AN: First Harry Potter and Sailor Moon x-over. Rewritten slightly, just to fix the little things, like grammer. Though, I'm sure I didn't get them all. Little changes to make the story flow by smoother.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon or Harry Potter, so the only thing you can get out of me is the dust bunnies under my bed. Why you would want them is beyond me.



"And you can stay there, boy! Until you learn your lesson!"

Harry heard the sound of the cupboard being locked before the heavy footsteps of his uncle moved away. He huddled into himself, shivering in the dark. He kept in a whimper because he was pretty sure that Dudley was gleefully listening in to see if Harry cries. It would be just like his cousin to try and listen in, so that he could torment Harry later about being a baby.

"Come on, cry," Dudley muttered through the door.

Harry, only six-years-old, buried his face into his knees and he pretended to be somewhere else. Somewhere that wasn't pitch black and small. When Harry doesn't make a sound, Dudley moved on with an annoyed huff. The house fell silent with only the sound of the telly turning on and Uncle Vernon's voice complaining about his day. The cupboard creaked and rattled as Dudley stomped his way upstairs.

In the dark, Harry wrapped himself into a small ball.

He had never meant to break the dish. It had slipped when he was washing it. The moment the plate shattered, Aunt Petunia had screeched. Her voice raised in pitch with every passing second and Uncle Vernon's face had turned a splotchy red. Harry had been hauled by the back of his shirt to the cupboard as Dudley happily looked on.

By now, Harry was use to the punishment. All he has to do was sit quietly until someone remembers, most likely Aunt Petunia, that chores need to be done. He would be out soon. Until then, Harry tried to ignore how cold he was and how the spider webs made his skin itch.

Harry waited.

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, he was standing in a pavilion that overlooked the ocean. There was a beautiful woman there, sitting at a marble table.

She seemed surprise to see him.

"Hello," she said warmly. "Who are you?"

"Harry Potter," he said dutifully. He stared in awe at her. The air around her seem to glow. "Who are you?"

Her blue eyes twinkled.

Seven Years Later

There's a place Harry likes to visit in his dreams. More importantly, there's a person in it that fills Harry with a happy kind of feeling that reminds him of how he felt the first time he saw a chocolate frog come to life or the feeling he gets when he managed to grab the golden snitch in a game. Sitting across from him, she reached out a pale hand to gently place a black stone next to a white one on the go board. There was a triumphant smile when she reached over and puck the white stone up.

"I resign," Harry rubbed the back of his head. The game ended when he declared his loss. Slowly, he began gathering his pieces. She gathered her own stones and they placed their parts back into the small wooden containers and set the board aside.

"Thank you for the game," bright blue eyes met his emerald ones.

"I'm not a very good player," Harry admitted. "It's not much of a challenge playing me."

"You're improving," she offered. She reached across the table to ruffled his hair fondly. Settling back in her seat, she placed her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together. She rested her chin on her hands and stared at him with bright eyes. She asked about his day and Harry eagerly told her about Hagrid and the blast-ended skrewt (she shuddered) and all about how unfair Snape was and what a prat Malfoy had been. He talked about Ron and Hermione ("I swear they fight like a married couple," Harry said) and he spoke a little about the twins and their latest prank. Harry pretty sure that he's been rattling on and on, but she patiently listened to every word he said. It was easy to confide in her.

"I got an album full of my parents' pictures today," Harry said lowly. "Hagrid gave it to me as a present."

"Really? How nice!" she studied his somber look. "Don't you think it's nice?"

"Yes. It's nice. I mean, I don't even remember them, so it's nice to have pictures of them," Harry struggled to find the words.

"It just made you realize what you're missing out on," she nodded her head in understanding. She opened her arms and Harry tumbled into them. Inside her familiar embrace, he grieved for the parents he didn't even know. Harry feels his tears seep onto her dress. Her white gown had soaked up a lot of his tears for the last few years. Harry feels almost embarrassed the older he gets when he cries, but she understood him in a way that no one else could. Her arms were full of warmth and compassion as she held him. Harry thinks that this is what it must feel like having a mother or a big sister.

She holds him until he woke up to the sound of the other guys in the dorm room getting ready for breakfast.

Harry groggily gets up.

His curtains are thrown aside and Ron barges in.

"Come on mate!" Ron slapped him on the back. "Rise and Shine!"

