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English
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Part 1 of Green and Gold
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Inuyasha Fanfiction
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Published:
2014-06-21
Updated:
2020-09-01
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258,380
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16/?
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Green and Gold

Summary:

Due to the newest crop of alleged Death Eater sightings overseas, British Division Head Auror, Lord Harry Potter, was sent to Muggle Japan to thwart the renegade from performing another Dark Resurrection Ritual on a sacred site, thereby from desecrating a national magical monument―the Bone Eater's Well. For his troubles he lands himself as the minder of a 500-or-so year-old dog daiyoukai his magic tore from a distant past. Aloof and flexible morals aside, he doesn't know what to make of the feudal lord and sovereign. Yet. Similarly, Sesshomaru cannot help but be intrigued.

In the meantime, a storm is brewing in both eras, both in the magical UK and magical Japan...and perhaps even in Europe or America itself.

SFW VERSION: fanfiction.net
TUMBLR: Inspirations & Sneak Peeks
PLAYLIST: Soundtrack
DELETED SCENES: Tales of Natsukashii

(ON TEMPORARY HIATUS)

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes and other works inspired by this one.)

Chapter 1: Prologue

Notes:

I've decided to create an A03 account for this story in particular. Just in case...fair warning, the "steamy romance" will take quite a few chapters to build up to, as I'm trying to keep them as in-character as I can, but it's worth the payoff!

TRIGGER WARNINGS: eventual graphic or disturbing imagery/events (deaths and violence), eventual adult content, eventual possessive behavior, manipulative behavior, mentions of past abuse and PTSD, and scatterings of coarse language and bigotry. The eventual main pairing is a homosexual relationship. You have been warned.

DISCLAIMERS: "Green and Gold" is inspired by the "Harry Potter" (book series and movies) and the "Inuyasha: a Feudal Fairy Tale" (anime and movies) franchises! Credit is due to JK Rowling and Rumiko Takahashi for their masterpieces. Thank you for crafting such inspiring, lovely works for the generations!

SFW VERSION: on fanfiction.net
DELETED SCENES: Tales of Natsukashii
TUMBLR: Hints & Sneak Peeks
STORY PLAYLIST: "Green and Gold" Mix | List of Songs
ART: Please see Green and Gold: Art Masterpost for more.

Chapter Text

"We've arrived at the Higurashi Shrine, Pottā-sama," the Asian wizard moonlighting as a Muggle taxi driver said respectfully, pulling the car to a smooth stop along the curb. The stars stood out among the dark night sky, beautiful in this wondrous occasion. Dark eyes surveyed the still figure in the back seat, said infamous wizard who had his eyes closed throughout the long drive from the Apparition Point in the Narita Airport. With an awed smile, the young man lowered his gaze reverently from the Boy-Who-Lived. Turning the ignition off, he added, "I shall accompany you to the spiritual grounds as per Shacklebolt-san's request."

"No need, Takeda-Mushin-san," the posh but gentle British accent startled the Japanese man. Bright Avada Kedavra eyes snapped open. Without his trademark eyewear, the Head Auror's sight was sharp and penetrative, honed by years of hard experience during the War and its aftermath. Takeda-Mushin Kohaku suppressed a shudder as those green lasers levelled off to the side, taking in their immediate surroundings with a trained eye. "What I have to do from here on out is considered classified by the British and Japanese Ministries." As if realizing the callousness of the dismissal, the Auror added almost hastily, "You have my thanks though for taking me this far, Agent, as well as having the gratitude of our department."

Kohaku nodded numbly, his shoulders slumping against the stalwart force that made up the well-known Potter stubbornness. There was no resistance to be offered once the wizard had his mind made up. Lord Potter Harry seemed to have gathered enough intelligence for the while for the wizard reached into his pockets, digging around for the Galleon-converted-into-Muggle fare and depositing the appropriate amount into waiting hands.

"You said the family has been notified?"

"Yes, Pottā-sama," he responded dutifully. "The grounds are open to your investigation for the time you are here. With the exception of Higurashi Kagome, the entire Higurashi family is awaiting your exalted presence."

"There's no need for deference," the Auror replied bemusedly, patting his pockets for a quick examination of his miniaturized inventory. "You may just call me Potter-san, not 'sama.' I tell you what, after this is done, what say you to a friendly round of drinks with our friends? I owe you for utilizing your contacts effectively under tight time constraints."

Kohaku raised an eyebrow at the forwardness of the invite. "Not that I mean you offense, but surely you would have more important things to do?"

