Inexorable Inevitability

Chapter 4: Inductility

Illusion is the first of all pleasures.

- Oscar Wilde


Harry rushed down hallway after hallway as silently as possible, clutching the woman's scroll and mirror to his chest. The rotating staircases, as fickle as ever, had dropped him off two floors below his goal before grinding to a screeching halt, forcing Harry to use some of the odd hidden passageways he remembered from the Marauder's Map to get up to the seventh floor.

Speaking of the Marauder's Map, his father's legacy would have come in handy as Harry skidded around a corner, smack dab in front of his newest Defense professor.

"Oh my, what do we have here?" Harry shuddered in disgust as an oily grin crossed Umbridge's face, making her appear more like a frog than usual. "Wandering the halls after curfew, Me. Potter? Tut tut."

"Oh, no, Professor." Harry panted, trying to catch his breath. "I was just returning to Gryffindor from the Hospital Wing."

"Of course, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said sweetly, and a flash of vindictiveness lit up her eyes. "Mr. Malfoy already informed me of your little fainting spell. He was quite concerned about your 'frail and fragile' body; I believe that is what he said.

Harry bit back a vicious swear; who did that bastard think he was!?

"Please give him my thanks, Professor," Harry said politely, a little thrown by the woman's predatory grin. She looked like the cat that finally caught the canary.

"Why not thank him yourself?" Umbridge asked, ignoring Harry's dismayed spluttering. "I was just about to visit Professor Snape's office for a little chat, and I am sure he won't mind summoning his godson for you."

Harry's thoughts were racing, torn between trying to figure out how to get out of the situation he had managed to land himself in (visiting Slytherin, especially at night, especially if he had to thank Malfoy? Hell no!) and boggling over the idea that someone trusted the acerbic potions master enough to leave their son's well-being in his hands.

"No, its fine, I wouldn't want to wake him up at this late hour," Harry rambled, backing away from the grinning professor.

"As you wish, Mr. Potter. Now, off to bed!" Umbridge smiled that same disgusting smile that sent shivers down his spine. "No more dawdling in the halls!"

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, annoyed that he had to act so deferentially in front of the bitch. He turned around to walk away, but before he could take a single step, Umbridge's distinctive cough froze him in his tracks.

"Hem hem. Mr. Potter, one last thing before you go." Umbridge's predatory grin turned vicious. "Those things you are carrying; hand them over."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. Dammit, how had she known? He had hid the mirror and scroll as best he could as soon as he saw her; she shouldn't have been able to spot them on him.

"I don't have all night, Mr. Potter," Umbridge chided. "I want those things you are carrying."

"Things?" Harry said innocently.

"The ones you are hiding behind your back, Mr. Potter." Umbridge sneered, any trace of her previous false cheeriness vanishing without a trace. "For all I know, you could be smuggling potions out of the Hospital Wing to sell them to your little friends in Gryffindor. Don't waste my time; I want whatever you are hiding right now."

The mysterious woman had told him to not show anyone what she had given him. Though Umbridge couldn't be the him that she had warned him about, he would most likely never get back the mirror and scroll if he handed them over. Umbridge would confiscate them and do everything in her power to keep them from him; at least, she appeared to be that kind of person, given what Hermione had said at the Opening Feast.

"Mr. Potter," Umbridge warned, reaching for her wand.

"Sorry, Professor." Harry smiled genially, holding the scroll and mirror before him. "This is what I was holding."

"A mirror, Mr. Potter? Couldn't go a single night without staring at yourself?" Harry nearly growled in irritation. What had he ever done to her, besides not be convicted of a criminal offense, that gave her such a bad opinion about him. "And what's this? A little late night studying? How astute of you. I can say that I'm quite surprised. Now, I'll just take a look..."

Umbridge swiped the scroll from him, roughly opening it. Her eyebrows rose in surprise as she quickly scanned it.

"What is this, Mr. Po-"

"Obliviate."

