New Harry Potter Fic
A transmigrator reborn as Damien McGonagall—the nephew of Minerva McGonagall.
Growing up beside the Marauders, Lily and Snape.
Watch as Damien becomes the de-facto leader of the group and has adventures with his friends.
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"Yes, Senpai," came Itachi's calm voice from behind him.
After a brief pause, he added softly,
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Jutsu."
He formed the hand seals without hesitation. Drawing in a deep breath, he exhaled—
A massive sphere of flame roared from his mouth and crashed down upon Danzo Shimura's corpse.
The courtyard was swallowed in fire.
Flames coiled upward, devouring flesh, wood, and blood alike, until nothing remained but scorched stone and a blackened scar at the courtyard's center.
No grave.
No monument.
Only ash.
The Anbu dispersed immediately, combing through the Shimura estate inch by inch. Danzo's crimes would not implicate the entire Shimura clan—but any hidden records, experimental materials, or Root remnants had to be seized.
Itachi stepped forward and presented the severed arm, still wrapped in dark cloth.
"You saw that technique, didn't you, Itachi?" Roshi asked.
"Yes," Itachi replied evenly. "That was Izanagi."
Roshi's gaze lingered on the arm.
"What do you think is hidden here?"
"You instructed me to sever his right arm at the first opportunity," Itachi answered calmly. "That suggests something valuable was concealed within it."
A faint pause.
"Most likely… Sharingan whose whereabouts were previously unknown."
"Unwrap it."
"Yes."
Itachi peeled away the outer garment first, revealing a metallic restraint device encasing the limb. After carefully removing it, he began unwrapping the bandages layer by layer.
Roshi watched closely.
The exposed skin was not the pale gray-white of a body overtaken by Hashirama's cells. It retained a normal human tone.
When the final bandage fell away, three crimson eyes opened silently along the arm—from shoulder to forearm.
Three fully formed, Three-Tomoe Sharingan embedded into living flesh.
Because the number was limited, a single suppression brace had been enough to stabilize them.
For now.
"How do you intend to deal with them, Senpai?" Itachi asked.
A typical Uchiha would demand the return of any lost Sharingan to the clan.
But Itachi was no typical Uchiha.
"I plan to keep them," Roshi said frankly.
Itachi did not question him. He simply began rewrapping the arm with meticulous precision.
"You're not going to ask why?" Roshi said.
"With your strength," Itachi replied evenly, "there is no need to covet the Sharingan's power. If you choose to keep them, it must serve another purpose."
Roshi gave a faint, almost amused exhale.
"I don't even know if they'll ever be necessary. But having them might offer an additional path someday."
"That's all."
The deeper his research went, the clearer one truth became:
The Rinnegan was not born simply from combining Senju vitality and Uchiha eyes.
It required something deeper.
The chakra of Asura.
The chakra of Indra.
As for the interaction between ordinary Three-Tomoe Sharingan and Hashirama cells—its long-term effects remained uncertain. He had no intention of replacing his own eyes.
But as experimental reserves?
There was no harm in keeping options.
He did not conceal this from Itachi.
Nor would he conceal it from Tsunade.
There was no need.
He had not taken these eyes from living Uchiha.
They were remnants of Danzo's obsession.
Stolen once.
Seized again.
Roshi glanced once more at the neatly wrapped arm.
"Store it properly," he said.
Itachi nodded.
The courtyard fell silent again.
Only the faint scent of smoke lingered in the air.
— The faint scent of smoke lingered in the air, a reminder of the destruction that had occurred. tab
Yakushi Nono's career as a ninja finally came to an end.
After she gave a complete account of every mission she had carried out over the years—and after each detail was verified by the Intelligence Division—her records were amended and her retirement formally reinstated.
It was not punishment.
It was recognition.
An acknowledgment that, despite being used as a pawn, she had fulfilled her duties faithfully.
She returned to the orphanage she once called home.
