Tests and Returns
Harry, on the other hand, was in Nerima facing down an extremely elderly woman. "Come with me, sonny," she informed him, leading him out to an empty lot.
"Now, we Chinese Amazons have a lot of traditions," she began, "and none of them are more respected than skill. If we're to send people to your lands, we need to know what your skill level is."
Harry blinked at the declaration, saying, "In that case, I'm gonna suck. According to local rumor, the average Nerima resident has a black belt in something. I really don't think I'm anywhere near that level yet."
"We'll see. There will be two tests, One is of purely martial skill, the other is for you to use everything at your disposal. Are you prepared?"
Harry shrugged, popping his neck. "I guess so. Let's get this done."
"Excellent. Son-In-Law! Is she ready?"
A slightly older (than Harry) man stepped up, dressed in red and black, with leather bracers on his forearms. "Yeah, she's ready," he admitted, "but are ya sure there's no other way?"
"Positive. She merely has to do well in this test. She's been training most of her life; if she's not ready yet, Saotome, she never will be."
Finally, a young lady, also a little older than Harry, stepped out in a faded yellow gi. Her short, dark blue hair highlit her attractive face, but her face was marred by anger.
"I am Akane Tendo, of the Tendo School of Indiscriminate Grapplig," she declared, bowing sharply to Harry.
Harry had already set down his backpack, coat, and walking stick. Bowing in return, he replied, "I am Harry Potter, of no known school."
"I want an honorable fight," Saotome spoke up, standing between them. "Nothing cheap, no throwing dirt, and no bone breaking Akane. Begin!"
Akane lunged forward, her fist moving almost faster than Harry could track. Dodging and rolling, he changed the feed on his glasses to see ki. Suddenly, Harry could see Akane boosting herself, and began doing the same.
Ducking a backhand, Harry slammed three fists into her side before she swept him away with a kick. Rolling away, Harry popped up to his feet for his own charge, sweeping her punch away as he landed a solid punch to her inner bicep, spun, and barely missed an elbow strike to her head as she ducked, her palm lashing out to slam into his shoulder.
Spinning away with the force, Harry ducked two elbow strikes, one knee at his groin, and an axe kick before he relocated his shoulder. Burning magic into his limbs, reinforcing his body, he lunged forward, bodily picking up the slightly smaller girl to suplex her. Akane caught herself on her hands and, with a deft hip twist, locked Harry's neck between her knees.
Harry, now more than a little angry, grabbed a toe and twisted. Akane screamed, but the pressure on his neck released enough for him to slide out of the clench, moving to roll forward as he leveled a mule kick behind him, Harry wasn't certain where it landed, but by her enraged bellow, he could guess.
"YOU PERVERT!" she screamed, her fists now glowing crimson as Harry moved, occasionally peppering her limbs with precise strikes, knowledge learned from half a dozen people flowing through his fingers and fists until, finally, Akane collapsed in a boneless heap.
Both were panting hard, Akane on the ground, still growling, and Harry, bent over with his hands on his knees. Harry could see the bootprint over her left breast; he had guessed correctly.
Reaching down, Harry cast a silent spell, healing the nerve bruising from the pressure points he'd used. Finally, he held his hand out, saying, "Damn good fight, miss."
She took his hand, and let him help her up before brushing dirt off of her gi. "You're not bad," Akane admitted. "Pressure points?"
Harry shrugged, saying, "Not my favorite, but they worked."
"The winner is Harry Potter," Ranma announced, still glaring at Cologne.
"Oh, don't look so sour, Son-In-Law. While she didn't win, she made a good showing. She will be taught. How are you faring, sonny?"
"Not bad," Harry commented. "She didn't land much, but she has me beat on strength, endurance and toughness. I'm pretty sure that I was too quick, but I just don't have the conditioning. She could've easily ran me ragged until I fell over. Another fifteen seconds would've done it for me."
"That was my summation as well," Cologne allowed. "What about you, girl?"
