Dawn of the Moonfang
By Tango Dancer

Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay, I just came back today at 2 am, and had to clear out all the unopened mail in my mail box (that was more than 600 messages, can you imagine the horror?), and so now I'm updating my stories...

I got a few reviews pointing out several problems, though, and rather than answering them personnally, I'd rather correct the mistakes for everyone who's reading my story, so here we go:

sparklefreeze and readyjetsetlag pointed out that I said in the first chapter that Ichigo was the captain of the 14th division but then stated in chapter 9 that he'd taken over Aizen's post. Sorry, my mistake: Ichigo's indeed the captain of the fifth division, so no 14th division in the Seireitei. I'll correct that as soon as I figure out how to do it (the chapter's no longer in the Doc Manager section... does anyone know how I can change things?).

sparklefreeze also asked how come the HP cast could eavesdrop on Ichigo and Byakuya's conversations and follow them around without getting caught and all that... Yes, they do have reiatsu, however, Hogwarts itself is so full of it, what with having several hundreds students gifted with magic/spiritual pressure casting spells around all day, that it completely blurs their senses and they can't really make out who's where in the castle (or around a lot of wizards and in magical places like Diagon Alley, since the place itself is buzzing with power). Also, magic isn't spiritual pressure, BUT, though it's another kind of energy, it's still supernatural energy, and so it's located and analyzed (in terms of power) pretty much like reiatsu. I hope that made sense, if you have more questions, I'll be happy to answer them, of course^^!

One of the Colorless said Ichigo's blood red hair made her/him think of Renji's... Well, no. In fact, I've always seen Renji's hair as more pink-ish than red^^! So it's more crimson than anything, and it's only streaks, remember he has a most... unusual hair color, lol! As for your question about whether Ichigo could use his hollow powers when he and Shiro where separated... yes, he can. However, they're more potent when they're one. And the Espadas? Yes, they are alive. I'm too lazy to create new ones and their powers, looks and strange names for their Zanpakutôs, so they survived!

Hmmm... I think that's it...

Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 10:

The first thing that came to his mind when he woke up was that he felt warm, and comfortable, and that he must be dead. After all, he hadn't felt that good since his mother's death, and there was no way he would be relaxed while the war was still going on. So, the only logical conclusion was that he was dead. Which was, once again, very strange, because he knew for a fact that when one dies, they go to Soul Society, and end up in Rukongai to start another life as a spirit.

In other words, something was off.

That mere conclusion was enough to have him instantly alert, and he stiffened ever so slightly, his reflexes and training kicking in and allowing him to remain almost completely limp, so that whoever was in the room wouldn't be aware that he was now awake.

Breathing deeply -both to calm down and keep up the illusion that he was still sleeping, he started analyzing his surroundings. He was lying on his side, with his face burrowed into something warm, and firm. The surface he was on was soft, and he deduced it must be a bed. He could hear the sound of someone breathing deeply -obviously, they were asleep- near his head, and warmth were an arm was curled around his waist. And that was when he realized, to his utmost embarrassment, that his hands were actually clutching at fabric, he was cuddling close to whoever was in his bed, and … and...

He slowly slid his eyes open.

And it was Byakuya.

The man was sleeping in his bed, arms wrapped around him in what could be called a protective embrace, Kenseïkan nowhere in sight and black hair spilled around his head like a halo, pale skin glowing slightly, and features relaxed in a look of pure contentment Ichigo had never seen on his face before. Laying there, in his bed, the man looked like a Fallen Angel, black and white contrasting starkly, and sleep warmth completely eclipsing the coldness his aura usually exuded.

He was beautiful.

The young Shinigami stared for a long while, unable to tear his eyes off the sight, enjoying this opportunity and the comfort and warmth of the moment, before sliding his eyes close. Yes, he was content, and felt extremely grateful that Byakuya had stayed with him even after his little outburst, but what would the man say once he woke up and put the mask back on? Most likely, he would be terribly mortified, and would never talk to him again, or, in the best-case scenario, he would just act like all of this had never happened, and go back to his usual cold and sarcastic demeanor.

After all, for a noble of his standing -here, Ichigo ignored the little voice in his head which kept saying that he was of equal nobility-, comforting someone he considered a child and a commoner -and male, at that! before being forced to sleep in the same bed, was utterly unfathomable.

And Ichigo...

