But For a Stone (A Matou Shinji Series AU)
A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story
Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.
Summary: What if there had never been a Boy-Who-Lived? What if, at the end of the Wizarding War, young Harry Potter had died alongside his mother and father, killed in the explosion that destroyed the house at Godric's Hollow? What if there was no figure of hope for the British Wizarding Community to rally around, just a knowledge of the high cost of victory? And how will Matou Shinji, fresh come into his status as a wizard, adapt in a Hogwarts with no easy route to fame...or notoriety?With this, Shinji's preparations for heading to Britain are now complete. He has a wand, basic school supplies, and books to study - both of which he has a decent aptitude for, and by the time he receives a Portkey to take him to Kings Cross, he feels ready.
Chapter 24. Power and Perfidy
In his dreams, he stood triumphant over his foes in a city overrun with shadow and flame, as the smell of burning flesh and broken dreams wafted to his nostrils. After years of being looked down upon, years of being thought of as less than the dust of the earth, he had finally shown them – shown them all – what he was made of.
"Nii…san…" came a croak from the ground, as a blackened lump of charcoal moved, just a little bit. "Why…"
But he didn't answer, since speaking wasn't something a twisted incarnation of hatred was capable of, and even deigning to growl would have been an acknowledgement that the usurper had existed – perhaps even existed still.
"Why…?"
And then the lump of darkness went still, crumbling into ash, like the rest of Fuyuki City, the place he hated more than anywhere else in the world.
Why?
Where did he even begin?
As curse upon curse spilled from a tear in the world, a demon laughed and laughed and laughed, as—
Matou Shinji stirred, a painful groan escaping his lips as he raised his head from the…book it had been laying on.
'What…? Did I…?'
He'd fallen asleep while reading from Digging Two Graves, trying to glean the specifics of how certain curses functioned – without actually casting them – and as such, was quite sore from sleeping in a bad position.
'…and I thought this only happened in History…'
If Natsumi were here, no doubt she would scold him again, though actually, he wasn't sure what she'd scold him about. Falling asleep was one possibility, but…would she be ok with him studying curses? Would senpai?
'I don't actually know what senpai would think,' he realized, reflecting on the fact that Miyuki-senpai, the beautiful Hufflepuff who listened to his worries and soothed his fears, was also a figure of terror for a number of Ravenclaws – a dangerous person they didn't dare cross. 'Because that would mean that I understood her.'
And Matou Shinji didn't understand Tsuji Miyuki, not really.
He'd seen some parts of her that he didn't think she showed anyone else, yet he was also sure there was far more to her than he knew.
'Girls are complicated.'
…more complicated than things like curses, that was for sure, even if wrapping his mind around the concept that every curse was in some way a gift, and every gift a curse, did take a bit of doing. Or at least, that was the basic theory behind casting curses on oneself to gain power, say, in the tradition of the geasa of the Irish, or the geasan of the Scottish.
A full third of the curses in the books fell into that category, including the eponymous Digging Two Graves, a dual-state curse that the author of the book had devised. Shinji had found that one particularly interesting, given its abilities. In its passive state, it would keep one afflicted with it from consciously killing someone using magic, yet at the same time, would empower one's defensive magics and would take the life of anyone who killed the afflicted one. And in its active state, it could strike down anyone the cursed one chose, regardless of defenses – at the price of the cursed one's life.
'…an ultimate act of spite, I suppose.'
Not that Matou Shinji considered himself a particularly spiteful individual.
Well. Not as spiteful as some, even if he had good reason to be spiteful when it came to things like his siste—
The boy staggered to his feet, hand clutching his chest as a pulse of pure hatred raced through him, with shadows distorting around him.
'No.'
He…
'No.'
If he just…if he just gave in like this, then that…then that would mean…
Just then, there was a knock at the door, the sudden sound drawing his attention, and snapping him out of his murderous trance.
"Mister Matou. Are you decent?" came the voice of Amber Noel from the other side of the door.
"D-Decent?" Shinji echoed blankly. What did she…? He looked down, saw that he was still dressed and hadn't done something strange like manifest blade-like fingers or an aura of destruction, so, yes, he supposed he was. "Yeah…." He said weakly.
"Can I come in then?" she asked. "Or is the door locked?"
"C-come in," the boy offered, shaking his head. What...what was happening to him? Why was it getting harder to control these impulses?
The door swung open, and Amber walked in, clad in a dark blue jacket, white blouse, a plaid skirt and dark stockings – all in all, something that looked very much like a uniform, though the crest on the jacket wasn't one he was familiar with.
"…your old school uniform?" Shinji guessed, with the copper-haired girl nodding.
"I felt a little strange not wearing it this year, so I decided to wear it today," Amber commented, looking away. "What do you think?" she asked softly. "It doesn't look…strange, does it?"
"N-no. It-it suits you," the boy replied, looking down at his feet. "Ah, good morning."
Amber chuckled lightly.
"And a good morning to you, Mister Matou," the girl replied sweetly, though her expression turned more serious as she looked him over. "Still wearing the same thing as last night?"
"…I fell asleep while studying," Shinji admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Didn't manage to change."
"Heh. Nats said you had a bit of a problem staying awake in class, but I didn't think you'd fall asleep while just reading," the earl's daughter quipped. "Whatever am I going to do with you?"
"I don't know. What did you have in mind?" Shinji shot back, slightly tired of always being on the back foot whenever it came to dealing with Amber.
The girl blinked, surprised at his flippant query.
"Well, father and mother were planning are heading to London today to meet with various acquaintances," she said after a moment. "Since we have not spoken in some time, they wanted to offer Phelan and I chance to come to the City with them."
"Ah."
