Hello :3 Just thought I'd put this out there to see what you think. I have a good chunk of it written out, but I'm not sure if its any good. XD Please let me know what you think, and whether or not I should post more. With that said, thank you and enjoy the ride. :D
Harry had a number of qualms about Professor McGonagall's choice for the new Herbology professor. After Professor Sprout had retired, his very credible sources told him his good friend Neville would be taking the position. He was, after all, a natural genius when it came to plants, and having seen what he could do during their school years confirmed that he was more than qualified.
What actually surprised him most was that Neville had neglected to inform him. And so, during a quick visit to the Defense Against the Dark Arts class for a lecture, he stopped by the Herbology room to say hi, only to find himself face to face with a young foreigner.
"I'm sorry," the young man apologized quickly. It seemed that only moments ago they were about to crash into each other, but miraculously the catastrophe was avoided. "Can I help you with anything, Mr. Potter?" he asked with a warm smile. Harry gave a nervous laugh. Though the scar had faded to nothing more than a dark line, everyone in the wizarding world still recognized him at first sight.
"Oh, I was just looking for the Herbology professor, is he here?"
"That would be me," the young man replied, his elegantly slanted green eyes betraying nothing. No doubt he knew that Harry was expecting someone else. "I am Professor Shuichi Minamino, it is a pleasure to meet you." He shifted the books in his arms to extend a hand. Stunned for a moment, Harry shook his hand with his mouth slightly open.
"I'm sorry, but it seems I've got the wrong office," he hurriedly said with an awkward smile. Minamino pushed back a strand of red hair so bright it could give the Weasley's a run for their money. "If you'll excuse me."
"Not a problem, I hope you find who you're looking for." Harry abruptly turned to walk away, feeling very foolish and awkward. Who was this foreign man, and what happened to Neville? The questions burned in his mind as he tried to understand everything. It wasn't until he had walked through several corridors did he notice the soft echo of another's footsteps behind him. Glancing behind him, he caught a flash of red, knowing it to be the professor. Feeling a little guilty about their first encounter, he decided to start over and turned to face him.
"Look, I'm sorry about earlier," he apologized, waiting as Minamino caught up to him in a few long strides. The red head gave him a knowing smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, professor. I'll admit, I was expecting someone else."
"I don't suppose you are headed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, are you?" Minamino asked, walking beside Harry. Upon closer inspection, Harry realized how young the man was, yet his eyes were inexplicably ancient. It reminded him of Dumbledore's eyes, if only for a moment.
"Yes, I've been invited to give a lecture today for the sixth years," Harry responded back. "Um, might I ask, you're not from around here are you?" Minamino chuckled.
"No, I am certainly not," he replied. "Is my accent that horrible?"
"No! Actually you don't have much of an accent at all. It's just, there aren't many Asians in Hogwarts that I've seen."
"Indeed. I would not go so far as to say I am unwelcomed..." Minamino's voice trailed off as he paused, "...rather, I find it difficult to find people who will act naturally around me. At least the students don't mind."
"I'm sure you have a lot of fans, professor," Harry said reassuringly. "You're still young and very good-looking, unlike myself."
"Thank you, I shall take it to heart. It's not everyday that one's looks get complimented by the great Harry Potter himself." At this, the Auror scoffed.
"I'm nothing special anymore." Minamino smiled again, and Harry was starting to wonder if this smile was actually genuine. But before he could say anymore, they had reached the door leading into the DADA classroom. Upon seeing its familiar shape, with all its scuffs and cracks and dents, Harry couldn't help feeling nostalgic. It had been so long ago, and at his age his memories weren't what they used to be. At the time though, he thought he would remember them forever.
"It has been a pleasure chatting with you," Minamino said. Harry suddenly snapped to attention, having lost himself in nostalgia.
"Ah, right, a pleasure," he responded back. He noticed that the professor hadn't left. "Um, were you needing something professor?"
"Yes, but please, you first." Harry didn't let his skepticism show as he swung the door wide open. Once inside, he saw Professor Periwinkle at the front of the class standing next to a short woman with pink hair. Murmurs began to arise as the students recognized his face. Yet, it seemed the attention was short lived as it quickly moved to Professor Minamino, who followed him inside.
