Favorites. Book 1: What kind of a magician am I now?!

August 8, 1988 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, England I've been watching my new family for a week. Of course, I not only observed, but also studied this world, adopted the habits and etiquette of the aborigines, what to say and do in various situations. In this sense, the family turned out to be well-mannered. The local calendar amazed me! Not only did it kill me last time that the years were counted from the birth of some local god, but there are also not the same number of days in the months! And in the month of the Rat, which is "February" here, there are only twenty-nine of them! The last time I was in England, in nineteen ninety-six, Harry said that he should be sixteen, which means, by simple calculations, I, in the local nineteen eighty-eight, should be eight years old. The day I got to Harry was the month of the Horse, which is August. It's a good thing that there are also twelve months here, like ours. But the moon is very tiny, and it was completely independent of the days in the month. For example, on the night of the first to the second of August, the full moon has just begun to wane. How do people generally navigate here? Is it really only on pieces of paper with numbers and calendars with kittens? I learned written English in a week. It turned out to be such a simple language! I already knew some of the letters, but then there are almost no hieroglyphs or signs there — you can hear and write, only a couple of sounds are a combination of two or three letters. Beauty! One bad thing is that the records are very long. He taught me the local writing and reading of Dudley Kun. He was so surprised by my request that he agreed. I actually noticed one oddity. Individually, the Dursleys are pretty good. If you follow certain rules, you can negotiate with them. Aunt Petunia gave me extra food if I asked, and allowed me to practice in the garden after I had loosened the flower beds and pulled out the weeds. The D-rank missions here are quite simple, and I handled them easily, even in such a small body. I said once that I would shrink my T-shirts and sew them myself, so Aunt Petunia took out a thing she called a "sewing machine" and sewed my clothes with it to make them fit. Uncle Vernon let me help him. I enjoyed drilling holes when he tried out his tools, which he turns out to produce. The sound of the drilling drill sounded like the chidori and rasen-shuriken techniques at the same time, and I was struck by nostalgia. My cousin Dudley turned out to be a good tutor, and in at least six days I began to read quite well, not only in syllables, but also to write, even if not as fast as cursive in my native language. The Dursleys tolerated me and were quite in control of themselves individually. But that's when they got together… It feels like something was wrong with this family. As soon as the four of us were in the same room, they were almost sick with irrational hatred for me. They said nasty things. They swore. They could have punished me for something. It was very strange. It's so strange that I suspected magic or some kind of interference, drugs or mentalism. However, my friend Ino told me something about her clan and some of their techniques. And Harry mentioned that there is something similar in the wizarding world. Over the past week, through meditation, I have practically restored those three days from nineteen ninety-six and what Harry told that writer. The key points and your thoughts about them are for sure. It was difficult for Harry to look at his family from the outside, he hated them in return, but there was clearly something wrong. And my feeling of "wrong" screamed no worse than my uncle's drills. Vernon-san left for work, and Dudley went out with his friends. I decided to talk to Aunt Petunia. Actually, I liked the woman. She may be insecure with her "cockroaches", but you won't find such people among Shinobi. Jiraiya taught me not only fuinjutsu and ninjutsu, but also the keys to human souls. Especially for women. It turned out that my aunt should know that Harry, that is - I am a wizard. Since her sister is a sorceress. If you compare it with my world, then there are also Shinobi aristocrats from Great clans, that is, wizarding aristocrats, such as Harry's father and his godfather Sirius, as far as I understand. There are hereditary Shinobi, that is, whose parents were part of the military caste, here they are simple, ordinary wizards. There were Shinobi, the children of townspeople or peasants, who had a sufficiently developed chakrosystem to enter the warrior class, but more often such a first generation could at best become genins. In the magical world, they are called "Muggleborns." Because non-wizards are called "Muggles." It seems that the synonym for "wizard" will also be "magician", probably about the same as "shinobi" and "ninja" — some kind of different interpretation*. ("Shinobi no Mono" is a spy, spy, infiltrator and assassin in medieval Japan. "shinobu" — to hide, to hide; to endure, to endure + ?? "mono" is a suffix of people and professions. When "shinobi-no-mono" is shortened to the first and last hieroglyphs [??] there is a reading of "ninja".) There will be similar divisions in any world where people have something different from the majority. My mother is from the Great Uzumaki Clan, and my father is rumored to be from the townspeople. However, no one dared to assert, since he was an orphan and was able to become Hokage, that is, the strongest and most respected warrior of our hidden village. I am a half—breed Uzumaki. Harry's situation is similar, only his father is an aristocratic magician, and his mother is a "Muggle—born".  