"Of course, I explained that since you were our guest, I couldn't very well just leave you by yourself," Amber continued. "That would be quite inhospitable."
"…quite."
He waited, sure that the earl's daughter would explain herself if he didn't say anything else, and sure enough, she did.
"He agreed that you could come with us, if you wished, and that since you were our guest, Phelan and I could show you around and not attend the…gathering," the girl continued.
"Ah."
"Don't get the wrong idea. I didn't go out of my way to ask for this because of you – just because it would have been rude to a guest. Do you understand?"
Shinji found himself smiling for the first time that day.
"Yes. I understand," he replied, stifling the urge to laugh. That…really did sound like something an ojou-sama would say, didn't it?
"Good. Then…is there anywhere you wanted to go? Assuming you didn't want to just stay here, that is."
"Well, uh…I've always wanted to visit the British Museum?" Shinji offered, saying the first thing that came to his mind.
"The British Museum?" Amber echoed, somewhat taken aback.
"…do you not want to?"
"It's not that I don't want to. I just didn't think you'd mention that place, that's all. Most foreigners don't really know about it. Even I've only ever gone because my school had considered it an educational activity, after all, not because I had any great love of such venerable institutions."
"Well…my mother's…father once worked there," the boy explained, relaying what Flitwick had mentioned.
"Your grandfather did?"
Shinji's face twitched at the word grandfather, but that was – fortunately – the only visible sign of his annoyance.
"…I suppose he would be that as well," the boy said stiffly, his body trembling. "Even if I've never met the man."
"Oh. I'm very sorry, Matou."
"Don't be. It's not like you could have known," he ground out. "Just…call it a whim, and accept it. Please?"
"…well, it's certainly worth visiting at least once," the earl's daughter noted with a nod. "And I suppose Phelan would enjoy it himself, since he's never been."
"Never, you say?" the boy from the east asked, startled by the frank admission. "Why is that?"
"Well, Father and Mother don't really like visiting the city more than they have to," Amber explained, with a grimace. "Father's always been fond of the countryside. The fresh air, the space, the pace at which things go - and he wanted Phelan to grow up without worrying too much about the city."
"Not you though?"
"Unlike Phelan, I went to boarding school for the last six years, mostly because Father thought it would be useful for me to get to know the heiress to the Tsuji Group," the copper-haired girl admitted.
"...to get to know Miyuki-senpai?" Shinji questioned, eyes widening.
"Mhm. The Tsuji Group is a pretty big name, you know? And since their heiress was just a year older than me, I was sent to school to befriend her," Amber noted with a small smile. "Do you know, those years with Nats and Lady Tsuji were some of the best years of my life…"
Her cheeks coloured prettily at that, with Shinji finding it startling how...relaxed Amber could be in the safety of her home, as opposed to at Hogwarts.
"I...didn't realize," the boy admitted. "My only time at boarding school before Hogwarts..." It had been unpleasant, but then, that was partially due to it being in a foreign country. "Let's just say I didn't enjoy it." He laughed powerlessly. "Though, if we're going into the city, maybe we should see if Natsumi and could join us?"
"Oh? You want to see Nats that badly, huh?" Amber teased. "Am I not enough? You'll make a girl jealous, you know."
"N-no! I-I didn't mean it like that!" Shinji stammered. "I just—she lives in London, right? Wouldn't it make sense for us all to spend time together?"
"Heh. Well, that makes sense," Amber conceded. "I'll see if she can come." She paused for a moment, as if considering something. "Selina as well, I suppose."
"Huh? But how will you…?" the boy asked, frowning. "I mean, you don't have an owl and…"
"The magic of the telephone," the earl's daughter quipped dryly.
Shinji nearly slapped his face in embarrassment.
"I. I knew that," he said stiffly. "I just – it's been a while. There aren't telephones at Hogwarts."
"That's true," Amber said with a chuckle. "I'll be off then."
With that the girl left, with Shinji taking advantage of her absence to go and shower and change out of his rumpled clothing so that he would look somewhat presentable.
When Shinji emerged from the bathroom, quite refreshed from his shower, Amber wasn't back yet, so he decided to sit down and read a bit from Digging Two Graves, this time focusing on the section on how to apply simple curses on inanimate objects, since casting destiny-altering spells was rather beyond him at the moment.
'Hopefully not forever…'
In the meantime, there were all sorts of ways in which innocuous seeming objects which held dreadful effects could be used to good effect, though it would probably be a good idea to learn what the law said about such things before he openly talked about them with anyone.
'Hm. The Flagrante curse seems interesting…'
It seemed one of the simpler ones too, and being simple, was often combined with other spells to great effect. For instance, one might couple it with Gemino and a sticking charm, so that a would-be thief would find themselves burned to death by a mountain of duplicates.
'Combining spells seems difficult though, and isn't exactly a beginner's technique.'
Lost in his reading, he didn't notice Amber come in – didn't notice her at all until she coughed politely to get his attention.
"A-h-hello again," the boy stammered, almost jumping at the sight of her, as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.
"Reading something interesting?" the copper-haired girl asked mildly.
"Eheh…I don't know whether you'd find it interesting…"
"Well, if you want to tell me—"
"Before that," Shinji interjected, his face somewhat flushed. "Did you hear from Natsumi? And Selina?"
"Heh." Amber made an odd sound, recognizing the boy's transparent attempt to evade the question, but decided to let him do to so, since if he was that uncomfortable, it might not be a good thing to press him. "Regretfully, Nats won't be able to join us, as she and her family will be busy with the UK Japan Festival."
There was a beat.
"…there's a Japan festival?" Shinji exclaimed, on his feet again, his eyes wide. "You mean…with Japanese food, and culture?"
"Yes. Apparently, there was even a sumo competition earlier this year."
