Her hand tightened around Sode no Shirayuki, who was still in her wand form. It was nice to feel the familiar cold under her palm. Ichigo this time wasn't going easy on her. She almost smiled. Thinking about there was a time when she mopped the floor with him thanks to her talents with wandless magic. Rukia saw as something black flashed next to her.
"Tsugi no mai, Hakuren!'' She called out. Her - in fact the entire class' - twelwe audience gasped as huge amount of snow shot out of the end of her zanpakuto. But if they'd know what are zanpakutous capable of in released state... That's why she hated to use these thechniques in this shape - however it might look fascinating and powerful, in unsealed form they're even stronger and awesome.
Of course, Ichigo easely avoided her attack, and rewarded with a stronger Chinese origined spell which can cause pretty much... Damage if it hits the target directly. So, now it was her time to jump. Curses, jinxes and hexes followed each other when Rukia held her hand up in defeat. Ichigo grinned.
"Well done, Ichigo, Rukia," jumped Urahara next to them. "Then, the next pair is... Oh." He sounded quite sad when the bell rang. However most of the second years of Hogwarts and a few from their own school seemed to be relived to return into the warmth of the castle. After all to sit outside in two celsiuses in November... Cannot be considered as comfortable. She snickered. Goodness. If they'd know how many times did they have to practice back in Japan in the minuses outside without anything to keep you warm except for the training clothes... The good old days...
"Hey, Rukia, are you in there?" Asked Ichigo as he waved his hand in front of her face. "I don't wanna be late from lunch, you know."
"Seriously, you're almost worse then Renji. He has a bottomless stomach, though yours is only almost bottomless."
"I heard that!" Yelled the redhead.
"Face the fact Renji, what she says is true." Put Ikkaku his hand onto his shoulder.
"At least I'm not bald!"
"Whaaat did youuu saaay?"
"Oh, come on, you two. Starting a fight fueled by anger is not beautiful at all." Said Yumichika behind them. Ichigo rolled his eyes. Finally they reached the Great Hall. As they sat down to the Gryffindor's table - they finally found it's name out - he got numerous glares filled with hatred. Well, it wasn't that surprising, after all he was the champion of an other school, not theirs.
"So, let me get this straight. They let that Potter kid take part in this Tournament, however he is under age? Are they nuts?'' Ichigo sighed. She was talking about it for almost a week now.
''For the last time Rukia - yes they let him. As for your second question, I don't know, but that Bangman probably."
"Bagman."
"Whatever. Anyway, it's their problem, not mine."
"That's exactly what I'm talking about! That kid will survive the first task, if he's lucky. And then they can write into their pretty books "another Tournament with dead champion"."
"They said that these tasks won't be as hard as the old ones were."
"Yeah. Not. Sure. How many times did they said that before? Stop playing with that piece of meat, Renji."
"Yes, ma'am," growled he. "Anyway, will you come with me to practice Sokatsui?"
"You think that's a good idea? You'll blow up not only yourself, but the castle, too."
"At least I do not suck at zanjutsu."
"At least I can use kidou properly."
"Well, at least I'm..." He could not finish his sentence, because their neighbour, Ron nearly shouted at them.
"Could you stop talking in Japanese, or better yet, simply shut up?" One of the twins who sat next to him gave him a look.
"Hey, calm down, bro."
"Yeah, it's not like people want to have lunch in peace, right?" Joined the other one, too.
"So just let them fight, okay?"
"Will you two just..."
"Shut up, too?" Asked the one who sat next to Renji. "Oh, Ronny-monny..."
"I think there is something wrong with your head."
"After all, only our mother can order ask to eat in silence.''
''And you're not our mother, aren't you?''
''Or is he?'' Twin No.:1 looked at Twin No.:2 with fake worried expression. Their brother snorted, but said nothing. Suddenly a hand touched Ichigo's shoulder. It was Urahara.
"May I have a word with you, Kurosaki - kun?" He asked in Japanese.
"Of course."
"You should come up to room 245 by half past one. We'll have the weighing of the wands. And... Ahh. Nevermind." He hid his smile behind his well-known fan.
"To not mind something first I should know what I should not mind. Tell me, Urahara!"
"Oh, my... Well, they have invited a reporter and a photographer."
"For what?"
"Really, Ichigo. Why do people usually invite photographers?" Rukia interrupted.
"Uhh.. No way."
"Yeah, that's the situation. So, at half past one in 245!" Said Urahara as he waved good bye and joined to Dumbledore. Ichigo looked at the green-silver table - Slytherin's? - and saw a quite pale Krum after Karkaroff left the table. He had a very good suspicion why was he so white. He raised an eyebrow and almost smirked. People would think that somebody so famous would get used to the light of flashes and reporters.
Time passed by. Well, in fact jumped by. Once he was cleaning up after Renji the shattered glasses - because when his hadou touched the wooden target instead of blowing it up it transformed into glasses - and in the next moment he was in the castle, lost. Unfortunately, it wasn't easier to search after Urahara's reiatsu because of two reasons - for one, he still sucked at it, and two, plenty of the teachers and some students also had quite high spiritual pressure. He hissed as some kind of idiot ghost managed to threw a book onto his head. After he dealt with him (konsou was forbidden, so that damned spirit got away with a Bakudou No.:4) and put him into a nice, little chamber he heard somebody yell behind the next door.
