Ch. 15 - And the Week Goes On

Things quieted down somewhat after that, as the transfer students settled in - and everybody else started to get accustomed to their antics... or at least desensitized to them. It was hard to tell which was more accurate, but the Tantei were, in reality, only slightly more violent and strange than many of the things wizardborns were raised with (Acid Pops, Exploding Snap, and Quidditch, for example), and the Muggleborn students tended to lose most of their shock reflex by the end of their first round of classes. So it was probably both.

That wasn't to say the second round of classes was dull, of course…

-0-0-0

"The dragon's fogging everything," Hiei lied, straight-faced.

Trelawney sighed. "Jaganshi… I wish I could hold out more hope for you, child." Hiei doubted that. The woman loved tragedy. "No, no, don't ask… it's too terrible." As if he had any interest in her predictions of doom? He was more willing to believe Kuwabara's ESP. At least it was accurate (and useful), even if it was all echoes of the past.

"Now, Kuwabara… tell me of your scryings."

Silence.

"Kuwabara? Kuwabara!"

Hiei kicked him, jerking him out of his trance. "Wha…? Professor?"

"Your vision, dear."

"I…" Kuwabara pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry. It was all a jumble." Hiei perked slightly. Confused images? Despite the fact that he was an idiot, Kuwabara usually got clear impressions. Or he had for about as long as Hiei had known him. "But… um..." Kuwabara looked up at Trelawney, bewildered. "Something about a horse with a horn on its forehead…?"

"A unicorn, dear."

"Oh. Whatever it was, I think it was dead."

Hiei noticed Harry stiffen. Odd…

-0-0-0

"Wands down!" Professor Flitwick called out, climbing down from his desk and shuffling over to the new bush in the room. "Mr. Minamino… this is highly irregular."

Kurama went faintly red. "I… I'm sorry, Professor. I can't explain it."

Flitwick sighed. "After class, you can take your desk down to Professor Sprout and see if she'll plant it. Let's try this again, all right? Nice soft flick, long followthrough, and Accio…"

-0-0-0

The glares exchanged by Hiei and Professor Snape were equally venomous.

"This," Snape hissed, gesturing curtly at Hiei's potion, "proves exactly what I suspected: that you have no potions skills, aside from your lab partner's. Five points from Gryffindor." He spun, barely glancing at Kurama's (separate) cauldron. "And five points to Slytherin."

Hiei caught Yuusuke's arm as Snape moved on to the next table. "Don't," he murmured.

"But-"

"If I gave a crap, I'd trash him myself. I don't. Leave it."

-0-0-0

After lunch on Friday, Kurama left the castle grounds, intent on spending his free afternoon learning the areas outside the surveillance of his spyeye vines. The castle's position made for incredible views of the surrounding landscape, which was strategically sound, so there were very few spots Kurama's spyeyes couldn't show from the castle walls: the bottom of the lake, under the spectator towers of the Quidditch pitch, inside Professor Hagrid's hut - all places it was almost pointless to check - and, of course, within the Forbidden Forest.

Kurama had been itching for his chance to get into the Forest. How could he not? One, it was a forest. Two, it was the most obvious vulnerability in Hogwarts' defenses; it covered nearly a third of the perimeter, and even on a bright, clear day like today, you could see hardly ten meters into it. And three, it was forbidden. With an order like that, it's amazing any of us have stayed out of it this long, Kurama thought to himself, as he walked casually along towards Hagrid's hut.

The Care of Magical Creatures book he'd swiped as a prop shifted in his arms. "Behave," Kurama murmured, stroking the spine soothingly. He knocked on the door of the hut.

"Eh? Who's there?" The huge professor opened the door, blinking in surprise at Kurama's presence on his doorstep. His eyes narrowed slightly in recognition, though his next words sounded confused. "An' what are yeh wantin'?"

Kurama held out the book, displaying the front cover with its smeared name label. "I apologize for disturbing you, Professor, but I found this in the front hall." He lifted the cover, showing that the front page was badly torn. "There's no name," Kurama had been very careful to make sure there wasn't one, "so I thought I should give it to you."

Hagrid stared at him for a second, then slowly took the book. "Er… thank you," he said, completely bewildered, exactly as Kurama had planned. By the time the shock of a Slytherin being polite to him had worn off, the half-giant should start wondering why Kurama had gone to all the trouble of bringing him a book… and shortly after that, start trying to figure out if Kurama had booby-trapped it (which he hadn't).