"…I didn't know there was sumo outside of Japan."
"There wasn't until October."
"Huh."
"Natsumi's family is attending a reception at the Victoria and Albert Museum for the opening of the 'Visions of Japan' exhibit, though Nats recommended the Nihonga exhibit at the British Museum. Apparently, it covers traditional Japanese Painting."
"I-yes!" the boy gushed enthusiastically.
"Oh. Nats also mentioned that the Japan Society of London and the Japan-British Society, which had helped to put together the Japan Festival, are hosting a gala at the Victoria and Albert Museum for New Years, and wanted to know if either of us could come so she could get tickets."
"What did you tell her?"
"Well, I said I'd ask you first," Amber replied with a quirk of her lips. "After all, you are our guest, and it wouldn't be right to just assume things, now would it? So, what about it?"
"I…thank you. I'd love to," Shinji answered, thinking that it would be nice to be around other Japanese people after a term with the British.
"I'll let her know then," Amber noted. "Incidentally, Selina can come."
"She's not busy on an adventure with her brother and his party?" the boy from the east inquired. After all, he would be, if such a thing was available to him.
"Ah no. She said her brother had already set off on one some time ago, and that it wasn't as if she could join them along the way," the copper haired girl said wryly. "And when she heard we wanted to go to the museum, she was quite excited."
"Was she?"
"Mhm. History is one of her favorite things in the world," Amber commented, with Shinji nodding at this tidbit, as he was sure it could come in handy one of these days. "Incidentally, she also invited us to come with her to see Diagon Alley afterwards, since she was thinking about getting an owl."
"An owl?" Shinji echoed.
"So she can keep in touch with her pureblood friends, probably," the copper-haired girl reasoned. "Now, I'm not sure if the goblins would have sold our items so quickly, but there can't be any harm in checking, right?"
"Well…no, admittedly."
"Great! I guess it's a double date then," Amber teased, with Shinji going red at the girl's words. "You and me, and Phelan and Selina." She chuckled. "I know he likes her, since she's a bit of an adventurer, like he wants to be."
Shinji thought that he recalled Selina and Ernie going to a party together, but he decided not to mention it, lest things get...awkward. That, and Amber calling the outing a date made the boy quite flustered indeed.
Still, things could always be worse.
Such was a statement that Matou Shinji would learn to be true in a fateful encounter at the museum.
Shinji's first impression of Selina in casual, non-Hogwart uniform clothing was that the girl looked rather cute, if somewhat like a Victorian-era doll, in her all-black ensemble of frilly dress, ribbons and two locks of her blonde hair done up in ringlets.
'…it this goth loli?' he wondered, having heard of something like this back in Japan, though he imagined that since this was Britain, maybe a style like this was more common.
…though perhaps not in the countryside, if the way Phelan tried – and failed – to keep from obviously staring was any indication.
Since Selina mentioned visiting the museum fairly regularly in the past, the group had deferred to her wealth of experience. Unsurprisingly for someone who called herself an artificer, the first place she led them to was Gallery 44, the current home of the museum's horological collection.
'44, huh? I have a bad feeling about this,' Shinji thought to himself, but said nothing, since the number four being unlucky was just a Japanese superstition.
And to be fair, seeing examples of the devices humans created to help them keep time, from some of the earliest church and monastic creations to the more modern devices featuring atomic technology, was refreshing after Hogwarts, which was mired deep in the past, while the rest of the world tick-tocked merrily on, leaving them behind.
"As an artificer, I find it relaxing to be in this place, seeing these examples of the craft across the ages," the petite blonde commented, as the group found themselves standing before the Strasbourg Clock, dominating the entryway into the exhibit with its depictions of the virtues and the fates. "And too, how many of the things we see in times of peace were once used in times of war."
"Oh? Like what?" Phelan asked, curious about how clockwork of all things could be used for something like battle.
"Well, take the fusées used in wind-up clocks," Selina noted, closing her eyes and sighing. "Before they were used in clocks, they were used for winding crossbows, after all." She chuckled. "But then, if you want to talk about things of war..."
She led them over to what appeared to be a miniature galleon, covered in gold leaf, in its own display case.
"...is this supposed to be a clock?" Shinji asked, taken aback, as he didn't see a dial on it anywhere. "But...where are the hands?"
"Did you try the base of the mainmast?" Selina asked sweetly, with Shinji stiffening as he noticed the tiny clock face.
"How would you even use this?" the boy wondered, scratching the back of his head in puzzlement. "It seems like it would be inconvenient to read the time from there. You'd have to right next to it to see!"
"Oh, but you wouldn't be looking. You'd listen," the petite blonde explained with a mysterious smile. "To mark the hour - and every quarter hour - the little sailors in the crow's nests would ring the bells on the ship. And every 24 hours, once the main mechanism ran down, it would trigger another coil, sending it racing along a banquet table, with music playing as it did. And when it reached the end..." she trailed off meaningfully.
"...when it reached the end?" Phelan repeated, looking between the golden ship and the golden-haired girl. "What then?"
"Then it would fire its cannons."
"What." Phelan had a gobsmacked reaction on his face as he just stared at the model ship. "Fire its...how...?"
"It's an automaton. A contraption powered by clockwork," Selina replied with an impish smile. "First the bow chaser, ignited by a spark, which would then set off a long match, with the others firing off one after another. It was quite the start to banquets in the days of Kings and Emperors."
"...I want one," was Phelan's reaction, his eyes wide as he stared at the golden ship.
"Now now, brother," Amber began, somewhat alarmed at this. "I don't think these are made anymore. There can't be more than..."
"Three," Selina supplied helpfully.
"Three of these in the world, and I don't know of someone who would have the skills to craft one," Amber concluded, with a nod to the petite blonde. "Unless you think you can, Lady Selina?"
