Tsuna had a strange feeling that morning as he prepared bentos for the train ride so he said, "We're shifting onto the train today. Something is up, I just don't know what. I have the distinct feeling that some entity will try to deny me entrance to the platform, and I'd prefer to bypass that. Hopefully, whatever it is, it won't try to derail the train as a Plan B."
The others furrowed their brows or frowned, but nodded.
He finished up the last bento, put the lid on, and snapped the bindings in place so it wouldn't open unexpectedly, then tossed it into storage like the others. Then he started on breakfast.
At ten Mukuro opened a window into the train compartment they always used and saw it was clear, so they shifted into it and got comfortable. The usual Bounding Box went up to keep out other students, and they settled in for a far-too-long ride and multiple rounds of Cluedo.
It started pissing rain as they got closer to the school, which was depressing, but they would soon enough duck into a carriage and from there into the school, so it wasn't completely terrible, just mostly terrible. And besides, they could use Earth Flames to keep the rain off them and illusion to make it look as if they'd been wet on.
He zoned out through most of the sorting, though it was a bit difficult to ignore the girl with Weasley hair that kept glancing at him and blushing, before and after she was sorted into Gryffindor. Just what he needed, a fangirl in his own house. He resolved to ensure she wouldn't ever come near his dorm room, and he strongly considered that localized Bounding Box idea again.
Herbology the next day was interesting only because Lockhart tried to waylay him on his way to Greenhouse Three, but he was deftly distracted by illusion. True, re-potting mandrakes was vaguely interesting, if only because Tsuna's mind immediately went to ways to use the things as a weapon of mass death. Imagine putting a half dozen mature mandrakes into the Estraneo compound! Well, at least long enough to kill off as many as possible before shifting them into a lake or something to drown out their screams.
That afternoon, sadly, was Defense. After a near miss at lunch with a camera-toting first year who looked far too interested in Harry Potter, they escaped to Roary's to wait until class.
"Why do I have the horrible feeling that the boy will start a fan club with the Weasley girl?" he said. After a sigh he fetched a ring out of storage and got to work crafting an anchored Bounding Box that would subtly push anyway anyone who was not keyed in to the thing. Anything to keep the fans away; they were a damn plague he had never had to deal with as Dame-Tsuna.
Off to the side, his Mists were in a huddle with the others, probably plotting Lockhart's torture. A three-dimensional image appeared at one point, most likely one of the dandy's victims, and evil laughter rang through the room every so often.
He smiled. It was always nice when his family enjoyed themselves.
— — —
The next time Defense class rolled around, Lockhart was looking spooked. He was nervous and jumped at the slightest of things. The ghosts lurking at the edges of the classroom, unseen by any but Samsara and Lockhart, had nothing to do with that, surely.
He was amused to note, one of the times he looked directly at Lockhart, that his Sun was having fun with a bit of tightly-controlled cell division, as a nasty mole was sprouting on the side of the man's face. Given that no one was commenting on the event, he had to assume one of his Mists was busy keeping it hidden from casual view.
Perhaps he should keep a window on the man to see and hear his reaction when he finally noticed the thing?
Sadly, if they offed him now, the old goat, the board, or the Ministry would potentially saddle them with someone even worse.
He did his best to ignore the fluttery coy looks and blushes from the baby Weasley at dinner that night and camera-boy's looks of hope, admiration, and awe. Thankfully, the localized Bounding Box was keeping both of them at a distance.
The mostly unseen "ghosts" continued to harass Lockhart during dinner, which put the man off his food, though he made a valiant effort to appear cheerful and thrilled to see so many students shooting him looks of admiration or competing to see who could blush the most.
Life continued on at a boring pace until Halloween.
Tsuna started getting uneasy feelings again, which put the others on guard. The feast was noisy and colourful and children were eating far too many sweets. He could barely hear himself think with the cacophony around him.
Indigo words flamed in the air: I'm calling this. We're going to create clones to take our places and step out. You are way too nervous, darling.
Tsuna nodded slightly and didn't so much as twitch when he felt the semi-solid illusion form around him.
More flames read: Done. Heul first, and then we three bring the others.
Tsuna stepped out, wobbling as his seat went from a chair to the edge of his bed. The others shifted into place moments later.
A window opened to keep an eye on the feast. The food they'd been eating was shifted to them, onto plates taken from storage, and illusions left in their place. No point in letting that food go to waste. Nothing happened to disturb the feast, but being removed from it did allow them to take note of certain people being missing, amongst them Weasley, Granger, and baby Weasley.
"Ronald missing a feast? Is the world coming to an end?" Chikusa said.
"I just do not understand why Weasley and Granger hang out together," Hayato said, wrinkling his nose. "It's like some twisted thing where he equates her with his mother or something and reacts like he would with her."
"Why would baby Weasley be with them, though? Ronald barely even acknowledges that he has a sister. None of the Weasley males do."
"Unfortunately, unless we flood the school with spies, finding them would probably take too long."
Tsuna finished up his meal and sat back, frustrated.
It was not until the students began the journey back to their dorms that anything of note happened. He had a window open to the Slytherin students, but it was Xeul's Gryffindor window and Mukuro's Ravenclaw window that showed the cause of Tsuna's unease.
The students, one moment laughing and talking happily, had stopped cold to stare at foot-high words painted on the wall between two windows, illuminated by the light of flickering torches.
The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened
Enemies of the Heir Beware
A few students slipped in the puddles of water on the stone floor while jostling for space to see the macabre sight of what appeared to be a stone cat hanging by its tail from a torch bracket.
"So, that happened," he said. "The Dark Wraith is at it again."
Filch showed up and promptly flipped out.
Dumbledore arrived, along with a number of professors, and the students were firmly shooed away, back to their houses.
"He worked through someone the last time," Hayato said.
"We have three people to keep an eye on for sure. Ronald, Granger, and Ginevra," he said. "I'm afraid I didn't notice anyone missing from the feast from the other houses. Most of them are cardboard cutouts to me as it is."
"Yeah, I got nothing," Chikusa said. "I was looking for threats once you started getting twitchy, not people who might be missing."