Akane suddenly looked bashful as she replied, "He's fast. Really fast. Not Ranma's level of fast, but really quick. But the points he hit... there's no bruising. With how he hit me, there should be bruising."
"Later, child," Cologne spoke. "Get yourself home. You've done well. Not well enough to challenge Shampoo, but still," she ended with a cackle.
Akane stomped off, as Harry asked, "Elder, what was all that about? I came here to talk about the future, not... whatever that was."
"The short answer," Cologne began, lighting her pipe, "is that the youngest Tendo daughter wants to increase her skills, and her overly emotional failure of a father won't teach her. So she came to me. I offered her a choice: either give up on Saotome, or do this favor for me. She chose the favor.
"As for your part, I wasn't kidding when I said that I needed to appraise your skills. I am curious where you learned the accupressure material from."
"A combination of Aikido training, a Healer, and a very skilled knife wielder," Harry admitted. "So, what's next?"
"Next, you fight Shampoo," Cologne replied as the lavender haired girl stepped out, a pair of colorful maces in her hands and a determined expression on her face. "The only rule is no permanent damage. If it can be healed from, it's allowed."
"Miss," Harry began, "are you alright with with this?"
"Shampoo not lose," she replied calmly. "Shampoo pass this test as she has all others. You, me, we fight now."
Harry picked back up his coat and walking stick. Settling back into the comfort, he took a casually ready stance.
With a scream, Shampoo flickered forward, catching Harry almost unready with the sheer speed of her lunge. Ducking, Harry caught her knee with his forearm before jumping straight up, pushing her arms aside with his shoulders and barely managing to clip her chin with his knee.
Shampoo ducked down and sideways, slamming her mace into his side where it stopped cold, Harry was already in motion in the way down, cracking the side of her head with his cane. Shampoo rocked a bit, but it at least allowed Harry to cast the non-stick cooking charm on her before rolling away.
Grunting, Shampoo steadied herself (somehow!) with absolutely no traction. Harry didn't pause. Taking the lessons from Shenhua (namely, nailing someone's foot to the floor), he transfigured the earth at her feet into stone that flowed up her shins, locking her in place. Then Harry lunged forward, cane lashing out.
Only to slide off of her forearm without any resistance. Shampoo grinned before open-palming him in the chest, where his coat didn't cover. Harry flew backwards, almost to the end of the lot before catching himself.
Looking up, he saw Shampoo still smirking at him, even as a pair of finger taps shattered the stone encompassing her feet. Barely staggering forward, maintaining her balance under the non-stick, she inexorably trudged forward towards Harry.
Harry released the spell, causing her to stumble as he charged in, banishing away both of her maces. That's when he realized his error. As it happened, Shampoo was handicapping herself.
Her speed was overwhelming. Harry could barely keep up with dodging, and Shampoo was effortlessly flowing around his strikes, and the few that landed seemed to do nothing at all. Finally, Harry got desperate.
Ducking back, he cast a low-powered Bombarda charm. The ground between them exploded, and it was Shampoo's turn to go flying. Harry pursued, now rather angry as he slowly stepped forward, silently casting as he went.
Instantly, Shampoo was grabbed by the earth as it wrapped around her body, encasing her up to her neck before transforming into iron. Harry gestured, and the sarcophagus moved towards the center of the lot.
"Will that do?" Harry groaned out to Cologne.
"It will indeed, sonny," the elder smiled. "Please let Shampoo go, and we can take the time to talk."
Harry reversed the spell, setting Shampoo gently onto the ground. She got up, bowed low to him, and left to retrieve her maces.
"Have a seat, sonny," Cologne said, and Harry transfigured a pair of chairs for them. "Interesting. And useful," she commented, before sitting.
"Now, you want to know the why of the tests, yes?" Harry nodded, pulling out his water bottle and taking a deep pull. "Against the Tendo girl, I wanted to see your pure martial ability. Your form has it's roots in Aikido, but there are elements there that I'm unfamiliar with. You did well against her, successfully leveraging your speed against her endurance. You also managed to bypass her trained durability. Your win against what is honestly the least competent among us is a fair and honest win.