Ichigo, as strong as he was, didn't think he could bear to see disgust in those endless orbs of molten steel. He had been betrayed too many times already, and Byakuya had been his last anchor, his lifeguard.

He couldn't bear the thought of losing him, losing his friendship and esteem.

So, he gently freed himself of the embrace, and softly lifted himself up on his forearms, before hesitating, his eyes riveted on the peaceful face before him. Very gently, and slowly, he bent down, and brushed his lips against the pure white forehead in a soft caress.

"Thank you." He whispered in the softest murmur. "I will not burden you anymore."

Rising from the bed, he grabbed a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom, where he quickly stripped off his pants -Byakuya had taken off his shirt before taking him to bed, it seemed-, and turned on the shower. Stepping under the hot spray of water, he let the steady fall of the water drops relax his tense muscles, and stayed in there until he really couldn't take the heat anymore. Feeling better now that the shower had somewhat drained away the negative thoughts, he pulled on his usual clothes -except for the color, since the top was dark red today, and exited the bathroom, rubbing his hair with a towel, only to stop short as a pair of steel gray eyes immediately pinned him to his spot.

Byakuya was awake, and sitting on the bed. He had looked up when the bathroom door had opened, and the two found themselves in an eyelock, unable to either tear their eyes away from each other, or just speak. The two men stared at each other for a while, frozen still and silent, before finally, Ichigo bowed his head in a gesture of respect, the first one in a very long time.

And then, he fled the room.

When Byakuya finished getting ready for the day, he exited the DADA teacher's bedroom, only to find a note on the living room table.

Kuchiki-kyo,

I have a staff meeting so, I must leave you alone for a while. Feel free to wander around the grounds. I will meet up with you later for breakfast if you so desire.

Shihouin Azrael

No titles or anything indicating an equal rank. The young man must have been deeply distressed, Byakuya thought as he put the note down and exited the chambers. He hesitated slightly at the portrait, but then turned to the right and started making his way down, and in the direction he thought the Entrance Hall was. He longed for a bit of fresh air.

He had just reached the Great Hall when he was stopped by a familiar figure, and stopped, inclining his head in greeting, while easily ignoring the stares and whispers -again. The girl looked up at him through narrowed gray eyes, her demeanor stiff and her mouth set in a frown.

"Lord Kuchiki." She said.

"Kurosaki Karin." Was the simple reply.

She stood there for a second, seemingly undecided, but he waited patiently. He had all the time in the world, and knowing her, she hadn't stopped him without a purpose. He just had to wait until she found the correct way to put it.

"I... How is the war going?" She finally asked.

He rose an eyebrow.

"I am afraid I cannot answer this question, Karin-san. You are a human, one who is not a part of Seireitei."

Anger flashed through her features, but it was brief as lightning, and quickly passed.

"Surely, you can tell me something? Anything?"

He looked at her calmly, molten steel studying her thoroughly. She seemed determined enough, and if giving her inconsequential news could help Ichigo get her off his back, then...

"The war seems to be at a standstill." He said. "There have been no attacks to speak of for the past two weeks, but we keep our guard up. When Aizen strikes -and he will, it will be brutal. We want to be prepared. That is all I can tell you."

She bit her lower lip, eyes down, before nodding slowly. When she looked up, there was a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, before she bowed deeply to him.

"Thank you very much, Lord Kuchiki." She turned to leave, but then, hesitated, and shot over her shoulder. "Please take care of my brother."

She walked swiftly through the doors of the Great Hall, and he saw her join the farthest table on the right, with the students in green and silver. Her reiatsu was somewhat lighter, he noticed, and he felt glad he had answered her questions at least partially. For some reason he couldn't fathom, it seemed like she was reassured, maybe because it meant some more respite for her brother, but he wouldn't venture to conjecturing about her motives, and so he decided to leave it at that, and resumed his walk towards the Main Doors.

He stopped at the top of the front steps, and let his gaze wander over the grounds, humming in approval at the scenery. Endless, luscious green grass, a calm lake the surface of which a large tentacle broke through time and again, and the edge of a thick, dark forest in the distance... He could feel the strange reiatsu -magic, pulsing gently under the waters of the lake, and stronger in the forest.

The Forbidden Forest Azrael had told him about, most likely.

