Strangely, everyone else got their letters several weeks before Tsuna's arrived, so he played the role of parent when a starched-looking Professor McGonagall appeared to convince them all of the existence of magic and to haul them off on a shopping trip.
She seemed surprised that so many magical children lived in the same house, of the same age to be in the same school year, but Daemon was a smiling deterrent when it came to clear and rational thinking on her part. That she sent more than one strange look at № 4 on their way out was noted and squashed with a mental compulsion to pay the place no mind.
McGonagall, head of house for Gryffindor, seemed terribly proud of her house affiliation and was pleased to play it up, though she did take the time to mention the others and recommend that they purchase at least one copy of Hogwarts: A History for their edification with regard to houses, student life, and so forth.
Heul wondered if she was like this with every muggle-born she shepherded through Diagon Alley and what the ratio of muggle-born students in Gryffindor was compared to the other three. He also wondered if she was the only professor doing these trips, and if not, if the other staff members were likewise a shade over the line into bias.
McGonagall seemed oddly pleased when none of them tried to buy out Flourish & Blotts, though she did ensure they picked up materials specifically designed for the muggle-raised. They had no idea she had already dealt with a muggle-born girl who seemed to breathe questions rather than air and wanted to know everything right now.
Uniforms—three sets of standard black robes each plus a frankly ridiculous pointed hat straight out of a cliché—were obtained quickly and stuffed into student trunks, as were basic Potions tools. Their last but one stop was the wand shop, where a Mr Ollivander gave them a misty, bug-eyed look before muttering under his breath and reaching for a tape measure.
Daemon went first and was shortly being attacked by a tape measure that moved on its own and measured him in various nonsensical places. Heul was convinced it was all mostly a front to distract the child in question from Ollivander fastening that bug-eyed gaze on them in contemplation before wandering off to fetch the first potential wand.
A quick look at Xeul and a twitch of his brow had the "child" nodding and ostensibly returning to watching events with an awed air, but he knew his Lightning would be carefully insinuating his flames into the old man's mind to figure out that gaze if possible. Was it some form of aura reading?
Xeul went next, then Mukuro, Chikusa, Ken, and finally Hayato, who had no doubt spent the entire time analyzing the situation and Ollivander.
Their final stop was to two places, Eeylops Owl Emporium and the Magical Menagerie.
"As stated in your letter," McGonagall said, "you may bring either a cat, a toad, or an owl to school with you, assuming your parent is agreeable, that is." She took a moment to glance at Heul, who nodded. "Do any of you have a clear preference?"
"I'd like an owl," Mukuro stated, somehow keeping a straight face.
Everyone else said, "A cat."
"Then we shall go to Eeylops first, then finish up at the Magical Menagerie," she said. "Off we go, then."
Mukuro found himself a snowy owl that spent more time looking at Heul than it did the "boy", but consented to be purchased as a "pet" and post owl. "You can help us to keep in contact with our father," Mukuro said quite seriously, causing Ken to have a sudden coughing fit and Hayato to look out the small, somewhat murky front window.
At the Magical Menagerie a clowder of cats was obtained. There was a litter of five part-kneazles they agreed to purchase, and once they were set with carriers, feeding dishes, and so forth, they were escorted back to № 6 Privet Drive after a quick detour to King's Cross to show them how to gain entry to Platform 9¾ on the first of September.
"Remember now," McGonagall said before she departed for points unknown, "the train leaves sharp at eleven o'clock, so it's best to arrive early."
"Have no fear," Heul said mildly. "Thank you for your assistance today, ma'am."
She nodded and set off briskly, disappearing around a corner at the end of the street.
"Wasn't that fun," Daemon said as they stacked their purchases in the sitting room and let the kittens out of their carriers.
Ken grabbed all the dishes and a bag of kibble to get that set up, and Mukuro opened the carrying cage for his new owl and set up a standing perch. Owl treats went into one bowl and he fetched a glass of water so he could fill the water dish.
"I should probably adjust the Bounding Box so this lot of explorers doesn't go roaming the neighborhood," he said. "Given that the Magical Menagerie did not sell litter boxes, I have to wonder if they expect all cats to be at least indoor-outdoor ones. Is there a charm we missed or enchanted collars to prevent flea infestations?"
"Adjust it so they can't leave the house for now," Hayato advised. "I'll run out and pick up boxes and litter. And either we can wait for you to get taken to Diagon Alley as Harry, or go back to check now that the issue's come up."
He nodded and set about updating their "warding".
— — —
A week prior to Harry's birthday he went to fetch the mail when the characteristic sound of post being delivered was heard. He'd been doing so ever since his family had gotten theirs, and it was less trouble to collect it himself, rather than have to deal with the gross caricature of human life residing at № 4 chucking a wobbly over blatant evidence of "freakishness".
There was a letter addressed to a Mr Harry Potter, so he grabbed it and wandered out of the house, back to the one he really lived at.
"Interesting," he said, seated at the kitchen table over a bowl of sliced fruit and a plate of croissants. "This implies they expect Harry to already know about the wizarding world."
"Okay," Ken said, "but how do they expect him to answer? They could not have been counting on the next door neighbors having an owl for him to conveniently borrow."
"And I didn't think to check for one hanging about on my way over," he said.
Mukuro glided over to the window to scan the street. "I'm not seeing anything. You don't suppose they'd expect the giraffe to take Harry to Diagon Alley, do you? Surely they must realize the woman abhors all of this."
"Unless this Dumbledore person really is a senile old fart," Ken said roughly. "You would think a national hero would get a touch more respect. Harry, I mean, not the senile old fart."
He hummed in thought, then came to a decision. "Daemon, darling, would you please encourage Petunia to escort her nephew to the Leaky Cauldron, just in case someone should be on the lookout?"
"Consider it done. Or, well, after you've had a chance to eat. I would offer up one of us to play the part, but they might be able to tell that the giraffe has mysteriously gained magic, so…"
"Yeah. All right. Let me finish, and then we can go set this up."
