Me: This was a very emotional chapter to write. I listened to the Music Box version of 'Simple and Clean', 'This is War' by 30 Seconds to Mars and 'Paradise' by Coldplay. I hope that you will listen to these songs while reading my fanfic, as they are what prompted me to write this so early. 'Simple and Clean' (the music box version) gave this chapter the 'I miss my family and friends' feel. 'This is War' represented Yuri's inner struggle to live and to keep fighting. 'Paradise' was the promise of death and how difficult it is to escape the call to just let go.

It's said that before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. I always wondered if I would remember my past lives as well, if I was ever put in that situation. Taking the fact that I am a King, it is very likely to be assassinated or killed in battle, so I had contemplated what would happen if I died multiple times.

Suffice it to say, my life did not flash before my eyes. I did remember, however, an instance when I had asked my parents their thoughts on death and reincarnation. It was probably one of the most valuable lessons I ever got from my father. He didn't give many out, preferring to let his wife do the talking, but when he did Shori and I always knew that it was important and to remember them whole-heartedly.

I remembered what my mother used to tell me about death. She didn't say that it was anything to be afraid of, or to avoid it at all costs. She didn't say that it was peaceful or painful, just that it was unavoidable. That I shouldn't dwell on it, just like I don't dwell on why I have to eat or sleep.

My dad said something slightly different. We had never gone over the subject until after I had become King but I knew that this subject had crossed his mind more then once when we sat down and talked.

"We're Demons, son. We don't necessarily die. We can't. Instead we are reincarnated. That is why death is different for us. We don't really 'die', we simply preserver."

I thought about it for a second, rolling over the thought in my mind. "What about humans? Or Half-Demons? I mean, where do their souls go if they're not reincarnated?"

My father paused, looked down into his cup of tea in thought, "To be honest, I don't know. But ever since I've been with your mother, I've wondered about that." Taking a sip, I just watch him look out the open door of our living room and into the backyard where my mother was hanging up the wet laundry. "I think . . .that some human souls are reincarnated. Only the strong ones, though. The ones that have little regrets in their lives." I tilted my head in thought, urging Dad, mentally, to go on. "It's very rare for a Demon to have many regrets. Oh, we have them, to be sure. But we live much too long to hold onto regrets that matter very little by the time we die. I also think there is something in our blood that keeps us from regretting. Something that tells us, 'Don't worry, it'll resolve itself in time.'."

I hummed, taking a sip of my own tea and turned my head to look at Mom. The wrinkles on her face were just starting to become prominent, as a few grey hairs were slipping into her chestnut hair. She was strong. Probably the strongest woman I knew. She would be reincarnated. "So, our souls aren't that different after all. It's just how our experiences are . . . ?" I half-said, half-asked my dad.

Shouma Shibuya shook his head gently and smiled, "Yes and no. Yes, I don't think our souls are that different from humans. Actually, I think the only reason we can see them physically compared to a human's is because of the Elemental Contracts we undergo. No, I don't think it's about our experiences, it's about our regrets and whether or not we've come of to terms with them. Of course, you can do this at any age with any amount of experience, so that is irrelevant." He took another sip of his steaming tea, closing his eyes as he did so.

I set down my own tea and leaned back so that I was propped on the palms of my hands, leaning my head back to look at the ceiling. "So . . .if I died tomorrow and had no regrets . . .I would most likely be reincarnated?" I was more talking to myself then anything, but I was startled when I heard the slam of a cup on a table.

I straitened myself out and stared at my dad, who held a stern expression on his face with one hand gripping his teacup. "Don't think like that Yuri." He told me firmly, but I could hear his tone holding some worry. "There have been many Demons in the past who held the belief that they had no regrets and lived their lives recklessly. Dying, only to discover that they have regretted something." I nodded, stunned that my father would be so concerned about this. His expression softened and he released his half-full cup. "Promise me, son. That if you find yourself dying and there's a chance you can live, hold on to those regrets so that you may continue living. As long as the body is willing, it will keep your soul safe for you."

I wondered what my mom and dad would say if they found out I had died. Mom would probably still put an extra plate on the table at dinner. If only to make it seem like I was still there. I smiled at the thought of her homemade curry and wondered if I would every try it again. Dad would probably visit my grave every week. Nothing dramatic or special like a funeral or on my death day. Probably just to chat and remind me to remember my mother's daily, weird lessons.

Shori would . . .Shori would probably lock himself in his room even more. He would probably drown himself in work. I could imagine Gwendal doing the same. Gunter would cry his heart out. Wolfram would deny it, saying that I would be too much of a wimp to just up and die, before finally breaking down and make terrible art for a week. Conrad would . . .I don't know what Conrad would do. Probably go on with his duties while Yosak would talk to him about random moments we had shared together and Greta . . .oh Greta . . . .She would have to grow up without her Papa. I wouldn't see her grow up to become a beautiful woman. I wouldn't be able to fight off all the boys that came after her. I wouldn't be able to finally (and grudgingly) watch her get married.

