Hello! Welcome to the third in a series of crossovers between Harry Potter and Bleach. If you have not read the first two (Year 1: The Utterly Despicable Stone and Year 2: The Chamber of Delightful Coolness) I suggest reading them first. This will not make much sense if you don't have the background.
"Talking" Thinking "Speaking to/from zanpakuto" "Speaking in Japanese"
This takes place in the third book of Harry Potter and after the Winter War in Bleach. There will be spoilers.
Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.
Enjoy!
*Previously on Year 2: The Chamber of Delightful Coolness*
"I know you don't believe it now, but the stories you were told are not true. With time you shall see that. Good bye. I will see you in September."
He turned on his heel and walked briskly away, following the faint trail of Harry's reiatsu. Even with a restrainer on, it was impossible to completely mask it. He saw the boy getting into a blue car with a very large man and boy and a very thin woman.
So these are the Dursleys. He followed the car from far above. Athena met him there, and he let her land on his shoulder. "We're following Potter home," he said to her. "I don't like it, but I have orders."
She chirped.
"I still don't understand you, but that's fine. You'll be my only friend while I'm there. Not that I had many at Hogwarts." He paused to shunpo forward. "Sorry. You'd better get used to that."
Athena bit his ear.
"Hey! Fine, I'll give you warning next time. Just don't do that!" Athena resettled her wings.
He watched the car wind its way through London traffic and sighed. "I know he ordered me to do this because it's my fault he developed powers, but I'm a Captain! There has to be something more productive for me to do."
Deciding that he could just follow the boy's spiritual ribbon, he landed on the roof of an ornate building to wait. "Peace is so boring." He watched a human wearing a red uniform and a large, shaggy black hat march back and forth. People were gathered not far away, taking pictures of him. "What are they doing?"
He stood and told Athena, "You'd better get off now. I don't think the humans would take kindly to seeing you floating in midair."
She chirped and took off. Toshiro jumped down to the ground. He watched the human in red pace. "Well, as long as I'm here, I might as well look around." He turned and shunpoed off.
From across the street, a tall figure wearing muggle clothes watched a small boy with white hair jump from the roof, land lightly on the ground, and disappear moments later.
"Now, what are you?" he murmured softly. "Little boy, what secrets do you hold?" He turned and vanished amongst the crowd of people.
The stars in the sky above number four, Privet Drive, were barely visible. Toshiro lay on his back, one hand cushioning his head, and stared up at the dark dome above, breathing deeply and evenly. The heat of the summer day still lingered in the roof tiles, warm to the touch.
The Great Serpent should be there, he mused, tracing the nonexistent constellation with his free hand.
"I wonder," his zanpakuto spirit, Hyourinmaru, murmured sleepily, "if the stars in Soul Society and on Earth are the same. If we could travel to them, where would we be?"
Toshiro put his hand down on his stomach and shrugged. "That is not our concern, though. We are responsible for the souls of Earth, not those amongst the stars."
"But if we were!" Hyourinmaru drew in a long, deep breath. "What a life that would be! I would like that, to see the stars."
"So would I. Maybe someday. But for now we will have to be content with watching them from down here."
Hyourinmaru settled down again, and in the renewed silence Toshiro began to hear sounds: creaking and rustling. Curious, he pushed himself to his feet and walked down the sloped roof, braced one foot on reishi-hardened air, and slid carefully in the open window. Inside the large room, he saw Harry had begun his nightly homework ritual, lying on his stomach in bed with a sheet drawn over his head to minimize the glow of the flashlight that he was using to read his textbook. He barely looked up from the text as Toshiro wandered over to briefly read over his shoulder then sit in the chair by the desk. He watched as Harry looked over the page, pausing on a small paragraph before writing something down.
"History?" Toshiro asked.
"Yup."
There was a short silence, in which the only sounds were the scratching of Harry's eagle-feather quill on the parchment. Finally, bored, Toshiro got up and went to the window but paused at the unexpected sound of the boy's voice.