"Ah! Harry Potter, welcome!" Periwinkle exclaimed with delight. He was a portly man who wore a suit full of gaudy colored patches. His hair was a wild bushel of white that he didn't bother taming, and his eyes were small and close together, making his face look like a punctured vegetable. "Students, put your books away, you shan't be needing those. We'll continue our demon lecture at the start of our next class."
"Professor Periwinkle, thank you for having me," Harry said graciously, walking along the classroom to the front. They clasped hands, and Periwinkle shook it vigorously. The short, pink haired elderly woman said nothing as she walked over to the door, where Minamino was waiting for her.
"I see you've brought Professor Minamino with you, is there something I can help you with?"
"No no," Minamino reassured, waving his hand with a smile," I am merely here to speak with Professor Genkai."
"Of course! I believe our lecture is over for the day," Periwinkle said. Nothing mattered to him anymore now that Harry Potter was there. Shuichi bowed his head in thanks, and the two professors made their exit.
"As all of you know, Mr. Potter here is head of the Auror Office at the Ministry of Magic, and the youngest to achieve that title!" Periwinkle said enthusiastically. He knew a lot about Harry, it seemed. But as he continued on with his lengthy introduction, Harry couldn't stop thinking about the new Herbology professor, or the elderly lady who was here moments ago. He would certainly have to talk about this with Professor McGonagall. But then, as he noticed the students staring at him in an awkward silence, he realized that Professor Periwinkle's monologue was over, and quickly began his lecture.
Hours later, as the sixth years burst out of the DADA room full of comments, Harry found himself a chair and sank into it. The students seemed to have an infinite amount of questions, and it took all his wit to keep up with them. Periwinkle, despite wanting to stay and chat, had urgent business to attend to and left.
"I'm getting old," Harry thought to himself, letting his head hang over the back of the chair as he gazed up at the dragon skeleton above him. "Ahh, the memories," he said to himself, thinking back on how in his second year the pixies had hung poor Neville upon the ceiling. A short burst of laughter escaped his lips.
"Will you share the humor with me?" Minamino asked. His sudden appearance made Harry jump uncontrollably, and he twisted his neck in a painful way. Grabbing his injured muscles, he groaned in pain. "I'm sorry, hold on," Minamino said, pulling out his wand. He stepped behind Harry, gently moving aside his hand to replace it with his own and muttered, "Relaxo." Harry felt a warm sensation underneath Minamino's palm before the pain melted away. "Better?"
"Much better, thanks." Minamino stepped forward to face Harry as he put away his wand.
"I brought you some water. I've learned this first week that it is essential for survival as a professor." Harry gratefully accepted the mug handed to him, gulping the fresh water in big mouthfuls. Minamino proceeded to sit at an empty desk, his long legs extended outwards with one crossed over the other. In this position, Harry could see that underneath the traditional black robe he wore a lightly colored oriental outfit.
"Thank you. I'm sorry you have to take care of an old dog like me."
"Not at all." He fell silent as Harry finished the last of the water. Letting out a deep sigh, he set the mug down on a nearby desk. There was still so much he wanted to know, but he felt prudent to ask. "You seem confused," Minamino said lightly. "Perhaps, you are looking for some answers?" This guy had hit the mark.
"Well, you're Japanese, correct?"
"I am."
"Were you a student at the Mahootokoro?"
"No, I was raised a Muggle."
"A Muggle?" Harry asked incredulously. "Then, where did you learn magic?"
"No where, I learned on my own," Minamino replied with a cunning smile. Again, Harry wasn't sure how genuine it was. Everything about the young man exhibited respect, politeness, and kindness, yet there was a depth to him that he couldn't quite understand. His gut feeling was telling him not to trust him, and as head Auror, he learned to always trust his gut.
"That's incredible," Harry managed to finally say. Minamino looked down at his watch.
"I'm sorry, but I must be going. I have someone waiting for me," he said, standing up from his seat. Harry also stood up out of formality. He grabbed the mug on the counter as Minamino was about to reach for it.
"Allow me."
"Thank you." Minamino made his way to the door. He swung it open quietly, then stopped, looking back at Harry. His green eyes were downcast, and his smile was gone. "Mr. Potter, it would be wise to exercise caution. The Second Wizarding War may be behind you, but there are far worse things to come." Before Harry had time to react, the door was shut firmly behind the professor, and Harry was left alone in the DADA classroom, speechless.
