Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory

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: It is a dark time for Matou Shinji. Though his performance at the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship was certainly impressive, his achievement was not without cost, as his actions in publicly using the Killing Curse, acting as a spy for Durmstrang, and otherwise defying British Law have finally caught up with him. On the cusp of being outmaneuvered by the authorities, the lone rebel bargains for a last-minute reprieve, gambling his life and freedom on hope of singlehandedly facing down the forces of an invading army. Yet, in the coming conflict, the boy who calls himself Matou Shinji will soon learn that the line between friend and foe very easily blurs, and that even victory carries a hefty price.


Chapter 13. Unknown Unknowns

Matou Shinji sat in the darkness of his room, enjoying a last few moments by himself – as himself, before he slipped once again into the persona he would be using for the next month or so: Nines, derived from the Latin non esse (not-being).

'It's a little like using Nobody as a nom de guerre,' he mused, his lips twitching upwards slightly as he remembered the tale of Odysseus, the cleverest of the heroes of old (as least in his opinion). 'Only I'm not fighting monsters exactly.'

No, indeed. He was a monster wearing the face of a man long dead, a boy who lived on only in habit and memory. And now he was about to hide what little remained of who he once was under a false face and name, a mask with a different past and vastly different habits, all for the sake of a mission.

Not for the first time, the boy sighed, wondering if he was doing the right thing.

'Am I really cut out for this?' he thought to himself. 'I've never really been much of a leader. Not really. Most of what I've done, I've done on my own. The one time I really led something before this…it went poorly.'

That brief stint as a leader, as he recalled, had been during the mission to capture a tanuki who was wreaking havoc while wearing another's face and name. The very same entity who was now one of his subordinates – and if he was being honest with himself – probably the most competent and best adjusted individual on the squad, since it wasn't him, and it wasn't…his other squadmate.

'I just have to trust that Lockhart knows what he's doing.'

That and keep from mentioning anything that a mercenary who had only recently come to Albion wouldn't be aware of – something easier said than done, given that the boy knew he had a bit of a temper.

'I have to put aside how Matou Shinji would feel. How Matou Shinji would react. How Matou Shinji would think. In a way, it's like dying all over again – and this time, for stakes not nearly as high as when I faced the avatar of an Outer God.'

No. Instead all he had to do was face Hermione Granger and convince her to abandon WADA for somewhere…better protected.

The thought brought an odd smile to his face, with the boy laughing softly as he shook his head. He'd always been better at destroying things than protecting them, and now he was being asked to do this? Well, nothing to be done but to prepare, he supposed. Soon it would be dawn, and with the start of the new day, his mission would begin.

Hilde, of course, was already out and about taking care of her part of the plan, and Rin…well, it wouldn't take much for her to play the part of a half-Finnish mercenary who had joined up with Albion's armed forces in the wake of the Ministry's withdrawal from London. Granted, when he'd first called her Lumi Edelfelt, he'd just been pulling a name from the top of his head, since the Edelfelts were infamous in the Moonlit World as the hyenas of the battlefield, but having actually met a daughter of the Edelfelt family, he thought the ruse might actually work.

…so long as he made sure that Miss Luviagelita didn't find out about this (which he was hopeful of, as this was a low-profile operation), or at least, if she did, considered this something to laugh about as opposed to take offense to. The heavens only knew that he'd gotten into trouble for presuming on the authority of others before.

'Sokaris warned me about my habit of doing that, and I'm trying to change. I am,' he told himself. 'Really.' Not that even he was sure if he was trying, or just trying to convince himself that he was. Either way, he had to stop distracting himself with unnecessary thoughts and focus. 'Right. Equipment. I needed to pick out equipment.'

He would wear the amulet he'd requisitioned, while in the guise of Nines, of course, as anything that provided protection from mental assault and detection was rather useful when he was trying to hide who he was, but other than that...

'Do I dare use my wand-staff?'

Given its ability to absorb fire spells directed at him, as well as its ability to change its length and width as he wished, it was one of the most potent items in Matou Shinji's arsenal, but that was the issue. It was something in Matou Shinji's arsenal – something that he'd been seen using in the past. In fact, given that his doppelganger had used it during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, he was sure that quite a few people might recognize it.

He had to have a wand, or something of the sort though, so…

'Well, there's always the Yew and Phoenix feather wand Tomas gave me…' he mused, considering his options. He supposed it would work well enough for day to day use – even for combat, should things come to it. And it wasn't as if he had another one just laying around. 'Right. But…should I bring ofuda?'

