Ugh, that's it, sometimes I really hate life and the education system.
Actually, I'm not going to do sequels to this story. Guardian will be it. No later years. Instead, I'll be working on Sidekick as a complementary series to the Guardian-verse.
Hm, if you don't want to read review replies/spoilers, skip the rest of the bolded stuff and head straight to the story.
In response to some of the latest guest reviews: whoa, you guys are enthusiastic. Uh, one major point that apparently I never got around to telling: everything post-time skip didn't happen for Hogwart's Ichigo. And stuff pre-time skip aren't even the same, concerning the end. So the Fullbringer and Quincy business didn't happen and a lot of the new information from those arcs are up for debate. While I can try to do romance, I specialize in non-romantic, friendship kind of relations and angst…I promise, I will try to include some of your points and ships, but some stuff just isn't going to happen because of circumstances in the story. Suggestions are still listened to.
Disclaimer: Why do I do this…I own nothing so you have no right to sue me.
If Ichigo was going to be honest with himself, he would slap himself across the face and head back right now. Unfortunately, despite his age, some of his teenage perverseness still clung on tenaciously. So, even though Ichigo knew this was absolutely stupid, he kept climbing down the steps. God, he hated it when his room decided to relocate itself.
Finally making his way to one of the exits, Ichigo slipped out of the building and into the mid-October dusk. He should turn around now, he really should. It's been years and decades and centuries. He should go back.
He didn't.
Fall and winter were never fun for Ichigo. Actually, so were some days in summer. And early spring also sucked. Well, fine, there were days all throughout the year that sucked. Being very hard to kill and practically immortal wasn't fun in that way. Too many anniversaries of deaths that accumulated through the years.
The only thing that Ichigo could or wanted to remember from his family's death was that the leaves were starting to fall. Karin had always loved fall, it was a time to play soccer, when the weather was nice, not too hot or too cold, and the days still had relatively long hours. Yuzu also enjoyed the sales when shopping for their little family.
Other people that Ichigo had grown close to in his life with the English had met their end within the month.
Ichigo resented the memories when he looked at the forest as it blazed it new autumn dress. It reminded him of his failures too much; how his sisters died and then a year later, how many of his friends also fell. And how the skies burned was the worlds died, people and creatures screaming in fear as their deaths came. The trees looked like fire and blood.
He hated standing helplessly by a sick friend's bed, or of to the side as the humans aged and died. He hated sitting alone in his room, knowing that children he had taught for years were out at war and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Yet he had to keep going, memories unblemished. Memories of happy times and hard times and graves.
He kept walking, almost at the edge of Hogwart's property.
He wasn't sure when the pub in Cardiff was built. Nor was he certain why he started going there. Or how he heard of it. But it served good drinks and despite the nature of most pubs, was a relatively clean and lively place. Good for washing away some of the pain. Although Ichigo was always careful not to drink too much and get drunk, Eien and Zangetsu would string him up by his toes. He still remembered how much Godric had laughed.
Finally, Ichigo passed Hogwart's borders. He apparated away.
He popped into existence on a rooftop, away from any security cameras that might be watching. Flash stepping to the ground, he walked into the crowds of people milling about and headed to the pub.
While he wasn't a regular, the bartender still recognized him. After all, if one kept coming back sporadically throughout the year, for years on end but never seem to age, one become memorable. The hair might also had helped, Ichigo only met one other person decades ago in present day Germany that had a similar shade. (That guy would have some interesting kids, come to think about it, he did seem a bit kooky to Ichigo when they met.)
"Good evening sir."
"Hm," Ichigo slipped into a seat, "same as usual please."
"Coming right up sir."
A few minutes later, Ichigo took the drink and ignored everyone around him, only focusing on trying to rid himself of this stupid funk. Although a drunken man did end up trying to pick a fight with him a while later, a sharp wack on the head with the now empty bottle quieted him quite nicely. After that, Ichigo bought another bottle, thanked the bartender, and left. It would be bad if something happened to the castle while he was away. Goodness knows what could have happened.
Besides, someone at the castle might want a drink. Halloween was coming soon. Perhaps he ought to give Severus the alcohol. Man might need it. He never did completely recover.
October was a bad month.
"Ugh, look at that. I knew the twins could be bad but still, that is crazy."
Harry on the other hand, was laughing in disbelief. He was laughing so hard in fact, he was gasping for breath. Had this been Privet Drive, such an event would have been unheard of and catastrophic. This being Hogwarts though, Harry didn't care at all. Oh those two were good. How thirteen year olds could think of something like that, Harry didn't know, but it was good.