"Same."
"Well, we'll start with those three. It'll be a total pain, but… We can switch off. Three on, one goes out and the fourth in, and keep rotating until we either die of boredom or something interesting shows up."
"There are very few things that can petrify someone," Ken said. He had a thing for reading up on magical creatures. Not surprising. "I'll prepare a report, though I'm not sure how much use it will be."
— — —
Weasley, Ronald was still lazy and slacked off, Granger still nagged and prodded, and Weasley, Ginevra spent a lot of her free time writing in a diary and ignoring people. Except for Harry Potter.
Cue blushes, innocently coy looks, and more scribbling in her diary.
And then camera-boy, also known as Colin Creepy—yes, he knew that wasn't the boy's name, but it fit.
It all made Tsuna very tired again.
During History of Magic one day, Granger poked and prodded and nagged Binns into answering a few questions about the Chamber of Secrets, but when pressed further, the ghost denied that the chamber or Slytherin's monster ever existed, and stubbornly went back to teaching about some goblin revolt or other.
Well okay, then.
He had the sinking feeling that Binns had remained teaching for so long because it meant the Ministry didn't have to pay a salary, and that they did not actually want people learning history because it might point out some gaping flaws in the system.
The same old same old, in a way. He who controls the information has the power.
He sent a side-eye at the old goat, wherever he was.
He had no idea there was a very frustrated house-elf muttering to himself about not being able to get to the Great and Wonderful Harry Potter sir and warn him of the terrible danger at Hogwarts.
November rolled in with a fresh wave of icy temperatures, and with it the news that Colin Creepy had been petrified.
On the flip side, there was good news as well. Mukuro's reconnaissance had revealed one Weasley, Ginevra, with her diary, as she walked into an unused bathroom and hissed at a sink. What might otherwise be taken as an odd form of frustration was instead a way to open up a secret passage. Mukuro was quick to inform the others and all four of them had windows open to watch as the girl hissed again and stairs formed in the sharply sloped tunnel.
She trotted down in a spiraling pattern to exit at the bottom in a sea of brittle bones, then headed off down a rough passageway, ignoring offshoots, until she came to a set of ornately-decorated doors.
"Someone's full of himself," Daemon commented quietly. "It is strangely beautiful, though."
Tsuna was just happy it was late enough that they were in their dorm room.
Through those doors was worse. It was a massive room, long, and dimly lit.
"I was wrong," Daemon said, "he is more than full of himself."
Serpents were carved into columns that stretched up to a ceiling lost to darkness. Tsuna was surprised the snake eyes were hollow rather than set with gems. At the far end was a statue that loomed overhead, as tall as the chamber itself. The face was monkey-ish, old, with a long, thin beard that fell nearly to the statue's feet.
The girl hissed again, for longer, and the mouth of the statue began to open, wider and wider, until it was great black hole.
"Look down, now," he ordered. "Listen only."
Heads dropped immediately.
Tsuna could hear slithering, then a resounding thud. More hissing, two different voices? The girl and the snake. "Don't look. Store the mirrors," he said as he shoved his back into storage.
"Done," came thrice.
Tsuna exhaled slowly. "Ken, you think it's a basilisk, do you?"
"…Yes. I do."
"The water, the camera…"
"Indirect vision…"
"Okay. I need a drink," he said, and fetched out a bottle of wine and some glasses, then poured. "Fuck my life. The sound of that thing hitting the floor says a lot about its size. We need that diary. Whoever gets their heart rate under control first get a window on the common room. Soon as that girl is asleep, we steal the fucker."
Ken knocked back a glass of wine like it was water and poured a second one. "Someone … has been killing the gamekeeper's roosters. Now we know why."
No matter how experienced he was, how jaded or blasé, some creatures evoked a primal fear in a person. Tsuna was pleased once the fine tremors stopped and his wine stopped jittering around in his glass.
Weasley, Ginevra did not return to the common room until nearly two o'clock. She looked dazed and confused, and a little frightened, her eyes darting around the common room as if expecting someone to leap out at her. She dashed up the girls' staircase to her dormitory and quickly got changed for bed (Samsara politely averted their eyes), slipped under the covers, and shut her eyes tightly.
Her breathing pattern had settled into a sleep rhythm by three.
Daemon said, "We don't know if it's just a diary. I'm going to that spot we used previously to destroy the first two, and I'll pull it to there."
Tsuna nodded. "Bring it to the Hogsmeade house first so you can hit it with detection charms, then to that spot. Take Hayato with you, and at least one other."
Ken raised a hand.
Mukuro nodded. "I'll take Ken."
The four of them got up and shifted out. Tsuna opened a window to their destination so those who stayed could watch.
On arrival, Daemon grabbed a glass jar from storage and dumped some bluebell flames in it, handed it to Ken, then pulled the diary to them. Hayato and Xeul sent out a battery of detection charms and grimaced.
"I don't know for sure what that thing is, but I do know it's giving me the willies," Ken said.
Tsuna shook his head. "Don't open it, just take it to that spot and disintegrate the thing. If we're wrong, all that's lost is a young girl's diary, and we'll arrange for an anonymous replacement."
Mukuro took hold of Ken's arm as Daemon took Hayato's, and they stepped out, the diary shortly following. Tsuna adjusted his window in time to see Hayato destroy the thing and another screaming face billow out and dissipate.
— — —
After lunch (for they had slept in due to the crisis) they went up to their dorm room and took seats. "We need to acquire some living roosters."
"Uh, yeah," Ken said. "I don't want that fucker living under our feet. An enemy at your back is a fool's game."
"Hayato, do you think you can disintegrate that statue enough to expose the tunnel behind it?"
The Hayato of old would have immediately declared he could, but this tempered and seasoned Hayato paused to consider things first. "Two things."
Tsuna nodded.
"One, you need to be aware and paying attention, so if your intuition starts screeching…"
He nodded again. "Agreed."
"Two, I think it might be better if I did it in sections, or layers. That thing can presumably open the mouth on its own, but given the thickness? It would wipe me out to do it one go. Layers, definitely."
