors and there are a couple of spells that help to expose counterfeit money."
  "So if you were deceived, is it your own fault?" I asked.
  "Something like that," he chuckled. "Of course, most wizards are honest people... but..."
  "I understand, sir. We have to be vigilant," I nodded. He chuckled, but somehow a little sad. Yes, it is necessary to keep your ears on top of your head in the world of magicians all the time. While I'm making breakfast, I'd like to hear some thoughts about the other exceptions," said Sensei. We'll make an omelet and roast pork sausages. And toasts. Jam appeared.
  "I'll cut some bread," I volunteered.
  The mention of toast and jam made saliva stand out by itself. I just love sweets, like any child. In England, perhaps, the only thing that really fascinates me is the toaster. He toasts the bread, and then it flies out so cool. Hot, crunchy and delicious. Sensei has a semi-magical toaster at home, so the bread cools down more slowly than the ones Aunt Petunia makes for breakfast. Snape-sensei said that toasts are purely English food, and then many nations adopted such yummy food from the British. And the electric toaster was invented by Muggles almost a hundred years ago, then the magicians adapted it for themselves. Indeed, the one at Sensei's looked older than the Dursleys', but it looked so powerful that it seemed like it could still be used for a hundred years.
  Sensei looked expressively, waiting for a further answer, and I continued:
  "Copying magical items and artifacts is also hardly possible, otherwise there would be no legendary items or everyone would have them. I think it's only possible to copy the appearance of an object or weapon, but not its magical properties. They are tied to the interaction of materials or their combination, and, probably, a whole complex of some kind of magic charms."
  "You're right, magical artifacts, as well as the artefactors who make them, are quite valuable and rare. By the way, the "artifacts" in this exception include magic potions."
  "Well, yes," I nodded. "Potions use a combination of materials, their influence on each other, and, probably, the magical properties of individual ingredients. Real art."
  "You're right about that," Sensei replied, and I heard a hint of self-satisfaction in his voice. I figured out that since he studied with Harry's mom, and she gave birth to him when he was twenty, he couldn't be more than thirty, and he looked much younger now than in the newspaper photos Harry had shown me. But he's already that coolest Potion Master. So there is a reason to be proud.
  "And with blood or organs, it seems to me, it is also quite obvious. Moreover, you said that blood is the conductor of magic, which means that it will not be possible to create it. Well, if you suddenly want, for example, to make a hand out of a stick and sew it on to someone whose arm was torn off, and after a while a stick will appear from the hand, and what to do about it?! Besides, it's not that simple. Organs consist of many cells, there are all kinds of blood vessels, nerves, bones and tendons, in general, a lot of things...."
  "How interesting you sound," the teacher chuckled. "And you can't say that you're only eight years old. Not all of my final year students can boast of having such mental abilities."
  "I'm not saying that I'm very smart, sir," I modestly lowered my eyes and, sighing, continued But it's just common sense... I would really like to resurrect my parents, but I understand that they are no more. And this is final. And if it were possible in the magical world, they would be resurrected and no one would die. That's the fifth exception to your law...."
  "Gamp," Snape-sensei prompted, putting a pan with an omelet and sausages on the table.
  "Yeah, this is the Gamp," I repeated this name to myself to remember, at the same time putting the last batch of toasts into the miracle machine.
  We had breakfast in silence.
  I continued experimenting with matches and controlling them through levitation for three days, and yesterday I stopped at three boxes. I can control three hundred at once - the number does not matter for a "single impulse", but individually I can only manipulate two circuits, and then "brains creak and smoke", and my hands tremble because I "help" with them. Today I decided to check levitation for the maximum weight that I can lift, and whether there is a limit. Does the speed depend on the mass of the object and its volume? My distance from the subject and everything like that. And also how to fly yourself.
  "If you're interested, I can let you into my lab, brew a couple of potions and show you what it is," the teacher's voice interrupted my thoughts.
  "Eh? Is that true?" I stared at him. Is he really going to let the kid into the "holy of holies"?
  "But you'll help me cut the ingredients," he said sternly. "... some of them may cause rejection at first glance," but this is doubtful.
  "If we don't try, we won't find out, sir," I cheerfully reported, quickly washing the dishes after our breakfast. "But I'm not exactly squeamish."
  "Well, okay," Snape-sensei sighed, as if surprised at himself. "Let's go then..."
  "I won't touch anything without permission, sir." I promised, seeing his doubts again as we approached the enchanted door.
  He grunted and led the way into the lab.