"...sadly, I am not of a level when I can craft such wondrous inventions quite yet," the blonde replied, to all appearances quite mournfully. "I would need more experience before even attempting such a thing."
"Yes, I'm sure you have yet to gain the tool expertise necessary," Amber noted wryly, with Selina's eyes widening fractionally as the copper-haired girl spoke.
"…you could say that, yes," Selina agreed, shaking her head. "It's not as if school is much help with that, is it?"
"No," the earl's daughter spoke, an air of regret in her voice. "It really isn't. Not that such stops Lady Tsuji, but she was always..." Amber sighed. "Exceptional."
"Well...what about a visit to Vertic Alley then?" Phelan suggested. "Surely it can't be too hard to have them make something like this, only with all of us instead of...whoever those gilded figures are on the deck."
"You mean the Holy Roman Emperor, and his Electors?" Selina inquired, slightly amused at how such famous figures in history were being dismissed so easily. Sic transit gloria mundi, indeed.
"Yeah. Him. Might as well have people like us," the earl's son repeated. "Like you and me, sis. Like Lady Selina here, and Matou. Like Ernie and Ronald. Nats and that...Sokaris girl she speaks of?"
"And Lady Tsuji," Amber added.
"...yes, fine. And the Lady Tsuji you're so mad about," Phelan grumbled good-naturedly, with Amber looking away.
"It would be nice, but...where would we put it?" the earl's daughter asked. "It's a bit much to put in one of our rooms or the dining room table. Besides, I think something like this would be far beyond whatever allowance Father is willing to give us. Something like this was made for Emperors after all, and the Earls of Gainsborough don't have an Emperor's ransom to offer."
"Eh, don't worry about the details, sister," the earl's son said enthusiastically. "I mean, surely it wouldn't be too expensive since it would be crafted via ma—"
Phelan glared as Shinji elbowed him in the ribs, shutting him up – just as a number of people walked by.
Shinji breathed a sigh of relief that the masquerade hadn't been broken here - in the very sanctum of the Association - by someone like Phelan, and was about to turn his attention back to his friends when his attention was drawn by another passerby.
A woman with lustrous crimson hair falling down to her knees, and wore only jeans and a white shirt, while carrying a rather large carrying case.
'And yet her features are Japanese.'
Red hair. The British Museum. Japanese.
'She looks...'
He wanted to say she looked familiar, only he didn't think he'd ever seen her before. Maybe he'd met a relative of hers, like a sist—
Matou Shinji's blood ran cold as the other's mutterings – something about accounts, no-good puppeteers, and having to kill a Dead Apostle – reached his ears.
'It can't be.'
And yet…it most likely was, given that he was standing in in the British Museum. In a gallery dedicated to the measure of time, with Phelan about to say the word magic.
'Speak of the devil, and—'
Before he could think of what to do, how to respond or act, the woman had made her way over to the group, her green-blue eyes fixed on the sole Japanese boy amongst them.
"Hey, you," she said, half playfully. "It's dangerous to just stare at people like that. You never know how they'll react, you know."
Shinji shivered, a fact that the crimson-haired woman before him didn't miss.
"Huh," she remarked. "That's strange. You recognize me, don't you?"
The boy swallowed.
"Only by reputation, Miss Aozaki," he said with a gallant bow, feeling a trickle of cold sweat race down his spine as one of the two living Magicians in the world stood before him.
"Heh. Am I that much of a troublemaker that even a runt like you has heard of me?" the Master of the Fifth Magic asked, with some self-deprecation in her voice.
"Ah, it's not the troublemaking part, but..." the boy groped for the right words, though he couldn't quite find them. "...your talents," he settled on eventually, trying not to meet her eyes lest he offend her.
"My...talents, you say?" the crimson-haired magician questioned, her voice quite dry indeed, seeing as Shinji, in attempting to not meet her eyes, had ended up looking straight ahead – at her chest. "And who are you to have heard of this talented me?"
"Matou Shinji, at your service," the boy supplied, coming to something very much like attention, though he couldn't keep himself from trembling.
"You only wish you were at my service," the Aozaki commented. She chuckled a few moments later, her curiosity satisfied. "You can relax, you know. It's not like I'm going to make you explode or something."
Shinji just nodded, not trusting himself to not make a fool of himself.
But then...
"...ah if…ah…if that's so…"
"Yes?"
"...any tips for where to go in London?" he hazarded. "It's my first time, and—"
"...nah, I don't stay in any one place too long. Always on the go, you know?"
"I didn't. But I see," Shinji stammered, swallowing. "Sorry to bother you."
"Not a bother really. Even if you're a hundred years too early to be speaking to me quite yet," the woman rejoined, though she nodded a moment later. "A word of advice: try not to run your mouth too much about that m word. I don't really care myself, but some of the others around here..."
She trailed off meaningfully, with Shinji almost falling over himself to nod.
"Noted," he croaked, as the woman walked off, seemingly in a somewhat better mood.
"Matou. Who was that?" Phelan asked, rather taken aback by Shinji's reactions to what had, to all appearances, simply been a beautiful woman.
"Oh, just someone who is even more of a monster than even me," the boy from the east whispered, his legs almost giving out in relief that nothing had happened. That he was still alive. "Other than that, nothing to worry about."
"…you're not much of a monster, Mister Matou," Amber quipped, whereupon Shinji just laughed. "Don't tell me, she's the type you prefer?"
"Eh? No. That's not it!" the boy said, still laughing at the absurdity of that.
…though it was true that meeting a Magician did put things in perspective, as no matter how much of a monster he became, he would never be quite as terrifying as someone like Miss Blue.
