A Chance to be Happy

Hey this plot bunny has been bugging me so I’m gonna take a bash at writing it. Updates may be infrequent as I have exams followed by a job in America, but I’ll keep writing ‘til I’m done.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor do I own Harry Potter, I am making no money from this.

Warning this fic will contain SLASH.

Pairings: Definite Harry/Itachi, possible Itachi/Harry/Kakashi (tell me what you think), eventual Naruto/Sasuke, and other minor Slash and Het Pairings.

-xXxXxXx-

Chapter 1: The Uchiha Clan’s Narrow Escape.

Itachi Uchiha walked through the forest about five miles out from the east Konoha wall. He was head towards a peaceful river off the main ninja routes. Spreading out his chakra he surveyed his surroundings, everything seemed quiet, not even the creatures of the forest stirred. It was as if they knew what he planned to do and wished to have no part in such evil. Even he, cold-hearted, cut off, ANBU member wondered if he could actually go through with it. The power was tempting, and he had no doubt that he would even surpass his master Madara Uchiha eventually, if he gained the Mangekyo Sharingan, but could he really kill his best friend? He mentally shook himself (though not visibly, it would not do for an Uchiha to have such indecision showing), setting aside all doubts. His clan – once powerful and majestic had grown fat and complacent during years of peace. It disgusted him to be a member of such failure, only his little brother was worth anything, and even Sasuke was weak and cowardly. Though Itachi mused Sasuke still had time to grow up and become strong if given the right incentive.

Itachi swiftly approached the area he had scouted out only the week before, discreet and enclosed, he had chosen it as he was unlikely to be interrupted. He did a quick scan of the area before pausing in disbelief. There, not two hundred yards upstream from where he had intended to lay his trap, was a boy. A naked boy. Itachi stopped and stared unable to turn his eyes from the sight in front of him.

Water sluiced down skin too pale to be native to the region. The sun filtered through the leafy canopy, glistening off the water droplets hanging in pitch black hair. The boy’s back was to him and Itachi took a moment to appreciate the lithe body, shorter in stature to his own, but with very masculine shoulders tapering to a slender waist and . . . Itachi would have blushed at the sight below that back, well he would have if he hadn’t been an Uchiha.

Itachi, despite telling himself that he wasn’t interested in some boy, crept a few feet nearer to get a better few, just so he could get a better estimate of whether or not the boy was dangerous, of course. At closer inspection, he decided not. The boy’s frame, though it was coated with a light layer of visible muscle certainly hadn’t been trained to the standard one would expect a shinobi to be at. Not to mention the boy was too thin, as if he hadn’t eaten enough for several weeks. His Chakra though present and relatively strong was untrained and wild.

Itachi took one further step forward and the boy’s head shot up scanning the trees around him like a deer that had scented a predator. Itachi didn’t have time to move back to a better hiding spot. He found himself trapped in a bright green daze and felt his world dropped away from round him. Like a Paradigm Shift everything he knew, and everything that was important to him changed in that moment, as he felt a piece of his very soul slot into place, a piece previously missing causing him to feel discontent and pain. This boy, as beautiful in face as in body, was his missing half, his soulmate.

Itachi had always scoffed at the girls of his clan and village, who whispered, behind hands, of soulmates and true love, before giggling and casting longing looks in his direction. He had found the notion ridiculous and a waste of time. But standing stock still and gazing into distrustful green eyes, he found he had to revise that opinion. This boy was his, as if gifted to him by the fates themselves. He was surprised at the amount of possessiveness that that thought brought flooding through his system. That surprise gave him the jolt needed to break eye contact; he let his eyes drifted down the lad’s body, vaguely noting that the front view was as appealing as the back, before flicking his eyes back up to his boy’s face. Itachi eyebrow raised and a small smirk quirked at the side of his mouth as he realised that his perusal had caused the lad to blush an endearing shade of pink.

Feeling more confident Itachi made to step forward, but a flurry of movement, almost faster then his eyes could follow, had him bring his guard up abruptly. He had underestimated the kid, who had climbed out of the stream and reached his clothes before Itachi had taken a step. He fell into a defensive position so he could counteract any attack launched upon him. However the boy seemed much more interested in struggling clothes onto his wet body then sending any weapons Itachi’s way. In fact, now he looked more carefully at the boy’s attire, which he should have done earlier instead of ogling the boy he reprimanded himself, there didn’t appear to be any weapons.

Itachi cautiously made his way into the clearing, stopping a safe distance away, but on the same side of the river as the lad.

“State your name and purpose near the village hidden in the leaves.”

Itachi knew his voice was expressionless and harsh. I was one of the many reasons he made an excellent ANBU interrogator. However instead of becoming scared or defensive as he expected the lad cocked his head to one side as if trying to comprehend what had just been said to him.

