Hi, sorry this took so long to upload. =[ But after this chapter, I won't have to skip around so much--I warn you, this'll be a long series. Though next one'll be longer, probably. o.O Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnyway. R&R. And Hiko has a part in this! yay!
Chapter Seven
The three boys sat still, trying not to look at each other in case they laughed, as their friend introduced spew—or S.P.E.W. as she put it. So that's what she'd been working on for all these times in the library. Except for this time, according to Kenshin. Harry glanced at him as saw that he was fidgeting, probably blocking her out. Lucky.
Hermione beamed at them after she finished her very long explanation. Harry was slightly exasperated at her. There was a silence. It was broken, though, but a soft sound coming from across the room. Tap, tap, on the window. Illuminated in the moonlight, shining from all her white feathers, was Hedwig perched on the sill.
"Hedwig!" he yelled, happy at both seeing the owl and the welcome means of changing the subject. She flew in the moment the window was opened, landing on top of Harry's Divination homework. "About time!"
"She's got an answer!" Ron pointed to a messy piece of paper tied to Hedwig's leg.
Harry quickly untied the letter and sat down to read it. Hedwig landed on his knee.
"What does it say?" Hermione asked. The letter was short. Harry read aloud:
Harry—
I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore—they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is.
I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron, Hermione, and the new boy who you might not have told about me. I don't mind if you do, he's trustworthy, Dumbledore says. Keep your eyes open, Harry.
Sirius
It felt like someone decided it would be fun to treat his insides like balloon animals and twist them. He was…this was horrible. What an idiot!
"He's flying north," Hermione said, eyes wide. "He's coming back?"
"Dumbledore's reading the signs?" said Ron. "Harry—what's up?"
In aggravation, Harry hit himself in the forehead. Hedwig flew out of his lap. This was terrible, so terrible, and it was all his fault.
"I shouldn't've told him!"
"What are you one about?" said Ron, surprised.
"I've made him think he's got to come back! Coming back, because he thinks I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me! And I haven't got anything for you." He looked to Hedwig, angry. "You'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food." Hedwig flew off, offended, hitting him in the head with her wing.
There was a momentary lull, where Harry sat fuming. Then his moment of self-anger was broken as Kenshin asked, "Um, who's Sirius?"
An awkward feeling fell over the four of them. Harry had completely forgotten that he was there, and apparently the others had too. Glancing down at the letter again, he read the last part again. Well, Sirius said he should, but did he really want to? Then again, they were friends and didn't plan on dropping the kid to find new ones, especially since they (or at least Harry, Ron, and Hermione's side) genuinely liked each other. It didn't help that he was socially inept.
So the three of them told him. They told the whole story. It took about an hour—probably about twenty minutes more than it should have, but they used words that he didn't understand at times, so they needed to explain it to him. Like explaining dementors. That was trickier than it should have been.
There was silence when the story ended. Whatever the redhead was thinking, Harry couldn't tell. His face was completely unreadable, like usual. He would've been good at poker, if he ever played. Hermione kept glancing at him. In the end, he just shrugged.
"Well, I can see why you don't him to come back," he said. "No reason to have an innocent person caught, right?"
Harry nodded and noticed that Hermione still kept looking at Kenshin every few seconds. Either he was completely oblivious, or just ignoring her. Finally, she nudged him. He looked up. A look was exchanged, then Kenshin sighed. It was very confusing to watch.
"Fine," he said after he sighed. "I get it, information for information. I agree with you. Just…you tell them."
"Whatever happened to wanting to tell them yourself?" Hermione said, increasing his confusion. He looked to Ron for an answer, but his friend just shrugged, equally mystified.
"You're English is better."
Hermione looked at him skeptically. He just stared back blankly. After a moment or so of this, Hermione finally relented. "Finally. Sorry for pushing you into this literally two hours afterwards."
An answer didn't come right away. Then he simply said, "It's fine. The common room's empty anyway."
With a smile, Hermione turned to the other boys.
"Our friend here is the Battousai, the famous Japanese assassin," she said cheerfully, as if this was just the most normal thing in the world. Harry was shocked, though looking back, Moody basically told he, Ron, and Hermione. Even so…wow, to think Kenshin was the famous killer. Ron next to him just looked slightly confused. "But he has promised to never kill anyone ever again. Malfoy figured out because he killed his friend's fifth step-father. Kenshin told me earlier. Oh, and before you ask, he really is fourteen."