The scroll fell from Umbridge's lax fingers, hitting the ground with a thump that seemed to echo in the empty halls. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, and Harry breathed out quietly. He bent down slowly, picking up the scroll and putting it in his back pocket before facing the silent professor.

"You never saw me," Harry instructed, looking away from Umbridge's glazed eyes. "You continued your rounds as normal. You were just on the way back to your office when you stopped for a brief moment."

Umbridge's memories reconfigured, Harry quickly fled, rushing towards Gryffindor with his heart racing, refusing to think about the consequences of what he had just done.


The world was quiet as he walked back to the store. There were people around him, constantly talking and making promises they could not keep; there was the screeching of tires and aggravated horns as people took their frustration out on anonymous targets; there was the ordinary hustle and bustle of a city, but to Doumeki, everything was silent. Even his thoughts did not invade the silence, the silence measured by the rhythm of his breathing, the quite serenity that allowed him to be so level-headed.

It was a familiar form of meditation that his grandfather had taught him. In the day and age in which he lived in, people were so preoccupied to go from place to place, never pausing to wonder where they were going. It was so easy to get lost in the current, let yourself be swept up with no idea of where your destination would be. Taking a second, his grandfather had told him, to put everything in perspective, was one of the simplest and most valuable forms of meditation, one so many people looked over without realizing what they were missing out on.

Doumeki liked to think that he was a fairly easy going person. Or, in place of that, quite open-minded. One couldn't be brought up in a temple and be close-minded and if you somehow managed to do so, then even an hour with Watanuki was more than enough time to dispel and disbelief about the otherworldly. After all, getting eaten by a malevolent spirit would be enough for anyone to believe in their existence.

Being such an open-minded person, Doumeki should not have been surprised by people falling out of the sky. Actually, falling out of the sky might be a bit of a misstatement. It was more as if they appeared in a swirl of radiant colors centered around a complex magical circle. Either description would have worked, for it seemed as if the sky bent down towards the circle, opening up as it touched the ground, depositing its load safely.

Doumeki blinked.

"A perfect landing! Ten out of ten! I deserve a prize!" A chirpy voice said, and Doumeki blinked once more. Mokona?

"You deserve nothing!" A more irate voice this time, followed by the chirpy voice laughing.

"Sorry Mokona, but I think your ten was more of a five." The swirling colors dissipated, leaving behind four figures: a tall brunet, and Doumeki's sharp eyes quickly noticed a white rabbit-thing on his shoulder that looked nearly identical to Mokona, a thin blond man, and a brunet boy who looked about fifteen. An odd group, especially considering their flashy entrance. The blond man was looking at him, a lazy smile on his face and a curious gleam in his eyes. The brunet man was next to notice him, and he reached for something at his waist; was that a sword? The teenager was the most interesting of the lot, if only because he was the only one Doumeki recognized.

"Why are you here?" Doumeki asked the teenager, ignoring the two older man. The blond seemed amused at the casual brush off, but irritation colored the swordsman's face. The Mokona-like figure bounced off of the taller brunet's shoulder and leapt up on Doumeki's, nuzzling him gently.

"We want to see Watanuki," the teenager answered, looking directly into Doumeki's eyes. There was nothing but sincerity and determination in his eyes, and Doumeki was reluctantly impressed.

"Watanuki? Never heard of him." The teenager visibly wilted, but the white Mokona-thing giggled.

"So serious!" Mokona announced. "Mokona can tell you are lying; it's one of Mokona's one-hundred and eight secret skills!"

"You lied?" The tallest man asked rhetorically, a soft sound announcing that he had begun to draw his sword. Doumeki closed his eyes, gathering energy to his fingertips. He did not think that these four were spirits, but he would not just let them walk all over him.

The three paused as they sensed the gathering energy, and the man put away his sword reluctantly.