"Okay. Figure out a game plan for that, and once we have roosters…"
Mukuro raised two fingers and wiggled them. "I'll check to see how many Hagrid still has left, and failing that, I'll go elsewhere. I can have roosters ready by this evening at the earliest."
Hayato bit his lip. "It's going to take me several days, at the least, so don't go wild. Just… Source the things, and when we're good to go on the final push, you can shift them."
Mukuro nodded. "We're going to need illusion to get them to crow, so perhaps one rooster per Mist? And Earth Flames to shove at least one of the buggers into that statue."
"This might sound silly, but… Should we blindfold the things?"
Tsuna blinked at the idea of blindfolding a bunch of roosters, but it did have merit. "Better safe than sorry, I suppose. Yes."
— — —
It took longer than expected to disintegrate enough of the statue's head that Hayato felt comfortable in saying the next session would be the last. That, when it happened, was a fairly simple deal. Hayato completed his project, disintegrating the last of it, leaving behind a gaping hole.
The four Mists had caged roosters ready, each with a tiny blindfold temporarily stuck in place, and windows open so they could see.
"Anyone hears that slithering sound again, drop your eyes immediately. I know you know that, but I feel better for saying it," he said, pausing a moment to take a deep breath. "Let's shift them in and get this done."
Four roosters were induced to crow their fool heads off in the main chamber, and then two of them, crowing in alarm, were lifted with Earth Flames into the previously hidden tunnel. They could only push them in so far, because Tsuna was not the least bit inclined to send a window in there and risk the basilisk still being alive and able to kill them with a look.
They waited patiently for a half hour of confused crowing before shifting the birds back out, unsticking the blindfolds, and releasing the little guys to Hagrid's care.
"Back up plan?" Ken asked.
"Quick-dry cement in quantity?" Daemon suggested. "More of that polyurethane adhesive? Something to fill in that tunnel down there? There might still be one to the outside, to the forest, perhaps. We could send in another window to check, so long as we kept our eyes aimed at the floor mostly."
"It'd mean waiting a bit longer, but we're due for the holiday soon. We could source that material, and after we get home, take care of it," Hayato said.
Tsuna looked at his family and saw no dissension, so he nodded. "It's a plan, then. Has anyone caught people reporting to the old goat about odd happenings and such?"
"To disseminate our own information?" Xeul said. "We'll keep an eye out or do regular spot checks of his mind."
"I'm thinking of that shack," he said. "Sure, we've come a long way in terms of spell knowledge and bettering the whole curse breaking thing, but…"
"It makes you uneasy," Xeul finished. "We'll see how things go. Worst case, we have one of his informants inform him about something suspicious there, suspicious activity, perhaps, and he can go deal with it. If he fails, maybe Hayato can disintegrate the whole place to get at whatever it is."
"We don't have any idea where the Dark Wraith is, so…" He shrugged. "Yeah, it's a plan, subject to changes as required."
— — —
Early December saw the list for those staying at Hogwarts for the holiday go around, and was summarily ignored. A week after that was an excited buzz. Word of a dueling club was making the rounds and students were speculating as to who would be heading it. Most were betting on Professor Flitwick given how he was a known dueling champion multiple times over.
Samsara, however, knew that Lockhart was behind it all, in another bid to maintain or boost his popularity. They declined to go, though they did open a window so they could observe. The highlight was when Snape took out Lockhart simply and quickly, without any grandiose posturing involved.
A blizzard hit the next day, forcing outside classes of Herbology (for them) and Care of Magical Creatures to be canceled. Three days later they boarded the Express, found their compartment, and stepped out.
The remainder of the year went smoothly, Lockhart got progressively more twitchy, and they had advanced enough in Ancient Runes to start tinkering on one of the mid-grade laptops Reborn had acquired for them. One was taken apart and thoroughly examined so they could get an idea of what changes they could or would need to make.
The first two tries went badly, with the laptops in question going up in flames once powered on. The third, after they revised their changes, did not, but neither did it power on. They set to work revising the changes for the next try.
Spies were sent on occasion to get updates about the occupants of the Iron Fort and CEDEF, but by and large that lot were left to themselves. The brothers three were still too young to maneuver into marriage and babies and so forth.
Reborn was brought in occasionally as a consultant (paid in baked goods or even the same meal they were having) on the laptops, mainly because he had the kind of analytical mind they needed, and he paired well with Hayato in that respect.
Exams came and went, Weasley, Ginevra had refreshed her friendship with a blonde waif who lived near her outside Ottery St Catchpole and seemed to be doing much better, elective choices were decided on and turned in (Arithmancy and Ancient Runes for all of them) and the ride back took all of two seconds once they were in their usual compartment.
Once they had blocked off as much of the passages into the Chamber of Secrets as they could, the rest of the summer holiday was spent on the usual things. A number of defects had tragic accidents, if only to make Little Whinging a safer place for the average civilian, but for the most part they were too busy learning, tinkering, and keeping an eye on Vongola.
Weasley, Arthur had won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw, and instead of spending it on something sensible had taken his family on a trip to Egypt.
Tsuna hadn't realized it was that damn expensive, but what amounted to £5,000 to pay for seven people to go to and stay in Egypt might not be as inflated as he thought. 'I suppose it depends on what it costs for magical people to stay in a hotel for a month.'
Letters arrived and they did their shopping (student shoppers were all agog over the latest and greatest of brooms, the Firebolt), and the Daily Prophet did a big story about a breakout from Azkaban. One Sirius Black had escaped and they had no idea how. The fact that a black dog which looked suspiciously like the one they'd encountered during their visits to Azkaban was spotted sniffing around Privet Drive was probably just a coincidence.
Daemon tagged the dog with a spy to keep an eye on its movements.
Gossip on the platform was all about the breakout, but they ignored that, claimed their usual compartment, and settled in for yet more rounds of Cluedo and thinking up outrageous reasons for why the culprit did the deed.
They had already crafted some forgeries that would allow all of them to visit Hogsmeade during "certain weekends" and planned to turn them in, using a bit of Mist to ensure compliance.
The ride itself was normal right up to the point where the train slowed unexpectedly, then came to a stop, well before they would arrive at Hogsmeade.