One way or another, Harry had made his way anxiously into the Headmaster's Office. Professor McGonagall seemed to have taken after Dumbledore and kept the password's category candy, so it didn't take long for him to figure it out. Once he had made his way upstairs, he burst through the door with an angry expression on his face.
"Professor," he muttered out of habit, "I want to know exactly what is going on here in Hogwarts." The elderly lady sighed. She was expecting this.
"Have a seat, Potter," she motioned, waving her wand. A large fluffy blue chair shifted over with a loud creak, and Harry took it. "What is it you want to know exactly?"
"I was under the impression that Neville would be taking Professor Sprout's position. Instead, I find this, this, shady Japanese person claiming to be a professor! He looks barely over 16 years old!"
"I assure you, Neville will have the position soon enough."
"That's not the point! What I want to know is what the hell that guy is doing here!"
"It is for good reason Shuichi Minamino has been emplo-"
"I don't trust him!" Harry shouted, neglecting his chair. "James is attending school for his first year! I have to make sure it's safe for him!" He pounded the desk. "What could possibly compel you to hire such a-"
"POTTER!" Her raised voice cut through his emotions, and wearily he sat back down. "Please, if I may," she said deliberately, harshly looking down at him over her reading glasses. Harry had always thought she was old, but today she looked especially tired and frail. He sat back down in silence. "I am... retiring, at the end of this school year," she said with a sigh, removing her glasses. "And since the fall of Voldemort, there are certain things that have been lost to the Wizarding world."
She reached a hand up to one of the bookshelves along the other side of the room. A small, black book with ancient gold thread bindings floated its way to her, settling itself on the desk as her ink, papers, and quills flitted aside to give it room. "This book chronicles the history of a man named Markos Crucias." Her voice cracked suddenly. "He was a wicked, wicked man who drove us to create the Statute of Secrecy in the 1680s." She pushed the book forward on the desk. "I will be expecting you back within the week."
Still angry, confused, and scared, Harry hesitated in grabbing the book. It wasn't because he didn't trust his former professor, who had guided him well beyond his years at Hogwarts. It was the sudden wild beating in his heart that threatened to burst from his chest. The feeling he had felt from Minamino was now tenfold, and it nearly paralyzed him in fear. This book was not to be touched lightly.
"I understand, professor."
Harry decided it was best to keep the vile, dark object away from his family, so instead of going home he booked a room in Hogsmead for the week. He made sure to send an owl to Ginny, lightly informing her that his return would be delayed. He knew she wasn't going to be happy without an explanation, but for now all he was concerned about was the book.
He sat at the desk provided for him, staring at the closed book. It took him a moment to get the courage to grab the corner of the leather cover, and as he slowly peeled it back he could hear the pages inside crackling with age. Hermione would literally kill to get her hands on this book. And, oddly enough, Harry felt that the book wouldn't mind it at all.
The very first page had a simple title written in a dark red ink that Harry assumed was blood. As an Auror, he had come across many blood magic artifacts and knew the risks involved. Before moving on, he used a spell to coat his skin in a protective layer to avoid so much as a paper cut. Then, taking a deep breath, he turned to page one.
Nothing can be said for certain about Markos Crucias' life before the slaughter. Born as a lord's first son and heir, he wanted for nothing. His parents were Muggles of faith, and some say that this is what ultimately drove him. Having no brothers or sisters for company, he devoted himself to the church, calling for those who were weak of heart to find solace in his guidance. He would spend days, even months, reforming those who had fallen from God's Grace. The clergy saw him as a true servant of God, willing to sacrifice his own self for the good of others.
In truth, however, Crucias was a cruel man who found pleasure in the pain of others. Those that he reformed were tortured into God's Grace, slowly at first. Starvation, beating, and branding, to name a few. The church turned a blind eye, happy to have a true servant of God that reformed people so quickly. It was only a matter of time until Crucias familiarized himself with more intense forms of physical torture including, but not limited to, abacination, scalping, and pitchcapping.
It took many years for the church to realize Crucias' true nature. They cast him out, slandering his image and reputation. Thus began Crucias' life of solitude and seclusion of 15 years. No one knows what happened to him, and there are no records to this day of his disappearance.