"Do you know where Watanuki is?" The teenager asked again. Doumeki stayed silent, refusing to answer. He knew nothing about these people save that he had seen the teenager through his shared eye right before Watanuki had declared himself the shop's new owner. Who knows what the young man had said to him to make him choose such a path.

"Hey! We're talking to you!" The swordsman said. Doumeki refused to even look at him. He couldn't sense any malevolent intentions off the quartet, but...

Stop being such an idiot, Doumeki.

Doumeki blinked once more, breaking his stoic facade. He could have sworn that he had just heard Watanuki in his head.

Congratulations, genius, you got it in one. How did you even get into college again? Especially such a prestigious one...

Well, this was interesting. Doumeki ignored the three men who were staring at him curiously and the Mokona-imposter still snuggling into his collar bone, in order to listen to Watanuki's ranting.

I mean, if it wasn't me speaking to you, then you would have voices in your head. Do you often have disembodied voices talking to you? I sincerely hope not.

Doumeki absent-mindedly hoped that Watanuki didn't go off on one of his old shouting-rants; he wouldn't be able to cover his ears in order to block out his screaming.

...I'm in your mind. I can hear what you are thinking, and I am very annoyed right now. No sake for you tonight.

Damn. Now he would only be able to weasel a bottle or two out of him.

I hate you so much, you giant pile of walking idiocy.

Watanuki would hate him even more if he saw some of his more secretive thoughts.

Secretive thoughts? That bears some looking into...

"Um, sir?" The teenager was speaking again. Doumeki refused to hold a conversation both mentally with Watanuki and verbally with this stranger.

You'd be talking with me either way.

Doumeki's forehead creased. Watanuki was being even more mysterious than usual. Had something happened while he was out?

...Nothing happened. Stop worrying about me all the time.

Doumeki concentrated on his thoughts, trying to figure out how to talk with Watanuki directly.

We'll talk when I get back.

No we won't. And bring the three that are staring at you oddly with you, and stop being so suspicious of everything and everyone who asks to meet me. I do run a shop you know; customers are inevitably going to come.

What about the Mokona-thing?

Soel? Bring it too.

Hm.

Even in your mind you use monosyllabic answers. What am I going to do with you...

"Oi," Doumeki said, startling the teen.

"Me?" He asked, pointing to himself.

"Yeah. Come on."

Doumeki turned and started walking back to the shop, trying to ignore the ticklish sensation of Soel's head brushing against his chin. The trio shared a look before starting after him, talking quietly all the while.


"You know, you've been acting really odd lately, Harry," Ron said off-handedly, playing with his breakfast all the while.

"Ron?" Harry asked, watching his friend curiously. The redhead had his head bent, his hair falling into his eyes. Harry could still Mrs. Weasley's worrying over whether Ron would grow his hair out like Bill's. One pony-tailed man was all she could take.

"Like coming back last night. We weren't expecting you back until this morning."

"I couldn't stay there all night; I was too antsy," Harry lied, looking away. Damn, why was he always forced into such uncomfortable situations? It wasn't like he wanted to lie to his best friend after all.

Ron sighed despondently. "Harry, that's... I'd like to think that I know you well enough by now to know that that's not the case. You may complain all the while, but you just wouldn't up and leave the Hospital Wing like you did."

Harry turned back to his friend, startled to see that Ron was looking directly at him. "What do you want me to say, Ron?"

"Something that isn't a lie," Ron replied bluntly, and Harry winced. "If not that, then you don't have to say anything at all. I won't force you to tell me. But if you do need someone to talk to, then I hope you know that I'm always here."

"That's what best friends are for, right?" Harry chuckled, but Ron shook his head.

"No, that's what brothers are for."

Harry stared at Ron, shocked by his friend's declaration.

"You shouldn't be that surprised, Harry. If you're not family by now, then I don't know what you are. Mom's practically adopted you, and she's not the only one. I think we all have by now. Besides, I always did want a younger brother!" Ron grinned, and Harry was suddenly struck with how mature his best friend had grown. He wasn't perfect, but no one really was. He was...