Filch looked ready to commit murder on the other hand.
One Saturday in late October, Hogwarts woke up to see paint splattered across various hallways, mainly where many students traversed, such as the Great Hall. To make everything better, when people tried to clean off the paint, the splotches of color rearranged themselves into messages of varying degrees of snarkiness and profanity and pointly refused to leave the walls. It made breakfast an interesting affair to say the least.
Dean was also chuckling. "I knew I should have brought a camera. And how do you know that your brothers did this?"
Ron looked at him evenly. "No one else could be able to do something this big. The main question is how come Ichigo wasn't able to catch them in the act."
It was a good question; a question that Harry never learned the answer to.
After breakfast – some juice, a few rolls, and some sausages – Harry visited the library. There was an interesting section on fiction with many interesting novels. Every now and then, Harry also stumbled upon some Muggle classics but most of the books were stories Harry had never heard of before. Ron helped point out some of his favorites as well.
Since the boys really didn't care all that much about homework, and, thankfully, there weren't many tests this coming week, and, honestly, it was the weekend, Harry and Ron found some comfortable armchairs by a fireplace and read some books. After all, might as well make yourself comfortable during the weekends.
The castle was relatively quiet today; many of the older students had left to go to Hogsmeade. The first years and second years practically had free reign over the castle's common areas save for some of the study rooms that the upperclassmen not visiting Hogsmeade had claimed. Those room normally had a few explosions every now and then. After a day or two, you learned to take it into stride. Wizards were just loony that way.
It was very nice.
Truth be told, it really hadn't taken the staff all that long to decorate the castle for Halloween. Although considering that they somehow got it done between classes in just one afternoon, it was impressive. Really though, you had to hand it them, even if they had to been doing this every year for a long time and getting lots of practice. Harry reasoned that some of the student helped.
And the food was brilliant as usual. Well, more so than usual, it was a holiday and the pies where very good. Dudley would be jealous if he could see what Harry was eating (and momentarily forget his fear of all things wizard). Although from what Harry could tell, Wizards normally ate more nicely than Muggles did, so perhaps that also played a role.
Well, if Halloween was like this, then Christmas must be quite the sight to behold, Harry bemused. All the more reason to love being at Hogwarts and stay over the holiday if he could.
Class today had felt shorter and more relaxed. For the most part. Ron's incident in charms class – Harry after some thought settled with blunder – had put some undue stress on that would have been a wonderful day for Harry. It was going to be the first holiday he could remember that would be both Dursley free and joyful. Something that kept his spirits up for days, even with all the homework and Quidditch he had to attend to.
(A few older students who overheard someone in Harry's year complain about the ever growing about of work out of class laughed at them and told them to be happy with what they had now before the "mountains" really did turn into mountains. It was disheartening. Besides, how did the teachers get around to grading all the stuff?)
Classes ended and there was time before the feast. Deciding that it would be best to have some fun in the common room, Ron and Harry left their bags on their beds and scurried back down the stairs.
Ron's bothers, Fred and George, had set up a tournament of Exploding Snap, and their friends started setting up bets on who could win the card game. Meanwhile, their other brother sat at a table by himself, surrounded by books and papers, working away. Personally, Harry found that the elder teenager was probably starting to go mad, doing homework on a holiday with a feast to look forward to in the evening.
Weird.
Before the fireplace, several upperclassmen girls chatted between themselves. While Harry couldn't hear the full conversation, from the snatches he caught, he didn't want to know. There weren't many conversations that he could think of that would involve pulling out nails and veins, and muffling screams.
Glancing about, he could see the Quidditch team talking away. He waved, they waved back, and Ron called for his attention again.
"Harry, you want to play something?"
"Sure, what do you want to play?"
"How about-"
Whatever Ron was about to say was cut off by a particularly large bang and a shout from the twins.
"I'm sorry what?"
Harry couldn't help but feel that the common room wasn't as full as it should have been.
"Well, I was about to ask you if you wanted to play a game of chess, but I just looked at the clock. It's almost time to go downstairs for the feast."
Already, some of the upperclassmen had wandered out of the portrait hole. Couples slip out together, bands of friends clamber out, all aiming to claim a section of the table for themselves. The girls at the fireplace stood up from the plush and worn armchairs and left as well, straitening their skirts and shirts. Fred and George packed up the cards with a few well practiced flicks, a skill probably gained from magically throwing random objects across classrooms.
"You coming?" Neville asked.
"Yeah."
