A Ninja Calamity is a Hufflepuff at Hogwarts

Kouchi entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom with his usual calm demeanor, but something about today felt off. The air was charged with an unfamiliar tension, one that made his shinobi instincts prickle.

Professor Quirrell stood at the front of the room, his turban slightly askew as he fumbled with a pile of parchment. His hands trembled as he adjusted the stack, and his eyes darted nervously toward the door. When he spotted Kouchi, a visible shiver ran through him.

Kouchi tilted his head, puzzled. He had noticed this behavior before, but today it seemed worse. Quirrell's normally stammered speech became almost incomprehensible as he tried to address the class.

"W-welcome… to D-defense Against the Dark A-Arts," Quirrell stuttered, his gaze flicking toward Kouchi every few words.

The rest of the students shifted uneasily in their seats. Kouchi could feel their eyes on him, whispering and exchanging glances. He caught a few hushed comments:

"Why's Quirrell so scared of him?"

"Do you think Kouchi did something?"

"Maybe he knows some weird ninja magic."

Kouchi let the words roll off his back, keeping his expression neutral. He had endured worse rumors in the shinobi world. Still, it bothered him that Quirrell's behavior was spreading unease among his classmates.

The lesson began, though it was disjointed and stilted. Quirrell could barely maintain eye contact with the students, much less engage them. His nervousness peaked whenever he glanced in Kouchi's direction, causing his hands to fumble and his voice to falter.

At one point, Quirrell attempted to demonstrate a basic defensive spell. His wand sparked weakly, and the spell fizzled out before it could take form. The class exchanged uneasy looks, and a few students snickered.

"Pathetic," muttered Draco Malfoy, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Kouchi sighed, leaning back in his seat. This wasn't how he had imagined learning about magical defenses. Back home, training was rigorous and disciplined. This… this was chaos.

After class, Kouchi gathered his things and prepared to leave, but a voice stopped him.

"Mr. Uchiha," came the soft yet firm tone of Professor Sprout.

Kouchi turned to see the Head of Hufflepuff House standing by the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression unusually serious.

"Professor?" he asked, inclining his head respectfully.

"Come with me," she said, motioning for him to follow.

The murmurs started immediately.

"Uh-oh, Kouchi's in trouble."

"Bet it's about Quirrell."

"Do you think he's going to get expelled?"

Kouchi ignored the chatter as he followed Professor Sprout out of the classroom and down the corridor. Her usual warmth seemed absent, replaced by a quiet intensity that made Kouchi's stomach twist. He wasn't used to being reprimanded—at least, not in this world.

They arrived at the greenhouses, Professor Sprout's domain. The familiar scent of soil and greenery filled the air, but today it did little to soothe Kouchi's nerves. Sprout gestured for him to sit on a bench, then took a seat across from him.

"Kouchi," she began, her tone softer now but still carrying an edge. "I've been hearing things. Students are afraid of you."

Kouchi blinked, caught off guard. "Afraid of me? Why?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Sprout said, folding her hands in her lap. "You're a talented young man, but your presence seems to be unsettling to others—Professor Quirrell, in particular."

Kouchi frowned. "I've done nothing to Quirrell. If anything, he's the one avoiding me."

Sprout studied him, her gaze searching. "And yet, his behavior is affecting the students. They see his fear, and they wonder why. Some are starting to believe you're the cause."

Kouchi felt a flicker of frustration but kept his expression neutral. "With respect, Professor, I can't control how others perceive me. I've only ever focused on my studies and my responsibilities."

"I understand that," Sprout said, her voice softening further. "But perception matters, especially here. Hogwarts is a community, and fear—whether justified or not—can disrupt that balance."

Kouchi nodded slowly, though a part of him bristled at the implication. Back in the shinobi world, actions spoke louder than words. Here, it seemed appearances mattered more.

"I'm not angry with you, Kouchi," Sprout continued, her tone almost motherly now. "But I am disappointed. I expected you to recognize the importance of fostering trust and understanding among your peers."

Her words hit harder than any reprimand. Disappointment was a sentiment he wasn't used to facing, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"What should I do?" he asked after a long pause.

"Start by being more approachable," Sprout suggested. "Talk to your classmates, show them there's nothing to fear. And as for Professor Quirrell… try to give him some space. He's… not the most confident man, and your presence seems to rattle him."

Kouchi resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I'll do my best, Professor."

"Good," Sprout said with a nod. "That's all I ask."

The conversation lingered in Kouchi's mind as he left the greenhouse. He wasn't sure how he felt about Sprout's advice. It wasn't in his nature to go out of his way to prove himself to others. His training had taught him to remain composed and efficient, not to cater to perceptions.

Still, he couldn't ignore the truth in her words. The fear surrounding him wasn't just affecting him—it was affecting his house, his classmates, and the atmosphere at Hogwarts.

As he walked back to the common room, he noticed a few students giving him wary looks. Some whispered behind their hands, while others quickly turned away when he glanced in their direction.

For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, Kouchi felt truly out of place.

That evening, Kouchi sat by the fireplace in the Hufflepuff common room, staring into the flickering flames. Happy curled up beside him, purring softly, a comforting presence amid the swirling thoughts in his mind.

He replayed the day's events, searching for answers. Why was Quirrell so afraid of him? What could he possibly have done to evoke such a reaction?

The more he thought about it, the more questions arose. Quirrell's fear seemed… unnatural, almost as if it wasn't entirely his own.

Kouchi leaned back in his chair, his sharp mind analyzing the situation like a puzzle. Sprout's advice was practical, but it didn't address the root of the problem. Something was off about Quirrell, and Kouchi was determined to find out what.

For now, though, he would have to play along. He would follow Sprout's guidance, try to ease the tension among his classmates, and avoid drawing further attention to himself.