"…hey, are you ok, Matou?" Selina questioned, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady to nigh-hysterical boy. "Do you need a moment?"
"Haha…hahahaha…do I…do I need…"
It took a few minutes, but the boy finally managed to calm himself down, feeling rather awkward about his outburst once he did.
"…sorry," he said, his face red with shame once he returned to his senses.
"You know, you had us worried," Amber told him, with the boy looking down at his feet. "Besides, if she was that dangerous, why not let us know? You don't have to shoulder everything on your own. We're friends, aren't we?"
"I would have…if it would have done any good," Shinji replied with a shrug. "Let's just say when I think of the word wizard, its people like her that come to mind, and leave it at that, shall we?"
"…is that why you prefer being called a practitioner of witchcraft, even if it's so much more of a mouthful?" Amber inquired.
"Should we just call you a warlock instead?" Selina chimed in, with Shinji just nodding.
"Do as you like," Shinji huffed.
"Will do, Mister Warlock."
Shinji sighed and shook his head as he gestured for the group to move along, which they did after some time. And with the carelessness of youth, soon enough, the incident was behind them, with all of them chatting merrily with one another, and Phelan in particular being much like a child in a confectionary store at the sight of odd mechanisms, suits of armor, swords and the like.
"...you really do want to be a knight, don't you?" Shinji remarked, noting the attention the earl's son paid to swords and armor and other things of mayhem.
"Or maybe a pirate," Amber said offhandedly. "He did say something about sailing the high seas and the like, though piracy isn't quite as romantic as people describe it these days. How about you, Mister Matou? Did you ever want to be something odd when you were young and foolish?"
"Well...I did want to become a Magician before," Shinji admitted.
"Then you achieved your aim, right?" Phelan questioned. "You're a great magician, a disciple of an up and coming adventurer."
"...no," the boy from the east said in a sour tone. "I'm not a magician, and I probably never will be."
"Ah, yes, Governor Malfoy mentioned that to people of his sort, to be called magician is to be equated with a mere illusionist," Amber recalled. "Is that what you meant? That you would never be an illusionist."
"No. Look, I don't really want to talk about this," the boy groused, with the others looking at him with an expression of concern. "Not here, ok?"
"…if you say so, Matou."
Having had a close encounter with destruction, the boy was not in a particularly conversational mood, which was why, as the group made their way through the Japanese Painting Exhibit, and Shinji noticed a girl around his age with a rather distinctive head of bushy, brownish hair, ac companied by two adults – presumably her parents, who were speaking rather enthusiastically about the UK Japan Festival and how later, they would all be going out for sushi, he decided to simply walk by as if he hadn't seen her at all.
Maybe it was rude, but right now, he didn't want to see Granger's face.
To hear her shrill, unpleasant voice.
To deal with anything about her.
After all, this was supposed to be a holiday.
Still, as they continued onward through the collection and Selina smiled at him, encouraging him to share what he knew about the paintings, sculptures, and swords on exhibit, he did feel better – though whether that was because he felt more confident or because it was nice to be smiled at by a very pretty girl, he didn't quite know.
In one case, the group stood before a reconstruction of a teahouse, with Selina asking him to talk the group through what a tea ceremony was like.
To this he'd replied: "what kind of tea ceremony?"
After all, there were tea ceremonies based around matcha, just as there were those around sencha, with various schools surrounding each. And of course, depending on whether one was gathering for a chakai (茶会) or a chaji (茶事), things varied greatly, since the first was an informal, relatively simple course of hospitality that includes confections, thin tea, and perhaps a light meal, while the second was a much more formal affair that could last up to four hours.
Phelan had wrinkled his nose at this, as strangely enough, the earl's son was not one who enjoyed formality, but Amber had seemed intrigued, and had asked if Lady Tsuji was a practitioner of the way of tea, since she knew the older Hufflepuff often had a thermos of the substance on her.
"Maybe," Shinji had offered. "I wouldn't be surprised if she knew how, but I've never seen her perform a ceremony, so I couldn't really say."
Not that the thought of Miyuki-senpai in a furisode, preparing tea in a ceremony for two was at all unpleasant but…
Before his imagination could run rampant, the boy found his attention called back to reality by Phelan, who had caught sight of a display of swords - uchigatanas, tachis, wakizashis, tantos and more - and began excitedly asking about them.
And since he was the only Japanese person there, Shinji was tasked with answering the torrent of questions as best he could, an act which admittedly kept him from getting distracted or embarrassed as he spoke of the stories – and histories – he'd learned as a child.
Of Minamoto no Yoshitsune battling the bloodthirsty Benkei on Gojo Bridge;
Of Oda Nobunaga, the so-called Demon King of the Sixth Heaven, one of the great unifiers of Japan - and his betrayal by Akechi Mitsuhide at Honnō-ji;
Of Mori Ranmaru, the most loyal of Nobunaga's attendants, who - with his brothers - stood against the treacherous Mitsuhide to the last, choosing to lay down his life for his lord even in the face of impossible odds;
Of Ishikawa Goemon, an outlaw ninja who stole from the rich to feed the poor - and who, after failing to assassinate Toyotomi Hideyoshi, was boiled alive in a pot;
Of Okita Souji, captain of the first unit of the Shinsengumi, famed for being one of the last and greatest swordsmen of Japan, with a signature move allowing him to strike three points on the body simultaneously with a single thrust of his blade, yet who, for all his strength, was struck down not by blade or bullet, but bacteria;
Of Hijikata Toshizou, Vice-Commander of the Shinsengumi, cold-hearted enforcer of discipline among the elite unit - a man that not even the other sword masters of the Shinsengumi thought they could win against;
And of Sasaki Kojirou and Miyamoto Musashi, and their fateful duel.