— — —
Petunia looked down her nose at him and gave him a rough push. "It's there, or near abouts." A small selection of bills was shoved at him with, "You can use that to take the train back, for I'll not wait for you. You're on your own from here."
"Whatever," he said carelessly and booked it inside. He knew the others would be strategically stationed around the alley keeping an eye out, though none of them expected much in the way of danger.
He went straight to Gringotts to inquire about any funds he might have. Research had shown that Harry's paternal grandfather (Fleamont Potter) was the inventor of Sleekeasy's Hair Potion and Scalp Treatment, and it was likely there was something of a fortune waiting for him. Something about how the man had quadrupled the family fortune before he sold off the company he'd made to manufacture and distribute the stuff.
The goblins were just as tetchy looking as the last time, but he slipped into a line to wait patiently for his turn. Once at the head he said, "I would like to speak with someone about any vaults I may have. My name is Harry Potter."
The goblin shot him a skeptical look. "Do you have your key?"
"Hardly. This is my first time in Diagon Alley. I wouldn't be asking what I might have waiting if I had a key already."
The goblin scowled and signaled to one of his fellows, who came over and grunted at him as a way (presumably) to tell him to follow.
Tsuna obediently trotted along behind the short fellow and was shortly thereafter gestured into an office of some kind.
"Claims he's Harry Potter," the unnamed goblin said grittily, then departed, closing the door behind him. Tsuna assumed it was male, anyway.
The new goblin also eyed him skeptically, but rather than say anything immediately he fetched out a gleaming knife and gestured. "Need to test your blood."
Tsuna shrugged and held out his hand, wincing slightly as the knife was dragged across the pad of his forefinger. The damn thing was razor sharp, so the pain came after the wound, rather than during.
The goblin flipped his hand over and squeezed, causing several drops of blood to hit the desk's blotter, then muttered something guttural before releasing him. Tsuna realized that his wound had been healed, which made the Ministry's insistence that goblins not be allowed to carry or use wands that much more criminally ignorant.
Words began to form on the blotter which, now that he thought about it, was probably some sort of specially treated parchment for just this sort of thing, and clearly named him Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter.
"Right," the goblin said. "Now that's sorted, what's your business here today?"
"I came to find out what my inheritance is. Vaults, properties, investments, and so forth. I only received a letter this morning about Hogwarts, so this is my first time in the, uh, wizarding world."
"No key, then?"
He shook his head. "I was placed with muggles, and I expect they wouldn't have any rights here. I can't imagine the average wizard giving them a vault key to hold onto, so whatever ones there are, I have no knowledge of who holds them."
"Hmpfh. Wait while I check our records, human child. You may sit."
A short time later the goblin had a stack of parchment in a leather binder to peruse. "The only thing you have access to at present is a trust vault. I will get you a key for that momentarily. There are two family vaults, one for coins and one for items, that you may not access until you're of age—that is seventeen, by the way, due to the way your human laws work. As for properties, that will require a more in-depth examination of the files and, quite frankly, you're too young to worry overmuch about it at this point."
Tsuna disagreed, but whatever. Assuming he lived long enough…
"And who, if anyone aside from me, has access to any and all knowledge of my holdings and/or the ability to make changes or withdrawals?"
"Your magical guardian, one would assume."
"Is that listed in your files or do I have to inquire elsewhere?"
"According to this, your—" The goblin stared at the parchment for a moment, seemingly confused. "Officially—according to the Ministry, that is—your magical guardian is Albus Dumbledore. Unofficially officially, it is Sirius Black, your godfather, who is presently incarcerated in Azkaban."
A muted chime sounded. The goblin reached over to push his gnarled finger up the surface of the desk near the edge, revealing a shallow indentation. He plucked a small key from it and handed it over.
"One other question for the moment," Tsuna said, carefully tucking the key away. "May I know your name so I can consult again with you at a later date should I have more questions?"
"…Gnarlknot."
He nodded. "I'll be off, then. Time is money."
The previous goblin was waiting for him outside, to escort him back to the lobby.
On the way he asked, "Whom should I speak to in order to visit my vault?"
The goblin shoved him off on yet another goblin, this one wearing a badge that read "Griphook", and swiftly departed.
Griphook hauled him off through a door at the back and gestured him into what looked like a mining cart. An exciting ride later saw Tsuna gathering up a fair amount of golden coins to shove into a sack hanging from a hook just inside the door (thoughtful parents or…?), and then they rode back up and he was free to purchase things he had no need of.
He purchased a student trunk, simply to have something to toss all the expected stuff into, got his "uniforms", pointed hat, winter cloak (and why silver fittings if that was a colour used for one of the houses?), and gloves (all of which were tossed carelessly into the trunk), his books, and so forth.
Why they failed to take a page from the non-magicals and get decent telescopes to use was beyond him, but whatever.
Before going into Ollivanders he paused so that Daemon could ensure his aura was not the same as Heul's, then stepped inside the rather dusty shop.
Ollivander was just as creepy as last time, and stared at him even more weirdly than he had at Tsuna's family, but he was eventually matched up with a holly and phoenix feather wand and given a cryptic statement of how it was that the brother wand of his was the one to give him his scar.
'Right, so the Dark Lord has it, and this guy here has no compunction about trying to terrify small children for his own amusement.' He took off after paying, glad to leave the place behind, hopefully never to have to deal with the man again.
'What sort of pet?' Mukuro wrote in a for-his-eyes-only display of Mist Flames.
He scrunched up his nose and wandered over to Eeylops to give the owls a once-over. One of the snowy owls gave him a look, but Tsuna wasn't especially fond of their appearance. He wandered back out with a white-faced scops owl that made him want to squeal at the sheer cuteness, along with the usual supplies, then rendezvoused with his family in a small side alley (barely more than an alcove suitable to host doorways to first floor apartments) and slapped up a temporary Bounding Box to hide the fact they were using Between to get home.