"What the everloving fuck?" he muttered when all the lights went out. The windows began to frost up and the compartment became cold enough that his teeth started to chatter. Memories, bad ones, were starting to flit through his mind. His response was to up the intensity of the Bounding Box's push against anyone (or anything) bothering them as high as he could get it to go without overstraining himself.
"Hayato," he whispered. "Be ready to disintegrate if necessary. Chikusa, send out some tranquility. If it's affecting us in here this badly, the students are probably terrified. Mists, send spies to see what the fuck is going on. I've got the box at full strength to protect us in here, hopefully."
Everyone immediately set about their tasks. Not having been given one, Ken kept an eye on the door and window. "Jesus fuck, what is that thing!?" he said a few moments later, staring out the window. "Something just glided by, like a wraith."
"Dementors," Mukuro said, his eyes glazed over and obviously seeing through his spy. "We never really got close enough to them at Azkaban to feel any of this."
"Searching for Sirius Black, you think?" Daemon asked, his eyes also glazed over. "They appear to be searching car to car, compartment by compartment. What idiot thought this was a good idea? Never mind, it's obviously that pusbag they call a Minister."
Xeul reported that a brilliant, translucent white wolf was charging up and down the length of the train, scaring away the dementors. "We need to learn that spell, whatever it us. The Bounding Box works perfectly fine, obviously, but it would make sense to learn this other method."
He nodded. Eventually the dementors cleared out and order was restored. The train continued its interrupted journey and they were soon enough at the Opening Feast. Pompous was even more pompous than usual due to having been named Head Boy that year, so that was at least good for a laugh.
The latest in a long line of Defense professors was introduced (Lupin, Remus), and the brilliant news that dementors were stationed at the school, "here on Ministry business", was announced. They were also informed that Kettleburn had retired "in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs" and that Hagrid had taken over as professor for Care of Magical Creatures.
They thankfully packed off to bed after the feast ("Coming through, coming through!" Pompous called from behind the crowd of students waiting to get into the tower. "The new password's 'Fortuna Major'!") and went to bed.
— — —
Lupin decided on a practical lesson for their first class together and led them all to the staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs. Snape was present, seated in a low armchair, his eyes glittering and a sneer twisting his upper lip. He quickly left though, professing to not wish to witness what was sure to be a mistake.
At the end of the room was an old wardrobe, where teachers apparently kept their spare robes … for some reason. As Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.
"Nothing to worry about," said Lupin calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. "There's a boggart in there."
Tsuna immediately zoned out, as they had already learned about boggarts during their independent study of the magical world. He was curious to know what his own greatest fear was, but not in any hurry to find out. He had an idea, of course, but thinking about something of that nature seriously was probably a recipe for depression of the sort that produced emo young people who wore all black, had gloomy expressions, and were at risk of suicide or writing bad poetry.
Or possibly wearing berets and snapping their fingers instead of clapping.
He was saved from further contemplation when Lupin got Longbottom to face his fear (Snape) and make it a reason to laugh, and student by student was called up to do the same. A sideways look at his Mists got a nod, and Lupin somehow failed to notice the members of Samsara, and subsequently did not call on any of them.
What struck Tsuna as very odd was Lupin's insistence on using everyone's first name, which was just not done. It was far too familiar for a teacher to do so, and he found himself offended by it, partly due to how the British normally handled things, but largely due to his own Japanese roots. A frown twisted his expression and stuck there for the entirety of the class.
Despite Tsuna's misgivings, Lupin was a popular teacher, and not just amongst the Gryffindors.
The usual check on their fellow Gryffindors showed that Weasley, Ronald and Granger were having frequent tiffs. The girl had obtained a half-kneazel as a pet and the cat liked to chase the boy's rat around. Weasley was worried that his rat would end up eaten and Granger blew it off with an excuse that cats chased rats and other small creatures. (Theirs were better behaved, obviously.)
Because empathy—clearly useless.
The Patronus Charm—used as defense against dementors and lethifolds—required happy memories as fuel, or love, such as for family or friends. It took Samsara a good month to get it down, and Tsuna was only mildly puzzled when he realized that Reborn (the Ki-san version) gave him the best basis for successfully casting the charm.
He shrugged and moved on.
McGonagall reminded everyone in Transfiguration halfway through October that signed forms for Hogsmeade needed to be turned in to her prior to the first visit, which was scheduled for the thirty-first.
They were already familiar with Hogsmeade, and various members of the staff kept shooting Tsuna concerned looks. They had a quick huddle at the end of class and decided, based on evidence, to not bother. If they wanted to go visit Hogsmeade, they would, as other people rather than students.
That being so, they approached McGonagall. "Professor," Tsuna said, "we all have permission slips for Hogsmeade, but we've decided that with a dangerous criminal on the loose, we'll just wait to go until he's been captured. So, we'll hold on to the forms for now."
McGonagall looked relieved at his statement and nodded. "A wise decision, Mr Potter. Now run along."
He nodded back and trundled off, his family forming up around him.
— — —
The feast on Halloween was more of the same, a wanton indulgence of too much sugar. How they expected children to fall asleep afterward was a mystery. Of more interest was the huge crowd of Gryffindors piling up at the entrance portrait.
Pompous sailed in, throwing pomposity around, and then called for someone to fetch the headmaster. A moment later the old goat arrived (further evidence that he had spies all over the castle, either in ghosts, portraits, house-elves, or spells) and, after a look at the portrait—slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor and with great chunks of it torn away completely—they were all ordered straight back to the Great Hall for the night.
Samsara took up a corner on the Gryffindor side of the room, accepted one of the squashy purple sleeping bags being handed out, and set up an anchored Bounding Box to cover them and protect them in sleep.
It was not a comfort that Granger was heard pointing out that the dementors were guarding every single entrance to the castle grounds.
The next morning they went back up to find that a Sir Cadogan was their temporary guardian—the only one brave enough, or more like stupidly brave enough, to take up the duty—but he spent half his time challenging people to duels, with the other half reserved for thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords which he changed at least twice a day.