He returned to the public eye in the year 1641, when the Wizarding world and Muggles found themselves at an impasse. Crucias offered his services to the Monarch, William III. He spun a tale of lies, feeding poison to the king's ear of the despicable things witches and wizards had done. He used his own victims as witnesses to his testament. The king was appalled by what he saw, and in his ignorance and haste, allowed Crucias the permission he needed to hunt.
At first, the man's endeavors seemed foolish, if not humorous. Wendelin the Weird played host to many of his executions in multiple disguises, always managing to get away at the last moment with her trademark Flame-Freezing Charm. But he got clever, and soon it wasn't just the witches and wizards falling prey to his scheme. Crucias would accuse fellow Muggles by using cheap tricks and lies. He would then put them up to impossible task to prove their innocence, where all failed. Through torture and interrogation, he had numerous victims confess to crimes they did not commit.
He appealed to the church, saying that his long disappearance had cleansed him of the devil, and that God was showing him the path to righteousness. The church welcomed him and supported his witch-hunts, appointing him as Bishop.
This angered the Wizarding world, and in a furious rage they plotted to seek revenge against the evil tyrant who threatened their way of life. They could only see his tenacious drive to torture witches and wizards that they did not see the core of the problem; the man himself was nothing more than a beast.
Deep in the night, they swarmed his house, preparing their Dark Arts. In the middle of the ceremony, Crucias awoke to find himself surrounded by witches and wizards. He attacked without mercy, killing as many as he could. The last witch, Jacquenetta Whittemore, was able to mutter the final words to the curse before she was killed.
No one expected it to turn out the way it did. The curse only proved to make him stronger than anything the world had ever seen.
And that's when the killings began.
Hundreds upon thousands of witches and wizards were hunted down by this man who was no longer human. While the adults knew well enough to hide, it was the children who were hit the hardest. They were unable to hide their natural born gift, and "accidental magic" often gave it away. The leaders in the Wizarding world tried to plea with the Monarch to call of their dog, but it was far too late.
They had created a demon.
Harry subconsciously closed the book, his eyes boring down into its thin, black leather cover. A demon. While he's certainly heard of them before, he never expected them to be real. Growing up, he had always heard fictional stories of witches and wizards summoning them to do their bidding. But as he thought about it, he couldn't ever recall a time when demons were mentioned to him seriously.
He was a little more than halfway, but Harry decided to save it for later. He slowly changed clothes, his mind trying to digest what he just read. At one point, he had accidentally found himself stuffing two legs down a single pant hole. Frustrated somehow, he started to jerk himself free, ripping the pants in two. Sighing, he figured it was better to sleep pantless anyway. He'd fix them tomorrow.
Once in bed, he blew out the lantern candle and drifted off into a dark night's sleep.
That morning a knock woke him up. "Mr. Potter sir, you have an owl." Harry dragged himself out of bed, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. "Ginny must've sent me a reply," he thought to himself. He was about to turn the door when he realized he still wasn't wearing pants. Cursing under his breath, he muttered a charm to fix them quickly and pulled them up. The patchwork wasn't great, but it'll do. "Mr. Potter!"
"I'm coming! Sorry," Harry cried out, nearly tripping over his own bag. He reached the door handle and opened it to find a busboy with his arm holding an owl. The owl was three times the size of his head and looking rather impatient. He pecked at the busboy's hair, who looks like he'd been through quite a lot. Harry extended his own arm out for the owl. "Thanks," he replied, handing the boy a few sickle for his troubles. Thankful to be rid of the owl, the boy hurried off.
Setting the owl down on the desk, he quickly untied the letter attached to its foot.
Harry,
You better tell me what's going on when you get back.
Ginny
Harry smiled. He knew he could trust his wife with anything. Grabbing a quill, he wrote a quick reply and attached it to the owl's foot, who offered it grudgingly. "Come on, Wiggles. I made sure to tell Ginny to give you lots of treats on your return." The Great Gray Howl fluffed his plumage obstinately before hopping its way to the windowsill. With a flap of his large feathery wings he leaped into the sky. Harry watched him go, feeling a twang of envy for the creature's gift of flight. He decided then that on his return to Hogwarts, he would find a broom shop to rent one.