Harry sputtered before finally finding his voice. "But then you would've been ten! And-and-what? Wait, then how are you a wizard?" Kenshin winced.
"Yes, I was ten," he said, voice so quiet Harry could barely hear him. "The revolution stopped in May. Dumbledore found me in June. The confusion with the schools was true. They couldn't find me…made sense. When I was eleven I was killing politicians by the hundreds." He smiled, but it was bitter, humorless. This was like a mental overload right now. "But don't worry. I didn't like it back then and I won't continue now. No more killing for Hitokiri Battousai. Japan's sure happy about that."
Silence. Dead silence. Harry thought that there was silence before, when he was done telling about Sirius, but it was nothing compared to this. Kenshin was looking away, trying not to make eye contact. And at all costs, that was obvious. Ron was trying to process what was going on. Hermione just looked worried and Harry was stuck wondering how that was possible. Though he didn't watch the news much back the Dursleys, Dudley and his gang loved hearing about the 'Legendary Battousai'. Now, what would Dudley think if he found out Harry was friends with him, another fourteen-year-old?
"Well," he said, breaking the silence. "I guess we'll just have to keep this between us." Kenshin looked up, surprised. "Everyone has their secrets. So let's just keep this between the four of us."
Ron finally recovered. "Yeah, we aren't just going to keep you away from us. You're fine now right?"
Hermione's smile lit up her face again. "And see, they didn't scream?"
For the first time, Harry heard Kenshin laugh. It suited him.
-------
Hiko was practicing with his katana when the owl came. It was the first owl he'd gotten and it was already almost the end of October. Was his student really that afraid the he was hated here? No, as much as tried to at one point, he could never hate the boy. Perhaps he even blamed himself. He should have stopped him, not gotten angry and allowed him to leave. But that was all in the past. The present was the owl sitting by expectantly as he read the letter.
Master,
You don't need to reply to this if you don't want. I'll actually be surprised if you read it, after what I said, but I thought I should write this anyway.
The school is fine, even if it's strange. The classes are hard and I have trouble understanding the teachers sometimes, but my friend Hermione is helping me. Yeah, I made a friend. Three in fact. I didn't expect it either. But they're the ones I spent the summer with. All the teachers seem a little afraid of me, but not so much anymore. I think they're starting to realize that I was telling the truth when I said I wouldn't kill anyone else. And I won't, I swear.
There's this one teacher, though, who seems to really distrust me. First time he met me was right after he turned this one boy into a ferret (long story, but it's funny, if you write back I'll tell you) and turned him back. When he passed me, he told me to watch myself and would've said more if another teacher didn't stop him. Then the first day of class, he indirectly asked me if I tortured people, which I didn't, but you know that. Today he put this curse on each of us to tell us what to do and it forced us to do it (I can't think of a better way to describe it, think hypnosis to the extreme), but completely skipped over me. I'm slightly happy that he didn't, but even so, the rest of the class is trying to figure out why. Not even I'm sure.
The friends I was telling you about know about my, well, past. I don't feel like getting into how. They said don't care. I just hope they mean it.
My cheek hasn't bled since that last day I spent in Japan. I'm not sure how I'll explain it if it does bleed again. I've had about a thousand people ask me how I got it. At least I can get away by saying I don't want to talk about it. The headaches are still there, though. Not as bad as after I fought someone, but still there. You'd think I'd be used to pain, right? Maybe not from others, but definitely from you. I'll probably never win.
Anyway, I hope everything in Japan is going okay. I don't exactly hear the news at Hogwarts. It feels weird being half way across the world. I miss Japan, but I guess it's good to get away.
If you read this, I have a favor to ask you and I would appreciate if you did it. I would rather you do this than write me back, in all honesty. Can you go down to Kyoto and buy irises to put on Tomoe's grave? She's in the cemetery. Her name's under Himura Tomoe. If I were there, I'd do it myself. Sorry to ask this of you.
—Kenshin
Hiko said. Would this kid ever stop apologizing? Probably not. And he was an idiot to think he wouldn't read it. Kenshin was certainly going to be surprised when this owl came flying back to him.