"More incentive to get all the books you need for the day before leaving," he muttered, though such idiocy was not a deterrent to Samsara.
The days continued to roll by with nothing much of anything being accomplished with regard to Black being on the loose. Whereas their spies had placed the black dog at Hogwarts, no one seemed to be aware that Black was an animagus, and they did not know if the man was sane or not. None of them were willing to risk their minds on the potentially insane.
"We could just capture the dog and wait until it transforms in order to question the man verbally," Ken said. "A bit of Mist, some misdirection, and bam, he's in a cage he can't break out of."
Tsuna considered the idea and eventually nodded. "We'll need to find a place to—actually, we could use Roary's, yes? Misdirect the dog into thinking that is the tower? Lure him in, and I set up a box to start with. Damaging the Fat Lady could have been anger, but it could also have been frustration, or both. We'll find out."
Everyone started plotting the best way to lure the dog to the Room.
— — —
Defense saw Snape subbing in for Lupin, who was apparently feeling under the weather, and they were assigned an essay on werewolves, how to recognize one and how to kill them, on two rolls of parchment by Monday.
Granger was not the only one who protested, as the assignment did not follow the progression of creatures Lupin had been familiarizing them with, but Snape cut her down sharply with a comment about being an insufferable know-it-all.
"You would think the girl would have learned something by now," he commented that evening at Roary's. "She's had two years here already, and still thinks that waving knowledge around like a banner is going to function as armor against people who clearly fail to care?"
"She kind of reminds me of a failed Hana," Hayato said.
"Mm. Sort of. Hana had a steel spine and used knowledge as a weapon. She had a goal and determination, but she also had what Granger appears to lack."
"The ability to not let those things prevent her from making friends. Let's face it, Kyoko wasn't the brightest bulb in the package, but neither was she stupid. Just … oblivious and gullible. Hana was her best friend."
Hayato snorted. "Maybe if we land in a magical world a few more times I'll be inclined to care and do something about her. It's not like you gave much of a fuck until you'd had to deal with my behavior multiple times. I am forever grateful for that, by the way, that you eventually did."
Tsuna smiled fondly. "So are we set on the plan?" he asked, mostly to change the subject.
"Tomorrow is the quidditch game. If the dog goes for the stadium, we can lead him from there. If he goes for the portrait, same deal."
"All right. Which spot did you place me at?"
Daemon replied, "With me, up on the seventh floor. That way you're closer to Roary's and in a better position to trap the dog."
"Awesome. Let's go get some sleep, then."
— — —
The dog went for the tower, which clarified that it was not a student as the target. Daemon and Tsuna deftly redirected it to Roary's, which had been set up ahead of time and the configuration held in place by Ken, Chikusa, and Hayato.
They already knew that Mukuro and Xeul would be headed their way, if only because they had windows open to each team to keep informed.
The dog transformed into a person in front of the scene they'd concocted and began to terrorize the illusion of a portrait of Sir Cadogan. Ken just so happened to exit the room at exactly the right time and Black took advantage, unheeding of the cry of surprise and fright from the boy.
He dashed straight into the "common room" and was stopped dead when a Bounding Box sprang up around him. Several frantic minutes were spent by him trying to escape the near-invisible boundaries and more than a few spells went out.
The wand is probably an acquired one, Tsuna commented in flame-writing. It doesn't seem to work that well for him.
It was only when Black sank down to the floor in misery that they acted, and it was to use Earth Flames to take the wand. Mukuro used his eye to conjure up a horde of snakes to tie the man up, so to speak, and only then did Ken reappear, his nose wrinkled.
"He desperately needs a bath."
Black looked up sharply. "Who the hell are you?"
Ken smirked. "One of your captors, Black. We're going to have a talk, mainly about what it really is you're after here at Hogwarts. It's not a student, clearly."
Black went off on a rant.
Tsuna gleaned from that several important things as he restlessly moved around at the edge of Between. Black had been imprisoned for several crimes, none of which he was guilty of. Weasley, Ronald's pet rat, Scabbers, was in fact Pettigrew, Peter, an animagus, and the real culprit. Black wanted to kill the fucker in revenge.
His intuition wasn't sending out any alarms, so he stepped into view. "Mr Black."
Black's head snapped around toward the new voice, then gawked. "Harry…"
The others faded into view out of line of sight.
"The Weasley boy's rat has not been seen in some time," he said. "It may already have run, especially after the spectacle about you in the paper and around the school. You were clearly not sorted into Slytherin, or you'd have gone about things more stealthily and sensibly. I suppose not having any clear allies would be an issue."
Black's mouth continued to hang open in confusion.
Tsuna looked at Xeul and arched a brow.
Xeul nodded back and disappeared, off to go search Gryffindor for the rat. Had they known the damn thing would be of issue they'd have tagged it as they had the dog.
"Are your memories even whole enough after your luxury stay at Azkaban to provide proof of your innocence, Black? Or is your entire case predicated on finding the rat and presenting him to the DMLE for interrogation? Assuming you didn't kill him in a fit of rage first, that is."
More gawking ensued.
Tsuna heaved a sigh. "Mr Black, we cannot help you in any way if you sit there like a lump of suet. If we cannot locate the rat here at the school, we will instead need to find you a place of safety so that you can recover and live some sort of decent life, even if it's under an assumed identity."
Daemon waggled a vial of some clear substance at him from behind Black's back and flamed up the word "veritaserum" as well.
Tsuna's gaze shifted back to Black. "Are you willing to take veritaserum to back up your claims, Mr Black?"
Black's mouth snapped shut for a moment. "Sirius. Call me Sirius."
He nodded.
"And yes, I am."
"Awesome. If you would open your mouth, please, we shall get started."
Daemon, Mukuro, and Hayato did the questioning, and they were brutally thorough. Some questions were answered a bit weirdly, but that had more to do with the shred job the dementors had done on the man's memories than an attempt at prevarication.
It came out that, for some insane reason, Black still looked up to Dumbledore, so they took the time to cut that to shreds with ruthless logic and get the man to see sense. In the event that the man backslid, they also got an oath enforced by magic out of him.
