Title: When Death Comes A' knocking
Author: Shiozaki
Plot Mistresses: Shiozaki, Shaynie, Literary Eagle, LibraryCat
Spellmaker: Literary Eagle
Chapter Warning: Angsty!Kyo, Tortured!Takashi, Suspicious!Dumbledore, Snarky!Snape
Scene Master: Shiozaki & LibraryCat
Author's Note: And the story goes on. . . .you guys can never guess where we went with the plot! Hoho!
Chapter 11
And he dances in the snow
* * * * *
Dance! Dance! Dance till you die!
As the withered leaves fall
And your lips tell a lie
Dance! Dance!
* * * * *
Hisoka woke up early as usual, despite the late night, or early morning as it were, that he had. Lying under the warm blankets and watching the dust motes drift lazily through predawn air, Hisoka extended his senses, letting himself soak up the atmosphere of what should be the warm, thick yet vibrant pulses that a group of hormonal 16 year old teenagers should evoke. That is, if said group of 16 year olds consisted of normal, average 16 year olds instead of two Shinigami with a past so dark and bloody that it wasn't even funny and that one of the 16 year olds wasn't a world saviour.
Life, Hisoka had learned a long, long time ago, tended to screw you both ways to Sunday when you least expect it.
But thankfully, this morning, the emotions he felt swirling sluggishly through the room was of the normal variety; the cool deep blue of sleep swirled through with formless greys of vague dreams. There was a corner where the blue was a bit more vibrant, a bit more darker. Harry. The boy had a magical presence so strong and so unordinary, he drew all magic in a room to him; like a tight vortex of power that demanded attention.
But that was expected. Hisoka noted gratefully that Harry wasn't having a nightmare. Enma knew he didn't feel like diving into another's psyche this early in the morning.
No, early mornings were reserved for a certain purpose. He extended his senses a bit more, sifting through the blue sea and found, just past the stairs at a shadowy corner where a lonely chair was, a tight swirl of dull, silver-grey. It spun a like a whirlpool, drowning itself under its own pull and Hisoka winced.
Kyo was up.
He should have known that it'd be too much too hope that Kyo would still be asleep after last night's fiasco. In hindsight, he should have realized that such an episode would have his friend up at least an hour before him.
Moving quietly, Hisoka got out of bed and after splashing his face with water and patting it dry, he changed into his hakama and uwagi. Rooting around the bottom of his trunk, he fished out his bokken, bypassing his shinai. He had a feeling that today, Kyo would feel more partial towards the heavier weapon. The bokken was weighted like a real sword and was far more satisfying than a bamboo shinai. Not a weapon to be handled by a novice, his bokken was of tiger wood, the deep, rich brown lightly striped with a deeper black. It was a thing of beauty, elegance and lethalness.
He got it from Tsuzuki on his twenty-fifth birthday.
His outfit complete, Hisoka had one last out-of-the-ordinary preparation to do. Taking a roll of bandage from a side compartment, Hisoka began wrapping up his arms from his knuckles up to his elbows.
The protection, so to speak, was necessary. Kyo and Hisoka both liked to fight without the cumbersome use of protection. It added that certain freedom and lightness to movement as well as that element of risk and excitement. But to do so here would risk getting injured as their arms were the most exposed and having their injuries discovered. With their arms covered, they need not explain any bruises or how it could disappear so fast.
Hisoka treaded his way carefully down the stairs. Their early morning sessions had yet to be discovered by their House mates, not even Harry. Neither Kyo nor Hisoka ever saw the need to explain. This was something comforting to the both of them. A little bit of home so to speak.
Hisoka doubted that this morning's exercise would be as good-natured and spirited as it always was. Kyo's kehai was unusually grey and agitated, something he hadn't seen in a long time. With Takashi around, it was hard for Kyo to fall this hard and fast. But then, he didn't have Takashi around now, did he?