  Part 1. Chapter 9. The Puncture
  August 16, 1988
  England, Cokworth, Spinners' Cul-de-sac, Severus Snape's house
  
  On Tuesday morning, I was entrusted with stirring the potion. Snape-sensei boiled it in a small copper pot. A wound-healing agent, which for some reason was called "Rowan broth" and was acid-green in color. However, besides the very bark of the mountain ash, and also some kind of its magical variety, there were seventeen ingredients in it.
  I was promised a vial of this potion if I didn't mess up. So I was as focused as possible. The motivation is very serious.
  When Snape-sensei showed me some of the effects of his potions, I told him that it was incredibly cool. Potions are very useful. Especially when you consider that, in principle, most of them do not require any kind of super-skill, a special gift of blood, dojutsu, hijutsu, or the ability, like iryenin's, to split their chakra into pure components.
  For intermediate-level potions, which does not cross the line of mastery, like Sensei's, attentiveness, accuracy and clarity of following recipes are rather needed. And most of the ingredients, as I immediately clarified, did not necessarily need to be prepared myself - you could buy them in special shops.
  However, Sensei did not buy everything, only what he could not prepare or exchange himself. But this is understandable - something depends on money, and some components are also extremely rare. I remember looking for unique herbs for the same Teuchi-san as a seasoning, so that he could cook the coolest ramen in the world, or to make medicine for Hinata to recover.... Rare - it also grows in "weird" places or runs in "weird" corners, somewhere on the wrong side of the world. But I've always been "lucky" to accidentally pick up something "mythical": a virus, a furry creature on my back, or a super bug....
  Waving a wand is, of course, also useful in life, but potions... It seems that the wizards didn't understand even half of what could be done with them and how to use them. Judging by the potions handbook that sensei allowed me to look through, most of them were aimed simply at jokes and minor dirty tricks to others. But there were also extremely useful ones, like the same "Rowan broth". You can instantly heal small cuts, abrasions and scratches when applied to the skin, and if you are severely injured, and even in a vital organ, drinking a vial can save a life.
  "Bright green. As expected," Sensei looked into the cauldron, from which I had moved away after completing a series of final stirrings. Not bad. Give me the vials number three. We need to pour it before it gets cold.
  I darted to a special cabinet in which various potion jars were laid out. As far as I understood, all the phials had their own shape, and they were also divided into types according to it. The number three was for various medicinal potions and looked ordinary - dark brown glass with smooth, pot-bellied walls, with a volume of about thirty-five milliliters*. Special pieces of paper were attached to them: it was written down completely independently what kind of brew was inside and the name of the master manufacturer. However, most of the potions had quite distinct smells, and over the past few days I have memorized about forty of those that could either be useful or they can be poisoned. (Most likely, the volume of these potion bottles is 10 English "liquid drachmas", equal to 35.5163 ml.)
  The potion was brewed in cauldron number two, which is two pints, a local unit of measurement equal to about five hundred and seventy milliliters. The boiler is a little less than two-thirds full, plus the density and residue on the walls, which means... I took twenty vials, put them in a box, and presented them to Sensei.
  Almost no magic is used in potions, as it destabilizes many of them, so everything from cutting ingredients to bottling and washing the cauldron must be done manually. No levitation, charms, or other magical tricks.
  And yet, as delicately as possible, without wasting a drop, Sensei poured the contents of the cauldron, which was enough for just twenty vials. One of them is mine! The walls can no longer be assembled into a bottle, but I had another idea.
  "Tell me, sir, and if the remains from the cauldron are mixed, say, with fat, then the potion, like an ointment, will lose its properties, or can it be used at least for external wounds that are not fatal?"
  "There are several medical spells for treating scratches and abrasions," Snape-sensei chuckled, but thought for a moment. "However, if the fat is goose fat, then most likely the wound healing effect will remain, but for shallow wounds, bruises... We can try," he squinted at me, "in any case, there's a little bit of the potion left on the walls and throw it away anyway. You can take a spoonful of fat for an experiment in the kitchen. And I'm wondering, did you accidentally take exactly twenty vials or not?"
  "No, not by chance," I replied, heading out of the laboratory. "I counted it by volume."
  Sensei's skeptical grunt came from behind me. But what kind of a trivial task is it if at the Academy we were forced to calculate the flight paths of several kunai from traps for a while, adjusted for wind and the force of their launch? Not to say that I was a genius and, like Sakura or Sasuke, I easily clicked such puzzles in class, they always knocked me down, but in the end, when it came time for "combat practice", several situations on the verge of life and death hammered into me the skills of high-speed calculation of my own and others' actions. Like it or not, as they say, but life will force you.