Inclining his head in a gesture of satisfaction, he was about to make his way down the steps, when he heard a badly-muffled "that's the guy from yesterday!" behind him. Turning, he rose an eyebrow at the red-head whose mouth a brunette had just slapped her hand over to shut him up, and watched with inward amusement as the boy turned scarlet.

"I must say, your observation skills must be commended, Mr...?" He drawled, thoroughly enjoying the embarrassment that radiated off the child in waves.

"Weasley, Ron Weasley." The boy said.

Byakuya looked at the rest of the group. Two in particular stood in the front, closer to the the gangly youth, and he assumed...

"I presume you two would be Granger Hermione and Potter Harry, then?"

The brown-haired girl and black-haired boy nodded, before quickly introducing the rest of their group. The girl, he noted, was considerate enough to say the family names before the given names as per Japanese custom, and he hummed under his breath. She was smart, and gentle, reminding him a little of Kurosaki Yuzu, but at the same time, she was fiercer than the blonde would ever be. There was another Weasley, a girl, a brown-haired boy named Longbottom Neville, a blonde with glassy blue eyes, Lovegood Luna, and a few others,but their reiatsu was noticeably lower than those few.

"My name is Kuchiki Byakuya." He finally said.

There were a few seconds of silence as he turned back to the scenery, and he could feel the group exchanging glances, before they stepped forward to stand by him.

"Excuse-me, sir..." The brunette said, somewhat hesitantly. "Are you a friend of Professor Kurosaki's?"

Molten steel looked up and away from her in favor of sweeping over the grounds.

"Yes... I suppose you could say we are friends." He answered slowly.

The students' auras flared in curiosity.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I wonder..." He murmured more to himself than her, before snapping back to the present. "Kurosaki Ichigo and I are allies first and foremost."

"You mean in that war you are fighting?" He glanced at her, inwardly amused by her clumsy attempts at subtly getting him to spill the beans. Unfortunately for her, she was seventeen, and he was over two-hundred years old, meaning that he had far more experience than her, and that was even without counting the manipulative environment he had been brought up in. He was extremely skilled in bending words and twisting truths, and it wasn't a child like her who would hear classified information from his lips.

"Yes, Ms Granger, in this war we are fighting."

She bit her lip, uncertain.

"Can you tell me what the factions involved are? I looked it up, of course, but I couldn't find any reference to a war in Japan ever since the end of the Great Shinobi Wars, and that was over a century ago..."

Aren't you a nosy one...

"No, Ms Granger, I will not tell you anything. There is a reason why that information is classified, and I will not be the one to disclose such important secrets to you. Now..."

"Byakuya."

He turned abruptly to face Ichigo, and noticed immediately the dark rings under the man's eyes. He also looked worried, he noticed, and he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as his colleague approached him, barely sparing a glance at the students.

"Are you alright? I am sorry I left so early this morning and left you alone, but I had a staff meeting, and..."

He trailed off as an elegant hand was raised to stop him. There was anxiety in his eyes, though well hidden, and Byakuya felt his mouth turn downwards in a frown. Instantly, the anxiety doubled and even turned into slight fear.

"I am a grown man, Azrael, I can take care of myself. And I understand perfectly. You have a job here, I would never try to keep you from it. I apologize if my actions indicated otherwise."

The man looked distinctly relieved, and his shoulders sagged ever so slightly as he let his body relax a little.

"Thank you."

The noble hesitated, but then went on after a glance at the students. After all, none of them could understand Japanese, now, could they?

"Also, do not worry about last night. I understand perfectly, and I am glad I was the one you chose. I find myself honored. Thank you." Bowing, he brought his right hand to a fist over his chest to emphasize the true honor he felt he had been given to be the one chosen to witness the young captain's tears and weakness, and to have been the one said man sought comfort from. He straightened up after a few seconds, only to be met with a burning pair of stunned mismatched orbs, wide with bewilderment and awe.

"I..."

The corner of his lips curled up. He knew the other man was speechless, and that there was actually nothing to be said, but Ichigo didn't want to sound disrespectful, ungrateful or indifferent, and so he felt the need to put indescribable feelings into words.

"I know." He said simply, before turning back to the park. "Let us train, why not?"

Ichigo started slightly, but walked over to him nonetheless.

"Why not? Swords only, yes?"

"Yes."

"Less damage this way, I imagine." Ichigo chuckled lowly, before gesturing for him to follow. "Let's go to the Quidditch Pitch. There's a lot of space there."