Lord Potter was giving him an odd look. The foreigner then chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, that's not a resounding rejection from you at least. Trust me, after securing the area, I'll need a stiff drink to loosen up. Companionship is just a perk."

"If that is what'll make you happy, Pottā-sama."

With a final perusal of his person, one media-toted wizard extraordinaire wrenched open the left door handle and, much to Kohaku's protests, got out of the taxi before the Japanese wizard could release the remote latch. Under his trained eye, Kohaku could make out the vague shape of the notorious Holly wand sliding down his arm from the wand holster hidden under the Brit's grey suit. There was a quick wave and incantation to ward against any eavesdroppers as the Lord Potter trotted over to the driver's window, gesturing for the window to be rolled down. The Englishman leaned down to whisper, "For appearance's sake, I'll give you a call when I need to be 'picked up.' Until then, you are relieved of your escort duty from me."

"Of course." Kohaku bowed his head deeply. Kohaku turned the spluttering engine back on and pulled away from the Higurashi property without a backward glance, pulling away from the soil where his ancestors—one yōkai taijiya and one monk—had pledged their eternal loyalty and protection over even in their deaths, a vow that the Takeda-Mushin descendants honored today.


Harry smiled politely, waving goodbye until the black Sedan turned the corner and sped down the inclined hill. What a nice boy Takeda-Mushin was. While he had taken a light nap in the backseat, he could feel the lingering glances the Japanese agent kept tossing his way.

In a way, he reminded Harry of the deceased Colin Creevey. That particular brand of hero worship seemed to follow Harry wherever he traveled. It no longer bothered him that his fame had crossed over English soil. Over the years, he had learned to take the reverence his presence brought to the masses with tired resignation rather than his teenage indignation and embarrassment.

He turned tail and took a deep inhale of wet grass and the heady scent of pine as he traversed the stone pavement.

There was something magical about each country's attempted preservation of its culture. But there was something even more special in the European and Asian ones. Japan was a ridiculously pretty country, in Harry's humble opinion. While Muggle Japan was technologically advanced than its British counterpart, underneath all the electricity and nuclear power a trace of Old Magic could be detected from beneath the cherry blossom canopies to the planted hydrangeas. It was a very different scenery from Little Whinging, Surrey and its rows and rows of identical houses in the tiny suburbia. Even here the well-preserved architecture bespoke of its owners' care and love of history. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the time long ago when wizards and magical creatures roamed free on the Japanese lands without fear of Muggle persecution.

While a nice thought, he was not here to play tourist. Not wasting any more time loitering, Harry quickly whipped out his Invisibility Cloak, enlarged it, and obscured himself in the Deathly Hallow.

Although the Muggles were aware of his visitation, they were under the impression that he was a sightseeing diplomat intrigued by Japan's rich culture. His appearance was to be hush-hush to avoid the media catching wind of his arrival. Harry snorted mentally. If only they knew. Unbeknownst to them, Head Auror Harry James Potter was flown here to investigate the unusual readings the Unspeakables had caught several months ago. The Honekui no Ido, Harry had registered among the confused murmurings of the Japanese Ministry when he'd sent his official papers requesting to study one of their treasured historical monuments. Though it was far out of the British Ministry's jurisdiction, his name alone had done wonders currying pardons for imposing on their sovereignty.

Underneath the cloth, he levelled his wand precariously upon his palm as he whispered a point-me spell for the elusive Bone Eater's Well. His Holly wand spun lazily before stilling, its tip pointing to the west.

Quickening his pace but keeping his footfalls ever so silent, Harry went in the direction his wand was insisting to be tracked like a hyperactive puppy. Cicadas were buzzing louder in his ears the deeper he got into sacred grounds. Mindlessly following and ignoring the foreboding that was churning in his gut, he mentally reviewed Shacklebolt's missive before he was given the International Portkey and told to shove off immediately.

It was incredible how even a mere rumor of a rogue Death Eater performing Dark Magic in a sacred location was enough to send the Ministry hollering for their savior of the wizarding world to clean up the remaining mess.

Harry grumbled under his breath. Blasted Death Eaters and their tenacity. Ever since he took down Voldemort, the number of Death Eaters remaining had dwindled down to a small number of fugitives that just refused to turn themselves in. Ever since his inauguration as Head Auror, his ramshackle department had connected the desecrations of various national monuments and mystic places to the desperate attempts of the Death Eaters reviving their Dark Lord.

Loathe as the international magical communities were to admit their involvement, it was originally the Brits' mess that was impugning on their territories and therefore it was the Brits' responsibility to contain the situation before it evolved into national concern. Cue Harry Potter and his ragtag team of Aurors to swoop in to save the day and kiss political arse. He and his team had been around Africa, the Middle East, China, DPRK, the States, and now the land of the rising sun.

