Previous chapters can be found here:

http://www.lurkerdrome.com/hp.html





Harry Potter and the Mistress of the Clow

A Studio ELL production

Harry Potter is the creation of J.K. Rowling, and is published by
Bloomsbury, Raincoast, and Scholastic, as well as other companies
internationally, and is also the property of AOL Time Warner Inc.

Cardcaptor Sakura is the creation and property of CLAMP and Kodansha.

All characters, names, and places used without permission.





10. Sakura Goes Shopping



She stood waiting under a halogen lamp, wearing a blue sundress and matching
slippers. Her eyes twinkled; she looked at him expectantly, her posture
demure, waiting.

He walked toward her, watching the ripple of her dress in the slight breeze,
the way the glow of the lamp highlighted the diaphanous nature of the
material, revealing the tantalising silhouette of her body just beneath the
thin, shifting fabric. He swallowed nervously as he approached; his mouth
had gone dry, and his heart was hammering in his chest.

"Kiss me," she whispered, her words carried on the wind as they formed on
her perfect pink lips...those warm, delicate, inviting lips, a flower with
nectar ripe for the taking...

"Kiss me..."

He wanted to, desperately. His lips longed to caress hers, his arms ached to
press her body against his and never let go, and yet...

A shadow detached itself from the wall; tall, clad in a charcoal suit, head
bowed, eyes shaded by the brim of a fedora. The figure moved into the halo
of another streetlight; the head lifted, and sharp grey eyes peered into his
own. Then, the man in the suit turned and walked to the circle of light cast
by the lamp under which the girl stood; he encircled her slender shoulders
with one long arm and pulled her close, kissing her tenderly. She looked
down, eyes not meeting his, a single tear splashing to the ground. They
turned, he still holding her possessively, and retreated back into the
shadows. The wind carried snatches of whispered conversation to his ears,
but he couldn't make them out. For a moment, he considered following--

"Oy. Up and at 'em, mate."

Harry blinked, wincing at the sunlight streaming through the window. A
fuzzy, red-topped face swam into view; he grabbed his new glasses and put
them on, only to be greeted by the grinning visage of Ron Weasley. "Come on
Harry, get up! Mum wants to take us to Diagon Alley to get our stuff for
school!"

Harry groggily rose, stretching. "Why're we going so early?" he wondered.
The first full week of August had not yet passed, and the Weasleys usually
didn't go to Diagon Alley until closer to September.

Ron shrugged. "Mum reckons we're better off going early this year, beat the
crowds. Hurry up and dress, she's almost got breakfast done!"

Ron rushed downstairs, and Harry began dressing for the day. As he did so,
he pondered the foggy wisps of his dream, frowning.



* * * * * *



Dumbledore had come back to Tomoeda to find that Sakura's father was willing
to let her go to Hogwarts. He still had reservations, and a good number of
practical questions and concerns, but he couldn't deny that his daughter
needed to be properly trained if she had the degree of magical power the old
wizard and the ancient guardian beast thought she did.

"But what about tuition, and money for her supplies?" Fujitaka asked. "I
mean, money isn't a real problem, but--"

"You need not concern yourself with that, Kinomoto-san," Dumbledore assured
him. "Clow Reed has a considerable amount amassed in his vault in London. As
Sakura is effectively his heir, I'll withdraw all fees for her stay at
Hogwarts from that vault. It will be more than enough to cover all seven
years, any travel back and forth, and incidentals." He smiled.

"Well...if you say so..."

"Come, Sakura, we'd best be off to get your school things. Hold on to this,
it's called a portkey, that's right...off we go then..."

Fujitaka and Touya watched as Dumbledore, Sakura, and Keroberos vanished.
"Do you think this will be alright, Touya?" Fujitaka asked.

Touya smiled. "I think it'll be fine. If the little monster doesn't destroy
all of Britain or something." His voice held a fond, brotherly tone that
belied his words, and Fujitaka chuckled softly.



* * * * * *



"Diagon Alley...I haven't been here in a long time," Keroberos said
wistfully.

"Wow," Sakura gasped as she looked around. The narrow lane they had arrived
in was lined by shops boasting wares the likes of which she had never seen;
the position of the sun told her she had indeed just crossed an entire
continent. The people here were colorfully and unusually dressed; robes,
cloaks, and pointed hats stretched as far as the eye could see as wizards
and witches bustled to and fro.