The two directors hurried out to meet her. Their eyes were red, their fingers trembling as they clasped her hands. Their lips moved as if to speak—but emotion stole their voices before any words could form.
Children poured into the courtyard the moment she stepped inside.
They crowded around her, tugging at her sleeves, calling her name, laughing and crying all at once. The orphanage, quiet for so long, became noisy again.
Alive again.
After the initial chaos settled, Yakushi Nono finally found a small moment of stillness beneath the veranda.
Kabuto did not enter through the front gate.
He climbed over the courtyard wall instead, landing silently in a shadowed corner.
He wanted to see them.
To see the children he had once grown up with.
But would they recognize him?
Or would they look at him the way Nono had—seeing only a stranger shaped by someone else's lies?
"Kabuto."
A gentle voice called from behind him.
He turned sharply.
Nono stood beneath the veranda, lamplight outlining her figure in a soft glow.
Her eyes were no longer confused.
No longer distant.
They held the same warmth he remembered from their first meeting—years ago, when she had reached out her hand and given him a name.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
"For the things I said to you."
"As a mother… I failed to recognize my own child."
Kabuto lowered his head.
His vision blurred instantly. Heat welled up in his eyes before he could stop it.
He had endured interrogation. War. Death.
But this—
This broke him.
Nono stepped closer and gently ran her fingers through his hair.
"Urushi became a ninja too," she said. "I met him in the Village."
"He asked me whether Kabuto had come home."
"Just now… the others asked the same."
Kabuto's shoulders began to tremble. A choked sound escaped him despite his efforts to hold it back.
He wiped his eyes roughly with the back of his hand—but the tears would not stop. The more he wiped, the more they came. His breathing grew uneven; even his nose ran, leaving him utterly undignified.
And utterly human.
"Tomorrow," Nono said with a smile, "we'll go see Urushi together. And everyone else."
"They're waiting for you, Kabuto."
"Okay… okay…" he managed between broken breaths, nodding again and again.
For the first time in years, Yakushi Kabuto allowed himself to cry like a child.
"Danzo Shimura has been confirmed dead. The Shimura residence has been fully cleared."
"And this… was recovered."
In the Hokage's Office, Roshi placed three specially prepared transparent test tubes onto the desk before Tsunade.
Inside each floated a crimson Sharingan, suspended in preservation fluid, their tomoe motionless yet faintly ominous.
He had not brought the arm itself.
There were limits to what even a Hokage's office should be forced to look at.
Tsunade's brows rose slightly.
"Danzo's handiwork?"
"Mm."
She clicked her tongue.
"You haven't even fully explored the power left behind by my grandfather, and you're already eyeing the Sharingan."
"You really are greedy."
A pause.
"Don't let the Uchiha see these."
"Even if Danzo was the one who implanted them, the optics are terrible."
Roshi said nothing.
Tsunade leaned back in her chair, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Is there anything else?"
Then her expression darkened.
"Hey. Hey."
"I'm the Hokage."
"You handle your Sharingan experiments yourself."
"Now that Danzo is gone, cleaning up what's left of Root is a nightmare. I'm drowning in paperwork."
She jabbed a finger at him.
"I don't have time to babysit your research."
Roshi inclined his head slightly.
"As expected of the Fifth Hokage. Efficient and reliable."
Tsunade narrowed her eyes.
"Don't flatter me."
But the corner of her mouth twitched upward anyway.
With Danzo's death, the cursed seals branded onto Root operatives quietly vanished.
One by one, hidden figures began surfacing.
And with them came secrets.
More intelligence on Root trickled in daily. Names, locations, sealed facilities. Operatives who had remained dormant even after Root was formally handed to Kakashi… men and women who had continued following Danzo's private orders in the shadows.
Kyuu was one of them—captured and brought back this time.
How to handle these Konoha ninja had now become Tsunade's newest headache.
They were not foreign enemies.