This time however he was on a solo mission as a "free agent," considering he had advanced his prior knowledge of the nuances of the Japanese language and culture from his spontaneous exposures to Dudley's clandestine fascination with colorful, English-subbed anime whenever Vernon wasn't looking. Coincidentally his friends and team had busied themselves with prior engagements at this juncture when the announcement to move out was made, so by process of elimination and merit, he was chosen to go.

The Japanese were honored to have his gracious presence on their soil, though it was agreed among the British staff that no mention of Harry's real purpose was to be revealed upon risk of endangering the situation. Harry James Potter and nosy, suspicious officials did not mix well together, as he and his team had learned throughout their worldwide jaunts.

Breathing in the rotted wood and grassy scent, Harry came to a stop before a small building, smaller than the other shrine-like buildings. His wand was practically vibrating in his hand like a smug bloodhound as he cast a dubious eye over the unkempt structure. This was the hidey hole of the sacred well? Looking around his surroundings, he nodded to himself and slid the wooden doors open.

The interior was dark and surprisingly larger than he had expected from its unassuming façade. Sliding the doors closed behind him, he cast a silent but weakened version of lumos, the muted light quickly bringing him up to date of his current surroundings. His nose wrinkled as he stepped into the shrine, the rank of damp wood and stale water repugnant the further he tiptoed inside. Keeping his eyes and ears vigil, he didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed that there were no Death Eater in sight.

"Ah, well, he could be hiding," Harry muttered to himself, sheathing his wand once more in his quick-draw holster after no one responded. His gut was telling him the fugitive he was looking for wasn't here. Straightening up, he cautiously made his way to the rickety fence erected around what seemed to be a ceremonial space, if the unsealed wooden well lying down in the middle had anything to do with it. His brows furrowed as he spotted birch and fern lying adjacent on the ground to the gaping maw as well as small footsteps that led into it. Birch and fern, both were used as conduits to ward off negativity and promote protection and purification. He got on his knees, picking up a sliver which was cracked in the middle, as if someone had stepped on it, and bringing it for a closer inspection. He looked at the fresh track marks and back at the sliver, then divested his attention back onto the well. His eyes squinted. And almost hidden behind the structure was what appeared to be a discarded wooden lid the perfect shape and size for sealing a certain Honekui no Ido. Curiouser and curiouser.

His instincts were buzzing angrily that something was up. And that something had to do with the Japanese national monument. He crept closer and closer until he was peering into the well. It was here that he got a strong whiff of floral perfume mixed with wet dog.

The combination smelt awful. He sneered, biting his lip. Taking shallow breaths, he pondered aloud, "But this doesn't make sense. Obviously someone jumped into…."

Brows climbing further and further up into his forehead, he cast another lumos, this time at full force. The magical light chased away the darkness but not to his surprise it failed to illuminate the deepest depths.

Scritch. Scritch.

The hair at the back of Harry's neck stood up. The sound was coming from…

Scritcccccccccch.

"Riddikulus!" the jet of light shot down the well, before finally rebounding against the ground and coming back up in a big but muted flash of color. The sound paused. For good measure, he threw an Expecto Patronum after it.

The scratching, if his imagination could be believed, intensified after that spell. Now instead of tentatively scratching, it sounded like whatever the entity that was making the sound was now clawing at something to get to him. Mid-cast stupefy, his ears picked up on what had to be undiscernible, muffled words interluded between the violence wrought against whatever was containing the entity from attaining its freedom.

Harry's eyes widened. Lowering his wand, he shouted urgently, too excited to remember he was not in England, "Hello? Can you hear me? Hello?"

The well trembled as soon as he said those words, and Harry could feel the surge of magic being pressed from within the cavern depths like a great tsunami force crashing against a cliff. Exhilaration washed through him. Death Eater or not, whoever this was was magical and in dire need of assistance. Grasping the edge of the well, he swore, "Listen, you're trapped under a barrier. I'm going to get you out!" His eardrums roared with pounding blood as he raised his wand and he bellowed, "Finite Incantatem! Accio!"

What sounded like wood splitting broke through the barrier savagely and what launched up was a blur of white that was hurled viciously over his head from the forcefulness of the intent behind the incantation. Splinters rained down upon Harry's head and he ducked down as whatever landed behind him hit the ground in a loud crash that kicked up a cloud of dust when it landed.