Kurama bowed. "It was no trouble, Professor," he murmured. He caught sight of the nearly poleaxed look on Hagrid's face as he straightened, and bit back a smile. "Have a good day, then." He turned and left, feeling the professor watching him as he headed along the edge of the Forest towards the lake. Then the sense of being watched was gone, and Kurama slipped into the Forest.

-0-0-0

"What? Come on, I wanna try this basketball-on-broomsticks thing!"

"Hn."

"It'll be fun-" Yuusuke tried, cutting himself off when Hiei rolled his eyes at the word 'fun'. He changed tactics. "It'll probably be a better challenge than anything else we can do here. Unless you'd rather dance on the roof again instead?"

Hiei shot him a deadly glare. "I. Don't. Dance."

"Whatever. Think about it. You'll be thirty meters up. You'll have thirteen other people - seven opponents, six deadweights - and two flying cannonballs trying to mess with you. And you'll be trying to use an almost completely new type of weapon: a broomstick. I'll even promise to whack a few Bludgers your way. Okay?"

"… deal."

Yuusuke grinned, then turned to Harry. "Potter! Got another player!" he called across the common room.

"Great!" Harry smiled at Hiei. "Now we just need four more."

"What about Kurama?" Yuusuke asked. Most of the small, predominantly-Gryffindor group shot him scandalized looks.

"He's busy," Hiei said shortly. The others visibly relaxed.

-0-0-0

It was oddly gloomy in the Forbidden Forest, with heavy mists flowing in silvery tatters over the ground. The leafy canopy high above Kurama's head was unnaturally thick, allowing only rare slivers of the day's sunshine through intact. The rest was filtered to an eerie shade of green, as dark as the minutes before a massive thunderstorm.

Kurama made his way through a wide swath of trees and underbrush covered with scorch marks, holes, oddly colored blobs, and tentacles. (Yuusuke Was Here, Kurama thought wryly of the scorch marks and holes, though he couldn't figure out what had caused the other oddities. Perhaps those twins who'd had detention last Sunday…?) Past the damage, he slid into a slight dip in the land, finding a sluggish, clear-running stream. He quickly rolled up his pants legs and took off his shoes and socks, knotting the laces together and slinging them over one shoulder. Then he stepped into the water and began making his way downstream. The water was distressingly cold, but Kurama ignored the chill. Perhaps it was a bit paranoid, but better to be safe - and not be leaving a scent trail - than hunted.

-0-0-0

They'd only been flying for about an hour before, predictably, the Slytherin Quidditch team showed up.

"Off the field, Potter!" Malfoy yelled up to them. "We've got practice!"

Harry groaned. "The season hasn't even started yet!" he yelled back. "The field's free to whoever asks first!" And no one could be having an official practice, not until after tryouts. Only six of the Slytherin "team" were actually on it; the seventh player standing with them had to be an unofficial replacement for Flint, who'd graduated.

Malfoy merely smirked, and waved a folded sheet of parchment.

The two teams slowly angled towards the ground, Harry in the lead. He touched down, left his broomstick, and wearily asked, "Can't you think of anything more original than running to Snape?"

"Yeah, like finding something better to do?" Ron grumbled. "Oh, wait, you're Draco wanking Malfoy, your mission in life is to be a pest."

Malfoy sneered at him. "And yours is to waste space. Run along and waste it somewhere else."

The largest of the Slytherins with him - Adrian Pucey, a gorilla-faced 6th-year with all the build and IQ of a brick wall - stirred. "And take your Mudbloods with you."

"Mudblood," Uremeshi repeated flatly. "Why don't I like the sound of that?"

"It's an insult," Hiei replied. He hadn't been there the day Kuwabara had gotten detention over the word, Harry recalled. Maybe Yukina had told him. "It means your parents are Muggles."

Uremeshi scowled. "Well. Guess I'm a Mudblood, then." He turned his attention to Pucey, glaring up (and up, and up…) at the boy. "Ya got a problem with that?"

"Yes," Pucey said.

"Ch'. At least you're honest about it." There was something lighter, almost approval, in Uremeshi's voice. "Let's get to it, then."

Pucey's face screwed up in incomprehension. "Get to… what?"

"The fight," Uremeshi said. "You're obviously picking one, and I'm tired of looking at your ugly mug." He waited while Pucey processed that.

"No more talk?" Pucey finally asked, slowly. Uremeshi shook his head: no, no more taunting. Pucey's eyes lit up as that clicked in his mind, and he went for his wand.