His eyes scanned the letter again and his eyes caught the words, I'll probably never win. That little fool. If only he realized that Hiko had to stop him every time. And it wouldn't be a question of just winning, but also killing. Yes, he would admit it: Kenshin could kill him. The close match between their skills and his apprentice's willingness to be kicked aside in hopes of stopping himself were the only things that kept him from winning. If it didn't take so long…
A dawning realization fell over Hiko. The words of his apprentice echoed through his head, the last words he'd spoken before he'd left for England:
But at the same time, some sick, twisted part of me actually like it. And when I got bored, I dragged the fight out and toyed with them!
The letter feel from Hiko's hand, landing in the grass. The owl hooted softly, sounding almost curious. And when I got bored, I dragged the fight out and toyed with them! Did that mean…? Surely not! But no, it made sense. It always seemed strange that Kenshin could have killed him within short few minutes, but it always lasted longer, until there was finally an opening for Hiko to shout at him to stop. But now it was obvious—he was just being toyed with! If he weren't, then he would be dead already and the kid didn't even realize that was possible.
I might be off in the head, but I'm not an idiot.
No, he was both, and Hiko only realized one.
I'll probably never win.
It's strange that he hadn't.
And when I got bored, I dragged the fight out and toyed with them!
He dragged out spars too, apparently.
That's one of the lamest excuses I've ever heard.
Yes, yes it was.
But at the same time, some sick, twisted part of my actually liked it.
That's because it was his mind's way of protecting him until now.
And when I got bored, I dragged the fight out and toyed with them!
This was scary. Very, very scary indeed.
Now all he could do was hope that a new life would heal that kid, because he needed it. Oh, hell, he needed it. And he knew it.
-----
All of the Hogwarts students all filed down to the entrance hall, where the Heads of Houses were ordering them into lines.
"Weasley, straighten your hat," said Professor McGonagall to Ron. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair."
The girl scowled and removed a large butterfly from the end of her braid. McGonagall was being even more strict was normal. It wasn't until now that Kenshin thought that possible. She was a drill sergeant in class.
"Follow me, please," she said. "First years to the front…no pushing…"
The school walked down the front steps to line up in front of the castle. The air was chilly. Kenshin hugged himself as he stood between Hermione and Lavender Brown.
"Nearly six," Ron said. Kenshin looked down the lane that led to the front gate. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"
"I doubt it," said Hermione.
"How, then?" said Harry. "Broomsticks?"
"I don't think so…" said Hermione. "Not from this far away…"
Kenshin stayed silent, not able to put in any suggestions at all—it wasn't like he knew any other forms of magical transportation, except for the Floo Network, and he doubted they would use that, because there would be no reason to be outside if they were. They other schools probably wanted a dramatic entrance.
"A Portkey?" said Ron. "Or they could Apparate—maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?"
"You can Apparate inside Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you that?" Hermione rolled her eyes. Kenshin looked over.
"You can't?" he asked. "Why not?"
Hermione answered, "It's part of the protection on the castle. It's very well protected, after all. It's near impossible to get past the protect. The only plausible way would be to find something that could work from the inside—though that's highly unlikely. I don't think such a thing exists."
Suddenly, Dumbledore called out form his place in the back row, "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegates from Beauxbatons approaches!"
"Where?" many of the students said.
"There!" shouted someone Kenshin didn't recognize, pointing to the forest.
Whatever the Beauxbatons students were using to arrive was huge and steadily growing larger as it flew closer.
"It's a dragon!" yelled a first year, causing Kenshin to want to his him head against something. Oh, the stupidity. Why would someone ride a dragon? That wouldn't be safe in the slightest.
"Don't be stupid," said another first year who he believed was called something Creevey, though he wasn't sure. "It's a flying house!"
Though this was equally far-fetched, it was closer than a dragon. As it grew nearer, it become obvious that it was a carriage being pulled by winged horses the size of...size of….size of something large. The front row of students stepped back as the carriage landed. Neville jumped, as well as a few others. The horses were huge.
But the surprise at their size was dimmed by the surprise of the size of the woman who emerged. The only other person in the world who had height like that was Hagrid, Harry's friend and the Care of Magical Creatures professor (who was nicer than expected, since his class was so scary). In a strange way, she pulled off her size though, probably because she stood with pride, like it didn't bother her. Dumbledore began to clap and the rest of the school joined in. When she came forward, face in a relaxed smile, the headmaster barely needed to bend to kiss her hand.
"My dear Madame Maxime," said Dumbledore and Kenshin remembered hearing her name at the World Cup, from those French teenagers. "Welcome to Hogwarts."
"Dumbly-dorr," she answered in a deep voice, accent as obvious as his, possibly worse. "I 'ope I find you well?"