"The ice – that's the basilisk, right?"
Toshiro froze, memories rushing through his mind like torrents of water. Finally he blinked them away and twisted to sit in the window, nodding. "Yes," he answered cautiously. "Why?"
Harry tapped the end of the quill against his chin. "I was just wondering why you carry it around."
Toshiro fingered the band of ice around his arm. "It was her last request." He stared down at it for a moment more before adding softly, "Besides, she isn't dead."
Two emerald eyes were widened with surprise, but Toshiro didn't elaborate. He dropped his hand away and stood. "I'll be on the roof." With that, he disappeared. Harry stared out the now-empty window for a moment before going back to his homework.
There were no Hollows in this city!
Toshiro shunpoed forward again, reappearing above a murky river. He glared down at it and the small shapes that were boats. How many wizards live here, and yet you can't attract just one Hollow! What good are you?
Hyourinmaru laughed in his inner world. "Relax, master. Go down, enjoy the sights and the people."
"Right," Toshiro muttered. "Getting pushed and yelled at is great fun."
"Then don't go in your gigai. People can just pass right through you, then."
"And then a wizard would see me and I'd have a huge problem on my hands. No, I won't go down any further than this."
"You did it the first day in this city."
"Yeah, and you remember how that turned out."
They both winced. "Perhaps you'd better get your gigai," Hyourinmaru agreed.
Ten minutes later found Toshiro in his gigai, having pulled it from his trunk. Luckily he could get it out of the magically-shrunken space – how it happened he had no idea, but he was just glad it worked.
"The adjustments Kurotschuchi made are surprisingly comfortable," Toshiro said, enjoying his new height. Hyourinmaru chuckled.
Toshiro was winding his way through the streets when he came across a shop selling televisions, all playing the same news broadcast. He stopped to listen, curious.
"The public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous," an anchor was saying. "A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately." A picture was shown on the screens of a tall, gaunt man with greasy, stringy hair and a wild glint in his eyes. He was being held back by at least two security guards.
"Disgraceful," someone muttered near him. He looked up to see a tall man wearing a wide-brimmed hat and darkly-tinted sunglasses.
"Why?" Toshiro asked. "What did he do?"
The corners of the man's mouth turned up. "Not him. The prison. He was being held in the most secure facility in the world and yet he somehow disappeared."
"You think the guards let him escape?"
The man glanced down at him. "You are very sharp. But no, that is not what I think. The guards, despite all their faults, would not have let him escape." The man turned away. "Have a good day."
Toshiro repeated the nicety as the man disappeared into the crowd.
It wasn't until much later that he realized the news broadcast had never said the name of the prison.
When Toshiro slipped back into the house after changing his gigai, he found Harry sulking in his room, an incredibly irritated look on his face.
"Couldn't find anything on your essay?" he asked, making Harry jump.
"Don't sneak up on me!"
Toshiro paused, sitting on the window. "All right…what's wrong?"
"You assume something's wrong." Harry glared at the Shinigami captain.
"Am I wrong?"
"N-no, you're right. It's just…my aunt's coming to visit." He looked glumly at the floor. Toshiro tilted his head and shifted to find a more comfortable position to sit in.
"I take it you do not like her?"
Harry laughed humorlessly. "More like she hates me. Did you know at Dudley's fifth birthday party she would hit my ankles with her cane to stop me from winning at musical chairs?"
"No," Toshiro said cautiously, but he was now being ignored. The young wizard was fuming, rambling on angrily.
"And then, when Dudley got a robot at Christmas I got dog biscuits. Biscuits! Then three years ago I accidently stepped on Ripper's tail and he chased me up a tree. She wouldn't call the thing off until after midnight! She was laughing," he added finally.
Toshiro was listening to this with some concern. Why hadn't he ever complained? This sounded like something that should be stopped. Immediately.