Ofuda, of course, weren't something exclusive to him – all onmyouji used it to some degree or another, and he was taking the persona of a mercenary from the East, but despite these facts, associations in people's minds were harder to shake…

'Maybe just good quality paper and ink, so I can make some while I'm there. I can even try folding them into odd shapes, or concealing them in different ways – ways no one has seen Matou Shinji use ofuda yet.'

Aside from that, it was only common sense to wear the underarmor that Touko had promised to make for him in exchange for one of the items he'd traded to her on the isle (since she'd finally gotten around to making it for him), his potions satchel, and the hidden blade he'd…inherited some time ago. It was always good to have a holdout weapon just in case, after all, even if one didn't expect trouble.

'I just hope Rin – Lumi, rather – hasn't screwed up already. Again.'

[hr]100%[/hr]

'Well, things are going well so far.'

So, Nines allowed himself to think as he gestured for the wizarding children that he'd escorted from the orphanage in Diagon Alley to board the armored limousine parked in front of The Leaky Cauldron.

"Come now, we don't have all day," he chided them, noting that a few had just stopped cold and were staring at the vehicle. "It's almost like you've never seen a car before."

"I…I haven't," came a mumble, with Nines noting that the speaker had been the youngest of the bunch, a certain Grim Fawley, a nine-year old boy who was the last of his old pureblood family. Who'd lost his parents in the Battle of London because they'd taken him to Diagon Alley to watch a play.

'Ah. Right.'

"Hopefully it won't be the last. Either way, you'll find its more comfortable on the inside," Nines advised gently. "If you're scared, maybe Penelope can look after you for a bit?" he asked, glancing over at the girl who was the effective leader of the group of orphans, given that she was both the oldest and had the most experience with magic, having had two years of Hogwarts.

Grim nodded as Penelope took his hand and helped him board the car.

'What am I even doing? I did well enough entertaining these children for an evening, but actually being their guardian and protector for a while? I'm not that much older than some of them, at least not in years…'

In life experience, he might be their elder, but in terms of years? He didn't have much of an advantage there, being only 14 himself.

"Perdita, are you alright yourself?" he asked, turning his attention to the group of almost relieved looking Muggleborn…and the disguised tanuki standing among them, looking the very picture of innocence, with cornflower-blue eyes and hair like spun sunshine.

…if said picture of innocence looked like Gabrielle Delacour anyway.

'Under other circumstances I'd grumble about her impersonating someone else once again, but it isn't exactly Gabrielle's image, so I can't be certain that she's using Veela powers to make herself more likable.'

"I'm fine, Mister Nines," the tanuki replied shyly, something that made the boy suppress a twitch. If he hadn't already known who she was, he would never have guessed she was Hilde. "We just…" She looked round at her fellows. "We hope things will be ok after…"

'Ah. Right. They lost their parents - and the teacher who escorted them – in the Battle of London. Even with a Calming Draught, I can see why they're nervous, though I suppose I should be glad they aren't having panic attacks.'

"Of course, things will be ok," the boy said with a winning smile, trying to project the image of a reliable first-class mercenary. "After all, I'm here." He paused. "And so is Miss Lumi," he added after a beat, gesturing at the blonde seated inside the limousine, wearing a rather somber outfit – the very one he'd negotiated away from the Illuminati, at that. "The First Citizen himself arranged for us to watch over you."

The children looked a bit uncertain, given the stern visage – scowl, really – on "Miss Lumi's" face, with

the boy remembering belatedly that she had not had her coffee that morning.

"I know she looks a bit scary, but that's just because she's thinking about how to fight off anything that even thinks about hurting you," Nines related, mentally patting himself on the back for having come up with a justification so quickly, while also reminding himself that he needed to get "Lumi" a dose of caffeine soon.

As the children filed in, one at a time, the boy took one last look around, before getting in after them and closing the door.

"Ok, Jeeves. Let's go," he instructed, with the driver up front – the very same one who'd driven him about London many a time tipping his hat as they set off.

Not for the first time, he wished that the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts (WADA), was in Diagon Alley instead of Southbank, of all places, but reality unfortunately did not bend to his whims.

'I don't think anyone will come after us on the drive, but one never knows.' That was the reason for the armored (and, he suspected, magically protected) limousine that he'd ordered for transport, as the company Jeeves worked for had some experience with VIPs. That, and he figured that Jeeves, as someone used to working with rich and powerful people - be they from the Tower or elsewhere - had probably seen stranger things than a group of children coming out of a broken down bar to ride in a limo. 'Anyway, it's a bit curious that the children are being sent there, but Magical Britain never really had much of a support system for orphans.' Mostly, such children were sent to the closest living relative or shipped off to a Muggle institution, but after Lockhart had taken over as First Citizen, one of the first things he had done was to use his personal fortune to pay for orphanages and to subsidize the medical needs of the survivors of the Battle of London, a move that had earned him no small amount of good will. 'WADA already has dorms and facilities - and other children around.'