And so they walked down the lawn and to said place, where Ichigo's offer to transfigure his friend's clothes into something more comfortable and fitted for combat was accepted. They stretched for a few minutes, going through their drills in silence, before standing face to face, a few feet distance between them.

"Terms?" Ichigo asked.

"Kidô allowed, no releasing, no wizarding magic. Hand-to-hand allowed of course."

A smirk.

"Of course."

Hazel and molten gold met steel, determination and concentration in narrowed eyes as both fighters slowly powered up, and adrenaline started pumping in their bodies. Ichigo's arms tensed ever so slightly as he spread them an inch away from his body, arching them in a graceful figure so as to better welcome the gathering spirit particles which were slowly gathering in his hands. And as both blades finally materialized in the awaiting palms, Byakuya fell into guard, the sealed Senbonzakura guarding his chest, and then, they started moving.

o-O-o

They had followed the two men purely out of curiosity. Silently climbing in the bleachers and settling in the Gryffindor part, they had watched as the DADA teacher had transfigured the other's clothes, and concluded that he, too, was either a Squib, or a muggle. This was strange.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked Harry as he put his D.A. Galleon back into his pocket, and she could feel hers warming in her robes.

"If they're going to fight, and their war really is as he says," the dark-haired male said, "then I want the rest to see this. It should be extremely interesting."

She nodded, there was no fault to his reasoning. They listened carefully to the terms as the Kuchiki Lord spoke them, and gasped when shining particles gathered in their Professor's outstretched palms, only to form two sharp, and unbelievably beautiful katanas. The man fell in a low combat stance, the darker sword pointed forward at eye-level, and the other, crossed before his lower body in a protective shield.

The dark-haired noble, on the other hand, had turned to the side, one foot placed before the other, and both hands gripping at the handle of his sword, held the blade in a diagonal, thus guarding his own torso as well.

They stared at each other in silence for a second, and the students almost stopped breathing as something heavy suddenly permeated the air, making it harder to inhale, purring lowly around them, spreading everywhere, and suddenly, as they saw the thin tendrils of whitey pink and crimson-lined black dancing around the two men's feet, they understood. It was the sensation of pure, unadulterated power. And its potency, even as it was so obviously restrained, was enough to send shivers down their spines.

They barely saw the first move, and had a lot of trouble keeping up with the action. The two Japanese men moved with such grace, such speed and yet, such balance and power, that they couldn't tear their eyes off the show. Blades clashed and sparks ignited from the contact, while blood started flowing after ten minutes, but neither combatant gave any sign of stopping any time soon. They kicked, dodged, ducked, swirled and slashed, parried and counterattacked relentlessly, never giving up an inch of space, always regaining what they had lost, always retaliating whenever a blow had been successfully dealt.

It was a beautiful, entrancing dance, and the whole world seemed to have shut up and turned in this direction, entirely focused on the spar, shamelessly abandoning whatever they had been doing to watch, watch this incredibly show of might and ability, grace and lethal skills, power and knowledge.

Pain didn't exist in this dimension. Time didn't flow. And space was a ridiculous notion when you had these two fighters in action under your eyes. Everything revolved around them, they were the universe. There was no way to look somewhere else, no way to pay attention to something else, no way to listen, or see, or taste, or feel anything other than their power, their fight, their friendship.

Because that was what they were. Friends. It was obvious in every move, in every kick, in every attack and defense. The passion in both men's eyes, the fire blazing in the once dull and cold orbs, the lethal shining in their blades, as if they were glowing, humming with joy as they tasted blood, was enough to tell that all this thirst for blood and violence was something they dearly cherished, even though, for some reason, they would never go as far as to seriously injure the other. It was paradoxical, it was incomprehensible, it was a mystery.

It was the way of the Shinigami Noble Clan Heads Kuchiki and Shihouin, but they didn't know that. And when it finally came to an end and their heads finally cleared, they noticed that somewhere during the duel, the others had arrived, but, seeing as the D.A. wasn't a secret anymore, they had brought their friends, and teachers had heard about the fight, and then tagged along, and somehow, almost the whole school was there, staring dazedly at the pair.

It was only at that point that they realized how beaten and bloody they were. But they were still standing tall and proud, and held their blades in a firm grip, right across the neck of one another.

"Goodness gracious..." Someone finally said.