— — —
Twitter (the name had caused rather a lot of laughter when he announced it) sat cozily on his shoulder as they sailed through the portal to Platform 9¾ at ten o'clock on the morning of the first.
He wondered, while suffering the desire to look away from so much gleaming scarlet, if there was a teensy amount of Gryffindor bias there. The platform itself only allowed direct access to two cars, with the rest of the train snaking off into a tunnel that by all rights shouldn't exist were it not for permanent space expansion charms.
They trundled on and made their way from car to car, aiming for the final one and absolutely avoiding any cars that were entirely open but for the seats. The final car had a small balcony off the back (presumably for late arrivals who had to run for it), which they ignored in favor of the last compartment on the right.
"This will be an issue once we get older and bigger," Chikusa said, "but by then we should have space expansion charms down."
"Game plan?" he said.
Daemon, Mukuro, and Xeul nodded. "We'll be ready to divert the Trace after we get to the school."
"Awesome. Time for Cluedo, then."
They had managed to get through two games and the train had pulled out of the station several minutes before when the door was slid open and a red-haired boy stuck his head in to say, "Can I sit here? All the other compartments are full."
Tsuna noticed that an eighth "boy" had suddenly sprung into existence next to him on the bench seat. "Sit where, exactly? We're full in here."
"But this is th—aren't you Harry Potter?" the boy asked, eyes going wide. "You have the scar and everything, right!?"
Tsuna exchanged a look with Daemon. "We're full," he repeated. "I'm afraid you'll have to find somewhere else to sit." Hogwarts: A History had clearly stated that the train adapted to the number of students who would be riding it, so there was no way in hell the boy's claim was true, which branded the little snotbag a liar out of the gate.
"But aren't you—"
Daemon smiled angelically.
The redhead's eyes went blank, he turned around, and walked away.
Daemon slid the door shut again and said, "It won't last long, but… He is just a child."
Tsuna shrugged. "He's a child who has been given a second chance. We'll see." Twitter twitted in his ear, which caused him to notice a toad near his feet. "Huh."
Xeul was nice enough to snatch the creature up and drop him into a spare cat carrier (some of the kittens were sharing, so as to keep each other company) so the thing wouldn't get squashed, then hang it from one of the hooks on the overhead shelving units. "If its owner doesn't wander along by the end of the ride, I'll turn it over to a staff member or something."
"Makes sense," Chikusa said as he rolled the dice and then moved his (blue) playing piece. Not having landed in a room, play continued on.
"We really need to make our own version of this with seven pieces," Hayato said grumpily as he rolled the dice. "And all the proper colours."
Several hours later—about halfway through their estimated journey—there was a knock at the door before it slid open. "Anything off the trolley, dears?" asked a comfortably plush lady.
Tsuna and Daemon, being the closest to the door, purchased a few things to share around before the lady trundled off with her cart, at which point those who could pulled bentos from storage to hand out.
"Good thing I prepared these, then," he said. "You would expect if they have us on a train for the better part of a day that they'd provide something other than sweets as an option, or was there a dining car I somehow failed to notice on the way to the last car?"
About a half hour after they finished their meal and moved on to a new game (Tsuna was playing that time, the white piece representing him having been turned orange), a knock came at the door and it slid open to reveal a young girl with alarming amounts of bushy brown hair, overlarge front teeth, and a veneer of arrogance which mostly hid an under-layer of nervousness.
"Have any of you seen a toad? Neville's lost his."
A moon-faced boy appeared, looking timid and downtrodden.
Xeul pointed up at the hanging cage. "We found one earlier. Is this it?" He got the cage down and retrieved the toad.
"Trevor!" Neville held out his hands to accept his pet.
"I say, Cluedo? An odd game to be playing. Shouldn't you be reading up for the start of the year? I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, and you?"
Tsuna blinked before a serene smile slid into place. "Charmed," he managed to say before Trevor the toad hopped out of Neville's hands and made a break for it down the access-way.
"Trevor!" Neville cried and took off.
"Oh, no!" Granger said, and vanished in a swirl of bushy hair.
Daemon slid the door closed again with a sour look. "Please put up a Bounding Box, darling?"
"Sure," he said agreeably.
— — —
A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."
They left the school trunks exactly where they were, since they contained nothing suspicious whatsoever. Anything of importance was in storage, though they were considering getting either mokeskin pouches for the non-Mists, or some kind of pouch or bag they could place an undetectable extension charm on (once they properly learned it), not to mention a magical tent or two.
Tsuna could only hope those would function well in alternate dimensions. If nothing else, a tent would come in very handy in worlds where he was not slotted into an alternate Tsuna and he did not have a home at the outset.
Once they were out on the platform there was a period of uncertainty. Most students were headed toward a line of carriages and they were unsure if they should follow. It would have been nice if McGonagall had mentioned this part.
And then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, held by a giant of a man with wild, wiry hair and a beard to match. "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" he called, holding the lamp up higher. "C'mon, follow me—any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
He led them down a steep, narrow path which was moist enough to cause slipping for some of the students.
"Better lighting would be nice," Daemon muttered dryly. "Are they trying to kill off the weak and clumsy?"
It occurred to Tsuna that they might be being a touch hard on the wizarding world, but it was hard not to be considering just how much of a lack of common sense was being displayed.
"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the giant called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."
The path opened up suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.
"No more'n four to a boat!" the giant called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore.
Tsuna frowned, but got into a boat with Daemon, Hayato, and Ken. Mukuro, Xeul, and Chikusa were stuck with a boy none of them had yet met. He noticed that Neville had been chivvied into a boat by Granger and the red-haired boy joined them, along with someone else they didn't know.
Once all the first years were seated the giant (who had a boat to himself) shouted, "Everyone in? Right, then—forward!"
The castle was a sight to see, but they had seen it already, so some of the impact was lost on Tsuna. The surface of the lake was smooth as glass except where the boats were sending out ripples, and the weather was nice but chilly, so the ride wasn't terrible, and shortly the castle was towering over them—assuming one bothered to crane their head up to see it over the cliff it sat on.