Uremeshi stepped fluidly forward, fist sweeping up and under Pucey's guard, slamming high into his gut. The 6th-year keeled over, eyes rolling back into his head and wand dropping from nerveless fingers. Uremeshi stepped out of his way as he slumped to the ground, unconscious.

"That," he grumbled, "was pathetic."

As if the words had snapped them from shock, the remaining six Slytherins went for their wands. Four years of schooling with Malfoy and his ilk had left their mark on Harry and his classmates; they went for theirs in the same instant. Suddenly, Uremeshi was standing in the crossfire of over a dozen wands.

"That," Malfoy snarled, "is going to get you expelled."

"Not if you hex him," Harry said coolly.

"Yeah. He was going for his wand," Seamus said. "Self-defense. Who's gonna believe Uremeshi attacked a guy twice his size for no reason?"

Uremeshi smirked. "Fourteen stories to seven. Like those odds, Malfoy?"

Malfoy waited another beat, gray eyes cold and calculating, then his face twisted. He stepped back, wand falling to his side. "Derrick, pick Pucey up," he snapped. "We obviously can't practice now."

The 7th-year cast a somewhat shaky Mobilicorpus, and the team started to walk away. Harry and the others watched, wary of turning their backs on the Slytherins, and tensed when Malfoy turned.

"This isn't over, Potter!" he shouted.

"Never bloody is," Harry muttered under his breath.

-0-0-0

Kurama followed the stream, wandering from one side to the other as plants caught his eye through the mists. The time of year was perfect; every species that produced seeds was laden with ripe or nearly-ripe fruits and pods. The few that used some other method of reproduction still had fresh twigs and leaves that Kurama could work with.

The stream here cut sharply through its banks, its bed littered with smooth, shifting pebbles that made the footing unstable. Kurama had some difficulty climbing out without getting mud streaked on his pants, but it was far less hassle than a twisted ankle would be if he stayed in the stream. He put his shoes back on and picked his way over to a patch of low, leafy vines. Crouching among them, he began to gently press the leaves aside, looking for seed pods.

Something rustled behind Kurama. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing nothing. His eyes narrowed, and he deliberately turned back to the bit of undergrowth he was pawing through, hoping to draw out whatever it was.

Another rustle, on the far side of the stream. And there, something flickered at the corner of his vision. It seemed there was more than one. (Wait for it… wait…) His questing fingers brushed against a spiky bit of twig (blackberry: workable), and closed over it (not yet…) as the sense of movement behind him increased…

Now!

He spun midstream, his arm snapping up defensively, mouth opening with the words on the tip of his tongue (Blackberry Whip!) in the same instant that he caught sight of the several dozen tiny creatures frozen in shock… His arm dropped.

"Wood sprites," he murmured ruefully. It figured… even non-magical forests harbored a few of the things, so the Forbidden Forest should be (and evidently, was) infested with them. This particular species resembled a twig doll, perhaps fifteen centimeters or so tall, with pincer-like hands and flat, brown-eyed little faces. Kurama tucked the sprig of blackberry away in his hair, bemused by their presence. Since when did the creatures leave their nests?

"What are you doing?" he asked, not really expecting them to fully understand or answer. The sprites just stared at him, one bold one taking a single, hesitant step closer. Kurama raised his chin. "You can go back to your trees now," he said.

They stared at him, wide-eyed. Kurama's hand finally came in contact with the pod he'd been looking for, and he plucked it, tucked it into his hair, and stood. He turned his back on the creatures and started downstream.

After a few minutes, he heard the underbrush behind him rustling again. He suppressed a sigh and glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, the sprites were following him. This was ridiculous. He was a fox, not a mother duck! And it was hardly discreet to have a herd of tree spirits on his tail, so to speak.

Kurama turned once more, giving the sprites a flat stare. "Go home," he said coldly. "Guard your trees, not me. I don't need it."

He waited, but they didn't move. So Kurama knelt, pressing his palm to the ground, and sent a low burst of power into the underbrush. Tiny vines shot out, wrapping around every sprite. "I said," he murmured, standing, "leave. Me. Alone."

Kurama left them struggling in his vines, and took off running. He'd carefully not grown the roots properly, so the vines would wilt within minutes without his power, and he did NOT want to be near the area when the little spirits were freed. If his point had gotten across, they'd return to protecting their nests; if it hadn't, and he was still around, they'd flock to him. He would have to kill them, then, since he couldn't be out here til dawn trying to match them all back up with their trees.