Between students mysteriously getting petrified and him being able to talk to snakes apparently, Harry has had a rough time of it for the next few weeks. He hasn't been able to sleep properly. The entire school seemed to whisper every time he walked passed and Harry doesn't think he will ever get use to the stares. He had spent his entire life being the invisible one thanks to his aunt, uncle, and cousin. Harry isn't use to the attention or to the fact that everyone he meets automatically looks at his forehead instead of looking into his eyes. Turning around the corner, he sees some first-years Hufflerpuffs look at him in awe and fear before they took off in the opposite direction.

Harry's scar twinged.

When he lands in the medic wing ("Seriously Mr. Potter, I'm going to have a designated bed for you for the amount of time you spent in here!" Madam Pomfrey shook her head.) Harry is finally able to peacefully dream.

She was waiting when he arrived. There was something about seeing her that made everything seem serene and calm. The adrenaline from fighting the basilisk finally faded.

While they played Go, Harry told her everything.

"I'm happy everything worked out," she remarked afterward. She stared across the table. There was a look of pride in her eyes as she beamed at him. "You showed remarkable courage you know. Not too many people would willingly go into that chamber to fight against that snake."

"Ginny was down there, I had to save her," Harry said.

"It was still brave. I'm sure Ginny thinks so," she said.

Thinking of Ginny lead to thinking about Ron and Harry flinched.

Her eyes studied him. "You told Ron about our meetings," she guessed.

Harry nodded.

"He thinks it's strange that I've been meeting you in my dreams," he said slowly.

"He thinks that you've conjured me up. Like a fantasy," she mused.

"But I know you're real!" Harry burst out. He leapt from his seat and stared at her in desperation. "You're real, aren't you? You're not some figure of my imagination! I know you're not!"

His eyes locked onto hers and he saw that she was genuinely startled. That brought him a small measure of comfort.

"Sit down, Harry," she said. "Of course I'm real. I've been with you for how long?"

"Since I was little…" Harry reluctantly took his seat again. "You were the only person I could talk to."

"And I was always there for you," she said. "For every day your aunt, your uncle, or your cousin tormented you, I was there every night to comfort you. I've been with you for the last few years, watching you as you grow." She seem to hesitate before she continued on. "That's how I know that you're finally ready."

"Ready for what?" Harry got a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Harry…pretty soon, I don't think we'll able to meet anymore. I was there for you because you needed me, but you're all grown up now. You have friends, ones that you could confide in. People who you could speak to at any time of the hour, unlike me, who could only speak to you when you're sleeping." She reached out a comforting hand. "I'm not needed, Harry, and very soon we're going to part."

"You're lying," Harry accused as he drew back from her touch. He missed the hurt in her eyes. "You can't leave! I won't let you!"

"Harry!" She gasped. The ground beneath them vanished as the gentle ocean scenery wavered. "Harry!"

She gave one last cry before she too vanished, leaving Harry's heart pounding in his chest as he woke up. Curling into a ball, Harry shivered in the cold draft of the medic bay.

"You seem a little depressed, Harry," Hermione mentioned when she was visiting the next day. She came alone and in her hands were the assignments that he had missed. His bushy-hair friend sat at his bedside and she stared at him with a frown.

"Do you know any spells about dreams?" Harry looked at the window to the blue skies as he asked.

"Is is about you-know-who?" Hermione looked alarmed. She glanced around to make sure that Madame Pomfrey or any wondering patients wasn't listening."Is he appearing in your dreams?"

"No, don't worry," Harry gave her a weak smile. "It's something personal."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione offered. "I'll listen."

Harry hesitated. "It's nothing," he finally said.

Hermione looked unsure, "Alright, but if you need me I'll be there."

After supper, she brings him a book about dreams and spells that she had borrow from the library.

While she and Ron argued, Harry flipped through the pages of the book.

That night, Harry dreamt the same ocean scenery as the night before. He conjured the pavilion that overlooked the ocean and the stone table as well as the go board and the pieces and he waited. He didn't wait long before she finally appeared, dressed in her usual white flowing gown, with a warm smile on her face. This time, though, he noticed that her smile was a bit strain as she sat across from him.

"Ready to play?" she asked.

Harry just silently moved his pieces into place. The sound of the go stones was the only noise beside the gentle waves of the ocean.

After an hour, Harry lowered his head. "I resign."

"Thank you for the game," she placed her stones away. "You get better and better."