  Since last Friday, when I was allowed into the "holy of holies," I've grown from "just look and don't touch anything" to "stir clockwise eighteen times, then counterclockwise forty seconds later, and so on for fifteen cycles." In general, I did everything to appease Sensei, and he taught and tolerated me. Compared to the same stingy Kakashi and godfather Jiraiya, who were very reluctant to share techniques, Snape-sensei was just a miracle, what a good mentor. I didn't really need anyone's smiles, praises, or lisping, only knowledge and information were important. Especially from a teacher who was practically forced on me in the middle of his vacation by a bunch of kids. He calmly explained some points that I didn't understand or gave me a book in which I could find the answer. And his trust in stirring such a valuable potion speaks volumes.
  I took the fat and returned to the boiler. I also have to wash it. There was already a flat dark jar nearby, into which, with sensei's tacit approval, I placed the fat and used a special "potion-neutral" spatula to scrape the leftovers from the walls. I mixed everything until it was a smooth pale green creamy mass that looked like pistachio ice cream.
  "Can I try?" I asked Sensei. He nodded. And I rolled up the sleeve of the special test that I was given for the laboratory, ran a knife for cutting ingredients along my forearm, cutting through the skin.
  For some reason, Sensei stared at me and, as it seemed to me, barely held back a cry. Is something wrong? But I'm not a masochist to hurt large vessels, and the forearm is always used for self-defense, as a relatively injury-free area.
  "It stings a little," I shared my feelings, watching the skin come together again under the influence of the magic ointment. The wound, six centimeters long and about five millimeters deep, healed in four seconds. Excellent result. There was no trace, no pain.
  "The next time you decide to self-harm, be sure to warn, Mr. Potter!" Sensei hissed angrily, his eyes flashing. It was the first time he called me by my last name, however, I was also rarely called by my first name here.
  "I'm sorry, sir!" it's necessary to get so fucked up! He's a civilian anyway, and to see an eight-year-old, in his understanding, a child, calmly and without wincing, inflicts a cut on himself... What a sight. Which can also raise a lot of questions. That's how they get pierced!
  "How often have you been injured that you can safely run a knife through your skin and not be afraid of pain?" Sensei asked coldly. Yes, here are the questions.
  "Um... I didn't have any wounds to check, and it would be too much to involve you for experiments, sir.... I knew that everything would heal, so I wasn't afraid", I turned on the naive charmer, batting my eyelashes. There aren't any veins to make me bleed, and I had ointment handy. And you said there was a charm for healing wounds, if it hadn't worked. I just really wanted to try how it works, sir! I'm sorry, I got carried away and didn't think about it...."
  "Get out of the lab," he said softly, and I, strenuously making the most guilty face I could, quickly retreated. The Master needs to cool down and calm down, and it will be easier to do this without my presence. Damn, it's necessary to make such a mistake! As long as he doesn't hand me back to my relatives for my "self-harming" antics.
  Hmm... he asked how many times I got hurt. Three times "ha"! Is it possible to count? But I think a thousand damages would have been accumulated for sure. There were no scars left on my body due to the Heat and increased regeneration. But sometimes, after missions and fights, there was no living place on the skin. Burns, cuts, abrasions, lacerations, dislodged tenketsu, shattered bones, dislocated arms, torn nails, body pierced in all places... Once, there was even a dissection of the heart muscle. That was painful. It's good that Grandma Tsunade was there and pulled her out of the Clean World.
  The body here didn't have my recovery ability, so ointment and any healing potions wouldn't hurt. I lay down and started doing abs exercises, lifting my body off the floor. Nothing, and we'll make a real Shinobi out of Harry Potter, the main thing is to choose training based on local realities. I also complicated the exercise by levitating over the feet of matchboxes. So, I noticed that magic is beginning to circulate inside, so it's possible that during the simultaneous processes of magical and physical activity, some local chakra channels will be pumped.
  If Sensei sends me home, that's what a fool should do - don't relax. Besides, technically, I probably went through the same magical control training. As soon as it became a little clear how it all worked, the spontaneous twists of magic stopped. And especially after I practice this magic for several hours a day and "drain" the magical tension, wherever it may be. Eh... and so everything started well with training, and there are still two whole weeks until September.
  Part 1. Chapter 10. Sometimes a genius, sometimes a fool
  August 16, 1988
  England, Cokworth, Spinners' Cul-de-sac, Severus Snape's house
  
  I spent my afternoon training thinking and mentally cursing at my own stupidity. I did ten sets of twenty push-ups, abs exercises, and squats. All this while continuing to "conjure" with the levitation of a matchbox. Between sets, I meditated, recovered, and did eye exercises.