When he got far enough away that he deemed it safe to slow down, he looked around and realized that Hagrid's hut was just over the next rise. He'd made a fairly decent haul, for his first venture into the Forest, and it was getting close to dinnertime… decision made, Kurama angled away from the hut, skirting the forest's edge until most of the castle's view was blocked by the Quidditch pitch. Then, he found a shallow dip in the land and simply walked out of the Forest.

Several minutes later, he reached a side door several floors below Gryffindor Tower. It wasn't locked or warded, fortunately, and he pushed it open. As he took the first step from the grass onto the flagstones paving the corridors, he felt 'Youko' fade towards the back of his mind, as 'Shuiichi' slid to the forefront… which was, seconds later, what prompted him to yelp when something lightweight snagged at his pants leg, scrambling upwards until it caught his hair and clung. He twisted and yanked his hair over his shoulder. Two large brown eyes blinked up at him from a flat, woodlike face.

"Not you again!" he groaned.

The wood sprite twisted its pincer-like hands more firmly in his hair and snuggled in response.

Now what? Kurama wondered as he headed towards the more populated areas of Hogwarts. It was one thing to kill a wood sprite in the Forest, but it was something entirely different to kill in the castle. (Why? Youko's persona asked. It's even less discreet to have this thing hanging off you in here!)

Kurama frowned, pushing the sprite away slightly as it tried to curl up against his neck. It'll be all but impossible to hide the evidence - sap and bits of flesh and whatnot - without using a Makai plant. Then all it would take is that caretaker, or a teacher, or one too-curious student, and I'd have a dead human and a Reikai sentence on my hands. And NOT hiding the evidence is out of the question!

Soft, Youko accused. Maybe we can dump it in the greenhouses, then. And pay attention; student, dead ahead.

Kurama shook off his musings and tossed his hair back where it belonged, hiding the tree sprite. "Excuse me," he murmured. The girl turned, the polite half-smile on her face turning into a frown as she recognized him as a Slytherin. "Do you know where I might find Professor Sprout?"

"She might be in the greenhouse," the girl - a redheaded Hufflepuff - replied coolly. "Or her offi-what the..?! Isn't that a bowtruckle?"

Kurama tensed slightly, as she stared at his shoulder, and at the sprite who'd pushed Kurama's hair aside to peer out curiously. "Is that what you call them?" he asked, putting a bit of amusement in his voice. In reality, he was not happy that a student had seen the little beast. "Our word translates as 'wood sprite'."

She ignored his comment, as she thought of something else. "How on earth did you get it away from its tree?!"

"Not on purpose, I assure you," Kurama said dryly.

"It's not easy to 'accidentally' remove a bowtruckle from the forest," the girl said skeptically. "Especially since students aren't even allowed in the Forest. That's why we call it 'Forbidden'."

"I wasn't in the forest," Kurama lied easily. "I was near it - near the Caretaker's cottage. I saw a few of these sprites and investigated, but I didn't try to remove them! This one must have attached itself to my robes."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Look," Kurama said, wincing as the bowtruckle tightened its grip on his hair, "it doesn't matter if you believe me or not. Take me to whichever professor you like, but please, it's hurting me!" If that little display didn't convince her, nothing would.

Her eyes narrowed. "Fine. I know where Gryffindor's Head of House is right now, I'll take you to her."

"Thank you," Kurama murmured, easily seeing through the ploy. If she wanted to test his sincerity, he'd go along with it.

She blinked. "Oh. Um… right, then. This way."

Kurama fell into step a half-pace behind her, making a show of trying to hold the bowtruckle away without making it pull harder on his hair. "Um, might I ask your name?"

"Bones. Susan Bones."

"Kurama Minamino," he said in turn. So this was the classmate Harry had mistaken him for?

"I know."

"I suppose everyone does," he muttered ruefully, just as the bowtruckle gave another tug. Hiei will never let me live this down.

-0-0-0

Hiei stared into the greenish depths of his tea mug, coldly ignoring the din of Hogwart's Saturday lunch. On one side, Yuusuke was talking to Keiko. Hiei ducked Yuusuke's elbow yet a sixth time, as the other boy tried to demonstrate a Quidditch play using his fork, a serving spoon, and a half-eaten roll. With only two hands, the attempt wasn't working too well.

On Hiei's other side, the Weasley twins were arguing in half-sentences over a sheet of parchment, eyes bright as they pointed and scribbled notes, their conversation unintelligible to anyone but themselves.