"As for the fight against Shampoo," she moaned out, "what compelled you to do so poorly, sonny? I expected better from a mage."
Harry considered that for a moment, before replying, "I don't think I've been in a fight in the last four months that didn't end up with somebody dead. I know an awful lot of lethal stuff, but not a lot of nonlethal. My preferred method would have been to levitate her off the ground, and then fill her full of holes with the piercing charm. Ah, I see that you see," he answered Cologne's upraised eyebrows. "I am no stranger to killing, but I never want to do it without a direct need."
"Good, good," Cologne nodded out. "I saw several problems with your martial form. Have you never heard of a leg sweep?"
Harry shrugged, answering, "I tend to go for knee breakers. Nerve strikes, bone breakers, joint dislocators. If I've got a knife, the nerve strikes become more permanent. That is my training, elder. Because sometime you just have to gut a motherfucker."
Cologne sighed heavily, shaking her head. "I would dearly love seeing you in a proper fight, rather than a testing spar. Basically, as much as Shampoo limited herself with her maces, you limited your capability because you couldn't kill?"
Harry shook his own head in disagreement. "Not at all. I would've restricted myself anyways, because it was a test, and I'm pretty sure you don't want Shampoo dead. No, if I'd had about another minute of warning, I could've come up with something less embarrassing."
"That was embarrassing, sonny," Cologne inserted. "But I got what I was looking for. How long have you been training?"
"In speed and dodging, probably my whole life," Harry admitted. "In combat... September, I think? Yeah, early September," Harry said, secretly reveling in the elderly woman's shock. "September fourth was when I really began properly training. Everything before that was make-do. I'm amazed I survived it," Harry admitted with a chuckle.
"And when do you leave Japan?"
"Tuesday, ma'am."
"Damn!" she swore, slamming the tip of her cane into the ground. "Is there no way I can convince you to stay for better training?"
"I'm afraid not," Harry replied. "I have responsibilities that require I go back to Britain. Mind you, I'll still be training," Harry continued in a mollifying tone, "just not in any pure sort of martial arts form."
"I see. Damn. Oh, how did the Tendo girl come away with no bruises? You were punching her at full power in the nerve clusters."
"Healing spell," Harry gave up. "As it turns out, I'm really talented at healing. A silent healing spell, and she was good. No nerve bruising, no marks on the skin."
"Hmf. In my day, it was a symbol of honor and dedication to show your training bruises," Cologne grumbled out. "Tell me sonny, what was your take on Sailor Moon?"
"Passionate about helping people," Harry instantly answered, "if not the most well trained or capable. Knowing what I know now, I'm pretty sure she had a bit of a suicide wish, the way she threw herself into combat when she was in way over her head. I'm hoping she's doing a bit better now."
"Well, you would know," Cologne replied knowingly, a sly grin creeping across her face. "Oh, I know who she is, and so do you. I saw the two of you come out of the Crown several times over the week. You and Usagi are far too close for you to not be aware."
"And what's your interest?" Harry asked neutrally, aware that the old woman could most likely counter anything he could attempt at her if she intended to use or endanger Usagi.
Hah!" Cologne cackled out. "She's a born warrior! She could come to our village tomorrow, and be welcomed with open arms. No tests, no challenges, just acceptance into the warrior sisterhood. She has more than earned her place in the Village of the Woman Warrior, sonny.
"But for now," she continued, "I have Mousse and Shampoo training her when she can spare the time. Given her school schedule, I'm not faulting her for wanting to keep her parents happy and in the dark. But I dearly wish that I could properly train the girl. She has so much potential."
"I agree. So, shall we move somewhere warmer?"
"Oh, goodness yes. This chill isn't good for these old bones, and skill only compensates for age for so long."