"I have NOT got tears in my eyes!" He opened the wooden thing which revealed the infamous Harry Potter with anger flaming in his eyes and a strange blonde woman.
"Excuse me. Probably I interrupted you two?"
"Oh, yes my dear, you just did. You didn't know that normal people knock before stepping into somewhere?"
"Normal people neither hide in a broom cupboard, either."
"You... Dumbledore!" she cried out. "How are you? I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference?"
"Enchantingly nasty," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat." Ichigo's mouth fell open and he saw as Harry's eyes widened slightly. She did what?
"I was just making the point that some of your ideas are a little old-fashioned, Dumbhedore, and that many wizards in the street—"
"I will be delighted to hear the reasoning behind the rudeness, Rita, but I'm afraid we will have to discuss the matter later. The Weighing of the Wands is about to start, and it cannot take place if one of our champions is hidden in a broom cupboard and the other one is about to start a fight with our dear reporter." Harry seemed to be more than happy to get away from the woman. In the room other champions were sitting in chairs near the door, and both of them sat down quickly, looking up at the velvet-covered table, where five of the six judges were now sitting — Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Mr. Crouch, Professor Urahara and Ludo Bagman.
"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, taking his place at the judges' table and talking to the champions. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."
Ichigo followed Harry's gaze and saw an old wizard with large, pale eyes standing quietly by the window. He didn't know why but the man gave him chills. And how that comes that no matter how bad he is at it, he cannot feel the slightest signs of spiritual energy in him?
"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.
Fleur Delacour swept over to Mr. Olhivander and handed him her wand.
"Hmm..." He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it chose to his eyes and examined it carefully. "Yes, nine and a half inches... inflexible.. rosewood... and containing... dear me..."
"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela. One of my grandmuzzer's."
"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands... however, to each his own, and if this suits you.."
Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.
"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand. "Mr. Diggory, you next."
Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Cedric as he passed her.
"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it? Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn... must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches... ash... pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition... You treat it regularly?"
"Polished it last night," said Cedric, grinning. Ichigo gave Harry a look when he saw sparks fly out of the end of his wand as he rubbed it. Fleur did the same.
Mr. Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric's wand, pronounced himself satisfied, and then said, "Mr. Kurosaki, would you be so kind?"
Ichigo stood up and almost grinned. Zangetsu was not too fond of the idea of even being only touched by somebody else. Or Rukia. Who knows why her.
"May I?" Ichigo nodded and gave his "wand" to him. He did not even hold it for a second when he yelled in pain and almost dropped it. The orangehead's eyes widened and the judges jumped up. Worry and shock shone in all of their eyes - except for Karkaroff's who had shock and excitement in them. Urahara's gaze flashed onto him and then back to the gasping wandmaker. He heard Zangetsu shouting in the back of his mind and Rita's quill continued writing at a greater speed. Finally Mr. Ollivander was able to straighten himself and continued examining the wand.
"Metal... Yet it isn't. No core at all. Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you a shinigami, Mr. Kurosaki?"
"No. Not yet." He saw as Cedric and Fleur looked at each other with a puzzled look. The old wandmaker nodded.
"Yes, yes. Quite an aggressive soul, that one. I think you better be careful with it." He murmured something, turned a chair into a white dog and then back to chair, he gave the wand back to Ichigo, who was amazed. Zangetsu never ever let anybody else but him do magic with him. By the way...
"(Hey, old man, what was that?)"
"(He decided to scare him a bit.)" Ichigo scowled. Great. Meanwhile Mr. Ollivander was finished with Krum and called Harry out.
"Aaaah, yes. Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember." Was it only him, or the Potter boy seemed to be tense a bit?
Mr. Ollivander spent much longer examining Harry's wand than anyone else's. Eventually, however, he made a fountain of wine shoot out of it, and handed it back to him, announcing that it was still in perfect condition.
"Thank you all," said Dumbledore, standing up at the judges' table. "You may go back to your lessons now—or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end—"
They all got up to go, but a man with a black camera jumped up and cleared his throat. Krum growled.
"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" cried Bagman excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"
"Er—yes, let's do those first. And then perhaps some individual shots." She said as she gave looks to the youngest champion.
The photographs took a long time. Madame Maxime cast everyone else into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn't stand far enough back to get her into the frame; eventually she had to sit while everyone else stood around her. Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger to give it an extra curl; Krum, skulked, half-hidden, at the back of the group. So Ichigo was right. The photographer seemed keenest to get Fleur at the front, but the reporter kept hurrying forward and dragging Harry into greater prominence and pushed the Japanese champion into the background, next to the other judges. Then she insisted on separate shots of all the champions. At last, they were free to go.
"How was the weighing?" Asked Rukia when he sat down next to her.
"I think 'horrible' is not a strong word enough."
"Was it that bad?"
"No, I'm just joking. Of course it was!" He sighed. "Well, probably it wouldn't be if that blonde woman wasn't there. She couldn't stand to not give any comments."
"Well, that what reporters do."
"I don't care." Rukia giggled.
-end-of-chapter-
It's me again! Nothing much to say - I'm working on a Sode no Shirayuki cosplay... And my grammar not really improved yet. Though I hope that you could enjoy at least some parts of this chapter.