"But if we-"

"No, see, if we use more newt-"

"Ah, right you are, but it won't last-"

"You'd better not be planning to test those on us," Hermione said, not looking up from her book. She'd been lugging the massive DADA text around the castle with a weight-reducing carryall charm, reading more of it at every opportunity. She tilted the book towards Hiei. "Hey, Jaganshi, this didn't translate. What's it mean?"

Hiei raised an eyebrow at the page in question. "You don't need to know that."

"Jaganshi-!" Hermione whined.

Nosy human. "Most of the language doesn't translate, but it reads o-grd-jci-ln, kao-yh-bgx, souo-mq-lh-gtrwn," he grumbled, carefully keeping the inflections wrong to prevent the spell from activating.

He felt the temperature drop almost imperceptibly behind him. "It's a confining cantrip," Yukina murmured faintly, leaning across the aisle. "Like they used…" she trailed off.

Hiei didn't want to know if she meant those were the spells the Koorime used on the blankets they'd wrapped her brother - him - in when they'd thrown him away, or if she meant the wards used by the teargem wholesaler who'd held her captive for five all-too-recent years.

"You know this, Koorime?" Hermione asked, brightening.

No! Hiei wanted to shout.

"Well… just a bit. I, er, had some time to study them recently," Yukina murmured.

"Could you show me, Koorime?" Hermione asked. "And you too, Jaganshi? You know the language… what language is it, anyway? It didn't sound like anything I've ever heard. And I would really appreciate it, Jaganshi, Koorime-"

"'ey…" Ron mumbled around a roll, interrupting, "why's yer las' name diff'ernt from 'ers, 'nyway?"

Shit! Hiei tensed, feeling rather than seeing Yuusuke and Kuwabara freeze at the same instant. What with everything else on their minds (and Hiei's reluctance to press the issue; Yukina would see how bad a brother he was soon enough), they'd overlooked the little detail that Koenma had given the school different last names for Hiei and Yukina.

"Um…" Kuwabara began.

"Er… well… you see…"

"Custody," Keiko supplied smoothly.

Hiei's head snapped around, his eyes narrowing. What the hell was a 'custody'?

Yuusuke seemed to know. He was nodding in agreement, eyes narrowing as he visibly got an idea. He leaned over the table, towards Hermione. "It's very messy," he half-whispered behind his hand, pointing less-than-subtly at Hiei. "We don't talk about it, kay?"

Hiei got up and stalked off, outwardly fuming. Later he could find Kurama and find out what a 'custody' was, but until then… this worked. Nice save.

-0-0-0

Slightly before dawn on Sunday morning, Hiei's eyes snapped open. He wasted a split second, disoriented by a soft, empty bed and utter blackness (no light... but it's a full moon…?) before he remembered he'd slept in his Gryffindor bed, behind drawn curtains. Another half-second passed before he heard it: there was an extra breathing pattern in the room. He leapt for it, slapping the curtains aside, empty hand descending for a disabling blow (and damned if he didn't wish he could sleep properly, with his sword, in this school, but no... idiots!).

He pulled his punch, his fist landing harmlessly in Genkai's hand. She raised an eyebrow at him, mouth quirking in a faint smile. Hiei echoed the expression and stood aside, allowing her to step silently up next to Yuusuke's bed. She paused a moment, gazing down at the boy almost affectionately, before leaping into the air.

"UP, YOU LAZY IDIOT!" she yelled, her foot snapping out and catching Yuusuke in the ribs, catapulating him out of bed. Yelps from the other beds told Hiei that her shout had woken most of the other boys in the room, though Kuwabara's snores continued.

Yuusuke somersaulted in midair, managing to throw himself out of the arc and towards the ground. He landed in a crouch as the curtains on a couple of the beds were flailed and batted aside.

"Not again…" Seamus groaned. Harry echoed the sentiment wordlessly as he fumbled his glasses into place.

Ron shoved his head past his curtains, squinting a bleary-eyed glare in Genkai's direction. "Is this going to be every bloody week?" he asked, with a sort of irritation Hiei guessed came from being related to the Weasley twins.

"Yes," Genkai replied.

"Earplugs it is, then, chaps," Seamus muttered, "and might I add that we should consider booby-trapping the door?"

Genkai's attention flicked away from Yuusuke. "I will expect that, then, gentlemen. Five points from Gryffindor if you do not trap this room by the end of the month."

The boys' jaws dropped.