Shamera: HP/Naruto crossover scene (1328 words)
A short scene (not the first, mind, but rather somewhere in the middle of the beginning part of the story) from that HP/Naruto crossover that's been running through my head. :D The first meeting between the two main characters of the respective series, ne?
...It is freakin' hard writing from a depressed and angry Harry's pov and having his 'angst, angst, angst' interrupted by Naruto, who never allows people to angst properly. :P
Harry refused to look up even when he heard the door open, and then the soft click as it was shut softly. He didn't have to turn his head to see the tufts of bright yellow hair in his peripheral vision, and he scowled deeply, sinking his face deeper into the cradle of his arms in an attempt to make this confrontation go away.
"Wow, you really know how to hide!" came the cheerful voice, louder than what Harry was used to. Everyone spoke softly nowadays, everyone whispered and shifted their eyes around fearfully and even when they laughed, it was soft and barely audible. This man, however, never seemed to notice the peoples' fear of being heard, and he was so loud that his voice often grated on Harry's ears. "You really should teach me how you do that- Neji almost didn't let me leave, and it was really hard to escape from Sakura-chan to find you- you'd think she had eyes in the back of her head or something," the man squinted one eye and pointed to himself as if to make a point, "and she hits really hard, too! It took me forever to escape and find you-"
"Obviously, your definition of forever is different from mine." Harry said bitterly. It had been mere minutes after he had left the meeting, after all, and most people in the Order had learned early on to leave him alone when he needed his space. Harry didn't want to deal with people at the moment, didn't want to deal with all those expectant and hopeful eyes on him, waiting for him to come up with a brilliant plan or move that would end the war once and for all.
He hated that. People had been looking at him like that ever since they found out about the prophesy- and the looks of hate just increased every time there was an attack, a raid, and people died- why haven't you ended this war yet? Why do you keep hesitating? Why aren't you fighting Voldemort head on?
"Well, it seemed like forever to me!" The young man hadn't lost any of his cheerfulness, and ignored all the 'go away' vibes that Harry was trying to emit to cross the room and plop himself down in the chair next to Harry's, legs splayed out in a careless fashion, and arms resting behind his head, a wide grin on his face. Harry could feel the eyes on him. "Or you can tell them it took me forever to find you if you don't want to be dragged back to the meeting yet."
That surprised him, and Harry dared to glance sideways at the other teen.
"Maa," the blond drawled, his eyes closed as he leaned back, looking for all the world like he was ready to catch a nap. He wasn't very tall, so he could rest the back of his neck against the back of the chair, giving him a more comfortable position. "I can see why you left, though! War-talk is depressing, and is everyone on this side as uptight as that bunch?"
Harry narrowed his eyes as the other, lips pulled back to bare his teeth in a challenge. He wanted to be alone, wasn't that obvious enough? Harry didn't want to talk with anyone right now, and especially not with some teen who couldn't be much older than him- one that Harry couldn't offend too much because of the negotiations that still had to be carried out- and a teen that was insulting his friends and comrades.
"You'd think that with this 'magic' of yours," the other man continued on, oblivious to Harry's distaste. "you'd be able to do just about anything you want." One blue eye slitted open at him as the grin grew wider, "but I suppose things get harder when the other side is just as proficient as magic as you, ne?"
"What would you know about war?" Harry bit out, trying to keep his tone calm and contained. The blond was too happy and too careless and nonchalant- how could anyone have expected the help of the shinobi when the man their leader sent was this person? The war with Voldemort was claiming more lives everyday- lives which everyone expected him to save, to prevent their deaths. Even Ginny, even the Weasley family had viewed him with contempt once despite trying to hide the look in their eyes- even Mrs. Weasley had that accusing look when Ginny had died, when Harry had tried everything, everything within his power to save her. Harry scowled unconsciously and moved to get up, stretching his legs out in front of him and dropping his arms from the defensive position they had around his knees. The blond's grin didn't dim as he watched Harry intently, making no move to stop the dark-haired teen.
He didn't need to stop Harry, though.