"Did she ever hurt you?" he asked softly, and whether it was his tone of voice or his expression or some other factor, Harry took notice and looked over at him.
"No, not really. Why?"
Toshiro chose not to answer. If, after everything that happened, Harry still held onto some scrap of innocence, he would not be the one to rob him of that. Still, he would be watching very carefully during this aunt's visit.
"What is her name?" he asked. "And would she be able to see me?"
"No, she's as Muggle as the Dursleys. Her name's Aunt Marge; Uncle Vernon's sister. She hates me, like everyone else."
"I gathered that," Toshiro said dryly. "Why don't you just stay up here while she's visiting?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "I wish. Nah, she makes me stay around her just so she can tell me what I'm doing wrong, compare me to Dudley; really just tell me how horrible I am."
The aunt arrived an hour or so later. Toshiro was once again on the roof, and was the first to notice the car pulling in, gravel crunching under its wheels. Toshiro jumped lightly down to stand by the walk and watch as the passenger exited the vehicle: a large, beefy woman with a purple face. He wasn't certain, but Toshiro thought he saw a mustache on her upper lip. An old bulldog was tucked under one arm, and it growled in the Shinigami's direction as the woman waddled past.
Inside the greetings were loud. The woman – who was clearly Aunt Marge – roared for her 'Dudders', her 'neffy-poo'. Toshiro scoffed at the names, and he was quick to notice the twenty-pound note that Dudley suddenly had after pulling away from his aunt's hug. Marge kissed Petunia's cheek, and the conversation was continued in the kitchen. Harry shot Toshiro an apologetic look as he followed.
Very soon the Dursleys were seated around the kitchen table, both guests now with tea. The dog, whom Toshiro assumed must be Ripper, was lapping noisily from its bowl, spraying flecks of tea and drool over the previously clean floor.
They talked for some time. Toshiro stood in the corner, arms crossed, attentively watching the proceedings. He did not necessarily agree with how they treated Harry, though he could not entirely fault them. They did provide him with food, clothes, and shelter. And while he did not fully agree with their behavior, he would not intervene unless something drastic happened. Then they could expect his full wrath.
A dark rumbling from his inner world represented Hyourinmaru's agreement with this sentiment.
He watched as the day went on, listened to their conversations, and came to the conclusion that he did not like this woman. At all. And neither did he like her dog. Early on in the day he left the room to scan the city for Hollows (because he was getting utterly bored and very much wanted a fight) when her dog followed him out. It was growling deep in its throat, and as soon as they exited the house he whipped around, getting on one knee and gripping its chin tightly with one hand. At first it struggled, but then he started speaking and it stilled, looking at him with fear in its eyes. When he was done, he – and it was very clearly a male – went whimpering back into the house.
Harry had apparently watched the exchanged, as he stepped out next to Toshiro. "What'd you do to him?" he asked, wide-eyed.
Toshiro straightened. "I told him what would happen if he crossed me."
"And he understood you?"
Toshiro couldn't help but snort at the young wizard's utterly bewildered expression. "No. At some point if you have enough control over your reiatsu you can manipulate it to suit your needs. Animals are much more perceptive than humans, and it does not take much to scare them."
Harry nodded, turned to go back in the house, and hesitated. "Will you teach me how to control my re-ra-rea…"
Toshiro let the boy ramble on as he considered him. While he had expected this request eventually, he had not thought it would come this soon.
Even among the trio, Harry was the middle one. He was not as smart as Hermione nor as lazy as Ron. He loved Quidditch, but not to Ron's excessive extent or Hermione's disregard of the sport. And while Hermione had accepted Toshiro for what he was, Ron, having grown up with stories of evil Shinigami, had rejected him. Harry, however, had seemed to be undecided, or at least Toshiro thought he was.
Harry noticed the captain's silence and stopped trying to pronounce the word. "What?" he asked uncomfortably.