He stopped by that particularly dark corner and waited. There was a faint stirring of shadows as Kyo raised himself out of the chair. The common room was faintly lit, so they were both cloaked in shades of chiaroscuro. But that didn't hide the fact that Kyo was so pale, 'white' was an understatement. Blue-black shadows under his eyes made his pale irises stood out even more, and not in a flattering way. Hisoka was sharply reminded of another pair of blue eyes in a grey, scabbed face.
Hisoka shut that little reminder of Harry's dream in a dark corner of his mind. Remembering last night's conversation, Hisoka now realized the connection of the godfather's face with that thing called a Dementor. But that was for later study, he reminded himself. Now, now was the time for his friend.
"Are you ready Kyo?" Hisoka did not bother with any pleasantries. Kyo was not in the mood for one and he knew better than to try.
All he got in response was a blank stare. Kyo swept past him on silent feet, leading the way out as a hand gripped his own bokken so tightly, the knuckles were strained white.
Hisoka tried to hold back a sigh. The morning outside had turned blistering cold overnight, frost already forming on the windows.
And it was just the end of September.
***************
The cold morning light spilled through mullioned windows, giving the room a gentle glow still. Frost traced delicate patterns on the glass, starbursts of white and ice as ethereal as a spider web. The weather was unusual enough for this time of the month. Already the ground outside was covered with a thin layer of snow. Even with the liberal heating charms throughout the tower, it wasn't enough to keep the stone floors warm as the charms were meant for what was supposed to be autumn in September.
But Harry was unaware of all this intricate byplay of weather phenomenon and the need for a temperature sensitive heating charm.
Harry Potter was currently dead to the world and quite happy to stay that way, thank you very much.
A situation Ron felt that was his honour-bound duty as his best friend to rectify immediately. Wincing as his feet jiggled a quick dance on the cold floor, his slippers lost somewhere in the dark depths under his bed, Ron chanced a quick grin and whipped out his wand.
"Accio pillow!" and promptly got a mouthful of feathers as said pillow smacked into his face.
"Bloody, useless--! Oy! Harry! Wakey wakey!"
Harry groaned and buried himself deeper underneath the covers. "G'way Ron. S'too early."
"No it's not!" Ron insisted. "It's way too late! Look! The sun's up and we've got Potions in 5 minutes!"
That got Harry up real quick. He yelped, shooting up so fast that Ron fell back on his rump. He scrambled around his night table for his glasses, all the while moaning about how Snape was going to kill them. It was after he got his glasses on his nose and seeing Ron rolling around on the cold floor fit to burst that he realized what day it was.
"Ron, you prat! It's Saturday! We don't have Potions on Saturday!" Harry said in aggrieved tones.
"You--!" Ron howled, choking with laughter. "Your face!! Oh sweet Merlin, your face!!"
Harry muttered darkly under his breath, "Glad someone finds it funny."
It took Ron a while to calm down, mostly when Harry threatened to dump the contents of the water pitcher over his head. Still gasping occasionally, Ron took up perch on his rumpled bed, grinning all the while. Taking advantage of the momentary lull, Harry looked around to see that all of his dorm mates were gone, Kyo and Hisoka included.
"Is it that late?" Harry asked, surprised.
Ron shrugged. "Not much, it's only ten. Plenty of time to grab some breakfast in a few. We however, have to talk."
Ron's earlier grin was gone, replaced by as serious a look as any. Despite his wild red hair and freckles that was even more prominent, that dignified look suited him and Harry was afforded the rare glimpse of how his friend might turn out in a few years time.
"Yeah?" Harry leaned back into his pillows, burrowing a bit under the blankets. After a moment's deliberation, Ron joined him. It took some good-natured shoving before they were both snug and comfortable. "God, it's cold."
"Don't change the subject," Ron said primly. "We have to talk about your. . .new friends."
"I wasn't changing the subject," Harry replied in hurt tones that was mostly feigned. "My new friends? You mean Hisoka and Kyo?"
"Yeah. What happened last night?"
Harry fidgeted uncomfortably, looking at anywhere but Ron. After studying his hands for a few minutes, Harry shrugged and said, "I don't know," he confessed. "Hisoka said he'll explain it to me but we never got around to it. Kyo had a nightmare and we had a hell of a time trying to calm him down. By then I was halfway asleep already."