Of course, it had never been the biggest or wealthiest school around, as those who attended it had generally either been purebloods with little in the way of ambition, or who strongly desired a career in the arts (despite how unlikely it was one could make something of themselves).

Still, it was set up to accommodate children, and it did have enough capacity for a few more.

For a while, it was quiet, as the children looked around the car and out at their surroundings, most of them quiet with their thoughts. Which was fine with him, really, since he really didn't know the first thing about talking to—

"Mister Nines?" young Penelope Padgett spoke up, almost as soon as the thought had crossed his mind. She was looking around the interior of the limo uneasily. This wasn't unexpected, given that magical Britain tended to emphasize magical means of transport, such as the Floo. Seated beside her, and nearly clinging to her, was Grim, whose eyes darted back and forth from the windows to the other children, from the door of the limo to Nines and Lumi, his expression haunted, his jaw tight, as if expecting something to leap out at them at any moment as their surroundings whooshed by.

"Yes, Penelope?" the boy asked, giving her his most charming smile.

"Grim was wondering how old you were," the young Slytherin said quietly. "You don't look much older than us, after all."

"When it comes to magic, my dear, looks can very much be deceiving," the boy replied – words that were entirely true, but also dodged the question entirely.

"So how old are you then?" Penelope pressed, noting the evasion.

"Older than I look," Nines answered vaguely. "Old enough to have fought monsters and demons, and for what few of my enemies yet live to call me the same."

"Demons?" Grim echoed, startled.

"Young master Fawley, you of all people should know that magic can be a pathway to abilities some find…unnatural."

"Unnatural?" Perdita echoed. "What do you mean?"

"Well, there are few things that come to mind," Nines mentioned. "Immortality is one of them – or something close to it."

That got the attention of every child in the limousine – and why would it not, when they had all had such close encounters with death? (Though not, it must be said, as close an encounter as Shinji himself had the pleasure of experiencing!)

"Immortality?" whispered Grim Fawley, his lips trembling as he spoke the word. "I…is such a thing possible?"

"Yes. That, along with techniques that can protect those one cares about from dying…"

Grim's eyes went wide.

"…what about bringing back the dead?" the young Pureblood asked, his voice shaky as his eyes looked desperately at Nines. "Can magic do that?"

Nines paused.

"…I don't know of a way, Master Fawley, but that doesn't mean there isn't one," he answered after a long moment. "I'm no Unspeakable after all. My specialty lies…elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?"

"On the battlefield."

"Ah."

"If you wish, Master Fawley, I can teach you – and anyone else interested – how to mind your surroundings," Nines continued. "If you're going to be constantly looking around, I may as well teach you to be properly aware."

"I…yes, please!"

"Good. Then we'll make time to teach you, and anyone else who wishes to learn," Nines said much more confidently than he felt, as he just hoped he remembered enough from Lockhart's lessons to not make a complete mess of things.

To Nine's relief, the children mostly were quiet after that, or at least had turned to talking amongst themselves – or trying out the drinks and refreshments in the limousine's on-boardrefrigerator, for long enough for him to give Lumi the thermos of Neverending Coffee, which she accepted with a grunt.

"Thanks," she said.

"Of course."

For a moment, Lumi looked like she was going to say more, but the girl merely shook her head at Nine's inquisitive glance.

Which was how he managed to catch Malfalda Prewett's deep, almost resentful sigh.

'Practically a growl, really.'

Mafalda Prewett was neither new to Magical Britain nor a pureblood. She was either a half-blood or a muggleborn, depending on the definition one was using. More than uneasy, she seemed angry, her body stiff and her eyes...

"Something wrong?" Nines asked, turning to the girl, who was seated beside him.

"Thinking about my parents," Mafalda muttered stiffly, a statement that made more than one of the children flinch. "They'd come to visit, when..." Her words trailed off as her words balled into fists. "A thousand curses on the Ministry's cowardice, and on the so-called hero who let them run away."

Nines blinked at the sheer amount of venom in the girl's voice when she said the word hero.

"You would curse the Ministry and the one who saved its people, not those that did the killing?" he asked curiously.

"The Minister promised that something like this would never happen, not after the Quidditch Cup Incident," the girl bit out. "He promised and promised, took and took, and then when we needed him most, what did he do? He ran, like a bloody coward."