Harry looked up, and saw McGonagall standing there, her eyes wide and her mouth ajar, along with Dumbledore, Snape, and most of the staff. Snape's onyx eyes were wide open, his breathing slightly ragged, and his hands, tightly fisted at his side.

"And they didn't even use magic..." Pomona Sprout added in awe.

"Maybe they were telling the truth about their war." Aurora Sinistra said. "Nobody can move like that without having some serious experience and need to. And they're so young..."

"We've got to get these guys in the Order, Professor." Ron finally said. "With them, we'll crush the Death Eaters in no time."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, but Snape sneered.

"Don't be daft, boy. Do you really think Kurosaki will accept after everything we have done to him? Never."

"Professor Snape is right, Ron." Hermione sighed. "We dug into his past -a painful past without his consent, and demanded he show us his arms, when he actually hid them because of his scars... We have no right to ask anything of him."

"What's more," Harry said in a low, regretful voice, "he already has enough on his plate with the war in Japan. He doesn't need a Death Eater hunt on top of that."

They fell silent as the crowd of students cheered, roared and clapped around them, noticing the vaguely surprised looks on the fighters' face, before they schooled their features in their usual blank mask again, and bowed slightly. Then, they turned around, and walked away, their gait seemingly unaffected by the wounds they had sustained, even though they were walking a little slower.

o-O-o

"Gosh, I'm tired."

Amused by the teenager-like sigh, Byakuya glanced over at Ichigo, who was sprawled on the bed on which he had thrown himself. Rubbing a towel in his hair, he let his lips tilt up in a small smile. The man could just be so... endearing. It was disconcerting, really, how such a mighty warrior and high noble could inadvertently act so refreshingly.

Arms folded under his head, the younger captain looked at him from under his lashes.

"So, what do you want to do now?"

"First, you are going to take a shower. I refuse to show myself in public with a bloody and sweaty companion stinking like a common farm boy."

Ichigo scowled, but sat up nonetheless, grabbed a towel, and locked himself in the bathroom. The door opened again ten minutes later, and the dark-haired noble could only nod in approval at the clothes the man had chosen: dark green top, dark brown pants, dragon-hide boots. And of course, the usual leather protections and choker. The silver caught a sunbeam, shimmering slightly, and he inclined his head.

"These colors suit you."

The young man's head snapped to him, eyes slightly widened in surprise, but he was quick to regain his composure, and smiled, features softening and face glowing ever so slightly. Byakuya's breath caught in his throat.

"Thanks."

It was soft, so low that he barely heard it, but it was enough. Because the tone, the demeanor, the gentle smile and affectionate eyes said it all. He stood.

"Let us go and eat. I am afraid I have to leave this evening. The Captain-Commander requires I be ready for anything as of tomorrow six in the morning."

The rest of the day was spent talking, reading and generally having a good time together. Since it was Sunday, the students could still go to Hogsmeade, and so they went as well, visited a few shops, tried wizarding candies -for Byakuya, anyway, went to the Shrieking Shack and just walked around. At seven o'clock, they went back to the castle with the students, acting as a protective guard of sorts, before having dinner in the Great Hall with everybody.

And then came the time for Byakuya to go back to Soul Society. They left Hogwarts and walked to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, before going in a little deeper to prevent anybody from catching sight of the Senkaïmon opening. The Shinigami drew Senbonzakura from his sheath and stuck him in the air, before turning it with a ninety degrees angle. Japanese sliding doors appeared in the air and opened, before another set followed their examples, and a black butterfly fluttered out of the portal.

Sheathing his Zanpakutô, Byakuya turned to his friend. The man was tense, his face blank of emotions, but his eyes swirling with sadness and loneliness. They stood in silence for a few seconds, none of them wanting to initiate the goodbyes, before suddenly...

To Hell with the protocol.

The Kuchiki Clan Head grabbed Ichigo's wrists painfully, and tugged brutally, pulling him against his chest, before wrapping his arms around the slim but strong body, and holding him there. The hybrid stiffened at first, but then relaxed, and burrowed his face in the taller male's collarbone, embracing him back. They stayed like that for an endless time, they wouldn't have known how long, but it could have been minutes or centuries, and they wouldn't have seen them pass.

Manners and aloofness had been drilled into their heads for months and years on end, emotions, were a weakness, and public displays of affection, completely unfathomable, especially for two nobles of their rank. They were at the top, only accountable to the King, and as such, had to be seen as strict, unwavering, and always firm in their positions and duties. But this -this went against everything they had been taught, and yet, it felt right. They belonged in each other's arms, and nowhere else. Together, they could be themselves. With each other, they could be truthful. And as a pair, they were a warrior's nightmare.