Shinji even admitted that at one point in his life, the boy had wondered what it would have been like to live in an era where great heroes and villains roamed the world, as well as what they would think of the modern world, and all of its changes.
"It's silly to think about now, but I sometimes wonder what it would be like to meet Nobunaga," the Japanese boy said lightly. "What would he have thought about everything?"
"It's not silly at all," Phelan declared, his fist over his heart. "After all, I have always – always – wanted to meet the Once and Future King, to wield my sword beside him on the battlefield on the day of his glorious return."
"Wouldn't the return of King Arthur mean that a great calamity was about to descend on the earth, if Britain needed a King of Knights once more?" Selina questioned, with Phelan just shrugging, as he hadn't thought that far.
'And yet…with the world we're stepping into, the world we may soon become part of, not much has changed since times of old, has it?' Shinji wondered to himself. After all, Magical Britain was mired in the past, unable to advance beyond a few, superficial changes. 'A world where everyone relies on their personal strength, instead of devices and contraptions. A world where arts are still bandied about with impunity.'
Yet for all that, a world of humans still, with Wizarding Britain seeming very much like a small town whose population numbered only a few thousand.
A village, which saw everything beyond its borders, and those who did not share its traditions, as strange and untrustworthy. A society where those born into it from one of the longer lived lineages saw themselves nobility, keeping pure the traditions that had kept them safe for so many years. A world where monsters still roamed, because humans let them be.
Thankfully for Matou Shinji's sanity, his feelings of unease lessened once he stepped out of the British Museum. Perhaps it had been his imagination, but the boy had felt as if someone – or something – had been watching him the entire time he'd been walking about with his friends.
Honestly, he wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been monitored, given his encounter with the Magician, since anyone an individual like that interacted with would probably be noted by those in the Tower.
'Or maybe I was just hungry since I didn't eat very much at breakfast.'
That was the competing theory, which he felt had to be given some credence, given that his unease disappeared entirely after stuffing himself at an Indian Buffet that Selina had recommended (at which he learned the differences between Japanese and Indian curry in quite great detail).
As he stepped into the Leaky Cauldron though, his unease returned when he saw people looking at him – and his group of friends, as if they were an unusual sight.
'Why…why are they looking at me?'
He wasn't wearing anything weird after all, or…
Were they looking at Selina? Or Phelan in his leather jacket and jeans? Amber, in her blazer and skirt?
'…no. They're looking at all of us. But why?'
The reason for the staring became apparent when Amber walked up to the bartender, Old Tom, and asked if he could help them get to Diagon Alley.
"Can it be you don't have your wands?" Old Tom asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the group, as if he thought some of them might be Muggles. "Any of you?"
"Not today," the copper-haired girl replied. "Last time we came through, we'd just come from Hogwarts. With this being the holidays, and us going on an adventure through Muggle London, wands would be a bit inconvenient, no?"
Especially since, thanks to the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, none of them were allowed to use magic anyway.
"Well. I suppose I do remember you, lassie," the bartender said, relenting. "But this is the only time I'm doing you this kindness. Don't be forgetting your wands in the future."
With that admonition, the man tapped out the pattern on the brick wall of the tavern, opening the path to Diagon Alley, and the group stepped through, out of the dingy bar and into the bustling streets of Magical London.
"So…you came here after leaving the train?" Selina asked curiously.
"Mister Matou needed some new clothes," Amber commented, with Shinji going red as he remembered all the things the copper-haired girl had made him try on – and how he'd ended up spending close to 500 Galleons – 2500 British Pounds – on said clothing. "And we wanted to do some Christmas shopping."
"Ah. That's right. I should get some presents for my brother and his friends," the blonde realized, frowning. "…I do hope I brought enough money for that."
"If you wish, I could cover your expenses for today," Phelan offered gallantly. "After all, it would shame this knight if he allowed a poor damsel to fall into distress."
As Amber muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "here we go again", Shinji let her know that he would be heading to Vertic Alley to drop by the goblin-run auction hall.
"Come find us when you're done, Mister Matou," the copper-haired girl said, with Shinji nodding and wandering off.
It was a quick walk over to the auction hall, and this time, he wasn't ignored, but when he checked with Snickersnack, the goblin on duty, about the item he'd put up for sale…
"There is no such item waiting to be sold, nor has such lot been auctioned."
"What?!" the boy exclaimed, wide-eyed. "B-but how can this be? I gave it to you all yesterday!"
"Did you?" Snickersnack inquired, peering at the boy's glowering face. "Are you quite sure?"
"Quite," Shinji ground out. "Could you check again, please?
"Ah, wizards. So excitable," Snickersnack grumbled, flipping open a ledger and skimming over a number of entries. "Ah. I see. It was purchased this morning, by one of our…preferred customers." The diminutive humanoid chuckled, a low, wheezing sound that made the boy wonder if it had some chronic lung disease. "A pity."
"A...pity?" Shinji repeated. "What do you—"
"Why, since it didn't go to auction, then I must assume that whatever deal you negotiated for proceeds from said auction is now null and void, yes?" the goblin asked him, his smile showing off a mouth full of yellow teeth.
Shinji felt a surge of raw, bitter rage welling up in him at the temerity of this…cheat, this swindler, this creature who sought to defraud him of what was rightfully his. He…he would…
"...unless your contract says otherwise?" Snickersnack inquired solicitously, with the goblin seeming bored out of its mind as it looked at him. "Do you have it on you?"
"I uh…no?"
"Then I cannot even begin to help you," the goblin said with finality. "If you wish to persist in this useless questioning, you must speak to Gimblegyre at the bank, as he would have your contract on file." The other huffed. "I simply manage sales."
Before the boy fell victim to a murderous impulse, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the auction house, over to Gringotts in an attempt to get to the bottom of this mess.