Most importantly, that Black would be unable to reveal anything about Harry Potter, or the members of Samsara, to anyone, by any means, without explicit permission from Tsuna, upon immediate loss of life. The only permission he had was with regard to the events prior to 1982, when there wouldn't be much to tell about Harry Potter other than how adorable he might have been as a baby or toddler.
Black was still too befuddled to take notice of the fact that all restrictions were upon him, and none on "Harry Potter".
He was then packed off to the Hogsmeade house and shoved at a shower to wash off the stench.
Tsuna adjusted the Bounding Box for the house, to prevent Black from leaving if he got any stupid ideas that would quickly see him dead.
Black came back an hour later, scrubbed clean, dressed in new clothing (Daemon had stepped out and purchased some after having augmented his body to an approximation of Black's), and was shown to a seat at the kitchen table and given a bowl of broth (Mukuro had slipped out long enough to do some food shopping) to start with.
"We can't stay for much longer," he said. "The game looks to be winding down from what we can see and we'll be expected at lunch. The place is stocked with quite a lot of broth, various breads, and other fairly light foods so you can get used to eating properly again before you try more filling meals.
"If you need something, make a list. We will be visiting regularly to make sure you have what you need and that you have company. No point in you going batshit insane by being alone too much. You are not to leave the house. We will scour the school and find the rat if it's still there."
"It has a toe cut off," Black said. "Front paw, because it was a finger."
Tsuna nodded. "There are also few people at the school who even have rats, since it's not on the list you initially get. Far too many of them don't see the loophole that only first years are given that restriction, and anyone good with words can talk their way into something other than a cat, an owl, or a toad."
A faint grin hovered around Black's mouth at that.
"The only logical reason the rat was cleared was because the old goat wanted to be nice to the Weasley family because of their financial situation, and for Ronald, because it counted as a legacy pet. So, stay here, recover. We will see about getting you a new wand, and a disguise. Now, we need to get going so we can blend back in, so we'll see you later, talk more."
Black nodded, then brightened. "Check in Filch's office. We made a map of Hogwarts, the Marauders Map. The password to use it is, 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good,' and the one to clear it is, 'Mischief managed'. It would be very useful if he's got it in there somewhere."
"We will scour the school for that as well. It could be considered part of my legacy, after all."
Black nodded vigorously, dunking his scraggly beard in his broth several times over. "Me, your father, Remus, and … him. We created it. If anyone should have it, it's you."
"All right. See you later. Stay safe, recover, don't leave."
Samsara left the kitchen and stepped out, back to their dorm room. Flame writing showed up a few moments later: Heard all of it. So far no sign of the rat. Taking a break to go look through Filch's office.
Everything was thrown for a loop when dementors swarmed the pitch in a frenzy of attempted soul-sucking. The staff members who could cast the Patronus Charm as protection did, and those who could not were charged with getting the students inside the castle.
The result? Were the dementors pulled from the school? Fuck no!
It was an all-time record number of students who chose to go home for the winter holiday. Those who had bad home situations went to a friend's house just to get away.
Samsara divided their time between № 6 and the house in Hogsmeade, working to ensure Black's recovery. If Black occasionally called Tsuna "James" it went unremarked in his presence.
"You realize he may fall apart once you die in a tragic accident," Chikusa said mildly.
"Yeah. But it's already clear his memories are scrambled and he's living in the past to some degree, holding on to what he can. Perhaps Lupin can help shore him up, though it won't do much good if his innocence can't be proven."
"And if he proves to be resistant to logic and rational thinking?"
"Then we do a number on his memories, set him up with an embedded anchored disguise, and find him a place to live out the rest of his life in relative safety. If he believes that Harry Potter died that night and his so-called allies did nothing to prevent his incarceration, it wouldn't be outside reason that he washed his hands of the lot and the country and moved to a tropical island to live out his life in anonymity."
"You're going to die eventually," Daemon said softly. "The disguise will fail."
"True. But by then, we can hope he's got enough sense to disguise himself. We can always try to come up with a way to magically create the disguise, like an enchanted item. We have made huge strides in runes, after all. We can work on that, too."
Black, when notified that the rat could not be found anywhere (and Ken had an excellent nose), blew up in anger and paced around raving. Tsuna only allowed it for so long before he arched a brow and Chikusa took that as a signal to tranquilize the man into seeming serenity.
"This is the kind of behavior that saw you incarcerated for crimes you did not commit," Tsuna said mildly.
Black evidently took that as the worst sort of censure and looked down in shame.
"We will continue to keep an eye out. Sadly, we have not located the map. Do you remember how to construct one? Or would Lupin know?"
Black looked conflicted. "I don't. Remus might, but he believes I'm guilty."
"He seems mild enough for a werewolf."
Black's expression turned to one of panic. "But…"
"It is not that hard to recognize one suffering that curse if one is observant and puts the clues together," he said. It was also the reason they had not poked around in his head. They were worried the curse might in some way harm one of them. "Interestingly enough, for being a good friend of James Potter, Lupin has failed to do anything more than teach. He's overly familiar with the students for some reason, but he has not attempted to speak to me about … my parents."
"He's probably … afraid," Black said. "He's always been afraid. He's always been worried that people would reject him if they knew, be frightened of him, get everyone to turn against him."
"Is that why you learned to be an animagus?"
Black nodded. "So we could be with him on the full moon. So he'd have a pack. Werewolves won't harm non-humans, so as animals we were safe, and us being there meant he wasn't howling and hurting himself. The wolf could have … fun, I guess."
Tsuna nodded. "A project for you, then, if you're interested? Write down everything you can remember about becoming an animagus. We might like to try at some point, and your help could be invaluable."
Black brightened up considerably and nodded. "Absolutely. I'll need plenty of parchment, ink…"
"You'll have it."
— — —
"I question his ability to function properly."
Tsuna looked at Xeul and nodded. "We'll see. Don't get me wrong. I've done more than a few stupid things in my lives, but he went straight off the deep end. Let's just work on an enchanted disguise for him and, failing that, I'll use more the usual. He will be responsible for his own safety in the end, because we're not sticking around the magical world to be brainwashed into idiocy. I did not spend so much time learning how to cultivate my talents to throw it all away for a backward and regressive society."