Yet, embracing in a dark, foreboding forest, they were nothing of those. Warriors, Clan Heads, Leaders... They were men, flawed loath as they were to admit it. And no man could go through everything they had without relying on someone else to lift the burden the tiniest bit. In each other, they had found an enemy, a rival, an esteemed opponent, a sparring partner, a comrade in arms, a trusted adviser, a friend, a confidante.

Byakuya squeezed the slighter body gently, before stepping back, and to the Spirit Gate.

"Goodbye."

The doors slid close, but he caught the tiny whisper, quickly taken away by the gently breeze.

"Come back to me."

And for some reason, it made him incredibly happy. The last thing Ichigo saw of Byakuya before the portal shut fully, was molten steel glowing by some inner light, and a genuine smile, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. His breath hitched, and his lips parted, but before he could say anything, the portal had started vanishing, and it was over. He was left alone in the Forbidden Forest, alone with his thoughts and regrets and loneliness, and the vague remnants of reiatsu wisps proving that his dear friend's presence had not been a dream.

o-O-o

"Sit down, sit down, thank you for coming."

The members of the Order of the Phoenix shut up and turned their attention to the old wizard sitting at the front of the room, behind his desk. They had been summoned unexpectedly, and they couldn't even fathom the reason for this: there had been no Death Eater activity for the past two weeks, after all.

"Is this about the boy again, Albus?" Moody grunted.

The man's blue eyes twinkled merrily at the senior Auror's perspicacity. He looked around the room. Everyone had tensed and straightened up when Mad-Eye had spoken, and they all looked definitely more interested than before at the prospect of discovering something new about the enigmatic DADA teacher. He popped a lemon drop in his mouth.

"Indeed it is. Mr Potter, would you please tell those of us who haven't been at Hogwarts this weekend?"

The boy nodded.

"Yes, Professor. This weekend, Professor Kurosaki received a visit from a dark-haired man with the same demeanor as him, who he introduced as Lord Kuchiki Byakuya. When we spoke to him, the man admitted to being at least a comrade of Kurosaki's in the war in Japan, and at best a close friend of his. He got extremely upset when we tried to get information about the war, though."

"Was he a wizard?" Tonks asked.

Harry shook his head.

"I don't think so. When we were at the Three Broomsticks, right after they met up, Hermione cast a translation charm on them, and the Professor talked about the wizarding world, describing it in detail, while the other just listened."

"A muggle, then?" Arthur Weasley sounded excited.

The Boy-Who-Lived shrugged.

"Don't think so either. He was able to see Hogwarts despite the muggle-repelling charms on it, after all, and he did materialize a sword from nowhere during their spar earlier today."

"Do you have a memory of this for us to view?" Shacklebot said. "I think it would be extremely useful."

"Let us hear the rest of the story first, Kingsley." Dumbledore advised. "Please continue, Harry."

"Yes, Professor. As I was saying, he doesn't seem to be either a wizard or a muggle, and he isn't a Squib. After lunch yesterday, we caught them as they exited the Room of Requirement, though, and followed them to the Professor's chamber. They had a very interesting conversation."

He told them all about what they had heard, and then, paused to gather his thoughts.

"So they are fighting against wizards as well, and he is under orders to lure us over to their side?" Bill summed it up.

"And he refused." Charlie pointed out.

"Yes." Harry confirmed.

"What else?"

"Earlier today, we had the privilege to see the two spar together. We will see the memory in a second, and if this doesn't rid you of any doubts concerning a war in Japan, then nothing will ever. Harry, if you will."

The seventeen year old stood up with a nod, raising the tip of his wand to his temple, and pulling out a silver thread of an ethereal substance, before putting it in the pensieve the old man had put on the desk before him. He stirred the liquid in the runes-engraved bowl for a second, then turned to them.

"After you."

And so they dove inside, and found themselves in the bleacher, along with the other Order members. They immediately saw the two opponents, and watched intently as the duel started, and unfolded before their bewildered eyes. When they came out, they remained silent for a while, mulling over what they had seen and trying to get over their shock.

It was Moody who spoke first, quick to regain his bearings as always.