The Kingdom would probably mourn before moving on. Wolfram would be a good King. He was always noble and proper, if a bit rude and snooty. The allied Kingdoms would pay their respects . . . .

But . . . I . . .I would miss everyone. I would miss hearing Gunter's lessons, tasting Mom's curry, baking with Greta, watching Gwendal knit, runing away from Annissina when one of her crazy experiments went wild, walking around the Kingdom in disguise, Wolfram's snores, getting the occasional life lesson from Dad and even getting one of Shori's lectures. I would miss it all.

And I regretted not relishing in those moments when I had them.

Green light had filled my vision, obscuring the mad man from view and everything else around me. I could feel my soul being cut and pulled away from my body, something that made me tremble and grow cold. Forcing my eyes to look down at where the spell hit me, I could see my soul leaving my body. I grasped it, feeling warmer already, before attempting to push it back in. It wouldn't budge, instead it stayed lodged in the middle.

My memories of my family past through my eyes, but somehow it wasn't enough. My soul stubbornly stayed where it was. I tried to think of something else. Anything else. That would ensure that I could keep living.

A pair of sad, almond-shaped green eyes came to the forefront of my mind and vision. A strange sense of nostalgia came over me, but I couldn't place where it was coming from in my haze. The eyes belonged to a woman with deep auburn hair and a sweet smile that only a mother could hold. I tilted my head in confusion as she said something I couldn't hear, but could sense was important.

My line of sight drifted to the person standing behind the strange woman. Familiar messy black hair and hazel eyes made me wonder who exactly were these people. The man contained a pair of well-used glasses and an undertone of mischief in his stance. He said something to the woman, who only smiled and shook her head. She repeated whatever she was saying to me, with me still rendered deaf to their words, but the meaning came across loud and clear. I nodded at her with a promise and set determination before concentrating back on my task.

I close my eyes and tried to push harder with what little strength I had. I thought about my regrets. The moments I shared with my family and wished with all my might to live. The soul pushed back feebly, but the spell could only do so much. I pushed and wished even harder, feeling my soul reinsert itself in my body and my life return to me.

At the end of it, I could feel a sharp pain and a burning sensation where my soul had come out and went back in. I breathed once before falling completely on my back, unconscious, the woman's voice finally reaching me in my moment of ultimate weakness.

'Please. Take care of him, Your Highness.'

Me: 'Simple and Clean' (the music box version) gave this chapter the 'I miss my family and friends' feel. 'This is War' represented Yuri's inner struggle to live and to keep fighting. 'Paradise' was the promise of death and how difficult it is to escape the call to just let go. These really helped me feel the emotions that I could imagine Yuri was experiencing at the time, I just hope I was able to convey them in words.

A Demon's Magic - Deleted Scene

Me: I really wanted to put this deleted scene in. But it just didn't coincide with Yuri's stubbornness about not returning to potions class after the punching incident. Unfortunately, Harry had to brave Snape alone in the real fanfic. Also, I found Dumbledore too OOC to put this in. Yet, I was also extremely and unnecessarily proud of writing this. Not sure why. In the end, it just didn't fit with the plot and left too many holes to fill, so I left it out, but I am now giving it to you for your viewing pleasure.

Witch Weekly was a terrible magazine in my opinion. I read over the stupid article again and again, rolling my eyes at the sheer stupidity of it and wondering if the Wizarding Society really thought it was all that special. I mean, Hermione was fourteen, not forty. It was almost like these people had nothing better on their hands. Even Muggle magazines weren't this full of blatant propaganda.

I watched with amusement as Harry, Ron and Hermione all chatted over their copy of the article. I really didn't want to go to Potions class with the bigoted teacher, but after reading that stupid magazine, I knew that I couldn't leave the Golden Trio alone.

Snape was all too happy to prove my point by coming over to our table. I quickly snatched their magazine and stuffed it into a random bag, not caring whose it was. The trio looked at me before shutting up at Snape came into view. "Weasley, Granger, Potter and . . .Shibuya." I smiled pleasantly before returning to 'organizing' my potion ingredients. "As I couldn't help but notice you talking about your social lives, I am deeming fit to take ten point from Gryffindor." I almost face-palmed when Harry and Ron rolled their eyes. "Disrespecting a teacher, another ten points. And I think I will separate you, as according to the article this morning there seems to be a tangled . . .romance between you three." I could see Harry's ears burn a deep read as the Slytherins laughed out something fierce.