The rest of the day involved Harry and Cologne going over the new revision of Yamatai's rebuilding, while both Mousse and Shampoo looked at Harry with a new respect. Harry even managed to trade his healing services to Cologne (at 130 years old, she was very old, and between age and old scars, she wasn't moving around as easily as she used to) for an almost complete stock of the Jusenkyo Catalog.
As Harry left for the train station, he heard a voice call out, "Hey, you got a minute?"
Turning, Harry replied,"Sure, Saotome. Walk with me to the train station."
Ranma fell in next to Harry, asking, "So why'd you go through with the test?"
Harry sort of shrugged. "Seemed like the thing to do. And it helped me to figure out some of where I'm at."
Ranma nodded at that. "I get ya. Sometimes you gotta test yourself. Still, what's your deal with the Old Ghoul?"
"You mean Cologne?" Ranma nodded. "That's between me, her, and her village. We're working something out that should benefit all of us."
"Just be careful," Ranma warned. "She's cagey, manipulative, and skilled. The Amazons have it all for martial arts techniques. Hell, they even have a memory modifying pressure point technique! So keep up your guard."
"I'll keep that in mind. This is my spot," Harry said as they approached the platform. "Thanks for the warning. Any last advice before I go?"
Ranma scratched the back of his head for a moment. "Yeah. Ya got some good basics, but your overall form is crap. You need to range out, find what works for you, then make it your own."
"I've been doing that," Harry noted, "but I'll keep going with it. My main problem in the fights was the 'No Permanent Injury' restriction. If I hadn't been under a set of rules, or if I had been in genuine danger of death, both Akane and Shampoo would be in bits scattered across that empty lot."
"What do you mean?" Ranma asked nervously.
Harry sighed at the question. "Saotome, I'm up to my armpits in blood from defending me and mine. I slaughtered my way across a lost island kingdom full of cannibal sun cultists, killed people threatening my sister in Thailand, and murdered a bunch of slaving scum in Burma. Dealing out death is no stranger to me, but I'm really careful with who gets that treatment. If Akane or Shampoo had really been out to kill me, I would have gutted them, rules be damned."
Ranma sighed, nodding his head. "I understand. Ya gotta do what you do, and it's a martial artist's duty to protect the weak. Sometimes there's no good options, so ya pick the least bad one."
"Exactly correct. Here's my train; good luck out there."
"You too, Potter."
On Monday, Harry got together with Usagi, and as they walked, she giggled. "They're all whispering now, Harry. You showed up, and then we disappeared? One of the rumors is that we eloped!"
"People have too much free time on their hands," Harry commented with a smile. "But so long as you're entertained..."
"So, what are we doing today?" she asked, looking adorable in Harry's Russian greatcoat.
"I had an idea," Harry admitted as the pair turned, arm in arm, down a different street, "if you're willing. I'd like to take a magical look at your transformation. I wonder if there isn't more to it than you think."
Usagi considered that before saying, "I don't see any problems with that. Do you have a plan, or will we be doing this in your bag?"
"I have a plan," Harry replied, stopping. "But it involves something that might be really unpleasant. Like, 'throwing up for a while' unpleasant."
"Is it unsafe?" she asked, looking up into his eyes with her own trusting blue ones.
"Not at all."
"Then I still trust you, Harry," she answered with a soft smile.
Usagi let herself be led into an alley, and then promptly blushed as he firmly hugged her. She felt a squeezing sensation, and then the wind picked up much more strongly than before. Harry let her go, and then stared. "No nausea?" Usagi shook her head, still looking into his eyes. "Wow. I hurled myself empty the first few times that happened to me."
Harry let her go so that she could look around. And then she gasped. Seemingly all of Tokyo lay below her, as she was atop the Shinjuku Park Tower, more than two hundred meters in the air. "Beautiful," she whispered, looking across the city. And then she caught herself. Turning to look back at Harry, she asked, "So, do I just transform?" Harry nodded, wand already in hand. Thrusting her hand into the air, she felt an almost exhibitionistic thrill as she shouted, "Moon Prism Power, Make Up!"