"Heads down!" yelled the giant as the first boats reached the cliff and passed through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening. They were carried along a dark tunnel until they reached an underground harbor.
Xeul nudged him, quietly pointing at alcoves to be seen in a passageway that wound upward into darkness.
Tsuna nodded. The passageway itself was barely wide enough for the giant's girth, and it was unlikely the children would go up in more than pairs, which allowed for Ministry officials hiding in those alcoves to apply the Trace to unsuspecting first years.
He hung back with his family and let the real children go first. When it was finally their turn Daemon and Xeul used their flames to trick the officials into believing they were done while Tsuna and Mukuro hid the family from sight as a just in case. It was not until they were emerging topside, onto smooth, damp grass, that they relaxed and faded back into sight.
"Everyone here?" The giant led them up a flight of steps to a huge, oak front door, then raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times.
McGonagall opened it and bade them enter; the giant—Hagrid—trundled off to wherever. McGonagall led them to a chamber across the hall from where the sound of countless voices emerged and told them to wait, that the sorting would begin shortly.
It was cramped and uncomfortable and stifling to be packed into a room that size with so many other people and he was glad when McGonagall returned to lead them back out, across the hall, and through a set of double doors into the Great Hall.
Seeing the enchanted ceiling was different in person, and he could easily imagine having something like that in his own home, though the likelihood of it happening was slim to none. Perhaps an anchored illusion?
He zoned out while everyone was gawking at the hall and shuffling nervously in line, and through a bit of song, until McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"
"Hufflepuff!"
"Ashwill, Zane!"
"Go, Gryffindor," Xeul whispered, then headed forward.
"I can't be the first person to worry about head lice," he muttered, causing Hayato look amused and disturbed.
The hat appeared to be confused, however that was possible for a hat. The "rip" near its brim opened, paused, then shouted, "Gryffindor!"
"One down," Daemon muttered.
Indigo words flamed up in front of them: Use the shadows in your minds to present bravery, and if necessary, keep repeating 'Gryffindor' until it caves.
Tsuna nodded and zoned out again until "Elliot, Clay" was called and Chikusa went up. He, too, was sorted into Gryffindor. Tsuna was pleased that Xeul and Chikusa seated themselves in a way that would easily allow him to slip in between them, and expected Hayato would add to the bloc.
The Granger girl also went to Gryffindor, and was followed a minute later by "Graver, Hale" and Hayato going to Gryffindor.
Neville turned out to be "Longbottom, Neville" and after what looked like a terrifying time was sorted into Gryffindor. Either the kid had bravery in spades hidden deep beneath that timid exterior, or the hat decided it showed bravery that he could get to the stool at all.
It wasn't much later that "Potter, Harry" was called and Tsuna heaved a sigh before heading forward, shifting the shadows in his mind to only reveal what he wanted to reveal. Occlumency was all well and good, but it was also obvious to anyone who knew Legilimency, so they had come up with a secondary method to protect their minds, with the Mists helping those who were not.
Whispers sprang up like little hissing fires all over the hall and everyone present had their eyes aimed straight at him as he sat down and felt the hat being placed on his head.
"Hm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, I see. How odd, I would almost expect a thirst to prove yourself, coming from someone raised a muggle. …So where shall I put you?"
'Gryffindor,' he thought firmly.
"…Gryffindor!" the hat called out, then was lifted off his head.
The older Gryffindor students erupted into cheers and clapping, as if they'd just won the lottery or something. A serene smile slid into place as he walked over and took a seat between Xeul and Chikusa, and promptly zoned out again except when one of his family were up.
Mukuro, Ken, and Daemon were all sorted into Gryffindor as well, which was making the table seem smaller than it was with so many people seated there, and then of the last two first years, "Weasley, Ronald" was sorted into Gryffindor—
Tsuna twitched.
—and the final boy, "Zabini, Blaise", was sorted into Slytherin.
He ignored the old guy at the head table as he spoke, then reached out to fill his plate when food appeared. "Time to see if they know how to cook," he muttered, adding roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, carrots, and brown gravy to his plate.
'Eh, not bad,' he thought a minute later. He was starting to wonder if house-elves even ate food at all normally, because while still tasty, his meal was a bit like when the carbonation was half gone from a soft drink.
"Is it just me, or are there a lot more students here than expected?" Hayato murmured.
He held a tidbit of beef up for Twitter to eat and swept his gaze over the hall. "I think you're right, and I think I know why."
Hayato's brow furrowed as he forked another bite into his mouth, then he blinked and nodded. "Yeah. I wonder how the rooms will go."
Tsuna checked their end of the table, started counting male first years, and came up with a total of thirteen. "I think we'll be all right given how many we are. I will be annoyed if all of us are crammed into the same room, though."
More writing flamed up for their-eyes-only: Don't look now, but that redhead keeps looking your way with more than a little jealousy.
Tsuna sighed slightly and kept right on eating.
The food finally vanished and was replaced by dessert. He acquired a few chocolate éclairs to finish with, absently noted that Seamus was a half-blood, Neville's Great Uncle Algie was abusive and might warrant a visit, Granger had found a like-minded person to natter at and be pompous with, and that one of the (presumed) professors at the head table had the fashion sense of a concussed flower child from the sixties.
The pompous redhead's voice floated over as he pointed out to Granger who each of the people at the head table were. The flower child was Trelawney, Divination Professor, and generally regarded as a touch weird. The dour man with lank, dark hair was Snape, Potions Professor, and head of house for Slytherin. The one wearing a turban was Quirrell, that year's Defense professor. The short, dumpy woman with flyaway hair was Sprout, Herbology Professor, and head of house for Hufflepuff, while Flitwick, the part-goblin (not that his lineage was specified), was Charms Professor and head of house for Ravenclaw.
He also mentioned the teachers for various electives, but Tsuna had zoned out again at that point, hoping that the meal would end and he could see how the rooming situation sorted out. He was horrified when the old man got up (surely the headmaster) and cheerfully exhorted the students to a rousing rendition of the school song, which sounded to Tsuna like the yowling death cries of far too many feral cats.