When a Shinobi appears in a peasant family, it is like a Rikudo-sennin blessing for such a family. By sending their son or daughter to serve in a gakurezato or garrison, such a family will receive some privileges, tax exemption for a while and, most importantly, protection. Here, the family in which the magician appears does not seem to receive anything. Unless he finds out that magic exists. Here it is perceived as incredible miracles. But something tells me that there will be a lot of work and training behind such a "miracle." Harry seemed to have been studying for five years, but he couldn't even clean his clothes with his magic. Harry said his aunt thought he and his parents were "crazy." I haven't had any such conversations yet. I know from Ino's stories that mental intervention works in a peculiar way, pulling out and reinforcing existing feelings. As if you were annoyed, then you can be "inflamed" to hatred, and if there were no bad feelings and emotions towards any person or phenomenon, then no matter how hard you try, you will not be able to cause negativity. So calmness and cold calculation prevail. On the other hand, most of the feelings that Shinobi show are fake. If you get really angry in battle, it can cause you serious problems in the form of losing control of the situation, and this can be fatal. However, in my case, when I was small and could be intemperate, Kuby was happy to "connect" to me. "Fox Obsession" is intoxicating. But then the withdrawal is such that you would not wish the enemy. And after meeting the "Dark Naruto", I revised a lot in my life. In general, zen is our everything. The psychotropic drugs that I used also have properties similar to mental effects. Maybe even stronger, but it's really easier to start with something that already exists. In order for a person to start trusting you completely, you need to win them over first. Sometimes I could do it without the stimulants. Jiraiya said that I have the charisma and talent to "talk people down" that I inherited from my father. So, returning to Petunia-san, most likely, she was a little jealous of her sister, who found herself in a magical world of wonders and sweet gingerbread. But then… Then Harry's parents were killed, and he himself, a "half—blood aristocrat boy", was sent to a "peasant" family who, at best, had only heard of magic out of the corner of their ears. Despite the fact that Harry was adored by everyone in absentia and almost idolized as Rikudo-sennin. I grew up in general dislike, to put it mildly. And they didn't want to teach me anything at the Academy. But I knew almost from the cradle that I was a Shinobi, I grew up in a village full of Shinobi, dreamed of becoming a Shinobi and did everything possible and impossible to develop my body and learn how to use the chakra. I spied on other people's workouts, repeated the exercises. If only I had a teacher sooner and he wasn't such a depressing bastard like Kakashi-sensei.… But anyway, by the age of twelve, I knew several techniques, knew how to fight, and developed a system of behavior in which I was less bullied by others. And Harry, at the age of eleven, was hit on his scarred forehead with a dust bag: "You, brother, are a wizard and all, get ready for school Hogv-somehow." And the kid doesn't even know which side of the magic wand to hold. And behind all this is Director Higekane*, who has Sarutobi Hiruzen's benevolent smile on his face. ("Higekane" - loosely translated from Japanese, can be translated "beard with bells". Naruto couldn't remember long and complex "tooth-crushing" English surnames and came up with nicknames.) When Harry told his story, I was amazed at the connivance of their superiors. But it was worth "digging deeper", finding yourself in the shoes of an eight-year-old wizard who was abandoned in a Muggle family, as the story began to sparkle with new colors. I carefully found out that the Dursleys don't give me any allowance or lifting fees, so it's not surprising that I'm wearing rags, which are pretty decent in principle, I had worse ones. My appetite is no less than Dudley's, or vice versa — I eat so much and am always hungry because of my chakra magic, and a simple kid like that also turns on Harry, that is, me, looking. Are parents going to give their own blood less than a starved-looking boy eats? That's why "Dadlipusicek" is such a cheeky "pussy". Vernon always grumbles at dinner that I overeat them. Well, yes, my portion is like my uncle's, a healthy man, and after eating, I almost lick the pans — I'm hungry. Not to say that the "orphan" feeds on air, but it looks like it looks like it has only green eyes under glasses. I feel sorry for myself, yeah. I can't look in the mirror without crying. But then there's the big "but" again — Harry and I went to the bank, and he has his own account and stuff. This means that his family had money and there must be someone who is obliged to take care of such a "golden boy" - the hero of the magical world.  Sasuke was left without parents and a clan at the age of eight, but he seemed to have some kind of guardian, the head of the clan's accounts, he gave money for maintenance and expenses. Sasuke was assigned to an apartment away from the Uchiha quarter, so as not to disturb his soul, and he ate… Well, in general, it's weird too. The type of Hero they keep in a "black body" so that the magical world into which he gets after eleven years of shit seems like a fairy tale, where he is the main character who is obliged to kill the Universal Evil. Oh, shit! Bi-san and I weren't even allowed into the war that was started because of our possession. And here's a kid who's been fighting in earnest for a year with an adult, an experienced wizard who no one could take down. Uh-huh. In general, it's time to find out the answers to some questions and assumptions, and I decided to start with Aunt Petunia, as the most accessible source of information for me at the moment.