"Thank you," he replied tonelessly. He messily swiped his stones into the container.

"You're upset with me," she said. "I understand."

Harry turned his eyes and watched as the sun began to dawn. "No, you don't."

She doesn't understand what it felt like to be thrown away. Discarded. Abandoned. Harry is really tired of people leaving him.

"Oh, Harry. I'm going to miss your stubbornness when we meet for the last time," she shook her head.

"There won't be a last time," Harry said.

"Harry…" she reached out and touched his cheek. "I'm afraid there is going to be a last time. There's nothing you can do to stop it."

Harry turned his head and stared into her eyes. He watched as her withdrew her hand with a jerk.

"Harry, what are you doing?" She stared in disbelief as a pair of metal chains materialized onto her slender wrist, binding her.

"It's called a dream chain." It was a farfetched idea, but Harry was desperate.

"You used a spell on me?" she looked hurt. "Harry, you can't do this! I can't stay in your dreams forever. I have friends who are waiting for me on the other side!"

"You'll be happier with me, here," Harry said. He felt guilty when he saw the tears of frustration lurking in her eyes.

"You still act like you're child," she said. "Maybe you're not as grown up as I thought."

Harry was hurt.

"You'll change your mind," he said as the scenery began to haze. He woke up and got ready for another day.

Harry visited her every night.

She tried talking to him, tried to reason with him, and she tried ordering him. Eventually, she gave up. She refused to speak with him and Harry spends a lot of time staring at her turned back.

Harry just silently sat with her.

Sometimes, he hears her quietly crying.

The spell worked in keeping her where he could always find her. She couldn't leave his dream world. She would be with him forever for as long as he wanted.

So why wasn't he happy?

He sat across the table, watching as her hand clutched at the embroidery top of her dress. As nights passed, Harry becomes aware that she was sick. Her skin pale very considerably to the point where it was almost pure white and her breath was shallow.

"I'm dying, Harry."

It was a simple statement and it cut through his heart.

"My physical body is wasting away because I can't get my spirit back to where it belongs," she pleaded with him with her eyes. "If I don't return soon, my body is going to die. Please, let me go."

Harry turned away. "I can't."

He turned and fled back into the real world.

When, in Defense against the Dark Arts, his boggart turned into her dead corpse, Harry felt sick to his stomach.

He returned to his dream world the next night and he wordlessly released her from the spell. He watched as she vanished, not saying good-bye.

One year after he released her, after seeing Sirius off to hopefully a safe place from the Auror that was hunting him, Harry finally understood. She tried to leave him because he had grown too dependent on her, on that dream world. If the right reasons came along, Harry might one day decided to permanently stay there where Voldermort and all the bad things couldn't touch him. It was his crutch. Harry could run away from everything as long as it existed and she knew that. She didn't want him to run away from reality, no matter how bad it got.

Maybe Snape was right. Maybe he was too dimwitted to be taught, but Harry understood now and as Dumbledore said, a lesson learned later is better than a lesson never learned at all.

She and the dream world had become his Mirror of Erised.

He sat there, one year older and wiser, at the stone table that over looked the ocean, watching as the sun dawn. The go board was in front of him and the stones were ready, waiting. She hadn't appeared once; not since he almost cost her, her life. He didn't expect her to show up, so it surprised him when she appeared, looking the same. She hadn't age much, though he could see faints wrinkles around her eyes. He watched as she sat in front of him, her hand reaching out to tousled his hair.

"This is my last visit," she gently told him. "I came to say a proper good-bye."

"I'm sorry for what happened," Harry said softly.

"What's done is done," she waved a dismissal hand. "You've grown up a lot this year, Harry. I'm very proud of you." She gently lifted his chin up so that he met her eyes. "Half of life is regret. That's something we can't change, but we can learn from them." She picked up a black stone and placed it on the board.

The game went on for two hours before a head was lowered in defeat.

"I resign," she sighed. "Damn. When did you get so good?"

"I had a good teacher," Harry couldn't help, but smile.

"Good-bye, Harry Potter," she stood up. She held out a slender hand. Hesitantly, he took her hand and watched as she gave him one last smile before she vanished out of his life forever. He sat there for a long while just glazing out at the ocean. For one startled moment, he thought he saw his parents waving in the distant before he woke up to the sunlight slanting in his face and a rough hand shaking his shoulder.

"Get up, mate! We're late for potions!"