Harry and Ron stood up and left with the other Gryffindor first year boys. As they approached the Great Hall, the halls became increasingly crowded. Soon it was difficult to walk at any pace without touching anyone, much less without accidentally stepping on someone's foot. Yet somehow, the bottlenecked, shuffling throng made it to their tables, sitting down and propping feet on other spots, saving room for late friends lost in the halls.
While they were stumbling their way down stairs and around much taller upperclassmen, Harry and Ron happened to glimpse of Parvati telling Lavender that Hermione was crying in a girl's bathroom. Glancing at each other, an uneasy expression flickered onto Ron's face. Then they were pushed into the Great Hall.
A few girls squealed at the bats, some other of shock, some out of adoration. Pumpkins swooped, candles inside flickering, some even crackled. The High Table was missing a few people.
"No, Albus, I'll deal with the Minister. It's Halloween, you need to be there at the feast. Besides, you know I might be able to snag a drink at the same time."
The aged human, still so much younger than Ichigo, frowned in concern. He knew Ichigo's attitude during October and days before and after the month. All the staff did. Unfortunately for them, there was nothing they could do to dissuade the man from his habits.
Ichigo recognized the headminister's expression. "Look, I'm serious. I know how to handle this, and I'll be back in time for the end of the feast. You take care of the students, I'll take care of the Minister of Magic.
"Besides," aw man, he really didn't want to say these next few words, "nothing's going to go wrong in only a few hours. And I'll be in London. You can shoot me a message if something does arise."
Albus sighed.
"I hope you know what you're going to be doing."
Ichigo grinned. "Trust me. I know how to handle children."
Sensing that it would not be a good time to have a short debate, Albus ceded.
"On one condition," Ichigo listened to what his boss had to say. "If you're wrong, then you owe me more lemon drops."
"And if I'm right?"
"I'll give you some of those chocolate sweets you enjoy so much."
Ichigo chuckled. "Well then, everything seems to be pretty sweet then. I'll see you later."
He left the room, door closing with a click behind him, walked down the stairs and out of the castle. It was time to help the new Minister of Magic to finally start settling down completely. It wouldn't do for him to keep relying on a headminister for advice all the time.
Metal taps flew into the air, knocked out of stone walls by the troll's club that might as well have been the strong limb of an oak tree, worn from use and abuse. Harry's heart was beating in his throat, through his arms, in his gut, everywhere. Adrenaline numbed his fingertips and threw everything into confusing focus. Ron was scurrying and shouting, putting years of living with a large and rambunctious family to use. Hermione looked like she was going to go into shock. Probably was already in shock, she was frozen, not even able to scream anymore.
Ron played distraction. Still in a state of buzzed autopilot, Harry somehow scaled the whole eleven and a half some feet jump from floor to brutish neck, arms wrapped around the horribly smelly skin, left hand knocking into teeth momentarily, right hand slamming somewhere higher. Perhaps he used some accidental magic like when he suddenly ended up on the roof while running from Dudley years ago.
The troll roared in pain from the wand up his nose, and Harry had a nice and personal experience of said roar. His ears rung, and he almost missed it when Ron, in a spur of the moment state of panic, perfectly executed the levitation spell that had gotten them into this whole mess in the first place.
A crack and Harry hastily used his momentum to swing out of the way of the falling body, extracting his wand at the same time. Had the sinks not been efficiently ruined, he would have washed it. A wipe on the also dirty clothing of the troll would have to suffice. Hermione started to open her mouth to finally say something, but -
The bathroom door pretty much exploded off the wall.
Harry's adrenaline was starting to cool off, and started to wish it didn't. Ron gulped, wand still in the air. Hermione didn't speak.
Harry didn't think he had ever seen Ichigo so angry before. Or Professor McGonagall for that matter.
Maybe they could win fifty points, something in his brain piped off, probably the part still high on adrenaline.
What.
"Well."
Ichigo's voice was low, but angry. Gold was starting to tint his irises. A memory of a crackling albino with gold eyes flashed through Harry's mind. Snape walked in. Professor Quirrell sank down onto a toilet.
Ichigo knew he shouldn't have said that sentence a few hours ago. It was asking for Fate to mock him, and Fate always loved to use those opportunities. Although, granted, he had been thinking more along the lines of crap happening because of Ravenclaw experiments and the Weasley twins. Not a troll of this size somehow making it into the castle and into a girl's bathroom, yet not running into other students doing…things. Hey, once he found out that some students were breeding frogs in the dungeons when he realized that not all the students were at a holiday feast.
Looks like he owes Albus candies now.