"A nightmare kind of like your own?" Ron asked softly and he too, looked away.
Harry swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "I. . .guess," he said reluctantly.
"Harry." There was a note of complete seriousness in that word that had Harry turning around to his friend. Ron was actually looking back and he continued. "Harry, are we still best friends?"
Harry was completely taken aback. He never expected this question to come up. "Of course we are!" he exclaimed. "Why shouldn't we?"
"Well," Ron shifted, "you've been so busy lately with Kyo and Hisoka that I hardly get to hang out with you. I don't want us to. . .you know, drift apart. It was hard enough in fourth year. . ." he trailed off.
"I'm not the only one who's busy," Harry tried for a wry tone to lighten up the air. "You and Hermione have been studying together a lot recently."
As expected, Ron turned a beet red. "It's nothing! I mean, NEWTS is coming up and I want to do well and—oh shut it, you!"
Harry grinned.
"Listen, Harry. We're not trying to exclude you or anything! Really! It's just. . we're still working things out and—" he stopped when Harry raised a hand to forestall him.
"I understand," he smiled. "Believe me, I do. I've been waiting since third year for you guys to get a clue. I'm glad you did."
"Har—"
"And," Harry went on firmly, determined to finish, "you two will always be my best friend. Always. It's just. . .you know how you have these empty spaces in your heart that different people fill? Like. . .there's space inside for your family and the Burrow, and there's yours and Hermione's and. . ." Harry made a frustrated noise. "I'm not explaining this right!"
Ron coughed, the tips of his ears turning dull red and he seemed fascinated with his hands all of a sudden. "I understand," he managed to croak out.
"You do?" Harry asked uncertainly.
Ron nodded vehemently. "Good," he said with a relieved sigh. "See, that's what Kyo is to me. Kyo and Takashi. They both fill in a different space. Just like Hisoka and Tsuzuki."
"You're closer to Kyo and Takashi though," Ron pointed out quietly.
Harry was quiet for a long moment, his green eyes focused on something only he could see and no one else. Just when Ron thought that Harry had fallen asleep again, he stirred and fixed a calm gaze on Ron, one that imparted his sincerity and belief in what he was saying.
"They're special to me," Harry admitted. "I know that I've only known them for a short while but. . .they act more like. . .parents to me. It's. . nice."
Ever since the debacle in fourth year, Ron had made a solemn vow to himself and on the Cannons that he would never ever betray Harry again. It took the silence and separation to drive in the fact that yeah, he might always be in Harry's shadow in the eyes of the wizarding world but to Harry, he was Ron Weasley. His best mate. That was enough.
"Harry," Ron started, the sincerity echoed in his own voice and expression. "You're more than my best mate. You're like my brother. Heck, even mum has adopted you into the Weasley clan."
That got a genuine smile from Harry, a smile that was too few and far in between ever since the Department of Mysteries.
"Family watch out for each other, no matter what," he said fiercely and had to stop for a bit when Harry coughed, his eyes suspiciously bright. "And I'm worried. I can see how much you like Kyo and Takashi but I don't trust them. Not because I'm jealous, but because I'm worried."
Harry sighed, running a hand through his messy black hair. "But I trust them," he said simply.
"Why?"
Harry worried his lower lip, giving Ron a cautious, assessing look. "I got nothing to go on but my instincts and my instincts are telling me that I can trust them."
Ron didn't have the heart to remind him about Sirius but he needn't to. Harry gave a short, biting laugh. A kind of laugh that he never thought to hear from the quiet boy. "Oh, I know that I was wrong the last time," he said with a bitter twist of the lips. "But I know, I can feel that this has nothing to do with Vo-you-know-who." Those bright green eyes held his and like anyone else caught in that fierce glare, Ron was enthralled. "I trust them," Harry finished with quiet conviction. "Do you trust me?"
Ron knew a losing battle when he saw one. He knew also that to push further would only drive a wedge between them, possibly breaking their friendship once again. And how could he protect Harry from a distance?