"Mafalda—" the eldest of the children tried to interject, but it was to no avail.

"Don't 'Mafalda' me, Penelope," the half-blood growled. "If the Minister had fought like he promised he would instead of turning his tail and abandoning all of us, my parents would still be alive. Yours would be too. All of ours. If that Matou Shinji was such a hero, heshould have killed the coward where he stood, not let him sod off to Hogsmeade while my pa and mum were splattered by bloody giants."

Nines' jaw tightened as his mind's eye imagined the carnage giants could cause at...a charms school?

"Killed one, too," the girl said with no small amount of satisfaction. "And one of those corpse bastards. The rest though..."

'Wait. Prewett...isn't her mother a muggle, and her father a Squib?'

"Your parents - how did they...?"

"Shot them, how else?" Mafalda replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Muggle doesn't meant helpless, you know."

Nines nodded.

"No, no it doesn't," the boy affirmed. "I know that much very well. But at the same time, magical doesn't mean powerful, either. Not the way you mean, at least."

"That's true," Mafalda admitted. "But what about you? You're a soldier—"

"—mercenary—"

"—mercenary," the girl corrected. "Have you fought giants? Ghouls? Dark wizards?"

"Yes," Nines responded. "I have. And worse besides."

"...huh. And you didn't run."

"No. I didn't."

"Why?" she asked, almost demanded, really. "What did you have that the Ministry…that the Minister lacked? Why could someone as frail as you fight – and live – while they ran away?"

"Why do I fight? Because I gave my word. And for someone like me, my word is everything," Nines responded. "Even if I am asked to do the impossible, even if I am asked to face the very gods themselves, I will – or I'll die trying." He shook his head. "Why am I alive? Because on top of being good at what I do, I had good allies, good instincts, and good fortune."

"And what about the one who let the cowards get away? Who let them run when so many didn't have the chance?" Mafalda pressed. "That Matou Shinji – what was he? They say he fought off the army that attacked the Ministry by himself, covering the escape of everyone who worked there. If he was that good, why did he just let them…"

Her words trailed off as her hands balled into ineffectual fists.

"You have to understand that I never met the man," Nines replied candidly. "I've been working for the First Citizen, and they say he's been in the hospital in serious condition. Still, I'm certain he had his own circumstances. He's not much older than you, you know?"

Unsurprisingly, such an answer didn't entirely satisfy the girl.

"He had his own circumstances, huh?" the girl muttered. "I bet the high and mighty Potions Champion of Britain never lost anything important in his life, seeing as how he seemed to have so much just...handed to him."

"...handed to him?" Nines echoed, and if his voice was a bit harder than usual, if his expression seemed to be slipping, well…there was a reason for it. "What do you mean, Miss Prewett?"

"I've read about him," the girl replied, sounding entirely too much like a certain bushy-haired brunette from his past (at least, in her worst moments). "Born into a long lineage of practitioners – already a master of the eastern arts by the time he came to Hogwarts. Best friend of the Boy-Who-Lived, like the shadow to Potter's light. Instructed by Slughorn, mentored by the greatest adventurer of Britain. And yet, never there when people needed him."

"What do you mean?"

"He wasn't at the Cup, was he? Or rather – he was, but in the company of a pretty girl from Japan. He came with her – and he left with her, leaving the rest of Britain to fend for itself."

"Now, leaving with one's date is just good manners," Nines commented, feeling his smile become somewhat strained, even as he felt Lumi's eyes boring into the side of his skull. "That is, if it was a date," he amended. "Besides, I think you're being unfair, given that he had no way of knowing that the attack was coming. A man can enjoy his holiday as he wishes, you know?"

"Well…uh, what about him siding with Delacour because she was pretty?" Mafalda demanded.

"Was it because she was pretty, or were there other circumstances at play?"

"How would I know?"

"That's right. How would you know?" Nines echoed, not unkindly. "You weren't there."

"No. I wasn't," Mafalda conceded bitterly. "I was in London though. When he let the Minister and the band of cowards in the Ministry escape. When he didn't make the coward do what he promised. When he let my parents die. What did the Minister hand him, I wonder, that he decided to let them escape? A kiss from their metamorphmagus, perhaps? More? They do say he's a sucker for a pretty face."

Nines took a deep breath, clenching his jaw tightly to keep himself from saying the first thing that came to mind: that she knew nothing of his circumstances

He also fought back the urge to defend his actions as Matou Shinji, since as he himself had noted, Nines couldn't really judge.