Looking back down at his desk, his eyes were drawn to the small leather book. Harry didn't know if it could actually be called a book, it was even smaller than Tom Riddle's journal. Repeating the spell he had used the day before, he opened the book and continued reading.
For thirty-five years the massacre continued. It is impossible to put a number to the lives lost, for both wizarding folk and muggles. There was no discrimination. An organization named The Brotherhood of Twenty-Two arose to fight him, led by Eldin Espenshade. They employed the darkest magic known: demon summoning.
With demons as their allies they finally had a fighting chance. However, only a selected few were capable of summoning demons. Espenshade was the most capable of them all, and proved to be a mighty force against Crucias. His demon, Berith, had countless armies at his disposal. In the year 1684 they clashed like two titans. At the critical moment, Espenshade struck a formidable blow against Crucias, securing his victory. With his last moments, Crucias removed Espenshade's silver ring that kept Berith under his control.
Finally free, Berith turned on his master, killing him swiftly. Those who were left in The Brotherhood of Twenty-Two managed to seal the demon. With their demons, they created a stone archway leading into the afterlife, throwing Berith, Espenshade, Crucias, and themselves inside, never to return.
And thus, the world was finally free. Demon magic was abolished, and knowledge of their existence was erased. The British Ministry of Magic could not move the archway, however, and attempts to dig underneath it caused it to sink even further. So, they hid the archway deep into the earth and built around it, hiding its existence from the wizarding world.
Harry turned the page, but there was nothing more, only a few empty pages. Feeling anxious and angry, he shoved the book off the desk. It fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, its pages bent and folded awkwardly. He had always thought that his years in the ministry had revealed most if not all of his secrets. But demon summoning? He had never heard of it, even in jest! Demons were for those who believed in a higher calling.
He rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm down. The entire thing sounded like a myth to him, and not to be believed. But his son was attending Hogwarts, as would the rest of his children when they were of age. He had to protect them at all costs.
Another knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Sighing, he picked up the book, smoothing out its ancient pages before setting it back on the table. "Come in," he said.
Kingsley stepped through the door, his unique blue robes making the only noise audible. "Mr. Potter, it is my understanding that Headmistress McGonagall has shared some information with you." His voice was low and held none of its reassuring tones that Harry was so used to. "May I?" he asked.
"Of course, Minister," Harry said, standing up from his chair. He shut the door behind Kingsly, who conjured a chair for himself. "I don't know what to make of it myself."
"It is a troubling topic indeed." There was a moment of silence as the two men sized up the situation. "What I am about to say to you cannot be repeated. It is information that is only known by the British Minister and no one else. Minerva should have never known, nor was it her place to share it with you." Harry's heart jumped to his throat as Kingsley's eyes glanced towards the book. "To have it in your possession only leads to your death."
"Minister, are you here to kill me?" Harry asked nervously. His hand was itching to grab his wand, which was currently sitting on the bed three feet away. Kingsley's eyes snapped back to Harry, narrowed. Suddenly, the wrinkles around them relaxed, and Kingsley gave him a warm smile.
"No Harry, I'm not here to kill you." Harry let go of the breath he had been holding, relieved. "We have been friends for many years, and to have you killed would break my heart. No, this is something that got out of hand before your time." He reached forward, picking up the book with a delicate hand to pocket it in his robes. "Have you read the book?"
"I have." Kingsly nodded to himself.
"Good. Then you will accompany me to visit Minerva. There is a lot to be discussed." He stood up from his chair, which disappeared the moment he stood.
"So much for getting a broom," Harry thought to himself.
Waiting for them in the Headmaster's office was Minamino, the professor he only knew as Genkai, and three others he couldn't identify. They stood behind the headmistress sitting in her chair, their foreign dress clashing horribly with the surrounding atmosphere. They truly looked out of this world. "Good evening Minister, Mr. Potter."
"It is good to see you again, Minerva," Kingsley responded amicably. She gave him a feeble smile. "It has been too long."
"Too long indeed. Let me introduce my collegues. Starting from the left, Shuichi Minamino, Yusuke Urameshi, Hiei Jaganshi, Koenma, and Genkai." Four of them bowed their heads, while the last one simply scoffed. "Before you is the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Harry Potter, head of the Auror Office in the ministry."
"Auror?" the one called Yusuke asked. He looked no older than Shuichi with his hair slicked back.