Their first stop was at a bank called Gringotts, which was run by creatures
that somewhwat unnerved Sakura. Dumbledore had spent a moment conversing
with a goblin before turning to Sakura. As the goblin rushed off, looking
rather disgruntled, Sakura asked what they had been discussing. "I merely
asked the goblins to withdraw a sufficient amount from Clow Reed's vault for
Hogwarts supplies, and explained that neither you nor I were much for the
cart ride down to the vaults."

Sakura started to ask what he meant by that, but Keroberos cut her off.
"Trust me, Sakura-chan, you *don't* want to know."

Moments later, the goblin returned with a jangling leather bag, which he
thrust at Dumbledore. The creature bowed rather stiffly, and ushered them
out of the bank.

"Now, the first problem we need to deal with," Dumbledore said as they
emerged into the street, "is the language barrier. I expect that you will
make an effort to learn English during your time at Hogwarts, but in the
meantime..."

He led Sakura to a small, dusty-looking shop over which hung a brass
placard: 'Telligess' Translation Tablets And Talismans'. "We'll be able to
acquire some special assistance here..."

A scholarly-looking young wizard with silver-framed glasses and neat orange
robes looked up at them and smiled as they walked in. "Hello, how can I help
you--ah! Professor Dumbledore! It's been a while, sir."

Dumbledore smiled at the young man. "Good day, Samuel. You seem to be faring
well."

"Yes, sir! My wife and I are expecting our first child in a few weeks."

"I'm happy to hear it." Dumbledore smiled. Sakura suddenly realised
something--she'd understood every word the two of them had exchanged...but
they'd been speaking *English!* "Samuel, this is Sakura Kinomoto. She will
be attending Hogwarts this term, and requires a translator."

The young wizard nodded and eyed Sakura up and down, brow furrowing in
thought. "Japanese? Hmm..." He walked over to a rack on the wall, perusing
its contents at length before producing two items: a small white-gold pin
with a round red jewel in the center which resembled the Japanese flag, and
a pair of round, smokey eyeglasses. "This should do it." He knelt in front
of Sakura and affixed the pin to her collar. "As long as you wear this,
you'll hear Japanese no matter what language is being spoken, and anyone you
speak to will hear the language they speak, so long as you speak Japanese."
He handed her the eyeglasses. "These are for reading. And..." He frowned. "I
don't have a Translation Quill for Japanese in stock...the last batch we
made didn't work nearly well enough..."

"Quite alright, Samuel," Dumbledore assured him. "I've already ordered a
parcel of English-translation glasses for her teachers. How long is the
usual wait for a translation quill?"

"Well, the next batch will likely be ready at the start of October," Samuel
said. "The kanji-based languages are very tricky." He frowned. "By the way,
those glasses may show you something that doesn't look quite right from time
to time. Be sure to ask for help from a schoolmate if something doesn't make
sense."

"A-alright," Sakura nodded.

"Right then..." Samuel clapped his hands together and smiled. "Anything else
for you today, Professor Dumbledore?"

"That will be all, Samuel, thank you."

"Alright..." The young wizard whisked over to the counter and began
scratching with a quill on a piece of parchment. "One Japanese pin, one pair
Japanese readers, and order of a Japanese-translating quill to be sent to
Sakura Kinomoto at Hogwarts on availability...that comes to fifteen
Galleons, nine Sickles."

Dumbledore paid the man with a double handful of gold and silver coins,
thanked him, and escorted Sakura out of the shop. "Now, let's see about
robes..."



* * * * * *



With fewer Hogwarts students than usual shopping for the start of term, the
Weasleys and their guests were able to take a more leisurely approach to
their day in Diagon Alley. Shortly past noon, they sat around in the Leaky
Cauldron, where they ran into Hagrid, who was spending the day shopping in
Diagon Alley himself. The half-giant was looking a good deal more cheerful
than usual, and as they sat down to talk, Harry learned he had a good
reason.

"Got ter get a few books an' things," Hagrid said with a broad grin.
"Weekends an' evenin's, yer professors're gunna try an' teach me summat."

"Teach...?" Hermione's eyes widened. "Hagrid, are you taking...*remedial*
magic lessons?"

"Well, I reckon I'll learn a few remedies," Hagrid shrugged. "Mainly it'll
just be gettin' me up ter speed on knowin' what a wizard my age oughtta." At
their stunned expressions, he grinned. "Professor Dumbledore's decided since
I didn't do what I got expelled from Hogwarts fer doin' an' all, it's time I
finished my schoolin' an' became a proper wizard." He sniffled and daubed at
his eyes with a grubby handkerchief the size of a tablecloth. "Great man,
Dumbledore."