"I trust you," Ron said slowly. "But like Hermione said the other day, you don't mind us looking out for you anyway, right? It'll help me sleep better at night," he smiled crookedly.
That got an answering smile. "You wouldn't be the nosy, red-haired git I knew if you didn't."
"Hey! I'm not the only nosy one here, oh he who discovered a certain mirror which shall remain nameless, thank you."
That quickly degenerated to name-calling and dredging up events which were better left unburied (in case a certain mother and a certain other best friend ever found out about it) and a furious pillow fight that left the dorm covered with feathers.
The two friends trudged down for breakfast together and despite the unseasonal cold and the promise of snow from the heavy clouds outside, Ron felt that all was right with the world. He had his best friend by his side and was about to sit next to another best friend who was quickly proving to be more than just.
Yes, all was right with the world.
************
All was not right with the world.
Takashi stood in an alcove just off the Great Hall, his hazel-green eyes taking in the light rain of snow that had just started to fall a few minutes ago. He didn't have to confirm it to know that this bout of too-early winter was the talk on everyone's lips. All morning long, students had trooped by on their way to the Great Hall to glance outside and complain in loud voices about the unexpected winter. Almost everyone was dressed warmly, even indoors, for the cold had permeated the castle through and through. Filch had been going around earlier, dispensing oil to the suits of armour and even the portraits complained that their paint was flaking.
The snow was a silent curtain, muffling all sounds and covering any sort of tracks, animal or human, that might have been made outside in the night. The whole castle grounds were covered with pristine white, broken only by the huge prints of Hagrid's moleskin boots. Despite the calendar on the staffroom wall that insisted it was only the end of September, they were already hip deep in winter.
Takashi knew that some people like to think that the weather can reflect your moods. Most of the time, if not all the time, it was merely lucky coincidence that it just so happened to be raining cats and dogs when you just broke up with a boyfriend or how the world was filled with sunshine when you finally got that ring you've been waiting for years.
But when it came to a certain someone, it was only too true.
He knew the reason for this early winter. He could feel it deep in his bones without even the whisper at the back of his mind. The silent, muffling snow that covered everything fell just for that reason; to silence and muffle the growing horrors and nightmares of the man he loved and could do nothing for. The one man he knew would have the power to affect the weather like this.
"Hold on, Kyo," he whispered to the snow. "Please hold on."
**************
Saturday (and Sunday) breakfast were casual affairs at Hogwarts. Most students and professors came dressed in Muggle clothes, the only exceptions being the strict purebloods and the Headmaster. Well, Professor McGonagall also. And maybe Snape. Then there's Hagrid for whom normal clothes will never fit nor look right on. But in essence, most people came dressed in normal, Muggle clothes.
Right.
So Harry and Ron had foregone their robes for that day, wearing instead thick Weasley jumpers courtesy of last Christmas from Molly and heavy jeans. Ron, who was still complaining about how wrong the weather was, even had on his Gryffindor scarf. They spotted Hermione easily from the doors and quickly sat down in the empty seats she had saved for them; one on either side of her. The both of them were too hungry to mumble nothing more than a "g'morning" before diving in to the mounds of hot potatoes, bacons, eggs and cereal. Instead of the usual pumpkin juice, the house elves had wisely sent up pots of hot tea, coffee and chocolate with plenty of whipped cream to go around.
Hermione huffed something about "Boys and stomachs" and buried herself in a dusty thick tome she had dragged down to the table. Still chewing a last bit of egg, Harry squinted and could just make out the faded letterings, the gilt long gone. Eastern Mysticism: What Your Mum Didn't Want You To Know.
"Mmphhsnnrmm?"
"Honestly, Harry!" Hermione said in deeply offended tones. "I thought you had more manners than that! You're as bad as Ron!"
"Hey!" Ron protested through a mouthful of potatoes and they were given a glimpse of just how well-mashed he had them. "I'm right here!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I rest my case," she muttered sardonically.
Harry swallowed and took the pains to enunciate his words with extra caution and slowness. "I'm sorry Hermione, but may I enquire as to why you're reading that particular book?" He got a dirty look in answer.