"Well, the media certainly wants people to believe that about Mr. Matou," Nines said eventually. "I wouldn't be so quick to judge myself, since again, I haven't met the man, and I wasn't there. Just as you weren't in the Ministry when Mr. Matou made his choice. I often find that there is more going on than what is reported in the papers, or that we can guess from our limited perspectives. At least, that's been true for every battle I've ever been in."

Mafalda listened to what Nines has to say before shrugging.

"You say clever words," the girl admitted grudgingly. "Still, it doesn't change the fact that he protected cowards as they fled, letting those they swore to protect die." She sniffed. "I wonder what he would think of himself, if he knew the price so many paid so he could enjoy being called a hero. But I imagine he won't. Why would a high and mighty Champion and Hero ever see fit to meet those he'd hurt, or consider he might be wrong?"

She went silent after that, shaking her head, and would have turned to look out the window when—

"That's not true!" Lumi spoke up, her eyes flashing as she glared at this, her expression indignant. "Matou-kun is—"

"Not someone we know, really," Nines cut in, before his squadmate could completely blow their cover. "And from my experience, Miss Prewett, no one who is called a Hero ever really seeks the title – nor enjoys being called so, really. Like I said, I've never met the man, even if I've read – and heard – a good deal about him." He shrugged. "He's not why I'm here though. I'm here to keep you safe."

"You've said that before," Mafalda said challengingly. "But what do you think you'll need to keep us safe from?"

"Oh, all sorts of things," Nine said in reply. "Youthful overconfidence. Bullies. Yourselves. Oh, and the people who came after your families, in case there are any stragglers, though I expect the goblins on site have done a good job securing the area."

"Goblins, eh?" Penelope murmured.

"Mhm. You've met some before?" Nines questioned.

"A few," Penelope replied. "I saw them a lot around the alley when I was helping with getting food. Nice enough folk, even if they look a bit odd."

"I've seen some," Mafalda volunteered. "I saw them kill the giants who attacked my school. They fought and died for us. They avenged my parents, when no one else could or would, and for that I'll be forever grateful."

"I wonder if they'll teach us how to fight," Penelope murmured aloud, with some of the other children perking up at her words.

"In an ideal world, you wouldn't have to, but…they probably will, if you prove you really want to learn," Nines noted. "Just be careful," he warned, shaking his head. "They're not exactly understanding if you can't keep up."

"...you know this...?"

"From experience."

There were no more questions after that, no more fuss, no more incidents, with the rest of the ride being conducted in silence.


When they finally arrived, Nines helped the group disembark and led them to the entrance of WADA, where they were welcomed by none other than an elegantly dressed Hermione Granger, together with a smartly dressed detachment of goblins.

It is all the boy can do not to react, but somehow he managed, nodding to her, before turning to Mudbutton, the Goblin Spectre in charge of WADA, and snapping off a sharp salute.

"At ease," the goblin rumbled, with Nines standing down.

"And you must be Miss Granger," he stated, as he spoke to the actress.

"Yes. I am she," the brunette acknowledged.

"Nines, of the Albion Home Guard," he said, introducing himself. "I've come to escort some new students to the Wizarding Institute, and to see to their security personally. I understand you are to take charge of them?"

"That is correct," the actress said, perhaps a bit stiffly. She paused for a moment to look at him closely. "Have we met before?" she asked, her tone almost…curious. "You seem…familiar, somehow."

"No, ma'am, not in this lifetime," came the ready reply. "I look forward to working with you."

"I'm sure," the actress responded, less than entirely enthusiastically. "I'll take the children now. You have business with Master Mudbutton, I presume?"

"Or rather, I have business with him and his partner," the goblin noted gravely. "Gretlok, Snaphook, escort Miss Granger and the children to the administration building please."

"It's only across the courtyard, Master Mudbutton. I'm sure we'll be safe enough."

"I'm sure, but better safe than sorry, Miss Granger."

"…if you insist," the young woman agreed. "Come along now, we must get you registered and assigned to rooms. Mister Nines will be joining you soon enough."

"Indeed. Until then," Nines said, seeing the children off with a wave.

"I look forward to discussing what you bring to the table, Mister Nines," the goblin noted gravely, as he watched Hermione Granger leave with the children in tow. "You and your partner both."

"I do hope I will not disappoint, sir."

"You, no, but your companion..."

"What about me?" Lumi questioned, speaking up for the first time.

"Known quantities are...easier to deal with than unknowns. Isn't that so?"

"Depends," Nines grunted. "Are they known unknowns, or unknown unknowns."

"Yes."