Pompous made it known (again) that he was a prefect (and had trouble not polishing his badge and blinding people by glinting the light off it) and that all first years should follow him. After a long walk they came to a portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress, at the very end of a corridor.
"Password?"
"Caput draconis," Pompous said pompously, and the portrait swung toward them to reveal a round hole in the wall.
"We have to crawl?" he whispered in dismay.
On the other side was the Gryffindor common room, a cramped, round room full of squashy armchairs, with far too much gold and red in evidence.
"Because we have more students than usual this year," Pompous said, "things are slightly different. Girls' dorms are through that door on the right—the top two floors. Check both to see which room your trunks are in to know which room you've been assigned. Boys, you're to the left, the top two floors. Keep an eye on the notice board there, as the portrait password changes every two weeks. Curfew is…"
Daemon and Xeul tag-teamed the boys into delaying with a bit of gawking while Pompous was still talking, to give Samsara time to get up the winding staircase and ensure they had a room to themselves. They had to swap out Thomas, Dean and Schloam, Barnabus for Hayato and Xeul and, once that was done, Tsuna set up an innocuous anchor to protect their home away from home from the innocent (and not so innocent) curiosity of complete strangers.
Thankfully, there was an en suite, so they didn't have to all pile in with a bunch of actual children and end up feeling like creepy pedophiles as a result.
"So, more students due to fewer Death Eaters going out for a bit of light entertainment?" Hayato said.
Tsuna nodded as he removed his robes and folded them, then shrugged. "A bunch of defects got removed and it made it easier for us in the end. Not going to complain. It may also make it easier to blend in during classes."
"Good point. Well, I'm surprisingly tired—which really makes me want to start testing all the food for hidden additives—so I think I'm going to get ready for bed."
He smiled and nodded. "Me, too."
— — —
The next morning they trundled down to the Great Hall and settled in to have breakfast and receive their schedules. "Nice," he said. "We only have Charms at eleven today."
"Most days look good except for Tuesdays," Daemon added. "Are we ready?"
They all got up, grabbed their bags, and started off, passing an out-of-breath Weasley, Ronald on their way out. Someone had obviously overslept.
Since they had three hours until class they had a leisurely stroll to the library and grabbed a corner table, which was placed under a temporary Bounding Box to keep students away.
"With the way things are already going, I almost think I prefer all those assassins," he said.
Mukuro laughed at him. "What makes you think there won't be plenty here, too? You are allegedly the one who offed the Dark Idiot. Surely his brain-missing minions will want you dead for it. We got plenty, but there are always more like it out there."
"Hm, true. That'll be a bright spot, then, I suppose. Fanboys and fangirls are still a major downside." He got out Cluedo and started setting it up. "Out of who is left, we need to learn the major players and who to watch out for, as well as finding clues for our next shard."
"What are you doing!?" was hissed at them.
He looked over to see an overly starched librarian archetype glaring at them. "Setting up a game to use up some free time."
"Not in my library, young man. I'll not have you hooligans making noise in here."
His brow went up. "Right," he said blandly and began to pack the game away again.
They were out the double doors two minutes later. "Is using a spare classroom too obvious?" he asked.
"Probably, but it might be the best we can get," Chikusa replied. "Let's go up a floor or two and poke around."
Once they'd found an empty room (the dust told a story, if nothing else) and had settled in, Tsuna said, as he got out Cluedo again, "Oh, right, that's what I wanted to talk about. The 'most painful death' we can expect if we go to that third floor corridor that's forbidden."
"Clearly an invitation," Daemon said. "Either the old man is senile or he drew attention to it because he expects students—or you, specifically—to be drawn to it like Shoichi to a robot."
He nodded and set out the drawing bag. It held seven slips of folded paper, and only one of them had an 'X' on it. Whoever got that one was not a participant in the initial game.
"So, something for us to do, basically," he said, then smiled when a half dozen spies zoomed under the door and out of the room on a reconnaissance mission. "Maybe we'll get lucky and find treasure along the way. Also, see if we can find a better meeting place, because I'm thinking the common room just won't cut it, nor will our dorm."
— — —
Once they found the classroom (found being foreign-talk for retracing their windowed steps) they grabbed seats at the back and settled in to be bored.
They were, as expected.
The most exciting thing that happened was Flitwick toppling off his stack of books with a squeak. Tsuna couldn't tell offhand if the little man was a fanboy of the Boy-Who-Lived, had an inner ear issue, or low blood pressure.
Weasley, Ronald looked upset when he finally made it to class, barely on time, to see that the Harry Potter was already cozily tucked away with all the seats around him already filled. Tsuna quirked an eyebrow at Daemon, who nodded, and went back to zoning out. Flitwick was rabbiting on about the Wand-Lighting charm, presumably chosen as their first spell for Charms on the basis that homesick and nervous children would like some comforting light that did not involve stumbling around in the dark to find a fireplace.
Being the brilliant little schemers they were, Samsara got it on the "first" try, which caused Flitwick to squeak and tumble off his books again. He popped back up a minute later and awarded them each two points, beaming the whole time as if someone had just handed him illicit naked midget tapioca wrestling videos.
Or something.
"Not bad," he murmured. "First class and we've already earned fourteen points. Completely useless points, but…"
Transfiguration the next morning was similarly boring, and worse, a double, but unfortunately they already knew a laptop would either act wonky or not at all in a magical environment, and it was too early a year to buy an extra or six to experiment on rather than chance destroying one of the ones they already relied on.
The only option was to acquire them from a previous dimension, but that meant finding someone who deserved to misplace their belongings (and who didn't skimp when it came to electronics). He could, in theory, acquire goods from Vongola—or, perhaps, ask a previous Reborn to pick a half dozen up… Hm.