But in the back of his mind, the mystery of Quirrell lingered like a shadow. And Kouchi knew better than anyone that shadows often hid the most dangerous secrets.

______

Kouchi sat in the Hufflepuff common room, the warmth of the fireplace doing little to soothe his restless thoughts. Happy perched on the armrest beside him, his tail swishing idly as Kouchi stared into the dancing flames.

The events of the day replayed in his mind like a puzzle missing several pieces. Why was Professor Quirrell so afraid of him? The man could barely teach when Kouchi was in the room, and now it was affecting the entire class. Professor Sprout's words echoed in his ears: "Perception matters."

Kouchi sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. He was a shinobi, trained to deal with matters of life and death. Navigating the social intricacies of a magical school felt like a different kind of battlefield altogether.

As he mulled over the situation, the room grew quiet. The other Hufflepuffs had retreated to their dorms, leaving Kouchi alone with his thoughts—or so he thought.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed a faint shimmer in the air, like light bending around something invisible. He tensed immediately, his shinobi instincts kicking in. Happy's ears flicked toward the disturbance, but the cat made no other move.

"Gotcha!"

The voice was loud and mischievous, and before Kouchi could react, a bucket of water tipped over, drenching him from head to toe.

Kouchi blinked, water dripping from his hair as he looked up to see a ghost floating above him, cackling with glee. The translucent figure was none other than Peeves, the castle's resident poltergeist and notorious troublemaker.

"Ha-ha! Look at the soggy ninja!" Peeves howled, clutching his sides as he floated in circles above Kouchi. "Thought you'd have some fancy trick to stop old Peeves, did you?"

Kouchi's eyes narrowed, his Sharingan activating instinctively. The crimson glow of his eyes cut through the dim light of the room, making Peeves pause mid-laugh.

"What's this?" Peeves said, squinting at Kouchi. "Ooh, spooky eyes! Think you can scare old Peeves with a look, do you?"

Kouchi didn't respond. Instead, he drew on his chakra, channeling it into a precise burst. Peeves darted toward him again, clearly intending to escalate his prank, but Kouchi was ready.

With a sharp flick of his wrist, Kouchi released a focused pulse of chakra. The energy rippled outward, freezing Peeves in mid-air.

The poltergeist let out a garbled squawk as his form stiffened unnaturally, his wide grin frozen in place. He hovered there, completely immobilized, his expression a mix of confusion and surprise.

Kouchi stood, water still dripping from his robes, and inspected his handiwork. Peeves wasn't harmed—he wasn't even fully paralyzed. It was more like a chakra-induced stasis, holding him in place for a short time.

The sound of gasps and whispers made Kouchi turn. Several students had been passing by the common room entrance and had stopped to witness the spectacle.

"He just… stopped Peeves?"

"How did he do that?"

"Did you see his eyes? They were glowing red!"

Kouchi deactivated his Sharingan, the glow fading as his eyes returned to their normal onyx hue. He didn't say a word, letting the ghostly stasis disperse naturally. Peeves, now freed, blinked rapidly and floated backward, his usual bravado replaced with something that looked suspiciously like fear.

"You—what did you—" Peeves stammered, his voice higher than usual.

Kouchi crossed his arms, his gaze calm but unyielding. "If you try that again, I'll make sure you stay like that longer next time."

With a final sputter of indignation, Peeves disappeared through the nearest wall, leaving Kouchi alone with the growing crowd of students.

By the next morning, the story had spread like wildfire. Everywhere Kouchi went, students whispered and pointed.

"Did you hear? Kouchi petrified Peeves!"

"They say he has some kind of forbidden magic…"

"Did you see his red eyes? Creepy, isn't it?"

Kouchi tried to ignore the stares and murmurs, but it was clear he had earned yet another nickname. Among the more dramatic rumors circulating, one in particular seemed to stick: The Ghost Petrifier.

In the Great Hall during breakfast, a group of Gryffindors at the next table were openly discussing the incident.

"I heard Peeves was so scared, he hasn't pulled a prank all morning," said Seamus Finnigan.

"Serves him right," Hermione Granger said, though she glanced at Kouchi with a mix of curiosity and wariness.

Even Draco Malfoy couldn't resist chiming in as he passed by the Hufflepuff table. "What's next, Uchiha? Turning people to stone with a look?"

Kouchi didn't respond, though he couldn't help but smirk slightly at Draco's attempt to mock him.

Later that day, Kouchi found himself cornered by a group of younger students in the courtyard. They looked up at him with wide eyes, their awe evident.

"Is it true you stopped Peeves with just your eyes?" one of them asked.

"Do you know any other forbidden magic?" another chimed in.

Kouchi sighed, crouching slightly to meet their gaze. "It wasn't magic," he said simply. "Just a technique I learned back home."

The students looked at each other, clearly skeptical but too intimidated to question further. They scurried off, leaving Kouchi shaking his head.

By the time the day ended, Kouchi was thoroughly exhausted—not from classes or training, but from the constant attention. He retreated to the edge of the Black Lake, seeking solace in the quiet.

Happy trotted alongside him, leaping onto a nearby rock and curling up with a contented purr. Kouchi sat beside him, letting the cool breeze wash over him.

"This place is so different," Kouchi murmured, his voice low. "Back home, fear meant respect. Here, it just makes things… harder."

Happy meowed softly in response, his golden eyes half-closed.

Kouchi's thoughts wandered back to Peeves. The poltergeist's reaction had been amusing, but it also raised questions. If students and ghosts alike were reacting this strongly to him, how would the professors respond? What would happen if someone like Dumbledore took notice?

Kouchi leaned back, gazing up at the stars. He didn't regret his actions—Peeves had deserved it—but he couldn't help feeling that his life at Hogwarts had just become even more complicated.