Itachi tried again, “I said state your name and purpose.”

The boy abruptly lifted his hand. Thinking it was an attack Itachi drew out a kunai and held it up defensively. The appearance of the weapon made the boy freeze briefly, after a moment though he continued his movements in a slow exaggerated fashion, obviously so Itachi could follow what he was doing.

With growing confusion, not that he would ever show it, Itachi watched the boy make an odd motion over his own throat whilst appearing to mutter something under his breath. He repeated the gesture over each ear then looked up at Itachi before saying is a strangely accented but clear voice.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat what you just said.”

Itachi who was rapidly feeling out of his depth in this situation, an unpleasant feeling that he had seldom felt before, did so.

“I am Harry. My family name is unimportant and I didn’t realise that I was near a village, I have not long arrived and had not got round to exploring.” His voice was an airy melodic tenor but his tone was down to earth and serious, “Am I trespassing? I mean no offence to anyone nor do I mean any harm.”

The boy was telling the truth, Itachi’s Sharingan could find no falsehood in the boy’s, no ‘Harii’s’, demeanour. The wariness in Harii’s stance and voice re-boosted Itachi’s confidence and he approached stopping well inside Harii’s comfort zone if the flinch he received was any indication. However Harii’s attention wasn’t on him, or more specifically it wasn’t on his face, his eyes were glued to Itachi’s kunai. Itachi noticing this gave another smirk, before spinning it round in his hand – a flashy show of how well he could manipulate his weapons, before slipping it seamlessly into his leg pouch.

Harii, to Itachi’s irritation, kept his gaze on where Itachi had just stowed his weapon, so with an internal huff Itachi swept his hand up to catch the beautiful lad under the chin with the palm of his hand. Harii’s head jolted up to look Itachi in the face and both of them froze. Stuck once again within deep green eyes; Itachi found that the feeling of belonging was amplified many times over by the skin to skin contact. From the slim pale hand that came up to grasp at Harii’s chest, as if trying to keep his heart in, Itachi surmised that Harii felt something similar.

What happened next Itachi could not stop anymore then he could stop time. With no conscious control over his limbs Itachi found himself leaning down to brush his lips over Harii’s. Sweetness almost overwhelmed him as he felt his insides ache, and his soul become full. This was what he had been waiting for his whole life; this was the thing which had been missing, why he could never have felt satisfied with just his clan, or just power. Suddenly, realisation hit him. He had almost destroyed this, the killing of his best friend and his clan would have changed him terribly and irreversibly. His soul which matched this angelic boy’s would have shattered making him forever unworthy of his soulmate. He pulled back from the kiss feeling sickness well up inside him. He had almost ruined the only possibility his life had for any meaning. The deaths he had already caused, those of the enemy Nin he had fought, had already cast shadows upon his soul, a lingering darkness that he couldn’t seem to shake off. Was he already too jaded? Looking into the kiss dazed face in front of him he decided that even if he already was too damaged that he didn’t think he had the strength to let go. He would bind this boy to him for eternity with everything he possessed.

Itachi, pulling himself out of his internal turmoil, focused once again on his petite soulmate. However it seemed that in the time that Itachi had been debating with himself, Harii had managed to gather his scattered thoughts and was now trying to escape the grasp on his waist. Itachi blinked in mild surprise he hadn’t even realised that he had curled an arm around Harii’s middle during their brief kiss. He automatically tightened his grip on the squirming body in his arms, panic and fear flitted across Harry’s face before determination set in. The next second Itachi was quickly relinquishing his grip as an unexpected, sharp jolt of electricity went through him.
Harii wasted no time is backing away several meters. Itachi, recovering quickly from the shock, took a purposeful step in Harii’s direction. Fully intending to have his little mate back in his arms – where he obviously belonged. Before he could get within three meters of Harii, the boy gasped, looking over Itachi’s shoulder, and he heard a twig snap behind him. Swinging round, ready to protect his Harii from whoever was approaching, he found . . . nothing. Absolutely nothing, not even a rabbit. Realising the trick he whipped back to where Harry had been stand. He was gone. There wasn’t even a dispersing cloud of dust which would indicate a flicker technique. In fact there was no residue chakra that would suggest any sort of Ninjutsu or Genjutsu. Eventually after searching the clearing for any sign of where Harii had gone and coming up with nothing Itachi left. He had already missed his rendezvous with his bestfriend and the meeting his father had wanted him to attend. He needed to go home and think things through. Then he needed to come up with a plan to find and catch his little soulmate. Plus, he thought darkly, he had to find someway of atoning for his past unneeded violence, and his previous intention of slaughtering his clan. He would be worthy to have his soulmate by his side even if it meant protecting those not worthy of his attention. With this in mind he headed for the Hokage’s office to inform him of the plan to kill the Uchiha clan and ultimately cause civil war in Konoha.
-xXxXxXx-
Harry’s head was spinning, his breath rasping in his throat and his heart pounding as if it was trying to leap out of his chest. One kiss. That was all it has taken, one kiss from that mysterious dark eyed stranger. The kiss hadn’t even been that spectacular either a simple brushing of lips, mouths closed barely any contact at all, but Harry had gone weak at the knees, his head emptying of any rational though. He scoffed in disgust at himself. Severus and Remus would have been ashamed of him after all the months they had spent training him to control his powers and teaching him ways to control and block unwanted emotion and he had fallen apart like a silly fourteen year old girl with her first crush.