"What on Earth were you thinking of? You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"
Severus sent the Potter boy a sharp glare, but Ichigo was more concerned by his leg. Had the man worn anything other than black, the blood would be noticeable. The sooner that bite was taken care off, the better.
Now Mrs. Granger was talking, and clearly lying at that. Ichigo knew that Minerva knew it was a lie, she had seen many lies over the course of teaching students of all ages for years.
Whatever. Ichigo glared at the students still, and then joined Severus by the unconscious troll. A large club was near its head. How three first-years were able to knock out a twelve-foot troll would be an interesting story to hear, just not one for the moment. How it entered the castle in the first place was a more important question. The castle had barriers and shields to keep this kind of thing from happening. The only way a troll could have gotten in would have been if someone inside the school brought it in.
Oh, Quirinus, the size of the hole you were digging yourself into.
Like the other teachers*, Ichigo knew what protections were being put into place below the castle. He himself had a put up a defense. And speaking of which, why was Quirinus acting in the first place? Something was very wrong with this picture. Albus would have to know. Ichigo decided that he could swing by after he retrieved candy from Hogsmeade.
Minerva sent the students away. They scurried off, in a hurry to leave.
"Severus," Ichigo glanced down at him, "go to the hospital wing, now."
He was still angry from the troll getting in and Severus decided that getting the hell out of dodge would be a great idea. He also hurried off.
"Now then," Minerva huffed. She transfigured the troll into a rat. She picked it up and left.
Ichigo glared at the still sitting Quirinus; then left as well.
He didn't miss the key laying on the downed door.
If it hadn't been for Hermione, Harry was sure that he would have been in trouble with several teachers by now for not completing his homework. Wood was starting to book more time for Quidditch practices and now that November had set in, the teachers were assigning more homework and projects. He wasn't even sure how some of the other students found time to run or attend the various clubs. Heck, some upperclassmen even worked in labs. Although, it might explain why the common room wouldn't be clear of people until far past midnight. The upperclassmen didn't sleep much on weekdays, they just stayed in bed all day on the weekends.
Regardless, Harry shoved those matters off the side, he would worry about them when he was older. What mattered was that there was all this work to do, and even with Hermione's help proofreading, he and Ron were still swimming in a growing pile of homework. He wondered how Hermione ever got it done in the first place.
Hermione spent a lot of time in the library, instead of the study hall classrooms that many others used. Harry didn't question why, it didn't matter to him where she liked to work.
They started eating meals together, other first-years watching interested for a while, and then going back to their own discussions. They were all chill.
After one afternoon at the library, Hermione lent Harry Quidditch Through the Ages, an interesting read that Harry read before going to bed at night and in his free time.
Speaking of Quidditch, Harry's first game was fast approaching and – somehow – the student body heard the news and making Harry even more nervous with their statements, positive and negative. He really didn't know how to deal with this kind of attention well, having spent all his life shunned and put off to the side. Wood and the rest of the team assured him that he would be okay, and that there was no way something horrible would happen to him, and that everything would be fine.
Harry hoped everything would be fine.
Ichigo had mixed feelings about the Mirror of Erised. Desire. Ichigo had lots. It was nice to see the old faces of people lost to time and war again. But every time he even glanced at the ornate mirror, he was troubled by the nature of the magic pounded into the glass.
It reminded him too much of the Hogyoku's powers.
At the very least, it was a comfort that the Mirror couldn't manifest wishes. It would be even better if Ichigo was also able to do the same to the Hogyoku, rather than just locking it away.
The Mirror of Erised arrived at night, when the students were in their dormitories since curfew was in effect. Ichigo went out to the front door with Albus. Together, they thanked the wizards being it to them. Wrapped up and padded, they floated it down the tall stone halls and into an unused classroom.
As they set it down, Albus remarked, "Well, that'll be it for now. I'll have to work on placing the Stone into the Mirror, but it will take time. Think you can keep the students out of this room till I finish?"
Ichigo shrugged. "I suppose so. But do keep it quiet from Quirinus. I don't trust him, something about him is rubbing me the wrong way."
"I'll keep an eye on him."
*Actually, Ichigo was wrong…shrugs.
Screw it, if Rowling can use time skips, left and right, so can I. We finally made it to Halloween and November!
(I don't know why I always refer to the humans as children when writing from Ichigo's POV. Maybe it's because Yamamoto always does that to the younger characters.)
It's disappointing to me that the upperclassmen rarely ever get mentioned as a whole, not just a few named characters. Because – I hadn't realized this until I started school this month – upperclassmen are effing weird at times. That weirdness is only really noticeable when they're with their peers though.
See you next time! (When ever that is)
~dorandsugar