'And if they cheat me…I'll make them all PAY.'
He barged through the doors, ready to let the leash slip on his temper and reduce the building to a smoking crater should they play any more games with him, but to his surprise, the teller he spoke to brought him to Gimblegyre immediately.
Gimblegyre himself, who Shinji recalled as being far more pleasant to deal with than Snickersnack, welcomed the boy, informing him that his share of the proceeds from the sale, some 60000 Galleons, had been deposited in his account without trouble and thanking him for making use of Gringotts' auction services.
'Huh?'
"What." But…the goblin at the auction house had… "What do you mean, it's been deposited into my account?"
"We...apologize if young Snickersnack has caused offense," Gimblegyre said with something close to a sigh. "He is, after all, our newest associate, and not used to...your kind yet."
"I see," Shinji noted, his rage mostly subsiding at the account manager's frank words. "Then, I would like to make a withdraw, if that's quite alright?"
"Feel free," the account manager replied expansively. "Before you do, however, allow me to share with you some of the offers we give to our...preferred customers."
'Huh?'
"I'm a preferred customer already? So soon?" the boy asked, confused. "Has there…has there been some mistake?"
"It isn't how long you've been a client that matters, Mister Matou," the goblin said bluntly. "It's the size of your account."
"...ah. And 60,000 Galleons is large enough for me to be a preferred customer."
"Indeed. About twice as much as the minimum threshold."
How unexpectedly forthright.
"Before you decide on a withdrawal amount, however, allow me to share with you some of the special opportunities that we make available to our preferred customers," Gimblegyre grunted, handing him four sheets of paper.
On each was a description of some good or service far out of reach for the ordinary wizard.
The first described a property that had not yet gone on the market – an elegantly appointed country cottage that was fully furnished, and still connected to the Floo Network. Apparently, the goblins would rather avoid some of the usual listing fees required from the Ministry, as well as the trouble of notifying the Department of Magical Transportation (and others) about the intended sale, or that of arranging visits for prospective buyers.
'I didn't expect a magical world to be so…practical,' Shinji thought to himself, feeling amused. 'I guess they want to cut out the middleman.'
According to the details, what was on offer wasn't a mansion by any means, but it was certainly comfortable enough to be one, even by the standards of the well-to-do, with all the modern amenities and tastefully landscaped grounds one might expect.
'And it even comes with a House Elf, if I purchase before Christmas,' the boy noted, his eyes widening as his eyes passed over a note regarding how the Ministry did not monitor households with registered House Elves for underage magic. '…huh. Tempting. But is it tempting enough to spend 30,000 Galleons?'
That was the question.
The second sheet was an investment opportunity provided by the Nimbus Racing Broom Company. Apparently, they were preparing to begin production on the Nimbus 2001, a truly "world-class" broom, offering speed and control unmatched by any broom currently available in Western Europe. The company sought 10,000 Galleons to complete the facilities needed for the production run, and as compensation, was offering the first ten brooms off of the production line, with certificates of authenticity and lifetime warranties provided.
'Hmm. One broom per thousand galleons, huh? I'll have to think about that.'
He didn't much like flying, but it could be a sound opportunity. He just didn't know enough to ask, really.
Moving onto the third, he found that it was a sheet from a shop called The Duelist's Wardrobe, located on Horizont Alley, which specialized in bespoke garments for duelists and the well-to-do.
'…this is kind of taking "clothes make the man" to a whole new level.'
Though…there was some truth to the saying, Shinji mused, given that in his old clothes, he had been considered hired help, while in the garments he'd gotten from Vertic Alley, he at least was seen as someone who deserved a hearing.
Apparently, The Duelist's Wardrobe was offering a full wardrobe of clothing, including several dress robes, a fine winter cloak, a range of clothes for day and evening wear in different situations, even underwear enchanted to keep one comfortable in climes other suffer deeply in for a mere 5000 Galleons. A bargain for any sophisticated wizard of both means and taste.
'…a bargain? Really?'
And then there was a sheet about tickets to the Minister's Ball, which was apparently a tradition for the well-to-do of Magical Britain. Every New Year's Eve, the Ministry offered the people of Magical Britain a chance to hobnob with the Minister, his Undersecretaries and the members of the Wizengamot, as a way for the common folk to voice their concerns and meet the people who ran their world.
…assuming they could afford the price of admission, which was either 1500 Galleons per ticket (or 2000 for 2) for regular tickets, and an eye-watering 4500 Galleons per ticket for VIP access.
'…uh. What. Why would I even…?'
Even a regular ticket seemed like an obscene amount of money to spend on an event, though he supposed a number of people had to pay for tickets each year, as it wouldn't be a tradition otherwise.
'But who would even go to something like this?'
The face of Amber Noel came unbidden to his mind, followed by that of one Lucius Malfoy.
'Well. Yes. Those two probably would, assuming they knew about it.'
"…I'm almost afraid to ask, but is there anything else?" Shinji asked.
"We do have other opportunities, but we believe that with your current funds and connections, these are likely to be the ones which interest you most," Gimblegyre related professionally. "Were there any that you were interested in?"
"Uh…" Shinji looked down at the sheets, not sure what he wanted to choose. "Do I have to choose right now?"
"No, of course not. That would be an unreasonable thing to ask," Gimblegyre replied. "However, you will need to your interest or lack thereof by the day after...Christmas, as you wizards put it."
"…I can do that," the boy stated, shaking his head. "Can I keep these briefing sheets?"
"Do as you like," the accounts manager stated. "Now, have you decided how much you wish to withdraw?"
"Two thousand Galleons, I think," Shinji said, shaking his head.