History was a snooze-fest and the perfect place to use Mist Flames to hide whatever they decided to use the time slot for, and Defense, at three, was a joke with no punchline. Tsuna developed a headache from listening to Quirrell stutter, the musty, decaying smell of the man's ridiculous turban, and the scent of garlic threading through it all.
That evening, in their dorm, he opened a window to the store world's Iron Fort and found Ki-san relaxing in his room with a glass of wine and a book. A grin broke out before it was subsumed by a serene smile. "Ki-san~!"
Reborn's head snapped up. "Heul," he said warmly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I was hoping you could do me a favor," he said, still smiling. "I could acquire what I need, but I don't feel like searching around. If I front you the cash—rather, the gold—will you pick up a half dozen laptops for me? Not top-of-the-line ones, because I need to run experiments on them."
Reborn's brow cocked up in a familiar gesture.
"We're in a weird universe this time, really weird."
"I'm almost afraid to ask, especially given that you don't look at all like yourself."
Tsuna grinned. "Yeah. Ah, this world has honest-to-kami magic in addition to flames, fairly similar to that one book series I read a ways back, though that fellow was named Harry Wright. He was a bit of an insufferable snot, too, given to saying he was 'always Wright' when people questioned him. I was slotted into the body of a hero, allegedly responsible for defeating a dark lord who'd been terrorizing the magical UK. They're all fucking insane here and common sense is a distant memory. The thing is, technology doesn't work well around magic, and I'm not about to tinker with one of the laptops we already have. It's dead boring at this school most of the time."
Reborn snorted after a moment. "A hero? You? Was the plot anything similar?"
He laughed merrily. "Yeah. Considering this body was fifteen months old at the time, and I'm pretty sure it was the mother who actually effected this miraculous defeat of Mr Magical Terrorist, I rather think that logic is soundly batted away the moment it tries to rear its head. We are now eleven-ish, stuck in a school for magic, and bored senseless most of the time because we already learned all this stuff while waiting to be invited here. No, not the same plot, or I'd probably have remembered earlier, like when we went to get wands."
Reborn shook his head. "Anyway, yes, I'll gladly pick some laptops up for you. Forget the gold, though. I won't say no to baked goods."
"As far as baked goods go, I can swing that. I'd just have to step out for a day, back to the normal house we bought, because magical kitchens are something I'm still getting used to. And frankly, I'd rather not do without my stand mixer. The ah, house-elves here are not…"
"Their cooking will never compare to yours, Heul," Hayato interjected from his position on his bed.
A fond smile crossed his face. "I figure we can take one apart after checking some references on ancient runes, see if there's a way to power the things with magic rather than electricity, and various other things. Even if we never get one to work, it will be something new to play with. Anything interesting happening on your end?"
Reborn shrugged elegantly. "Things are mostly the same. Decimo is generally a bit frazzled. I made sure he put information into the archives about the lasting effects of sealing an active Sky. Timoteo didn't bother."
Tsuna scowled. "Fucking trash. I have yet to meet one who isn't. Why would he not make sure later generations were aware of just how much of a bad idea it is? Honestly, I become more and more convinced that whoever Daniella married must have been alarmingly on the low side of the intelligence scale."
Reborn just chuckled. "Before my time, I'm afraid."
"That reminds me, Enrico will turn fourteen this year. Perhaps Samsara should become interested in his development as a young man and heir to the family throne, try to nudge him into a less moronic mindset. Or at least, nudge him and his brothers into actually getting married and producing baby Vongolas, so my counterpart isn't saddled with every responsibility."
"Noted," Daemon said absently.
"I assume, then, you plan to ensure your counterpart isn't crippled."
"Fuck yeah. Once we've blown this popsicle stand—I'm already thinking of having a tragic plane crash into the ocean on our way to a summer holiday deal—we will absolutely be in Namimori around that time. I'm also thinking of persuading the local Daemon to be a big brother sort and help keep the poor kid safe when we can't be right there."
"And my counterpart? It's what year there?"
"Uh, 1991 at present. We already checked. Your counterparts are already… Yeah. We'll take care of that, too, but first we'll deal with this additional complication."
"What about the family you ended up with? Another android masquerading as a human?" Reborn asked.
Tsuna's brow started to draw in, but it was Mukuro who laughed nastily and took a seat next to his boss. "No, not until we got our hands on them, the abusive pigs that they are when left to their own devices."
Reborn frowned, his upper lip starting to twitch toward a sneer.
"Daemon handled that aspect of things, and the moment we could, we persuaded the next door neighbors to sell us their place and fuck off."
Tsuna shrugged. "Sadly, it would not do for this body's … relations … to suffer a tragic accident, yet. If I live long enough, well…" He smiled serenely.
Reborn smiled back, suddenly in good humor again, then frowned when an explosion sounded off to the side somewhere. "Fucking Hibari," he muttered. "I'll grab a half dozen mid-grade, okay? I'll just leave them in here so you can grab them whenever."
"All right, Ki-san. I'll step out for a day at the weekend and whip up some cake or something for you as thanks. Have fun with whatever that was."
Reborn saluted, set his book down, and departed, so Tsuna dropped the window back into storage.
"This shit never changes, does it."
Hayato snorted. "Hibari probably got pissed that someone moved a micron too close to his perceived territory and blew a gasket."
"Or my counterpart smirked in his vicinity," Mukuro said, smirking.
"Yeah, that'd do it," Tsuna said with a sigh. "I bless the day Daemon found that Mist-Cloud body, and Xeul the Mist-Lightning. So much stress went straight out the window. Of course, I also bless the day you three decided to show up unexpectedly. Hayato, well…"
"Hey!" shouted an annoyed Storm. "I got better!"
Tsuna laughed merrily and nodded. "We wouldn't have harmonized if you hadn't. So, to recap current plans; one, figure out the third floor corridor; two, a better and more private meeting place; and three, baking to appease Ki-san's palate in repayment for the laptops we'll probably end up destroying."
— — —
Charms on Wednesday was a continuation of the prior class, while Herbology was at least mildly interesting, though he honestly had trouble believing there could be people who smiled that much out of genuine feeling. Perhaps Sprout was just that happy handling plants?