Instantly, the comforting energies cocooned her, and she could feel her clothes vanish, replaced by the leotard, mini-skirt, and the ribbons. Finally, she came out of it to see Harry's shocked face, his mouth open as some sort of numbers picked out in light flickered above his left hand.
"Harry?" she asked, a little nervous.
"Holy shit, that was hot," Harry whispered hoarsely. Usagi blushed a little at his admission. And then Harry shook his head, returning his attention back to whatever spell he'd cast.
And then he frowned, before waving his wand several times while muttering in a foreign language. "Weird," Harry commented before looking up at her. "Okay, there's an odd bit in all of this. It seems that there's more to the transformation, like more power is designed to be unlocked at intervals that I can't make sense of," Harry said. "These symbols," he continued, gesturing at the feed above his left hand, "all indicate the various magical readings that your transformation gives off. Right... here is when the power gets throttled, limited. I'm wondering what future iterations are in store for you, and what the unlocking conditions are."
"I'd have to ask Luna," Usagi replied, not being able to make any sense of the symbols. "She'd know more than either of us."
"Probably," Harry allowed. "Still, I have the entire sequence recorded in a book in the library I keep in my pack, so I'll take a closer look at it later. So, what would you like to do now?"
The pair spent the next two hours atop the building, with Usagi being held close under Harry's coat as they talked and chatted while gazing out at the Tokyo skyline.
Later, Harry was walking Usagi back to the Crown when she stopped. "I wish you didn't have to go back to England, Harry."
"I feel the same way, Usagi," Harry admitted sadly, drawing her close as the light snow fell around them, the streetlights softly illuminating the sidewalk. "But I really do have to."
"I know," she softly replied, her cheek against his chest,"and I hate it. Would you like to keep in touch?"
"I would love that," Harry answered warmly, keeping the hug close. "I have an address that I can give you to write to me; we can keep in touch through the magical letter method. Later on, I can give you my personal phone number so you can call me whenever you want."
"I don't think that Mom would like the charges if I called England," Usagi smiled out past her tears.
"It's a satellite phone," Harry stated, "and once they get the satellites in place, there wouldn't be any charges; it'd be a local number."
"That sounds fantastic."
"And, if you're a very good girl," Harry added, humor lacing through his voice, "maybe Santa will bring you your own sat-phone for Christmas."
Usagi leaned back, looking confused. "Santa? I don't understand."
"In Europe, Santa Claus bring Christmas presents to good girls and boys," Harry explained.
"But in Japan, Santa dies on the cross so that we could have Kentucky Fried Chicken on Christmas," Usagi countered in a serious tone. Until she couldn't keep a straight face with Harry's sheer confusion. "Sorry, it's a joke that we make at Americans. And I would love," she continued, hugging Harry close, "for Santa to let me be able to talk to you whenever I want."
They stayed that way for several more minutes before Harry whispered, "I'm afraid that this is goodbye for now, Usagi. Tomorrow's portkey leaves before you get out of school."
"I know," she whispered back, keeping him close. "I wish I could see you off."
"So do I. But it's not in the cards. I am so sorry."
"It's okay," Usagi replied, smiling as she broke the hug before wiping her eyes. "We'll write to each other, maybe send pictures?"
"Absolutely," Harry agreed, wiping tears from his own eyes.
Following an urge, Usagi lunged forward, kissing Harry gently but firmly on his lips for several seconds. "Goodbye for now, Harry."
"Goodbye for now, Usagi," Harry replied before she stepped out of his embrace and walked away.
The next day, Harry was at the portkey terminal as he marveled that it had been Halloween, and the only bad thing that had happened was that he had to bid farewell to a very good friend. A portion of his mind was urging him to accept it as potentially more, but he quashed that, merely accepting that he had made new friends.
As the portkey to London activated, Harry wondered if he had finally broken the Halloween Curse he found himself suffering, as well as mildly wondering what everyone else had gotten up to in his absence.