  I began to see much better than when I woke up in this body for the first time, but it was far from ideal. However, the result was felt almost immediately, so I tried. I turned the eyes of the "eights", "squares" and "circles". He adjusted the focus and concentrated on several points in the room at different distances from me. He squinted, hiding his eyes in his palms so that the pupil would dilate, and then looked at the window so that the pupil would narrow from the light*. All this is to force the eye muscles too. I absolutely do not want to be a bespectacled person. Like a weakling and a weakling. (Real eye exercises that can restore and improve vision up to several diopters. It is useful even for those with good eyesight. Strengthens the muscles of the eye, allowing it to adjust faster to different distances, see better in the dark and in bright light.)
  As lunch time approached, I listened to what was happening downstairs on the first floor of Sensei's house. More precisely, in the kitchen. My stomach began to howl slightly, clearly getting used to a fairly clear feeding schedule. I wonder if he'll kick you out, will he feed you one last time, or will he leave you without food as punishment? Exactly two o'clock. You don't have to look at your watch. I've completely regained my sense of time. Meditation helps with this well, because the local sun is constantly hiding in thick clouds.
  Downstairs, dishes clattered and there was a soft creak of the refrigerator door. I crept to the stairs and caught a view of the kitchen with a small mirror that Aunt Petunia let me take from her old compact. The second device! There is! They're going to feed me!
  I put the mirror back in my breeches pocket and quietly went downstairs. Severus Snape was well studied by me. Sasuke's character is definitely somewhat similar. The main thing is not to make him angry again, because if he's going to feed me and I'm late for lunch, he'll get mad again. However, he didn't even yell at me when he kicked me out of the lab. But it would be better to yell, because when it's said so softly, it's scarier. Maybe he was afraid for me at all? Well, yes, I'm under his responsibility, and suddenly I'm soaking these crusts.
  On the corner of the table, near my place, was the promised bottle of "Rowan Broth", appropriately signed, and the jar in which I mixed the ointment. Like, for me too? Oh, of course it didn't mean something like, "take this and get out of my house."
  The first thing I did was go to the bathroom and wash my hands.
  Sensei was silent, but when I sat down at my place, he pushed the bread and knife towards me. I cut the pieces into half-inch pieces. While I was cutting, I could feel his black eyes on me. Well, yes, they gave the child a knife, and he let's chop himself up. It's completely inadequate. There's even a saying: "Whatever a Shinobi does, as long as he doesn't cut his own people," and here I started myself. The last stage of mental breakdown of some kind. In this body, the pain feels a little sharper than it should, and the little civilian Harry Potter's body is more tender, but not to say that the pain was completely unbearable. It's possible that wizards also have a high pain threshold because of their magic. And that's good, you don't have to worry about that either.
  I put down the knife and looked up at Sensei. He immediately turned to the stove, as if he didn't want to look at me, and poured the broth into deep plates. At the same time, the pieces of bread I had cut flew to the toaster. And four boiled eggs rolled up to me. That's cool, he wasn't even looking! That's control! And with so many objects at once!
  I quickly peeled the eggs, cut them into halves and put them in the broth. I threw the shells in the trash and rinsed my hands again. The first toasts were ready, and we sat down at the table. Lots of meat! Parsley greens. I wish there were more noodles, and it would be almost ramen. But it's also so delicious, mixed with toast. My aunt cooks thicker soup more often, but I definitely like liquid soup better. Probably because it's more familiar.
  There was also a second course of potatoes with vegetables and pork pieces mixed together. It's also delicious and satisfying. After lunch, I collected the dishes and took over the sink. Sensei hesitated behind his back, but he was the first to break our mutual silence.
  "It looks like it's going to rain..." he said.
  "And why does it "seem"?" I was surprised, looking up from washing the pot in which the broth was being cooked. "Can't wizards tell for sure if it's going to rain or not?"
  Sensei froze and somehow got lost, but I realized that this was a "local flavor."
  When my aunt and I went somewhere, almost all the neighbors started the conversation with phrases like: "The weather is good, isn't it?" or "Did you hear that rain was promised in the evening?" and my aunt also kept up the conversation, and they could talk about the weather for ten minutes before saying what is needed or what they want to ask for. It sounded like a High-Pitched Speech. I had to deal with aristocrats more than once, and they could also spend hours discussing some flowers, the taste of tea or a painting. Then Ino told me that there are a lot of nuances in the seemingly meaningless chatter, and the whole policy is based on whether your thoughts coincide, whether you can guess what they are so "clearly" hinting at. You can stand guard with your ears hanging open and not realize that the two aristocrats have already agreed on something and discussed a lot of political news when they compared tea from Nanbu province with last year's harvest, brought from the Land of the Bear.