"Four months," Harry said, not looking at Ron.

"Harry?" Ron asked.

"Your only my older brother by four months," Harry scoffed, looking everywhere but Ron's shocked face. "Four months is practically nothing."

Slowly, a smile broke across Ron's face. "Ah, but I'm still older!" He reached an arm across the table, wrenching Harry over to his side.

"Ron! Dammit, my robes!" Harry shouted, trying to vanish the milk and pumpkin juice that were already leaving his clothes uncomfortable wet.

"Now, what's going..."

"...On here?"

Harry groaned, already ready to forget the past five minutes had ever happened. Ron turned to the Twins, his smile shifting into a smirk.

"Our newest little brother just was telling me how happy to have such a wonderful older brother!" Ron boasted, drawing a few amused looks from others sitting nearby.

"No!" The Twins shouting, bending their knees to take Harry's blushing face into their hands. As one they spoke, their voices mournful. "Harry beloved, why do you do this to us? Our pure feelings have turned incestuous. Well, more incestuous anyway."

"...I hate you both so much right now," Harry whispered, face practically luminescent with embarrassment.

"Alas! Alack!" The two cried, swooning. "Our love, so cruelly spurned!"

"Ron!" Harry cried. "Stop them!"

"I don't know if I could even if I wanted to," Ron admitted, looking somewhere between amused and ill.

"There is only one thing we can do now," Fred announced. The Great Hall froze, turning to the beaming Twins as one. Something was about to happen, something that practically reeked of mischief.

"Are you thinking of what I am thinking of?" George asked in a stage whisper.

"Of course, dearest brother!" Fred said, grinning wildly. The two turned to Harry, who gulped in fear. Should he just kill himself now or let the rest of the school have their amusement first?

"Kisses!" The two announced, pouncing on Harry, who let out a very unmanly shriek as messy, slobbery kisses were pressed to his cheeks. Ron choked on laughter beside him, and Harry felt a vindictive pleasure when one of his flailing hands smacked into his supposedly best friend's temple.

Eventually Harry gave up and let the Twins serenade him with cheesy declarations of love, sighing in pain every once in awhile when they used a particularly bad cliché. He'd let them have their fun; after all, he would need their help very soon...


First things first: the pairing will not be Twins/Harry. I'm just using them for amusement and because my demented mind told me to. As said before, the only set pairing is Doumeki/Watanuki. Any other pairings are still up in the air, though I will take suggestions. Who else wants to see Mokona/Fai? ...No one? :(

Now, onto notes!

- Marauder's Map. A useful object created by Harry's father and his three best friends (the Marauders). It is a diagram of Hogwarts, the school of magic Harry attends, that lists the location of everyone who is in the castle at any given time. It is activated with a password, and when inactivated it not only appears to be an ordinary piece of parchment, but it actively resists spells designed to reveal hidden secrets (and apparently even has the capacity to even know who is casting said spells). Truly, this creation is a testament to the Marauders' ingenuity and skill.

- Umbridge (Dolores Umbridge). I realized I was being a little unfair in only describing xxxHoLic characters to the readers; after all, this story might have some xxxHoLic fans who haven't yet read Harry Potter! I won't go into detail about the three main characters (Harry, Ron, and Hermione) only because I assume that they are so well known that even people who haven't read Harry Potter know of them, though if anyone does want a description, feel free to ask! Anyway, Umbridge is basically a giant Bitch with a capital B who, in a single novel, has managed to become generally more hated then the Big Bad. And that's saying something, considering that the Big Bad is a racist mass-murder on par with Hitler. Basically, if anything bad happens to Umbridge, then you can assume that she really deserved it.

- Snape (Severus Snape). Snape, Snape, Severus Snape. If anyone ranks up there with the Golden Trio in terms of popularity (or at least notoriety), it is most likely this surly potions professor. Undoubtedly, this complex character will be showing up during this story.