But neither were they clean.
Roshi spoke calmly.
"They shouldn't all be treated as criminals."
"Handle them case by case. Locate each one. Those willing to cooperate with investigation should be granted leniency."
"Danzo held power for decades. Many of those under him were like Yakushi Nono—people with no real choice."
"Those who did not resist the Village openly can be assessed individually."
"A difference in ideology isn't treason. Even among ninja, disagreement is natural."
"As long as they are willing to follow the Village's directives moving forward… give them a path."
Tsunade folded her arms and exhaled through her nose.
"…Fine. We'll proceed like that for now."
"Kakashi can handle the sorting."
"When everything's clarified, Root will be completely dismantled."
The only reason Root had survived this long was Danzo's cursed seal. With it gone, Root operatives were no different from ordinary Anbu.
And Kakashi…
Once this storm passed, it would be natural for him to assume full command of Anbu.
With the heaviest matters arranged—the war concluded, Danzo dead, Root dissolving—Tsunade felt something rare.
Relief.
Then she noticed Roshi still standing there.
Her expression immediately darkened.
"I know, I know!"
"You're clearly interested in those eyes yourself, but you keep circling back to me about it. It's endless!"
She snatched the three test tubes off the desk in irritation, holding them up.
"This isn't something that gets solved by staying up a few extra nights!"
"And listen—your vacation days for this year? Gone. All deducted!"
Roshi calculated silently.
There were only two months left in the year.
Acceptable.
In the following days, Roshi divided his time between Tsunade's laboratory—assisting in controlled Sharingan research—and the Hokage Office, where he dealt with mountainous stacks of documents.
War reports. Reconstruction budgets. Diplomatic drafts.
Peace was more exhausting than battle.
A few days later, Shizune submitted a meeting request.
The applicant was not seeking the Hokage.
He had requested Roshi.
Permission was granted.
When Yakushi Kabuto entered the Hokage Office, he paused briefly.
Only Roshi was present, seated at a side desk buried beneath half a mountain of paperwork. The Hokage's chair at the center remained empty; a half-drunk cup of tea still released faint steam.
Kabuto noticed.
He did not comment.
He had seen what Roshi could do. He understood where influence truly lay.
He approached the desk and bowed.
"Lord Roshi."
"Mm." Roshi set down his pen. "What is it?"
Kabuto lifted his head, his voice steady.
"I wish to withdraw my retirement application."
"I intend to continue serving as a Konoha ninja."
Roshi regarded him quietly.
"At your age, retirement is considered compensation for forced conscription."
"You don't plan to return to the orphanage?"
Kabuto answered without hesitation.
"Without sufficient power to protect it… returning changes nothing."
"You and the Fifth Hokage are fair. But the orphanage's daily survival and long-term growth require consistent funding."
Roshi replied evenly.
"Submit the standard application. With Yakushi Nono's accumulated merits, maintaining operational aid won't be an issue."
Kabuto's gaze sharpened.
"If the goal is merely survival—yes."
"But I do not want the orphanage to survive."
"I want it to grow."
"To break free from relying on sympathy and emergency funds."
"It needs stable, sustainable resources."
He bowed again—lower than before.
But his voice only grew firmer.
"I want to become the foundation that supports it."
"The pillar that ensures its future."
His glasses caught a faint glint of light as he raised his head.
"Please allow me to continue serving you."
"And the Village."
There was no desperation in his tone now.
Only resolve.
Kabuto was no longer a child seeking belonging.
He was a ninja choosing his path.
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New Harry Potter Fic
A transmigrator reborn as Damien McGonagall—the nephew of Minerva McGonagall.
Growing up beside the Marauders, Lily and Snape.
Watch as Damien becomes the de-facto leader of the group and has adventures with his friends.
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AN: Check out my P@treon For +100 extra chapters.
Thank You For your Support!!
[email protected]/noviceauthor777
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