"Very well - shall we record this as your standard request each time you visit Gringotts?" the goblin inquired, with Shinji thinking it over for a moment before nodding. "Excellent. Is there anything else we of Gringotts may do to assist you?"
"...that depends," the boy replied after a moment.
"Yes?"
"I have heard that the goblins once made...fine weapons," Shinji said finally. "And that they are the masters of metalworking in the magical world."
Perhaps that was laying it on a bit thick, but Shinji didn't think that most beings would be insulted by a bit of flattery.
Quite the opposite, in fact, in his experience.
"And you wish to commission a sword?" the goblin account manager asked, a detached, almost clinical expression on his face, as if he'd heard this one before. "Or some other display of goblin metalwork."
"...I was thinking about a knife, actually," the boy corrected, frowning at the goblin's presumption. "Well, something like a dagger."
"Hm. More practical than what some have asked for," the goblin admitted grudgingly. "What type of dagger did you have in mind?"
"Well…"
Shinji thought about the types of knives or daggers that he'd seen and read about, and what he might find useful. He already had a basic utility knife, since he'd had to buy one for Potions, so he didn't think getting another one would be too useful, but…
"How about a throwing knife?" the boy asked. "The length of…oh, a wand?"
Gimblegyre just looked at him.
"A knife the length of a wand may as well be a short sword," the goblin said dryly. "But I suppose that is possible. But a throwing knife…?" Gimblegyre peered at the boy more intently. "Do you practice knife-throwing?"
"…no?"
The goblin made a small sound that might have been a sigh or a snort of disgruntlement.
"Well, you are the customer," the account manager noted placidly. "Will you be desiring some measure of enchantment or...?"
"...no, that's fine," Shinji said quickly. "Just the knife is enough."
"Very well. I will deduct an additional five hundred galleons from your balance, then?"
"Yes. Fair enough."
With that, Shinji's business was all but concluded, as a goblin brought him the money he'd requested, and he was about to go, when—
"If I may, young wizard…?" Gimblegyre's voice followed him.
"…yes?"
"You may wish to consider buying a scabbard for that knife of yours. And perhaps a holster for your wand, if you have any desire to use them…practically," the goblin rasped. "Should you simply wish a blade for ornamentation, feel free to disregard my advice. Wizards so often do, after all."
As he left Gringotts, flush with funds, Shinji found that Gimblegyre's suggestion stayed with him, with the boy mulling over what practitioners of witchcraft tended to do with their wands when they weren't using them, or indeed, other weapons.
Mostly, from what he'd seen, people kept their wands in an inside pocket of their robes, or in their back pocket for quick access, if they carried them on their person. Otherwise, they would just put their wands in their bags, or by their bedside.
'That's not very…practical,' the boy thought to himself.
After all, for those who sought to be duelists – or to look the part – it was important to have one's implement always close at hand, while not keeping the owner from having free use of their hands (for the situations when they weren't currently dueling).
So he found himself back in Vertic Alley, looking for a place that looked like it might offer a good deal on wand holsters and other related products.
There were a few shops, none really with prices better than another, and all of them willing to speak about the wares they crafted.
Mostly, what they offered came down to three basic sorts of products:
Holsters of cloth, meant to be worn on the inside of the arm, inside one's robes, into which one could slot a wand.
Holsters of leather, bulkier than those of cloth, which could be modified so that a twist-snap motion would let the wand drop easily into the wand hand.
Holsters made of exotic materials, with various additional features beyond those offered by those wrought of the more pedestrian materials.
And when he asked, the shopkeepers were more than happy to discuss a wide range of customization options, such as enchantments to make the holster invisible, charms which allowed only the person who had bought the holster to remove a wand from it, or anti-theft features which cursed anyone who stole a holster from the owner. Some higher-end holsters were more like spell-resistant bracers or gauntlets, and could accommodate knives, lenses, or other ritual tools. Some incorporated the features of a probity probe or a sneakoscope. And some, at the very highest end, even could function like a two-way mirror, allowing one to communicate with a partner wearing a paired counterpart.
He dithered and dallied, and groused (and moaned about the cost), but in the end, agreed to buy a number of holsters – partially because he wanted to get gifts for his friends, and partially because the shops had a buy one get one some percentage off deal.
For himself, two bracer-variants: one wrought of basilisk skin, and one of wyvern-hide, each with a number of useful modifications, like anti-theft functionality and communication functions. His basilisk skin holster was even capable of storing something like a throwing knife safely, and had some features that would allow a duplicate knife to come into his hand while preserving the original.
For Miyuki-senpai, a basilisk skin holster exactly like the one he'd bought for himself – and paired with it, so he could always reach her.
For Natsumi, a wyvern-hide bracer like the one he'd bought for himself – and why not, since she was his closest friend.
For each of the Noel twins, a holster made of leather, with enchantments to make them more durable and render them – and the wands they contained – invisible when worn, plus the duelist modification so they could access their wands with a quick snap-twist.
And for Selina and Ernie, a holster made of leather without the duelist modification.
He was given a receipt in writing and told they would arrive in time for Christmas – after which he left Vertic Alley quite a bit (1280 Galleons) poorer than when he set food in it.
On the bright side, it wasn't as if he had to pay for Selina's purchases today, since Phelan had already offered, though the petite blonde just ended up buying a barn owl for herself at the low, low price of 10 galleons, along with a few books to give as gifts, and some sweets, for a total of 50 galleons.
As such, he ended up buying some gifts for some of the people back at home.
For instance, a Fire Crab for Tohsaka, a toad for his…sister and Lacewing Flies for his grandfather.
And since he didn't want to be caught unarmed, he decided to make an additional stop at Ollivanders, where the silvery eyed man sold him a curious wand of wrought of holly, with a phoenix feather core.