- "Dammit, how had she known?" Legilimency, a topic that will be discussed in greater detail later on in the story. Or you could just look up what it is online, but that will be spoiling some of the story, and no one does that on the Internet, right?

- Obliviate. Harry Potter Lexicon, I choose you! "Modifies or erases portions of a person's memory." A tad laconic, but it serves its purpose. Also, Harry changing Umbridge's memory around - totally me abusing an author's prerogative to explain the question of how exactly you go about modifying a person's memory.

- Doumeki's granddad. Doumeki Haruka, who was mentioned last chapter. Doumeki is quite similar to his grandfather, though Haruka says that he smiles more than his grandson, and looks up to him a great deal. Oftentimes, Doumeki's largest speaking roles are centered around things his grandfather had taught him.

- The Falling-from-the-sky group. The TRC group, who were alluded to a few times earlier. They are (in order of description): Kurogane, one of the Mokonas (Soel, to be specific), Fai (who got a whole author's note to himself last chapter), and Tsubasa/Syaoran. For all those who are wondering where Sakura is, then I shall point you to the latest (and by latest, I mean final) chapter of TRC. Individual notes for each will come throughout the story whenever I feel they are necessary. As always though, any questions asked will be answered to the best of my abilities.

- Mokona's one-hundred and eight secret skills! Soel mentioned numerous times throughout TRC that it has one-hundred and eight secret skills (or some variation of that name).Some of these super secretive skills have been: voice imitation, being a living translator (anyone who is in Mokona's general vicinity is able to understand one another), acting, breaking in, traveling between worlds, understanding lonely people, drawing capabilities, flirting, singing, teasing, communicating between worlds (and the Mokona can communicate with each other while dreaming and can act as 'telephones' as shown in the xxxHoLic Kei Drama CD and in 'Soel to Larg: Mokona=Modoki no Bouken' as well), writing in kanji, super strength, super transformation, immunity to bad luck, knowing when someone is sad, super deductive reasoning, and so much more. Soel is quite the skilled Mokona!

- "...he had seen the teenager through his shared eye..." Doumeki is being quite literal here. For the actual instance, see chapter 184. pages 9-10.

- "...gathering energy to his fingertips." Surely it's not too ridiculous of a guess to believe that Doumeki's mastery over wielding spiritual energy has increased over the years, no?

- Doumeki's hearing voices. Voices that are in his head. As mentioned above, the Mokonas can be used almost like telephones. Yuuko also exhibited the power to speak through Maru and Moro to Watanuki (because she created them) and to speak to characters in different worlds through pools of water. Watanuki and Doumeki can occasionally see out of each other's shared eye. Telepathy shouldn't be anything to outrageous compared to these feats.

- "Like coming back last night. We weren't expecting you back until this morning." Time shift! Just so no one got lost. Also, a little note to say that Harry managed to make it back to Gryffindor safely. I wonder if the rest of his journey back was unhindered though...

- Four months. Harry's birthday is July thirty-first while Ron's is March first which means the difference is more like five months, but Harry would never admit that. Also, as an interesting side note, Harry is the youngest of the Golden Trio.

- The Twins (Fred and George Weasley). Two of Ron's older brothers, the Twins are a mischievous duo of pranksters that are the worthies of successors to the Marauders' fame. They were the ones who gave Harry the Marauder's Map in his third year and they reluctantly took one-thousand galleons from Harry at the end of his forth year. Although they left Hogwarts before their graduation, who knows what's going to happen to the two in this story?

- Mokona/Fai. OTP, yo. The Mokona/Kurogane fangirls will never win!

A big thank you to everyone who has reviewed, added this story to their favorite stories list or their story alert list, or made Inexorable Inevitability part of their C2s. You guys rock!

That's it, I'm done, until next time folks!

Ariaeris~