"An Auror official works to apprehend and detain dark wizards and witches," McGonagall provided. "It is a difficult profession."
"Hmph, no kidding," the youth responded back. Shuichi nudged him, a sign to behave no doubt.
"I assume, Minister, you are here for the book."
"Yes, and it has safely returned to my possession," Kingsley responded warily. "May I ask, how did it come into your hands, headmistress?"
"It was given to Albus when former minister Millicent Bagnold retired, and in turn he handed it to me shortly before his death," McGonagall replied sharply.
"But why would Millicent give it to Albus? Surely it was meant for Cornelius upon his coronation."
"Indeed. It is my belief that she saw Cornelius for who he really was, and handed it to the only person she could trust." Kingsley nodded to himself. There had been no better man to trust than Albus Dumbledore.
"Has anyone else seen this?"
"Outside of this room, there is no one alive who knows what is going on."
"I don't know what's going on," Harry interjected. The whole situation made him feel like a child again, where no one would tell him anything. "All of this seems extremely dangerous. Why aren't people more aware of this?"
"Let me start from the beginning, Harry," said Kingsley. "As you know, there lies in the Department of Mysteries the Veil. To our knowledge, it is a doorway between our world and the afterlife, with no return." Harry remembered it well, since it was the place where his godfather died. "A few weeks ago, the employees expressed their concern to me about recent activity, worried that it might bring harm to the wizarding world. They reported that the voices behind the Veil were becoming restless and repeating one word: Crucias." A shiver ran down Harry's spine. The room had suddenly gotten cold. Kingsley was fidgeting with something on his finger before pulling it off, revealing a simple silver ring. "This ring is passed down from Minister to Minister. I have never questioned its origin or simplicity until recently, and now I believe it to be the ring of Eldin Espenshade. It is what brought me here to the book."
"So it is true?" McGonagall asked softly. Kingsley nodded solemnly. One of the foreigners, Koenma, stepped forward. He was tall with a slim build, and also wore robes of blue that were trimmed with a bright red. He looked older than both Shuichi and Yusuke, and in his mouth was a ... pacifier? Harry couldn't really tell.
"May I see it?" he asked. Kingley handed him the ring, which he inspected very carefully.
"This is full of spirit energy," he muttered, "and a very powerful object. While it doesn't have any negative effects, if put into the wrong hands it could be dangerous."
"Spirit energy?" Harry asked. Koenma looked up at him, and Harry finally noticed the letters Jr printed on his forehead.
"Our world is very different from yours, Harry, and demons even more so. To put it simply, inside every human lies body energy and spirit energy. Body energy can show an aptitude for magic, but everyone, if properly trained, can use spirit energy in some shape or form, be it small or large. Demons also harness an energy, but the two are not to be confused." He motioned towards the others. "Yusuke, Kurama, come over here."
"Kurama?" Yusuke and Shuichi stepped forward from behind McGonagall. "It must be a nickname."
"Yusuke is a human, and wields spirit energy," Koenma said. The boy grinned and held out his hand. It began to glow a bright blue, and Harry felt something he could only explain as a good vibe. "Kurama is a demon-"
"Demon?!" Shuichi's face remained unchanged.
"Right, sorry, forgot to mention," Koenma said briskly. "Kurama and Hiei are both demons that work for me. They will not harm you in anyway."
"Not worth my time," he heard Hiei mutter under his breath. Koenma gave him a sideways glance.
"Anyway, as I was saying, Kurama uses demon energy." Shuichi put out his hand, which was glowing bright purple. It felt completely different from Yusuke's energy; a bad vibe. Harry couldn't help but cringe.
"If I could interrupt," Genkai said, her voice piercing. "We have yet to discuss what we plan to do. The lessons can wait."
"Right, sorry Genkai." Koenma, Yusuke, and Shuichi stepped back.
"For now," McGonagall spoke, "we shall have Genkai and Shuichi posing as professors. Yusuke will act as Groundskeeper, and Hiei..." Her voice trailed with uncertainty.
"I'll be around," the short man said gruffly. How his hair managed to stay straight up was a mystery to Harry.
"There is also one other who will be joining us, and he will be the Caretaker. The five of them will serve as protection for Hogwarts, should anything arise." McGonagall grew quiet. Genkai glanced at her expectantly. "We will also be educating the students about demons in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class." Kingsley's brow creased.