A pang went through his heart at the thought of the two men. Missing in action and presumed dead. The words had caused his heart to freeze when they had come out of Dumbledore’s mouth. It had been the second thing he was told when he had woken up on a cold bed in the holding cell of the Ministry of Magic. The first thing he had been told was that Voldemort was finally defeated. Not that he had cared the frantic questions about his mentors and friends had been the first thing to burst from his mouth. The cold abrupt answer had shattered his world. They told him he was under arrest for using an unforgivable and that the Minister and Dumbledore were pushing for the dementor’s kiss – without trial. He hadn’t cared. He was numb on the inside. The only two men who had ever cared enough to try to prepare him for the inevitable physically and emotionally, the only two men who had ever cared about him – Harry, not the boy who lived, not the chosen one, were dead.

Time had passed, how much he hadn’t known, the meagre meals the guards had brought him hadn’t occurred in any regular pattern. Nor had he paid any attention to the taunts from the guards about what his punishment was to be. He was broken inside.

One thing had gotten through to him. They had allowed Tonks into the cell; she had come on the pretence that she wanted to hurt Harry for causing Remus’ death, her husband’s death. Instead when he had looked up at her apathetically she had slapped him . . . hard. Before hissing venomously at him that he was being a fool, that Severus and Remus had fought so that Harry could have a life after defeating Voldemort. She told him that they would be appalled at what he was doing to himself and angry that he was wasting their sacrifice. Her words had snapped him out of his despair and gave him something to cling to; he would get through this alive – for them. Smiling when she saw him alert and thinking clearly she pressed a small coin to him and told him to swallow it. He did so and she informed him that it was a portkey that Kingsley had organised ‘to a place no one would ever look for him’. She hugged him fiercely and told him that he must wait until he was in the chamber where the Dementor’s Kiss was administered – where it could get through the wards, before activating it with the words ‘no fear’. She had left quickly after that but not before reassuring him that by the time she could be linked to his escape she would be safely hidden away.

Harry had momentarily worried that he might not be brought for the kiss before the portkey passed through his body. He needn’t have been concerned though because not two hours after Tonks had departed he had been escorted (bound it heavy manacles) to the Wizengamot chamber. Dumbledore and Fudge (seemingly in agreement for once in their lives) had sneeringly told him that he was sentenced to The Kiss. Fudge had continued to mock him, asking if the Great Harry Potter was afraid. To this Harry had smiled and straightened, looking Dumbledore straight in the eyes he had pronounced to the room “I have no fear”. The smile had remained as he felt the familiar tug behind his navel and had a split second view at the horrified dawning looks of realisation of Dumbledore and Fudge’s faces before he was whisked away in a blur of colours.

The portkey had taken much longer then usual, but he had eventually arrived, collapsed in an ungraceful pile on the floor of a lush green forest.

That had been a week ago, since then he had set out and found a nice quiet glade with a stream near by. With a mixture of a small amount wandless magic and manual labour he had set up a small three roomed cottage and erected a set of wards using runes to make it invisible and unplottable to those who didn’t know it was there. He had just finished putting the last touches to the wards and had decided to cool off in the stream when the dark eyed stranger had show up.

The memory of the heated look in the man’s eyes when he had seen Harry bathing caused Harry to blush and tingles to run the length of his spine. He frowned, shaking off the thought that maybe he had enjoyed the stranger’s appreciation, and contemplated what to do. If he stayed here then the man, who had some odd form of power that allowed him to move at lightening speeds, might come back possibly bringing others with him. But if he left then it was a waste of his time and effort in building his cottage and setting the wards not to mention he might be discovered again. He would stay, he decided, at least for now. However he would have to be much more careful about checking for others before he left the safety of his wards.

-xXxXxXx-

Wow already three thousand word I think this is the longest chapter I have ever written for any story, and I have already started on the next. Please do review and tell me what you think, I will try and get the next chapter out within the week.