"I know that it manages to tear apart friends and family. I know it can leave you dead, or wishing for death. I know that you might suddenly find your best friend to be the hardest enemy you have to defeat." the blond's grin eased into a smirk. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"
The somber tone of the statement set Harry offbeat for a moment, and he paused in the middle of reaching out to push himself away from the desk in front of him so he could properly stand. He hadn't known that the man could sound so serious at all, having spent the past two days listening to the group of embassaries through the walls, and hearing that blond as the loudest and most rambunctious of them all.
"But really, that's too hard to think about all the time!" The shinobi nodded sympathetically, "Tsunade would have wanted me to see war analytically and strategically, but Shikamaru's a lot better at that than I am. I just think that we should all try and protect precious people during war." There was a pause. "And try to stay alive as well!"
Stay alive...
Harry attempted to harden his features as the onslaught of past pain hit, and gripped hard on the table before him. Was it selfish of him to rather have died than have to stay alive to the end of the war? Those who died were at peace, and they did not have to face the idea of opening their eyes every morning to shades of grey, to the lack of hope that would dawn. He didn't want to be a part of the war efforts. He didn't want to be the most integral part, most of all.
It would have been so much easier, Harry's thoughts swirled bitterly, if he had died bringing down the Dark Lord when he was a mere babe.
The room was quiet for a while, as if the blond teen was allowing Harry that room to think, giving him time to answer his own question on war.
War is something, Harry's mind answered for him, which should never have to happen.
There was only a few moments of silence before the blond squirmed, though, obviously quite unused to the quiet. "You really are a strange one, you know?" The blond said, but Harry didn't look at him. "Harry Potter, right?"
He didn't want to talk about this, and especially not with someone who couldn't possibly understand; someone who had not even known about the first war with Voldemort, much less his first defeat and the actions of the second war.
Harry shoved at the table harshly, pushing his chair back with a loud screech of wood upon wood, and stood up, muttering an almost incoherent excuse to leave before darting out the door, closing the barrier behind him just to get a solid wall between him and the blond man. He leaned against the door for a moment to let out a tense breath of air before straightening again and walking away, just trying to get as far from the other as he could.
Abrupt ending; sorry, sorry. I wanted them to argue about curse scars and being "special", but Harry didn't want to talk to Naruto at all and he just wanted to get away and I just couldn't force him to stay in the room any longer. ;___; My characters own me. *cries*
...It is freakin' hard writing from a depressed and angry Harry's pov and having his 'angst, angst, angst' interrupted by Naruto, who never allows people to angst properly. :P
Harry refused to look up even when he heard the door open, and then the soft click as it was shut softly. He didn't have to turn his head to see the tufts of bright yellow hair in his peripheral vision, and he scowled deeply, sinking his face deeper into the cradle of his arms in an attempt to make this confrontation go away.
"Wow, you really know how to hide!" came the cheerful voice, louder than what Harry was used to. Everyone spoke softly nowadays, everyone whispered and shifted their eyes around fearfully and even when they laughed, it was soft and barely audible. This man, however, never seemed to notice the peoples' fear of being heard, and he was so loud that his voice often grated on Harry's ears. "You really should teach me how you do that- Neji almost didn't let me leave, and it was really hard to escape from Sakura-chan to find you- you'd think she had eyes in the back of her head or something," the man squinted one eye and pointed to himself as if to make a point, "and she hits really hard, too! It took me forever to escape and find you-"
"Obviously, your definition of forever is different from mine." Harry said bitterly. It had been mere minutes after he had left the meeting, after all, and most people in the Order had learned early on to leave him alone when he needed his space. Harry didn't want to deal with people at the moment, didn't want to deal with all those expectant and hopeful eyes on him, waiting for him to come up with a brilliant plan or move that would end the war once and for all.
He hated that. People had been looking at him like that ever since they found out about the prophesy- and the looks of hate just increased every time there was an attack, a raid, and people died- why haven't you ended this war yet? Why do you keep hesitating? Why aren't you fighting Voldemort head on?
"Well, it seemed like forever to me!" The young man hadn't lost any of his cheerfulness, and ignored all the 'go away' vibes that Harry was trying to emit to cross the room and plop himself down in the chair next to Harry's, legs splayed out in a careless fashion, and arms resting behind his head, a wide grin on his face. Harry could feel the eyes on him. "Or you can tell them it took me forever to find you if you don't want to be dragged back to the meeting yet."