"Well, Filch doesn't have the map, so either someone found and took it, or Filch destroyed the thing."
Tsuna shrugged. "It might be very useful, but it's not necessary. If we notice someone using what might be it, we investigate. Otherwise, I'm not too worried about it. Let's just keep an eye out for various things and go on as we have. No sense getting fussed."
— — —
The remainder of the year went well enough. Lupin continued to be overly familiar with the students, but did not, at any time, make it known to Harry Potter that he had been one of his father's best friends.
Exams began the second week of June and they breezed through them as usual. It was Thursday afternoon, as Samsara was walking to Roary's, that they came upon the professor for Divination, Trelawney.
"It will happen tonight."
Tsuna stared at her. Her voice had gone harsh, her form was rigid, and her eyes were unfocused. He almost expected her to start drooling any second. "Eh?"
Her eyes rolled back in her head. "The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight … the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever he was. Tonight … before midnight … the servant … will set out … to rejoin … his master…"
Tsuna's brow went up, then he booked it for Roary's, not wanting to be anywhere near the aging hippie when she snapped out of whatever trance she was in.
"So, that happened," he said as he slumped into a squashy orange armchair.
"Clearly the rat has been hanging around, just not anywhere we could notice him," Hayato said, looking annoyed.
Tsuna flapped a hand. "Not going to worry about it. He's been missing for ages now, and what she said just lends credence to the idea that he'll gain a physical form we can kill. Just need to finish off the last of any Horcruxes. Speaking of which…"
His Mists nodded. "We'll nudge the old goat toward the shack, see what happens. Nudge strongly."
Tsuna flapped a hand again. "Make it so."
— — —
They were watching when the old goat went off to investigate the Gaunt shack. It was a nasty place, surrounded by far too many nettles and trees that blocked the light. It rather looked as if a strong wind would blow the whole thing over were it not protected by those same trees and by vines that crawled up the walls and braced the structure.
Dumbledore took hours to get inside. Riddle had left behind many protections, and the old goat took his time breaking through each and every one of them. Inside was filth. Rusted pots and echoes of long-since-spoiled food littered the place, along with a thick fur of dust and greasy grime.
It was under some floorboards that Dumbledore found a golden box. He was smart enough to check for traps, and to disable them, but once he had opened the box, he lost all sense, apparently. One look at the ring within saw his expression turn to one of desperate yearning.
He reached out and took the ring, and wore it.
His hand started to blacken and wither. Dumbledore cursed and called for his phoenix; in a flash they were gone.
Windows were immediately opened to his office, the infirmary, and Snape's workroom, but it was to the headmaster's office that Dumbledore went. He snatched off the ring and shoved it into an empty drawer, then grabbed parchment, quill, and ink and wrote out a short note.
The phoenix flashed off with it a moment later.
Snape arrived in due time and swore when he saw the headmaster's hand, then set to work. "I am afraid all I can do is delay the inevitable, headmaster. There is no cure for this."
"I am aware, Severus. Do what you can. I must live for at least the next year."
Snape scoffed. "That damnable tournament. You know it will only bring more trouble to the school!"
"It's not entirely in my hands, my boy. The Ministry is insistent on it, so will it be. There are dark times ahead, and I must survive for as long as possible. And once I am gone … you know what must inevitably happen."
Snape sneered as he continued his work. "Yes," he said shortly.
"The boy clearly has friends he is close with. Surely he would give his life for them when the time comes."
Tsuna rolled his eyes.
"He has more self-worth than I would have expected," Snape said roughly. "Won't that cause problems with your plan?"
"I imagine that once he realizes he must die for the sake of their safety he will do so gladly, knowing his death was for a greater purpose. Let him enjoy life for now. It will soon enough come to a sad but necessary end."
Snape sneered again. "As soon as we're done here I will begin making the necessary potions that will see you through. And you will give no excuses for putting any of them off."
"Fear not, Severus. I will do as I must, for as long as I am able. After I am gone, it will be up to you to let the boy know his role at the appropriate time."
Several minutes later Snape departed to go start on his potions and Dumbledore opened the drawer again to gaze at the ring. "Ariana," he said wistfully. "I simply wanted to see you again."
"Ariana?" Tsuna said. "A family member, one presumes."
"I'll check," Daemon said.
"And he's clearly planning your death, Heul," Hayato said. "It seems we'll have to take care of the headmaster's pet after all."
"After the old goat is dead," Mukuro said. "But we should check to see if there's an additional fallback plan."
"And this tournament he mentioned?" Ken asked.
"The only widely known tournament I recall is the Triwizard Tournament, but that was ended centuries ago because the death toll was so damn high."
Dumbledore closed the drawer again and pondered. "Perhaps Fiendfyre will do to destroy this vile thing."
"I assume he's talking about a Horcrux."
"I would suggest we—well, we can, actually. If you're going to poke around in his head again, there's no reason we can't make him believe he still has the real thing. We pull it to the usual place, disintegrate it, and leave a fake in its place."
"So long as the old goat actually believes his fake one is real, I don't object," Tsuna said. "Should we ask Talbot to craft one? Or just bash something together in modeling clay and call it good?"
The others looked pensive. "I'd rather not bother him over this," Hayato said, "not if we can get by with what we have. Besides, Heul, you did all that experimentation with free-forging metals. Why not do that? We can get a few photographs of the thing without touching it, you make one…"
"Good point. I saw enough to believe I can successfully make a fake. I just need to get some metal out of storage. Well, and a high enough heat source to do the melting. We could try sneaking into Roary's, as the room would provide, presumably."
"Right," Daemon said briskly. "Tonight, when the old man is asleep, we can ensure he stays asleep while we're getting pictures."
"And keep those portraits unaware," Xeul said.
"Once we have a fake ready, we can do the swap, and also ensure he goes and does his Fiendfyre thing to destroy it. No evidence is no evidence. He goes away thinking he's done good, and thinking that his pet Death Eater will see to the death of Harry Potter through a series of manipulations and guilt trips, one assumes."