She sniffed disdainfully. "Unlike some people," here, she made a point to glare at both Harry and Ron before continuing, "I actually think that there's more to benefit from this foreign exchange program. We actually have real, live omnyouji in our midst. Don't you think this is the perfect opportunity to study how magic prevails in other parts of the world?"
Ron and Harry exchanged one brief look that conveyed an entire conversation.
"No," they chorused.
"After all," Ron said offhandedly, "We got you to tell us what we're missing out on."
"Ronald We—" Hermione started.
"You are the smartest witch in Hogwarts. If anyone can make us understand what we're missing on, you can."
Interestingly, that got Hermione to shut up and she blushed a pretty red. Harry had to stifle a snicker with his bacon.
"Oh shut up Harry," she blushed some more and jabbed her elbow into his side halfheartedly. "Seriously, we're given the valuable chance to study omnyoujitsu. You do realize the significance of it, don't you?"
Harry thought for a moment and said, "No."
She huffed again. "If you study Kyo and Hisoka closely, you'll realize that they—"
"I feel like some animal in a zoo," a dry voice interrupted. "Ladies and gentlemen, for your viewing pleasure, the rare species from the Kyo family. Notice the particular beauty of the specimen we have today?"
Hermione blushed again. "K-kyo!"
"Yes, I do believe that is my name," Kyo deadpanned and sat down right in front of Harry. He shot the boy a smile, though it was definitely a not as bright as usual and had more than a twinge of weariness to it. Hisoka had sat down as well and was helping himself with unusual gusto to the sausages, potatoes and egg. Kyo ignored the still steaming breakfast to pour himself a cup of coffee, black. Not even adding any sugar to cut the bitter brew, Kyo drank as calmly as though he was drinking milk.
Ron felt he had to voice out his opinion on this. "Merlin! How can you drink it straight like that? That stuff's vile, mate!"
"Practice," Kyo replied blandly.
Exchanging a look with Ron, Harry frowned and leaned forwards, the better to study his friend. Despite the rather jocular quip earlier, Kyo looked tired. His face was pale and dark shadows bruised the skin underneath his eyes, giving him a haunted look. The shadows, the pale skin and the equally pale lips made his light blue eyes even lighter in comparison but it lacked its usual twinkle. His eyes were flat, shuttered windows that reflected light back instead of admitting it in.
And if Harry looked closer, he could see the hand holding the coffee cup shaking with faint tremors.
"Kyo, you don't look so good," Harry's frown creased deeper. "Are you okay? Should you go to the hospital wing?"
At the mention of 'hospital wing', Hermione switched into mother-hen mode and closed her book with a decisive snap. A quick once-over had her concurring with Harry.
"Harry's right," she frowned in concert. "You don't look well. Are you having a fever? Why didn't you take him to Madam Pomfrey, Hisoka? It's obvious he's not feeling fine." The censure in her tone had Harry wincing and Ron to scoot a few inches away nervously. Nothing was as frightening as a Hermione in irate mother-hen mode. Except Mrs. Weasley perhaps.
Hisoka paused in consuming his breakfast, the fork laden with eggs halfway to his mouth. Surprisingly, Hisoka did not snap back at her. He merely lifted an eyebrow in response and set his fork down carefully. He turned to Kyo who was ignoring everyone in favour of studying the dregs of his coffee. Somehow, Harry doubted he had taken up coffee-leaf reading.
"Kyo," Hisoka asked calmly. "Are you feeling alright?"
"Why shouldn't I be?" came the mild reply.
"Because you don't look it?"
"It must be your imagination then."
Hisoka turned back and again, lifted an eyebrow to Hermione. It was obviously a challenge. Can you do better?
Hemrione took a deep breath. She was never one to back down in the face of a challenge. And by Merlin, she wasn't going to start now.
"Kyo, you really don't look well. It's obvious to everyone. Don't you think resting in the hospital wing is much better? We'll even come visit with chocolate if you have to stay overnight!" she finished brightly. She had gone with the failsafe approach of chocolate but it was doomed to failure as well.