That surprised him, and Harry dared to glance sideways at the other teen.
"Maa," the blond drawled, his eyes closed as he leaned back, looking for all the world like he was ready to catch a nap. He wasn't very tall, so he could rest the back of his neck against the back of the chair, giving him a more comfortable position. "I can see why you left, though! War-talk is depressing, and is everyone on this side as uptight as that bunch?"
Harry narrowed his eyes as the other, lips pulled back to bare his teeth in a challenge. He wanted to be alone, wasn't that obvious enough? Harry didn't want to talk with anyone right now, and especially not with some teen who couldn't be much older than him- one that Harry couldn't offend too much because of the negotiations that still had to be carried out- and a teen that was insulting his friends and comrades.
"You'd think that with this 'magic' of yours," the other man continued on, oblivious to Harry's distaste. "you'd be able to do just about anything you want." One blue eye slitted open at him as the grin grew wider, "but I suppose things get harder when the other side is just as proficient as magic as you, ne?"
"What would you know about war?" Harry bit out, trying to keep his tone calm and contained. The blond was too happy and too careless and nonchalant- how could anyone have expected the help of the shinobi when the man their leader sent was this person? The war with Voldemort was claiming more lives everyday- lives which everyone expected him to save, to prevent their deaths. Even Ginny, even the Weasley family had viewed him with contempt once despite trying to hide the look in their eyes- even Mrs. Weasley had that accusing look when Ginny had died, when Harry had tried everything, everything within his power to save her. Harry scowled unconsciously and moved to get up, stretching his legs out in front of him and dropping his arms from the defensive position they had around his knees. The blond's grin didn't dim as he watched Harry intently, making no move to stop the dark-haired teen.
He didn't need to stop Harry, though.
"I know that it manages to tear apart friends and family. I know it can leave you dead, or wishing for death. I know that you might suddenly find your best friend to be the hardest enemy you have to defeat." the blond's grin eased into a smirk. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"
The somber tone of the statement set Harry offbeat for a moment, and he paused in the middle of reaching out to push himself away from the desk in front of him so he could properly stand. He hadn't known that the man could sound so serious at all, having spent the past two days listening to the group of embassaries through the walls, and hearing that blond as the loudest and most rambunctious of them all.
"But really, that's too hard to think about all the time!" The shinobi nodded sympathetically, "Tsunade would have wanted me to see war analytically and strategically, but Shikamaru's a lot better at that than I am. I just think that we should all try and protect precious people during war." There was a pause. "And try to stay alive as well!"
Stay alive...
Harry attempted to harden his features as the onslaught of past pain hit, and gripped hard on the table before him. Was it selfish of him to rather have died than have to stay alive to the end of the war? Those who died were at peace, and they did not have to face the idea of opening their eyes every morning to shades of grey, to the lack of hope that would dawn. He didn't want to be a part of the war efforts. He didn't want to be the most integral part, most of all.
It would have been so much easier, Harry's thoughts swirled bitterly, if he had died bringing down the Dark Lord when he was a mere babe.
The room was quiet for a while, as if the blond teen was allowing Harry that room to think, giving him time to answer his own question on war.
War is something, Harry's mind answered for him, which should never have to happen.
There was only a few moments of silence before the blond squirmed, though, obviously quite unused to the quiet. "You really are a strange one, you know?" The blond said, but Harry didn't look at him. "Harry Potter, right?"
He didn't want to talk about this, and especially not with someone who couldn't possibly understand; someone who had not even known about the first war with Voldemort, much less his first defeat and the actions of the second war.
Harry shoved at the table harshly, pushing his chair back with a loud screech of wood upon wood, and stood up, muttering an almost incoherent excuse to leave before darting out the door, closing the barrier behind him just to get a solid wall between him and the blond man. He leaned against the door for a moment to let out a tense breath of air before straightening again and walking away, just trying to get as far from the other as he could.
Abrupt ending; sorry, sorry. I wanted them to argue about curse scars and being "special", but Harry didn't want to talk to Naruto at all and he just wanted to get away and I just couldn't force him to stay in the room any longer. ;___; My characters own me. *cries*