Tsuna nodded. "Okay, plan set. Once we have the pictures we'll move forward. Just ensure he does not attempt to destroy the thing until we're ready. He knows he has a year maybe, so while he might want it done soon, he can afford to take a bit of time to deal with other matters—like that tournament."
His Mists nodded.
"Odds that some Death Eater sort we missed is going to drag Harry Potter into the tournament?" Chikusa asked.
"And what are the odds it'll happen on Halloween?" Ken added.
Tsuna sighed. "Probably. But let's worry about that when we get there. I am too old to get fussed about a potentially deadly tournament. This lot doesn't seem capable of seeing our flames, and it's extremely hard for even us to see Earth Flames, so I have more than a few tricks up my sleeve if it happens."
— — —
Barriers were placed to keep people away—though there were very few people in the school during the summer months—and Tsuna was able to get Roary's to provide him with a forge so he could melt down some gold (galleons, in that instance) and use his flames to shape the molten metal into a decent approximation of the original.
It helped that the ring looked to have been made by an amateur craftsman in the first place. The stone was a bit harder, but his family took care of that by crafting one from some resin, taking care to etch in the symbol found in the stone of the Gaunt ring.
Once assembled they moved to the usual spot after the old man went to sleep, used Mist Flames to block the portraits, Earth Flames to open the drawer, and effected the swap. Hayato disintegrated the real ring and was quite surprised when the stone itself refused to fall apart and just sat there stubbornly.
Tsuna hummed thoughtfully, produced a heavy silk bag, and turned it inside out so he could use it to scoop the stone up, and bagged it up. Once tied off, the whole thing was labeled and chucked into storage.
Once they were back at № 6 his Mists went to tinker with the old goat's mind again and drop a few compulsions on him.
Two days later Dumbledore took the ring away, his expression both grave and wistful, and returned with nothing. "I shall have to wait, it seems," the man said, "to see you, Ariana, due to the stone being destroyed. Not too much longer, though sooner than I expected. Ah well."
"Why was he so interested in the damn stone?" he wondered.
"I'll keep an eye out for that symbol," Hayato said. "Or we sketch up a copy and a Mist goes out in disguise and asks questions, then erases the whole interview. Given the way the old goat was talking, though, it sounds like the stone has some way of speaking to the dead."
Tsuna shuddered. "Now there's something I've next to no interest in."
"Next up," Mukuro said. "I checked in on the brothers three. Enrico is sixteen and he's been wooing the ladies, though not with a mind to settle down, but more to play the field. I've done up a list of likely candidates for when the time comes, but I guess we'll see who's even still alive by then, or not already in a contract with someone."
"Thoughts on Black?"
"Unless we can find the rat, there's not much we can do. Our only real option aside from keeping him trapped in that house is to send him off far away, where he can roam around and not feel like he's still in prison. The house is nice, but to never be able to leave?"
"So we find out if the Black family has a place like that and send him off? Compulsions? Because the closer he is to the problem, the more likely he is to try to leave and get himself killed."
Tsuna waited a bit, then nodded. "Let's go talk to him, then." Before they left he did some baking, just so he had a diversion handy.
Black was pacing around the house restlessly, clearly unhappy at being confined. "You're back!" he cried, a smile lighting his face.
"We did say we'd keep visiting," Tsuna said dryly. "We were curious. Is there some retreat you could go to, away from all this? Because until we can find Peter…"
Black scowled and slammed his fist against the wall. He cradled it a moment later and took a deep breath. "Yeah, the Blacks have an island in the tropics, heavily warded. Barely anyone knows about it, and since I'm technically the head of the family with Reggie dead… That reminds me, I should update my will. I don't even remember what was in the one I made during the war."
"Will it be safe for you to go into Gringotts?"
"Oh, sure. The goblins don't care about wizard issues. So long as nobody recognized me on the way in or until I saw my account manager it wouldn't matter."
"So a hooded cloak."
"Right."
"In a nice lilac, maybe," he said, "or some other colour that people would remember more than the face underneath it."
"I could go for tie-dye," Black admitted. "That's always good for a laugh."
"All right. How about you take some time to figure out a new will, and when you're ready we'll help get you to Gringotts. And after that, we can go shopping in the muggle world so you've got some additional clothes, and then you can go take a holiday. So long as we can still exchange letters it'll be fine. If we find the rat we can capture it, and see about getting you cleared. Then you wouldn't have to hide. Staying here though… The house is nice, but I imagine it'd be too much like a prison."
"Already is," Black muttered. "Yeah. I'll work on a will. By the next time you come I'll be ready. When will that be again?"
"Next week?" he said. "Gives you plenty of time. Oh, right, we brought along some stuff I baked earlier. We all find magical food to be a bit lacking in taste. At least, the stuff the house-elves make." He produced the boxes of goods, seemingly from a pouch, but really from storage and trundled off into the kitchen.
Black was there in a flash, eagerly opening each of them and beaming at the contents. Muffins and cupcakes and other treats awaited him and the man seemed plenty willing to indulge himself.
— — —
A week later they helped Black get to Gringotts (liberal amounts of Mist Flames were used) and waited in an anteroom as he met with his account manager, passing the time by playing Skip-Bo. As soon as Black rejoined them they packed up the cards and hastened the man out into London to get him a halfway decent wardrobe.
"How would you even get to the island?" he asked.
"Oh, uh, the family has portkeys for that. I got the ring while I was at the bank, and that'll do it for me. I can also get a new wand that end, without much trouble. They don't much care for the British."
"Good. We didn't find the map, but we'll keep an eye out. Do you want to go back to the house first or…?"
Black shook his head. "I was going stir crazy in there. On the island I'll have plenty of space to move around in. I'll send a letter when I arrive so you know I got there safe."
Tsuna nodded and smiled, though there was little feeling in it.
A few moments later Black did something to his ring and he was gone.
Tsuna knew damn well his Mists had greased the wheels on that departure and could not find it in himself to object. Black saw him as James half the time, and he barely knew the man, so it was hard to care at all beyond the obvious miscarriage of justice.
With that out of the way they could enjoy the remainder of their summer holiday.