Kyo merely refilled his cup and stared off into space.
Harry had never seen Kyo or Takashi lose their temper, not even at the Dursleys and he didn't want to start now. Seeing Hermione getting frustrated, he decided to intervene before a row could erupt. Kyo, despite his rather calm air, was more stubborn than Hisoka on a good day.
"So, er. . .Hisoka!" he interrupted. "Where did you go off to this morning? Ron told me that you and Kyo were up before anyone else."
"We were busy being one with nature and moving in harmony with the universe," was his rather unenlightening response.
"Eh?"
"I was kicking Kyo's ass into the dirt and he returned the compliments."
"You were fighting?!" Hermione asked, shock coloring her tone.
"No, we were trying to kill each other," Hisoka said blandly. He took a swig of his coffee. "Urgh. Not enough sugar. Pass me some, Kyo," he demanded.
Kyo obligingly passed the sugar and leaned back. Harry tried to catch his eye but Kyo was intent on not making contact with anyone. His gaze had drifted up to the ceiling. The enchanted ceiling reflected the sky outside so it was a dismal gray that rained snow which disappeared a few feet above their heads. By their side, Hermione was still pestering Hisoka, trying to get him to clarify while Hisoka was obviously becoming deliberately more and more obtuse the longer she went. Hermione was almost tearing her hair out in frustration and it didn't help that Ron was sniggering quietly to himself. Harry had to admit, it was a refreshing novelty having someone outwit Hermione so neatly like that. Fun, but potentially dangerous to the health of the one doing the baiting.
"Hey, Kyo," Ron stopped his sniggering to give Kyo a once-over himself. He raised an eyebrow and asked, in tones of complete astonishment, "Aren't you freezing your bo—er, freezing?" with a nervous look at Hermione who had growled ominously at his near slip.
Harry blinked in surprise. Sure enough, he was just realizing that while Kyo was wearing Muggle clothes like everyone else, he was wearing only a t-shirt and jeans. A short-sleeved t-shirt and jeans. Even Hisoka was wearing a thick sweater.
"It's too hot for me," Kyo replied in faraway tones.
Hisoka, Harry noted, was carefully avoiding catching anyone's gaze.
"Hot? Hot?! Have you gone bonkers? It's freezing! Hell, it's snowing!" Ron said indignantly as though Kyo's comment was an affront equal to an insult.
Kyo set his cup down on the table and stared deep into it. Harry could just make out his lashes drifting gently down to dust pale cheeks. "Not cold enough," he whispered.
Right, Kyo was seriously freaking him out. Harry felt the worry bubbling up and he shot Hisoka a panicked look. Hisoka only frowned slightly and shook his head once. But before he could protest, much less drag Kyo off to the infirmary no matter he claimed not to be sick, Takashi was walking towards them. Harry was glad to see that Takashi was at least dressed sensibly in a black wool sweater and heavy cords. That meant he only had to be worried about Kyo.
Or not. Takashi, as he stood over them with a faint smile, looked almost as bad as Kyo. The only difference between them was that there was at least a spark of life in his eyes. Kyo's was as cold as the snow.
"Good morning," he nodded his greeting. They murmured their greetings back, sans Kyo who kept staring down into his cup. He ignored Takashi who was standing right behind him and didn't even stir when the professor laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Kyo. Can I talk to you outside for a moment?"
Without a sign of acknowledgement, Kyo stood up and strode out of the Hall, Takashi at his heels. It wasn't just Harry and his friends who kept track of them until the great doors blocked their view. From the High Table, a pair of twinkling blue eyes and a pair glittering black watched as well. But they didn't let such a thing as wooden doors to stop them. With a nod from the Headmaster, Snape gave his wand a little flick and a jet of wispy red light streaked out, weaving past the students' legs and it disappeared around the great doors.
Outside, reflected by the enchanted ceiling, the sky turned darker and the whirl of snowflakes thickened until it was a veritable wall of white.
***to be continued***
Shiozaki: Praise me. I need praise.