Potions on Friday morning, however, was not a happy time for most of Gryffindor. Snape seemed to be a curious mixture of a full-blown drama queen and a bully. Daemon later reported that a look into the man's mind (and he was a Occlumens of fair skill, though that could not rebuff an experienced Mist) revealed that "Harry Potter" looked entirely too much like Snape's school-years tormentor, James Potter, and was therefore the perfect person for Snape to torment in return.
Tsuna rolled his eyes when he heard that. "So he's got a monkey on his back and it isn't cocaine—or whatever there is that passes for recreational drugs in the wizarding world."
"I wouldn't quite put it that way," Chikusa said. "Definitely a long-standing grudge, and too immature and stuck in the past to recognize that the man is dead."
"To most people you look very similar to James, but with Lily's eyes. Your appearance is an affront to him, and a torment. But…" Daemon raised one finger. "Do not mistake this. Snape and Lily were friends as children—they lived in the same town. He saw her do accidental magic, realized she was a witch, and managed to become friends with her. Also of note is that his muggle father was abusive, to him and his mother."
Tsuna's face started to scrunch up in a kind of confused dismay.
"Snape calls it love, but a rational person would see it as obsession, just as he's obsessed with James for 'stealing' away the woman he felt should be his. At the same time, he owes a life debt to James and was coerced by the old man into agreeing to protect you."
"We're talking about a bucket-load of resentment here," he said. "Bitterness, spite, obsession—it's a recipe for the magical equivalent of a nuclear weapon, except that with this coercion and life debt, he's likely to atomize himself, rather than me."
"And he's a Death Eater," Daemon added helpfully. "But we already knew that."
"Mm. The only reason we didn't off him with the others was because the old man vouched for him. Are you now going to tell me that was a mistake on the old man's part?"
Daemon wiggled his hand. "Six of one, half dozen of the other. He joined up for all the wrong reasons, having been skillfully coaxed by a smooth talker, and then decided that Lily, despite having called her a mudblood to her face, was the exception to the rule, and that clearly he loved her. Given his only example of 'love' and his tendency toward obsession, well, you can see where that was going."
"Believing that the Dark were in the right, never mind that he's a half-blood, and yet somehow still thinking that a 'mudblood' was a fantastic and unhypocritical choice for a—I hesitate to say wife… Either way, all right. He's going to be a thorn in my side so long as he lives, but since I don't really give a fuck about grades from exams, I can just ignore him."
"And if he assigns any detentions, we fake him out," Mukuro said. "He may wonder why his cauldrons never seem to get cleaned, but that's not our problem. In fact…"
Xeul nodded. "Yes. We can slide in a compulsion to never give Tsuna detention—any of us, really. Sadly, a compulsion to make him appear to be a decent human being would be too radical a change of behavior. And if he steps too far over the line, we arrange an accident."
He hummed agreeably. "He's not going to get very far with denigrating James, since I never knew the man, and what memories this body came with are mostly only applicable to Walrus and Giraffe. All right, well, let's table that for now. If he steps over the line, sure, but for now, nah.
"And… Right. I need to step out tomorrow to do some baking. Two of you can come along if you like, but the rest need to cover our absence. If you have any requests, make sure I have them before I leave, for when I hit up a store first."
— — —
The next morning at six o'clock he was ready to step Between and get some baking done. Mukuro and Ken went with him as helpers, while the twins were in charge of mind-fucking anyone who came looking for Harry Potter. For all he knew they'd just create clones and have them fake eating at meals.
He spent a relaxing day baking a scandalous amount of that raspberry-cinnamon-coffee chocolate cake with the buttercream frosting, brownies, croissants, and various other treats. They brought back stacks of goodies that evening, and after sitting on his bed he opened a window to Ki-san's room, hoping to catch him there.
He was in luck.
"Ki-san~!"
Reborn's head snapped up and his gaze landed unerringly on Heul. "Dare I hope…?"
"Of course, Ki-san~! I baked all day. For you, and for my friends." He shifted four of the boxes through Between to an open spot on the table and shifted the half dozen laptop boxes to himself. "Cake, brownies, croissants, and a cheesecake, though the cheesecake really needs to rest overnight in a refrigerator before you dive in."
To his credit, Reborn's gaze did not slide over to the food awaiting him.
"I wonder… If this magic stuff sticks with us—these people are of the opinion that magic is of the soul rather than a genetic quirk—we might be able to have certain appliances, like a refrigerator, that use ambient energy collected by runes to power them, rather than needing an outlet. You should see the tents, Ki-san!"
Reborn's brow went up. "Tents?"
He nodded. "They're magically expanded on the inside, so it's rather like the idea I had to propagate the space inside a pouch to have more room? Some of these tents are as big as a family home inside, and folding the thing up and moving it does not affect the interior. I just hope they work in the next dimension. They seem wonderful as a temporary home while getting situated—or as a handy place to stash unanticipated guests. Maybe a portable prison?"
The corner of Reborn's mouth quirked. "I wouldn't say no to some books."
He grinned. "I can do that. It's all very hush hush here, the magic thing, rather like Omertà for us, but I know you can keep a secret. It's a shame, really, you proved to me over time you could make a friend you could trust and who could trust you in return, but…"
Reborn hummed, a bit sadly. "It's quite not the same, doing it this way. Do you think runes could be powered with flames?"
Tsuna blinked and briefly glanced at his friends. "Uh… That's a very good question. We're going to have to try that. And I will include books on Ancient Runes in what I gather for you so you can play with them, too. Maybe Arithmancy, since it's a form of—well, okay, it's a type of numerology, not maths, really. But it's a prerequisite for spell crafting, I believe. And a general overview, maybe history?"
"Those all sound good," Reborn said. "Even if I can't do anything with any of it, it's still new reading material. What about fiction?"