Toshiro considered how to phrase his question. "You wish for me to teach you. You are remembering that I am not human?"
Harry's gaze lowered to the grass below, and he prodded at it with the toe of one shoe. "I know. It's just…you didn't…you don't seem bad – at least, like Ron's stories."
"Because they are just that," Toshiro said calmly. "Stories. They have been passed on for many years and have gone farther and farther from the truth each time they are told. They have very little fact in them; just enough that I cannot entirely dissuade his beliefs."
A bird chirped in a nearby tree just as the Dursleys' voices rose in laughter. Harry nodded. "Still…if what I have is so dangerous, shouldn't you teach me to control it?"
And there was what Toshiro didn't want him to say. "Yes," he said carefully, "but I am not sure how you would handle your powers. They are not normally for…you, and I do not know if they would behave the same for you as for us."
Luckily Harry did not pursue his hesitation. "So you won't teach me?"
"I did not say that." Harry opened his mouth to argue but Toshiro held up a hand, forestalling him. "I did not say I will not train you. I said I don't know how your powers will react. If that is your wish I will train you, but we will go slowly. And we will not start until school starts again. I wish to be able to put up protective barriers before we mess with your powers."
Harry seemed satisfied. "Good. I've been getting…I don't know…pent-up energy? I feel like I want to be in constant motion, if that makes sense."
"It does." Toshiro nodded sympathetically. "All Shinigami get that way if we do not release our energy. Normally we have enough to do fighting Hollows that we do not have excess energy, but that problem is most common with the Twelfth Division. You should last until school. But…"
Now he hesitated. He had thought about Harry's training – how hard, how far, and so forth – but he wasn't certain if he should try to get the boy in contact with his inner spirit. "I will think on the best way to start your training. Depending on what it is, we may start before school."
"I thought…"
"That is training with your actual powers. There are other things we can do with your restrained powers to prepare."
Harry nodded. "All right." The voices of his family rose again, and he looked back. "I'd better get back in there." He turned. "Are you coming?"
Toshiro shook his head. "No, I'm going to make a sweep of the city. I'll be back soon."
They parted ways, Harry back to the house with his relatives, and Toshiro to the air far above the city.
The sun was setting three days later, light bouncing off the water of the river and scattering little flecks of light on the surrounding buildings. Toshiro stood far above the city watching the sun set. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, scowling at the thick, polluted air.
How anyone can live here for any length of time without fresh air, I have no idea, he thought. The air was so different from in Soul Society. There it was clear, sharp, untainted by smog and smoke.
And you could see the stars there.
Toshiro looked up to the sky as the top rim of the sun slid below the horizon, finding the moon surrounded by a sickly yellow ring. Someday the pollution will clear. I would like to see this city again then.
He stayed out until almost all the light had been leeched from the sky before heading back to Harry's house. He dropped out of shunpo, all his breath suddenly leaving his lungs in one forced exhalation. Struggling to draw in a deep breath, Toshiro practically swam through the magic-infused air until he reached the house and passed in through an open window, making his way down to the dining room as fast as he could. Once he rounded the corner he stopped dead.
There, bouncing gently against the ceiling, all her clothes straining at the seams, was Marge. She was swollen as if she had had a very, very bad allergic reaction, and was yelling at Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley to get her down! Vernon was standing on a chair – the poor legs of which were trembling under his immense weight – and had hold of her hand, but wasn't having much success getting her down. Dudley was still sitting at the table and watching television. Petunia was yelling advice to her husband.
And Ripper? He had climbed up a chair onto the table and was eating the food.
Toshiro shook his head in disbelief, blinking heavily to clear his eyes. But it was not to be; they were all still there. Making a sudden decision, he turned on his heel and strode out of the house into the gathering darkness.
He entered his gigai in the shelter of a restroom in a nearby park, then continued on his way, following the angry trail of Harry's magic.
"I was gone for ten minutes!" he exclaimed. "How did he manage to do that?"