Eyes tearing, Harry coughed and coughed as he cast scourgify after scourgify. "Are you alright?" he wheezed, tasting sawdust and wet dustbunnies at the back of his throat. "Sorry, I hadn't meant to put that much power behind—"

A chilling growl assaulted his ears, and as the dust cloud was waived away Avada Kedavra green met blazing molten gold.

"Oh!"


Lord Sesshomaru of the West had been inspecting the borders of his territory when he sensed a foreign surge of yōki deep into the forest. Giving his human charge and Jaken a quelling glare, with a miffed expression only few could recognize he had flown to the destination via orb. Dropping down, he instantly materialized in front of what was a familiarly decrepit, manmade well. A thin eyebrow rose. This was the same well that he associated with the human miko and his hanyou brother. Leaves whispered in the distance and blades of grass crunched underneath his feet as he drew closer to the structure with much caution. Canting his head, silvery white locks pooled over his shoulders as he peered down at the lid of the sealed well.

The full moon illuminated his imposing, motionless figure as he quietly studied the source of the foreign spike. Whatever secret the well withheld was a potent enigma that bore further watching and yet…those golden orbs hardened. He could not ignore a threat to his lands. This yōki was nothing he had ever encountered before, and whoever was hiding within the bowels of the pathetic structure needed to be interrogated. In a composed tone that demanded immediate answer, he scratched at the lid with one long claw and commanded, "This Sesshomaru has no time for games. Present yourself."

The pulse of foreign yōki swelled up, but no verbal answer was forecoming. However that response brooked confirmation that the demon had some intelligence. With a frown, he tapped the lid in thought as he pondered how to format his next demand. Lost within his thoughts, his forefinger made a deep gouge in the wood, making an earsplitting screech that sent birds flying.

"…kulus!"

A blast of energy shot up underneath his claws and disrupted his thoughts as the lid shot up into his palm like a little geyser before rebounding back into a flat state.

Sesshomaru took an aborted step back, staring incredulously at what he instinctively knew was an attempted attack on his person.

The top rattled once more, this time with silvery white spiritual wisps escaping into the air. The ghostly tendrils writhed together to form a handsome stag. It shook its head in confusion.

Sesshomaru's eyes widened but before his mind could fully process the existence of the spiritual animal, he noticed its solid state was quickly dissipating into smoke.

"You are in my lands, under my jurisdiction. You shall not take leave before this Sesshomaru gives you permission to pardon yourself," Sesshomaru stated, reaching forward but touching nothing but air. His mokomoko-sama fluttered in the air behind him as furious yōki flailed around his person like an angry aura upon the realization his order was to be denied again. "Explain yourself. This Sesshomaru is not so lenient as to grant forgiveness against those who dare launch an assault on his person."

Eyeing its surroundings and Sesshomaru, the stag gave them both one long, appraising look before snorting in dismissal and disappearing from sight. There was an unidentifiable string of words that followed the apparition's departure, which sounded to the daiyōkai's ears as loud, mocking jeers that reminded him sharply of Inuyasha.

Cold fury washed down his body as he seethed, "You would dare?"

He unsheathed Bakusaiga and, with a faint sneer, slashed at the well, watching in satisfaction as the well shuddered and cracked, the beams sliding downward toward the diagonal cut. Now that the hole was uncovered, he took another step forward to grace the suicidal demon with a last look at his magnificent presence before he ended the life of the imprudent upstart. To his surprise what greeted his vision were a swirl of water and a sweltering miasma of yokai energy. With the obstacle destroyed, his sharpened hearing picked up: "Listen, you're trapped under a barrier. I'm going to get you out!"

There was another spike of that strange yōki that made his inner beast perk up with intrigue and disbelief.

Next thing he knew, the great daiyōkai of the west tumbled into the spiraling darkness, jerked at a frightening speed toward the bottomless nethermost of the great beyond. He tried grasping for anything to stop his descent but nothing, not even his usual modes of transportation and weaponry, could tether him back to land. Sooner than he had expected, he hit an invisible force that stretched under him like a tight coil before shattering under his weight, flinging him into a bright white light. His body collided harshly with a wooden beam and he collapsed onto his hands and knees as splinters of wood and dust smothered his sharp yōkai senses. His Bakusaiga skittered across the wooden floor and hit the wall with a muted clang.

Mind whirling, Sesshomaru staggered onto his feet. His hand automatically reached for the other two swords he knew still remained on him. Adjusting his stance, he moved into a defensive position. There was a vulgar sound of dry coughing mixed in with unfamiliar dialect, and as the dust storm abided, molten gold stared furiously into astonished forest green.