"That's great, Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed, raising his glass. All around the
table the others did the same, and a rousing cheer went up for the Hogwarts
gamekeeper. Hagrid snuffled even more loudly.

"Yer all too kind..." He blinked. "By the way, Harry, how'd you like yer
present?"

Harry grinned. "Loved it, Hagrid. Thanks."

Hagrid frowned. "But yer not wearin' yer boots, I see..."

"Saving them for the first day back to Hogwarts." Harry shrugged. "After
all, they must have been terribly expensive...don't want to get them all
worn out too soon..."

Hagrid chuckled. "Ye'll nae wear those out unless yeh try kickin' dragons
with 'em." He drained his immense tankard. "An' don' mind th' cost none,
y'hear? Besides, they didn't cost nothin'." At the disbelieving stare he
received, he grinned. "Well, yeh don' think it took twenny foot o' snakeskin
ter make one pair boots an' one pair gloves, do yeh?" he waved a massive
hand dismissively. "Nah, I sold th' rest o' th' hide ter th' tanner, an' got
yer stuff an' th' spellin' on it as part o' th' price. Very rare, basilisk
skin...he was right chuffed ter get 'is hands on it." He stood. "Well, I'd
best be off. Got lots ter do. Good ter see yeh all."

A few moments after Hagrid left, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys followed
suit.



* * * * * *



"Well now, only one thing left to take care of, Sakura."

Sakura looked up nervously at the narrow, dusty shop she and the kind old
wizard were standing in front of.

"Wands?" she asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "Mind, the wandmakers in Japan are more accustomed to
this kind of job, but I'm of the firm belief that nothing is quite as good
as an Ollivander's wand."

Keroberos frowned. "What's she need a wand for? She's already got the Key--"

"Keroberos," Dumbledore interrupted, "are you saying you'd want to be around
to see what happens when a young, untrained witch tries to learn basic
spells using Clow Reed's Key?"

"...Sakura-chan, you'll need a wand," Keroberos decided.

The three of them went into the shop, then, and Sakura jumped when a wisp of
an old man with silvery eyes appeared in front of them. "Good afternoon," he
said softly.

"Good afternoon, Mister Ollivander," Dumbledore said.

"Ah, Albus," Mister Ollivander greeted with a smile. "What brings you here
today?"

"Mister Ollivander, I've come with a bit of a challenge for you. This young
lady is going to attend Hogwarts this term, and she'll require a custom
wand."

The old wandmaker blinked. "A custom wand?" To Sakura, it seemed that he was
half-intrigued, half-indignant. "Albus, you know perfectly well that my
wands are more than adequate for any young witch or wizard..."

"I don't believe any wand you have in stock would suit this child,"
Dumbledore said softly. "She's...unique."

Keroberos fluttered forward. "Show Mister Ollivander the Key, Sakura-chan."

Sakura blinked, but withdrew the shrunken Key from its place around her
neck, and spoke the incantation which revealed its full size. Mister
Ollivander's moon-bright eyes widened at the sight of it. "Good lord..." he
gasped, leaning closer. "May I, child--?"

Sakura looked uncertain, but handed the Key over to the old man, who pulled
a loupe from his pocket and studied it intently. "Bless me!" he cried.
"Polywood, brassroot, lasomorph resin...Merlin's beard, this has FOUR
magical cores!" He glanced up at Dumbledore sharply. "Albus, what in God's
name is a child her age doing with such a thing?"

"Young Sakura," Dumbledore explained patiently, "is the current mistress of
Clow Reed's book of cards."

Mister Ollivander's eyes grew even wider. "Then this--"

"Is the Key that Binds the Seal," Dumbledore finished.

The wandmaker shakily handed Sakura back the Key, which she returned to its
usual small size and slipped back into her blouse. "Yes, well..." He cleared
his throat. "So, you say you need a custom wand, young miss?"

"She does," Dumbledore replied. "And I trust you can have it ready by start
of term?"

"I'll give it my best, Albus," Mister Ollivander replied. "Now, what sort of
wand are we looking for here?"

Dumbledore withdrew a long, thin branch from his robes. "Cherrywood," he
said. "And for a core...Keroberos, if you don't mind...?"

Mister Ollivander seemed a bit put out that there was suddenly an enormous
winged lion in the middle of his shop, but he recovered quickly. "A hair
from my mane," Keroberos growled.

"Yes, of course...you gave one of the cores for that Key, did you not?" The
wandmaker carefully plucked a long silver-white hair from the broad fringe
around Keroberos' neck, and the guardian beast returned to his usual small
size. "Most unusual," Mister Ollivander murmured as he examined the branch
and the hair. He glanced back up at Dumbledore. "I'll have it ready in two
weeks."