"Professor," I said in a calm voice, feeling my magic swirl underneath my anger, "Surely, an understanding man such as yourself can tell that the propaganda of the press is not always true." Snape's black gaze returned to me. I, in turn, stared back. At the strange contest, I felt a strange sensation tingle as the furthest reaches of my mind. I tried to shake it off but it came a little more insistently. This time, I blocked it. I was still able to feel it, but it couldn't touch my mind anymore.

I tried to search Murata's memories for an answer to this sensation. Coming up with only one thing, I glared even harder at my so-called 'professor'. "Mr. Snape," I started in a hard voice, "I trust you know that your mind-games are borderline illegal." Startled, the greasy-haired man stepped back with a sneer.

"Potter!" He called, looked back at Harry. "To the front of the class with . . .Mr. Shibuya. Weasley, Granger, stay here." I glanced over to a pair of green eyes that were boring into me. Smiling, I put my potions ingredients into my bag and slung it over my shoulder before heading to the front of the class.

I watched as Snape sneered a few more things to Harry, putting a shoulder on my friend's shoulder to calm him down. It wasn't long before Snape turned to me and spouted a few more nasty things. Of course, I had heard worse. Instead, I ignored him and continued to calmly cut up my ginger roots. "Professor Snape," I interrupted, "Haven't you learned as a child that if you cannot say anything nice, then do not say anything at all?" Before the man could open his mouth, I interrupted, "Don't try to take points off, it won't work seeing as how I'm not in a House." I sighed as his big nose was increasingly turning red, "As for Harry being a 'nasty little boy who considers rules to be beneath him', I've always known Harry to follow quite a few rules and I am wondering if you are not mistaking him for someone else."

At his flinch, I knew that I touched a nerve. I was glad that I talked to Dumbledore about Snape before coming to class today.

~Flashback~

"Headmaster," I said, walking into the office slowly. I had been watching a few people over the last few days, unsure what to make of them. Snape, in particular, was a mystery. It was obvious that he held a deep hatred for Harry, but I couldn't understand why. It almost seemed like he was seeing someone else in Harry. "I want to talk about one of your professors."

The old man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, "This is about Professor Snape, I presume?" At my nod, the old wizard continued, but not before conjuring a chair, "Severus, has not had an easy life." I almost rolled my eyes. That was the understatement of the century, "The one good thing in his life, was taken away, by none other then Harry's father, James."

I shook my head, already knowing about the uncanny resemblance between Harry and his father. Of course, it was also obvious that Harry's personality was nothing like James's but it seemed like there was nobody who knew James to look beyond that. "And so, he hates Harry because he looks like the man that took something from him." I sighed and leaned into the conjured chair. I was in deep thought about this entire situation, before coming up with the one question that bothered me, "Why are you telling me all this?"

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes diminished a little before he laid his hands down on the table, "I'm getting old, Mr. Shibuya. Although, people look to me as a leader, I will be the first to admit that I am stuck in my ways and find it difficult to do things out of the realm of my own imagination." I looked over his old frame, watching as he shook his own head was seemed like a dozen times, "You, however, are also a leader. You are young and you are accepting and forgiving. More so then this old man. I have heard stories from your Godfather of your naivety getting through the most heartless of people and turning them around. I do not know the details, but I sense a great power in you and I have faith that you are as good of a leader as Mr. Murata keeps telling me."

I was dumbstruck. Scratching my head, I tried to get over the amount of praise I was receiving from one of the wisest people I had ever met. "I . . .really don't know what to say to that. I'm sure that everyone was just over-exaggerating. I'm really not that special."

I watched as Dumbledore's long white beard trembled in his chuckles of amusement. "Nevertheless, I feel that, in the case of where I failed, you will succeed." Tired blue eyes caught my own and I almost cried at the helplessness held within them, "Please, heal Severus. I believe the only way he can get over his hatred of Harry, is for him to let go of the past. Something, I fear, that I will never be able to help him do."

~Flashback End~

By the time I was done daydreaming, Snape was recovered and was about to spout something else when there was a knock on the dungeon door.

"Enter," Snape said in his usual tone as Karkaroff stormed in. I watched with narrow eyes as the two teachers exchanged words with one another. Before Karkaroff was shooed into waiting for class to end. As the end of class was approaching, I watched as Harry knocked over a bottle of . . .something before ducking behind his cauldron. I sighed, not really wanting to leave Harry alone but also not wanting to stay, I decided to help Harry clean up.

We both slowly cleaned, Harry glancing at me as I motioned for him to keep his head down.

"What's so urgent?" Snape hissed.

"This," Karkaroff said, "Well? Do you see it? It's never been this clear, never since—"

"Put it away!" snarled Snape.

Before Snape could call out to us. I quickly cleaned up the rest of whatever it was Harry dropped before hurrying him out of the room with all our stuff.

"What was that?"

I glanced over at my friend before shrugging and continuing on. "Probably nothing." We both knew I was lying.