  What kind of day is it that I fucked up for the second time?!
  It's just that he didn't make small talk with me and was quite specific, and then suddenly we were talking about the weather....
  "Basically, the wizard will be able to tell if it's going to rain or not," Snape-sensei interrupted my racing thoughts with a grunt. "But for this you need to have some gift of prediction."
  "It's strange," I couldn't resist. "But it shouldn't rain for the next hour. The clouds are not the same as they are before the rain, and the wind is too slow today to apply others and change the weather within an hour," explaining his conclusions.
  "Okay, clouds..." Sensei drawled incredulously, studying me like one of his ingredients. "But how did you find out about the wind? You're in the house."
  "The window is enough," I shrugged my shoulders. "There are no trees here, but the neighbors have hung the laundry. And the clouds are slowly passing in the sky. The big one over there, which looks like a chicken, is still hanging in the window opening, it hasn't moved much, and I've been washing dishes for ten minutes. That means the wind speed is low up there too. I'm just being observant."
  "Observant..." he repeated after me.
  I nodded. It feels like I'm not the smartest Shinobi from my world, I'm almost a genius here! What if Sasuke got here? Oh, it's a pity... My best friend could draw such conclusions even at his real age of eight, and not like me - brazenly using an extra nine years of combat and life experience.
  "I've been thinking about your actions in the lab..." Snape-sensei said slowly and as if with difficulty. Your conclusions were... logical enough. Besides, I gave you permission to test the ointment myself. It just seemed to me that you already have some kind of abrasion. And I didn't expect you to be so... bold in your experiments. I hope that next time we brew "Bone growth", you won't break your fingers to test its effect."
  "No, sir," I said, shaking my head. "The ointment is new and has unknown properties. And the Kosterost in that reference book that you gave me, quite clearly describes all the features. Besides, your opinion is enough for me that it should help in case of fractures or, as far as I understand, with the return of missing bones. And I kept wondering, where are the bones supposed to go?"
  "Fractures can be quite problematic," Snape-sensei chuckled. "For example, if there are bone fragments that threaten the work of other organs. In this case, a coldomedic can make a particular bone disappear from your body along with its fragments, and this bone is grown anew. Sometimes it is faster and more convenient than to splice complex and fragmented fractures. Also, sometimes "kosterost" is prescribed to not very tall children as a strengthening agent for the overall growth of the skeleton."
  "Would they have prescribed it for me?" I asked. "I think I'm a little small for my age. I'm eight, but I look like a seven-year-old. Also, my vision is not very clear, maybe there are some strengthening eye drops or spells?"
  Sensei thought about it.
  "You're quite tall enough for your age, so you won't need a "Bone height". As for the eyesight, I must disappoint you, there are no such potions and charms. Quite a lot of wizards wear glasses. However, I have heard that there are healers in Japan who restore even very poor eyesight. I was there once at a potions conference. I even learned their language once, I wanted to... In general, it doesn't matter..."
  "Is there another language in another country?" I asked, interested.
  Okay, when there are different languages in different worlds, but what about countries?! I remember that those scary dwarfs from the bank were muttering something in a strange and incomprehensible language, but they weren't people at all. Draft toads are also supposed to speak toadish. And ninja cats have their own "nya dialect".
  "Of course," Sensei raised an eyebrow. "In England - English, in France - French, in Japan - Japanese."
  "How many languages do you know, sir?"
  "I am fluent in English, French, Italian, Spanish. I speak Japanese, Russian and German a little worse. I understand gobbledook a bit. If you include runes, then Ancient Germanic. Well, Latin, too.
  "Wow!" my respect for Sensei is growing. "You're cool, sir! Are they very different? Are there many of them?"
  "There are more than seven thousand different languages in the world, among them about forty of the most used and about a dozen spoken by the vast majority of people. There are a lot of dead languages. For example, the same Latin. By the way, this is the only actively used dead language. Medicines, herbs, and a lot of spells, especially ancient ones, have Latin roots."
  In short, I don't care about this world at all. Seven thousand languages!
  "And their writing is also different?" I asked.
  "Yes," Sensei grinned.
  I guess I'm glad I didn't turn out to be such a genius....
  "Wash the dishes, and I'll show you some books in different languages."
  "Very good, sir!" Ugh! Well, it's good that he decided to keep me after all! So we live!
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