"Excellent, excellent," Dumbledore replied, depositing a small pile of coins
on the counter, along with a scrap of parchment. "If you'll just owl it to
this address when you're done, then. Come, Sakura, we'd best be off."



* * * * * *



When they returned from their shopping, Harry was surprised to see Cho
sitting in the Weasleys' kitchen, thumbing through a small book on the
table--a book he quickly recognised as the photo album Sirius had given him
for his birthday. She looked up. "Oh, hello everyone."

"Hello dear," Mrs. Weasley said as she set a number of parcels on the table.

Cho flushed suddenly. "I'm sorry for coming unannounced and sitting around
your house like this. I just..."

"It's quite alright," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling. "You're welcome here any
time you wish."

"Thank you," Cho replied. "I tidied up the living room a bit while I was
waiting. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, but you shouldn't trouble yourself, dear," Mrs. Weasley
replied. "Well, I'd best get started on dinner. Why don't you lot put your
things away..."

Cho quickly got up to help everyone carry their things. As she did so, she
commented to Harry, "I hope you don't mind that I was looking at your
picture album."

"No, I don't mind," Harry said. "I hope you weren't sitting around by
yourself too long."

Cho giggled. "Well, when I got here, I saw nobody was around...except
Snuffles. He was chasing gnomes around the garden. It was...very amusing."

Harry laughed.

A short while later, the twins had retreated up to their room once again
(more explosions shook the Burrow), Ron and Hermione were having a loud
argument about O.W.L.s and lax study habits, and Harry and Cho were looking
through the photo album once again.

"Your mother must have loved animals," Cho said softly, studying the
photograph of Lily Potter with her arms wrapped around the neck of a great
stag.

Harry laughed. "That's my dad," he said.

Cho stared at him, her eyebrows raised. "Pardon?"

Harry grinned. "It's not really widely known, but..." He tapped the picture
with his finger. "My dad was an Animagus. An illegal one--unregistered. I
only found out about it a little over a year ago. That stag is his animal
form."

"Oh, I see!" Cho exclaimed, eyes wide. "I didn't know Animagi could become
such large animals...I mean, Professor McGonagall..."

Harry shrugged. "As far as I know, there aren't any size limits." He sighed.
"I've been thinking about trying it someday. I've no clue what animal I'd
be, but..."

Cho giggled. "Something small, cute, and fluffy, I'd wager." At Harry's
quizzical expression, she grinned and added, "Well, you'd be quite cuddly
that way."

Harry found three new shades of red to colour his face as Cho laughed
harder.



* * * * * *



The Dursleys were just sitting down to afternoon tea on a Saturday when a
most unwelcome visitor appeared right in their kitchen.

Petunia screamed, Vernon turned beet-purple with rage, and Dudley whimpered
as their very worst idea of a wizard simply popped into view by the kitchen
table, clad in pumpkin-coloured robes, a scarlet cloak with runes
embroidered around the edges in gold, a midnight blue hat, and more silver
hair and beard than any of the Dursleys thought should be allowed. He smiled
at them, his blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses.

"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly. "Just in time for tea, I see."

"YOU--" Vernon bellowed, nearly choking to death on his own horrible voice.
"I'll not have your kind coming and going as you please! Who the devil ARE
you, and what is your business here?"

If the old wizard was offended at all by Vernon's manner, he didn't show it.
He merely smiled more broadly and bowed, his beard scraping the floor as he
did so. "My apologies. Albus Dumbledore, at your service."

The Dursleys suddenly became very, very white, and very, very quiet. As a
rule, none of them wanted to know anything about the wizarding world, but
having been saddled with their nephew, who was a wizard, there were a few
names they were unfortunate enough to know. Albus Dumbledore was one of
them.

Dumbledore calmly sat at the table, and produced a package from his cloak.
"Terribly rude of me to come to tea without announcing myself. Luckily, I
have come prepared." He opened his parcel, revealing a box of rather
delicious-looking tea biscuits. He glanced up and around at the Dursleys.
"It is teatime, is it not?"

There are forces in the universe which no mortal can ever hope to
understand. One such force acted upon the Dursleys at that moment, and they
sat down to the table with the headmaster of Hogwarts, Petunia pouring the
tea and being careful to pass Dumbledore his cup first.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said as he carefully sipped his tea, and had a
biscuit. "Do try these, they're quite good."

"Shan't eat anything a wizard brings to the table," Vernon rumbled, though
it was much quieter than his usual rumble. "Your kind can't even be trusted
with food."