"And you were planning to tell me this when?"
"What we teach here at Hogwarts is no longer your concern," McGonagall said swiftly. "Ever since that ridiculous woman barged in here 20 years ago I have worked tirelessly to ensure it doesn't happen again."
"Dully noted, Headmistress," Kingsley said, his voice betraying his emotion. "However as both minister and friend, I cannot agree with you."
"If anything were to happen Kingsley, the children should be prepared for the worst," McGonagall stated firmly.
"To be fair," Genkai cut in, "if demons were to attack Hogwarts there would be little you could do. Unless the students were to learn demon magic, which to my understanding is lost to you, there is nothing stopping them from burning the whole place down." She turned her attention to Kingsley. "Minister, I understand your concern. However, the last time we attempted to cover something up, it came back to bite us in the ass." Kingsley sighed, deep in thought.
"You are my friend Minerva, and I trust your judgment. If you believe it to be necessary, I shall not stop you." He stood up from his chair. "However, I want you to discuss these decisions with me, so that I am not kept in the dark. Will you do that?"
"Of course, Kingsley," McGonagall reassured him.
"And if you need anything from the ministry, do not hesitate to ask."
"Actually, there is one thing you can do. We would like to borrow Mr. Potter for a while." Everyone's attention was turned to Harry, who looked around incredulously.
"What could I possibly do, professor? I know nothing about demons."
"It seems that Professor Minamino has shown an aptitude for wizardry, and needs a mentor." Kingsley stood up from his chair.
"He is yours, if he is willing," the minister said. "I will find you a suitable replacement for the time being, Harry."
"I would be glad to," Harry responded.
"I am under your care," Shuichi said to Harry, bowing. He was so polite and normal looking, it was hard to believe that he was a demon."Thank you, Minister Kingsley." He nodded and left the office, and Yusuke let out a tremendous sigh.
"I'm glad that's over!" he said loudly, stretching out his arms. "Man, this is getting to be such a pain in the ass."
"I need to make my leave as well," Koenma said to McGonagall.
"Thank you Koenma for being here. Your help in the matter is appreciated."
"Let's just hope my father doesn't hear of this," he said darkly before disappearing without a sound. Harry would say he Disapparated, but he knew it wasn't possible on Hogwarts. He made sure to add it to his list of questions, which by now was growing exponentially.
"So you're Harry Potter," Yusuke said, bemused. "I thought you'd be skinnier." Harry didn't know what to say to that. Genkai stepped up next to him, pinching his arm. "Ow! What the hell was that for Grandma?!"
"Be nice, dimwit," she scolded harshly. "You could certainly learn a thing or two from Kurama." This reminded Harry, who turned to Shuichi.
"Is Kurama a nickname for you?" he asked. Shuichi smiled.
"In a way. You may call me whatever you wish."
"I heard you did some pretty amazing things a while back," Yusuke mentioned. "Defeating a dark wizard, that must've been tough." He didn't sound very impressed, but Harry kept up the niceness.
"You didn't hear about it? It was a pretty big deal." Before Yusuke could say anymore, there came a noise from the staircase.
"Yusuke get yer butt movin'! We got a lot to cover- 'Arry!" Hagrid exclaimed happily. "I 'aven't seen ya since Lily's birthday party!" Harry grinned, striding over to the large half-giant.
"Hagrid! It's so great to see you," he said happily, giving him a hug. He knew he couldn't reach all the way around him, but he tried anyway.
"What brings ya all the way down 'ere?"
"Ahem." McGonagall coughed loudly. "I have a lot of work needing to be done, so if the four of you would leave." Harry looked around, realizing that Genkai and Hiei had already disappeared.
"Sorry Professor." Shuichi apologized. He ushered Yusuke and Hagrid out of the office quietly. Harry was about to leave when a thought occured to him.
"Professor, where will I be staying?" he asked.
"We have a room prepared for you in the East Wing. Have Professor Minamino show you the way." Harry's face turned sour. After discovering the truth about Shuichi, he didn't feel so comfortable being around him. "Oh, and Harry," McGonagall called to him. "Not a word of this to anyone, do I make myself clear?" Harry nodded. "Good. You may leave."