Tsuna and half the room snorted in derision. "I'll add a copy of Hogwarts: A History, too, so you'll have some backstory. Fiction around here is either romantic drivel involving romances between humans and creatures or demi-humans, or mysteries where the culprit is always a Slytherin. They might be good for a laugh, though. Think Twilight, or a Ravenclaw Sherlock Holmes and a Slytherin Moriarty. I'll throw some in. Should help highlight what nutcases some of these people can be."
Reborn chuckled. "At least it's not entirely boring for you. I expect being stuck with a bunch of actual children is annoying, to say the least."
"Yeah, and at a boarding school. There's this one kid who keeps eyeing me up. He seems to be the jealous type. Wants an in, but would resent every second of it, because it's all reflected glory. So far we've kept him away, but I have to wonder if he'd be bad like a male Bianchi or what."
Reborn wrinkled his nose. "Dios mio. If your body is a celebrity… If you hadn't already thought of this, don't go signing anything you aren't absolutely certain of. I don't know if the disparity between the name of your body versus your soul would save you if you got careless."
"Aw, fuck, I hadn't even thought of that. And yeah, I wouldn't doubt there are people here all too eager to trick a muggle-raised boy who has both celebrity and a presumed fortune into a binding contract of some kind. Thank you for bringing that up. Shit."
His Mists were sporting identical evil expressions at the very idea of some clueless civilian entrapping their Sky. Tsuna knew damn well they would burn the world to cinders if something happened to him.
"Maybe," Reborn said, "fake any signatures unless absolutely required?"
"The bank would probably require the real thing," he said, "but I won't have access to the main vaults until this body hits seventeen, and all else failing we'll just loot the vaults to the bedrock behind their backs using our special tricks and then kick it in a tragic accident. That aside, yes. I see no reason to 'sign' anything in the magical world, though it does make me wonder how I should handle homework. Maybe an illusion of a block print name placed by someone other than me? To wear off within a certain time frame? Something, I don't know. We'll figure it out."
"You could go with a classic letters cut from a magazine option," Reborn suggested with a toothy grin.
"Maybe if I plan to eradicate some of the defects here and want to leave a love note with the body. I can get them out of a tabloid or something. There's only one potential defect here identified that's an adult. Possibly two, but that's due more to a hinky feeling than anything like proof."
Daemon snorted. "And your hinky feelings are more accurate than computer calculations on most days."
He tried to look modest, and failed miserably. It wasn't like he had much control over his Hyper Intuition.
"The old goat?" Ken asked, then bit into a cannolo.
"Mm. There's just something off about him, but I don't feel it strongly enough yet that I'm willing to point one of you guys at his brain to dig around. Of course, if he really is an old goat, I'd probably have to bribe you with hazard pay for doing it. There's a rumor been going around about how his brother was arrested for using inappropriate charms on a goat, so…"
Snickering started up.
"I think his name is Aberforth. He runs the Hog's Head down in Hogsmeade. You know, that place that looks like shady dive?"
"Now I'm wondering if that's part of why we got the house so cheap," Chikusa muttered.
Tsuna laughed merrily. "Nah, I'd believe that if the house had been near Madame Puddifoot's. That place is like an explosion of bad taste and cliché." He paused to yawn. "Ugh. Child bodies and their need for sleep. I think it's time for bed. Reborn, try not to eat all that at once, okay? I'll make you more later."
Reborn nodded and gave everyone a salute.
Tsuna yawned again as he stored the window and flopped back on his bed. "At least we're not still five and in need of afternoon naps."
— — —
Gringotts Break-In Latest
Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on
31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards
or witches unknown.
Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been
taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been
emptied the same day.
"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep
your noses out if you know what's good for you,"
said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.
"Anyone else getting a hinky feeling about this?" he asked at breakfast, his head tilted so he could better read the Daily Prophet he was sharing with Mukuro.
They left the Great Hall before that redhead was finished imitating a garbage chute and went on a mission to locate the kitchen. They had intel that it was—fine, one of the Mists had acquired the information from a staff member. They lightly tripped down the stairs off the entrance hall and toward the painting that concealed the entrance to the kitchen.
Ken stepped forward to tickle the pear, then grabbed the resulting handle to open the way. The room inside was a match for the Great Hall, complete with tables in the same locations. Presumably the house-elves loaded those with food and then sent all of it straight up.
A house-elf noticed them enter and darted over, its ears flapping with the movement, and squeaked, "Masters need something?"
Daemon smiled and drew the little guy into conversation, quickly getting the information he wanted, and then they all trooped back out and started up the grand staircase to the seventh floor. On the opposite side of the castle from the Gryffindor common room was a tapestry, peculiar mostly because the man in it was attempting to teach trolls to dance the ballet.
One more tick mark in the insanity checklist for magicals.
Once there Daemon walked back and forth three times. A door appeared, which even Tsuna had to admit was sort of cool—even in a castle where some doors were only pretending to be doors, unless the conditions were right, in which case they were doors—and when Daemon opened it a room that could pass as an exact duplicate of their sitting room in Little Whinging was revealed.
Daemon quickly ushered them in and closed the door. After a few more seconds of concentration Daemon took a seat and said, "Welcome to the Room of Requirement, or, as the elves prefer to call it, the Come and Go Room. It can be pretty much whatever we require, and we can require that the doorway fades on the outside should we wish not to be disturbed."
"Our better, safer, more private meeting place," he said, smiling. "Probably not a bad idea to throw up barriers each time we come here, as I don't know if we could emplace wards on an already heavily warded castle. At least it's on the same floor as the tower. And… If this is a Room of Requirement…"
Daemon nodded. "Yes, or at least I presume so. We can try requiring what we wish to study, and learn it here, rather than doing so semi-openly in the library. There is also the consideration that the staff may screen the post. We all know that to control the information is to control the greater part of any situation."
"Good thing we have no one to write to," Chikusa said.
"And that their—" A Bounding Box sprang up in the split second between words. "—celebrity hero lives right next door to his best friends. What say we require up ways to spy on other people and ways to disable or avoid such ways."