"Ah, of course. The little incident with the Weasley twins and a rather
mischevious toffee last year." Dumbledore set his cup down. "I can assure
you that no ill shall come to you from these biscuits. They are quite
ordinary, and I have no reason to wish any misfortune upon you."

Carefully, as though reaching into a nest of vipers, each of the Dursleys
took one of the wizard's biscuits and ate them. After a moment, they were
satisfied no harm would come to them, but they did not move to take a
second, nor thank Dumbledore. (Dudley, however, snuck three more into his
pocket when nobody was watching.)

For his part, Dumbledore seemed unaffronted by their lack of manners as he
continued to drink his tea. He glanced up over his glasses and casually
began, "I've come, of course, because of the proposal made to you the other
day by Mister Houlihan and Professor McGonagall."

"Yes, about that," Vernon said shakily. "Pray, Dumbledore, what is there for
a *normal* boy to do at your school? I imagine there can't be much use in a
boy like Dudley walking about waving a wand and saying funny words."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Quite true, quite true. There are, however, some
subjects taught at Hogwarts which a non-magical person can learn quite
readily. Herbology, Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, Potions,
Astronomy...Dudley would be given plenty to do, and plenty to think about."
He turned to Dudley, who was watching the conversation as though it were a
tennis match. "I daresay you'll rather enjoy some of what Hogwarts has to
offer."

"Assuming we're insane enough to let him go," Vernon said gruffly. He
glanced from Dudley, to Petunia, then finally at Dumbledore. "I suppose
you've made bloody well certain there's no other choice, though, haven't
you?"

"My dear Mister Dursley, there are always choices," Dumbledore said. "In the
morning, we choose what socks to wear, whether to put marmalade or butter on
our toast at breakfast. We choose what books to read, what time to retire
for the night." He glanced at Dudley. "We sometimes even choose which people
we'll hit during the day, and what classes to fall asleep in, don't we?"

Dudley swallowed nervously. Vernon became rather purple again.

"Now, see here, Dumbledore--"

"Again, nobody is forcing you to do anything you do not wish to do, Vernon,"
the old wizard interrupted in a calm voice. "There are always choices.
However, if I may be so bold, the best choice right now is for you to accept
that which has been laid before you." He smiled, his eyes twinkling. "The
last of your kind to attend Hogwarts went on to become Prime Minister. If
our school is good enough for a Prime Minister, certainly it should be good
enough for your son, should it not?"

He stood, then, and smoothed his robes and beard. "I thank you for the
excellent tea, Petunia. You may keep the rest of the biscuits." He looked at
Dudley. "You'll find a packed trunk in your room, with a train ticket and a
letter on top. I'm sure you know the routine by now...first of September,
King's Cross, platform nine and three-quarters. Good day."

And just as suddenly as he had appeared, Albus Dumbledore vanished.



* * * * * *



"It's a bit plain, don't you think?"

Sakura fidgeted as her best friend Tomoyo walked around her, eyeing her new
school uniform critically. The black work robes fit nicely, if a bit
loosely, and had a patch sewn onto the front bearing her name beneath the
Hogwarts coat of arms. Her winter cloak, black with silver fastenings, lay
on her bed.

"It's been the standard uniform for Hogwarts for over three hundred years,"
scoffed Keroberos. "And it's just fine for a young witch starting out."

"Well, basic black *is* rather elegant," Tomoyo decided, "but still, it just
seems so...ordinary." She sighed. "Of course, Sakura-chan looks good in
anything."

Sakura tried not to look too nervous about that comment; Tomoyo was a dear
friend, but sometimes...

"So, have you started reading any of your set books yet?" Tomoyo asked.

Sakura shook her head. "I haven't really had time, but I'll probably spend a
few days looking through them before..." She paused. "How in the world am I
supposed to get there?"

"Eh? Isn't your headmaster coming back for you?" Tomoyo asked.

"Dumbledore gave Sakura-chan a ticket for the Hogwarts Express, but it
leaves from London," Keroberos said. "He didn't say anything about how to
get there, but I'm sure he--"

"I'll take care of it!" Tomoyo said abruptly. "My mother has a private jet!
I'm sure she'll let us take it to England! That way I can see you off at the
platform!"

"Tomoyo-chan..."

Tomoyo smiled and sniffled slightly. "Oh, I wish I could go too...I'd give
anything to be a mahoshojo...to be with Sakura-chan at Hogwarts..."

Sakura awkwardly patted her best friend on the shoulder, not entirely sure
what to say.


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