"In excellent form, thank you." The Beauxbatons students stood in their headmistress' shadow, shivering as they stared up at the castle.
"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, motioning to her small crowd of students. "'as Karkaroff arrived yet?"
"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore, smiling. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"
Kenshin turned to Hermione, his excellent language teacher. "What does trifle mean?" he asked.
"A little," she answered as Madame Maxime said, "Warm up, I think. But ze 'orses—"
"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Dumbledore. "The moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other—er—charges."
"Skrewts," said Ron. The other three grinned. Those things were so creepy. First day of class, Kenshin had gotten a burn on his arm, one that actually scared over. They did more damage to him than most of his victims.
"My steeds require—er—a forceful 'andaling," said Madame Maxime, doubtful. "Zey are very strong…"
"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job." Yeah, if he could handle skrewts, he could probably deal with anything.
"Very well." The enormous woman bowed slightly. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?" Horses that fed off of only alcohol…interesting.
"It will be attended to."
"Come." Madame Maxime and her students walked, the Hogwarts crowd parting to let them pass, into the warmth of the building. Lucky them. He was freezing.
"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" said Seamus Finnigan.
"Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," Harry said. Kenshin had to agree. "That's if he hasn't been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?"
"Maybe they've escaped," said Ron.
"Oh, don't say that." Hermione shuddered. "Imagine that lot loose on the grounds…"
"And our next assignment would probably be to catch them," said Kenshin, preferring not to picture that torturous event.
Waiting for the Durmstrang students for so long was causing Kenshin's shivering to increase. Cold, so unbelievably cold. Around this time in Japan, the temperature, while not quite being warm, was still comfortable, even at night.
"Can you hear something?" said Ron as a muffled sucking sound drifted through the night.
"The lake!" shouted Lee Jordan, pointing. "Look at the lake!"
What had been a flat surface of water only moments before was now something more akin to an ocean, with large waves splashing against the shore and then a whirlpool appeared. What the hell?
Something long was black, like a pole, was rising out from the middle. It was a—
"It's a mast!" Harry said, turning to the other three.
A ship rose out of the water, glistening from the moonlight. When it had emerged entirely, it drifted towards the shore, where it docked itself. Then came the splash of an anchor and people exited, just shadows from the light pouring behind them. At first, they all seemed large, but as they drew closer, Kenshin realized they were wearing large, furry looking cloaks. The man who was leading them was wearing a cloak made of sleek furs, unlike the shaggy ones worn by his students. His hair was as white as Dumbledore's, but it was shorter and he supported a goatee instead of a beard. On his face he wore a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, much like Kenshin, though in a different way. It more looked like the smile was just faked instead of a smile that looked like it shouldn't exist at all.
"Dumbledore!" he called out as he walked up the small hill, that same fake smile still there. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," said Dumbledore. Kenshin leaned to Hermione.
"What does—"
"Blooming means good, I suppose, no better way to describe it," she answered. "It's not a word normally used, unless referring to flowers."
He nodded as Karkaroff said, "Dear old Hogwarts." He looked up at the castle. "How good it is to be here, how good…Viktor, come along, into the warmth…you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…"
Karkaroff motioned for one of his students to come closer. As he passed, Ron whispered, "Harry—it's Krum!" They began to file back into the castle, but Ron wasn't finished yet. "I don't believe it! Krum, Harry, Viktor Krum!"
"We know," Kenshin said, starting to feel a little tired for some reason.
"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," said Hermione impatient.
"Only a Quidditch player?" he went on, staring at the two of the incredulously. "Guys—he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"
Kenshin held up his hands, trying to avoid a rant. "Hey, sorry, keep in mind I don't know much about it. The game was amazing, but I still don't understand the fascination since I don't know much. I probably will soon, though."
In response, he earned google eyes.
"Wow…you just said a lot."
"Um." An awkward statement.
As they passed, they saw a bunch of sixth year girls searching their pockets as they headed to the Great Hall, all talking at once.
"Oh, I don't believe it, I don't have a single quill on me—"
"D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"
"Really," said Hermione, exasperated.
Couldn't they just wait until they actual had a writing utensil before asking? Lipstick rubbed off.
"I'm get his autograph if I can. You haven't got a quill, have you, Harry?" Ron said. "Or you?" he added to Kenshin. He shook his head.
"Nope," said Harry. "They're upstairs in my bag."
Ron groaned.