"We've got to get him."

o-O-o

After Byakuya's departure, things gradually went back to normal, or as normal as they could be: Dumbledore and the Order members in the staff and students, though, kept shooting him calculating or awed glances, and he could feel eyes boring holes in the back of his skull wherever he went. It was getting rather annoying, especially since he already had a fairly good idea as to what they wanted with him, and it both suited and thwarted his purposes. Suited them because he did have an order from the Captain-Commander to rally the British wizards to their cause, and thwarted them because he had no interest in getting involved in yet another war, one which didn't concern him in the slightest, and with people who would only constantly criticize his methods and stab him in the back once he had won their fight for them.

Oh, he was realistic alright.

Those people abhorred Dark Magic, Elementals, Magical Creatures, anything and everything they couldn't understand or fathom. Unfortunately for him, on top of being part Shinigami, he was also part blood-thirsty Hollow, and a very, very Dark Wizard. Not that they knew that, he wasn't mad enough to let them get a grasp of his true nature, but the Light and its magic just didn't agree with him. He had a true affinity with the Black Arts, the Shadows, everything related to darkness, and since he was a Being of Death himself, a Harbinger of Demise, an Angel of Death, a Grim Reaper, a Shinigami, whatever you wanted to call him, he was quite in tune with this aspect of life, and thus reacted better to the darkest aspects of magic.

It was his very own nature, and he wasn't about to deny it and give up his heritage and power for the sake of a bigoted batch of imbecilic, close-minded dimwits who had yet to find a better way to cast spells than channeling their power through -of all things!- a stick. A ridiculous, basic, wooden stick. It made him sick.

Oh, of course, he had one. Like every wizard or witch, he possessed a wand. But Japanese wizards didn't train the same way as western countries. They received a wand as soon as they turned two, and used it to consciously cast spells, never using words or incantations, but will and intention. Then, depending on the speed of their progress, they were introduced to wandless and elemental magic -that is, if they indeed were attuned to an element in particular. And Ichigo had proven to be an extremely powerful child.

Wondering about it, he had concluded it might be because of his heritage as a Shinigami, the immense amount of reiatsu powering his magical core, and helping it expand exponentially as months passed by. Maybe it was because his mother had been a very powerful witch, heiress to a prestigious line of Pureblood wizards deeply involved in both wizarding politics and the Spirit World affairs.

Nobody had known of the hidden heir of the Shihouin clan in either worlds, not the Elders Council, not the Central 46, not the Captain-Commander, not even the members of the Clan. Nobody, except for the sole person who had last shouldered the mantle, and even then, she had known her rule would only be temporary. She was the younger sister, and meant only to lead the Clan until her sister's heir was old and strong enough. Though only she had known there actually was an heir.

And Ichigo, as soon as he had turned two, had started training in magic, before being introduced to the Spirit World at fifteen, and showing his worth in an amazingly short amount of time. He had officially been introduced as Shihouin Azrael two years after that, as the war started getting really bad, and he had saved a good half of the Seireitei from getting torn asunder by an Arrancar attack, revealing his wizarding powers in the process, under the stunned eyes of the Elders Councils of the Kuchiki, Shihouin and Kasumi-Ouji clans, who had been trapped in the endangered buildings.

Thankfully enough, nobody else had seen, and his abilities had been kept secret, under the pretense that they were a family secret, and really, it was the truth. And nobody would ever dare go against the Shihouin Clan's desire, especially when it was about a secret shared exclusively between noble families.

It was a question of honor, and so it had never been revealed until this fateful day when he had had to announce his departure to England. And God, had Byakuya perfectly acted his part! It was almost frightening how talented the man was. With his looks, he could have made an amazing Hollywood star.

Ichigo let out a small chuckle as he scribbled another D on a third year's essay. The thought of his noble friend in a historical costume and makeup was quite amusing, especially considering how politics, wizarding or otherwise, were all a game of masks and manipulation. You couldn't survive if you didn't know how to put on the most appropriate expression at all times, and like a professional actor, the Kuchiki Clan Head did that perfectly.

So, did you like it? Alas, all good things must end and...

...

Byakuya left!

Haha, you thought I was gonna say I was discontinuing the story, eh? Okay, okay, stop kicking and cursing me, I know that wasn't funny at all^^! You're still gonna review, aren't you? *Worried look* *Kicked puppy look*

Next time: Rita Skeeter, an attack and a fallout...