Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter.

Chapter 6: My Side, Your Side

Harry rubbed his eyes. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night, especially when Mrs. Black went berserk for what seemed like the millionth time that week. He didn't think Tonks was on duty last night. She was usually the culprit. The portrait had said something about muggles, too. Mrs. Black has really lost her mind. Fred and George were too busy reworking their extendable ears, and Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all sleeping, or trying to, so Harry decided not to check it out.

Despite the constant rude awakenings, Harry was extremely happy that he got to live with Sirius and was acquitted of all charges for that dementor incident. He was not so happy when Hermione charged in suddenly.

"Harry! Ron! Wake up!" Hermione seemed overly energetic this morning. "I saw a new girl downstairs. C'mon. Get dressed and let's say hi."

"I'm tired of girls," Ron said sleepily, earning him a one-way trip off the bed. Hermione lifted the sheets and spilled Ron onto the ground. He was better off saying something stereotypical like "I can't eat any more." Trust Ron to say something wrong no matter what the situation.

"Be friendly, Ronald." Mrs. Weasley came in and looked at her son sprawled on the floor. Fred, George and Ginny were behind her snickering at their brother's misfortune. A thought suddenly occurred to Harry.

"Why is everyone in our room?" Harry asked indignantly.

"I have something to tell all of you," Mrs. Weasley said. "If you could take a seat somewhere." Fred and George sat on either side of Harry, covertly showing him their new extendable ears, while Hermione and Ginny sat on Ron's vacated bed. Ron settled on the floor.

"We have some...guests that came by last night," Mrs. Weasley said.

"I saw a girl downstairs - "

"Yes. I know, dear." Mrs. Weasley sighed. "I don't want any of you to be in the same room with them unless there is a group of you."

"What?" Fred said. "What's the matter with the new wizards? Werewolves? Death Eaters? Lepers?"

"No, Fred. They're called hunters," Mrs. Weasley continued. "You've probably never heard of them, and you won't be taught about them in school."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, always suspicious of the supposed failures of her school. "Hogwarts teaches us about all of the dark arts and magical creatures."

"Yes, dear, but they're not creatures. They're muggles."

"Muggles?" Harry said. "Is that why Mrs. Black was acting up?"

"Yes."

"Why should we be afraid of muggles, mum?" Ron asked.

"Because these muggles hunt wizards for a living." All of the kids stared at Mrs. Weasley. "They said they are here to hunt only You-Know-Who, but I don't trust them. Please don't give them a reason to change their minds." Mrs. Weasley looked pointedly at Fred and George.

"What?" George asked, mockingly offended. "Why look at us, mum?"

"Please," Mrs. Weasley said, already exasperated by last night's events. "This is important. I don't want to lose any of you. Please be careful." Mrs. Weasley got up and turned around abruptly. Harry could tell she was hiding her tears from them. Seeing her cry the second time in two days was unnerving him. "They'll be in the reading room for most of the time, and Arthur and I are making sure you won't be eating at the same time. For once, please follow our rules." With that, she left the bedroom.

"You know, she tells us this, but that only makes us more interested. Right, Fred?"

"Right, George."

"Did you hear what she said?" Hermione asked shrilly. "They hunt wizards! They kill people like us for a paycheck! They won't be people we want to talk to."

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled up his sheets trying to escape the conversation. First Voldemort, now this. Why does he never get a year off from trouble?

Hermione pulled his blanket back down. "Tell them I'm right, Harry."

"Well...um...Fred..."

"No need, Harry," Fred said. "Granger's got to understand that we'll benefit from spying on them."

"After all," George continued as if he and Fred were the same person. "Think about the knowledge we could gain from this."

"No one's been able to figure these guys out."

"And we have the opportunity to do so."

"We could expose the inner workings of hunters."

"And save lives."

"Not to mention gather impressive research for a new class or curriculum."

"Someone could even write a book that would be studied by all Hogwarts students."

Both twins looked over at Hermione and said in stereo, "So what do you say, Granger?"

Needless to say, Harry was always impressed by Fred and George, especially when they pulled a stunt like this.

"Okay," Hermione conceded. "But we go as a group. No apparating."

"Deal." The three got up and shook hands. "Get dressed, Harry. We want to catch one of them before they retreat into the reading room." The two girls and the twins left the room, most likely waiting outside for them to get ready.

"What just happened?" Ron asked dumbfounded.

"Let's just get ready and see where it takes us."

Robin's head was swimming. Amon told them they should get some sleep since he didn't know when they'd have another chance to do so. The others seemed capable of sleeping, but Robin couldn't quiet her mind. The entire month had been hard on her. First she found the Arcanum from the witch of longevity and while awaiting orders from Father Juliano, she met the Inquisitor who not-so-subtly implied that her powers were that of a witch's. Now she was in a house full of people whom she would normally be sent to hunt.

Another reason why she wasn't sleeping was because Amon had disappeared somewhere. Robin didn't know these witches well enough to go anywhere alone, but that didn't seem to stop Amon from going anywhere he pleased. Figuring that she wouldn't be able to get any sleep, whether she stayed in the room or not, Robin got up and started searching for Amon.

Thankfully, he was in the dining room and not in some other room that she's never been to before. Amon was the only one there, sitting down at the table and looking at the notes he'd taken on the case. He was in his usual pose - leaning on his left hand, his palm covering his mouth thoughtfully. Robin walked over and sat next to him, hopefully without reprimand for sitting so close without anyone else at the table.

"Did you sleep at all?" Amon's voice was low and quieter than usual. She shook her head. There wasn't a point in asking him the same. Amon would choose to stay on guard rather than sleep. She wished he at least showed some sign of fatigue, though. Amon was still as sharp as he always is.

"What have you been doing?" Robin asked, thinking it would be better to say something than stare at him.

"Planning." Robin frowned. He wasn't going to say anything else.

"Planning what?" Robin prodded.

"Do you see the paintings in the room?" Robin furrowed her brow. What did that have to do with her question? "They move and seem to have great interest in us."

Robin looked at one of the paintings in which a man was glaring at them, trying to listen to their conversation. Amon's low voice and well-placed hand had been a conscious decision. She folded her hands in her lap and stayed quiet. Amon was far more intuitive than anyone else she knew.

"Robin." She looked over at Amon whose eyes had shifted to her at some point. "Don't use your power here or tell anyone that you have them," he said in a much more hushed tone than before.

"Why?"

"Witches don't know of your abilities, and a large reason as to why Solomon is successful in its hunts is because of craft-users. That and they may attack you personally if they knew you have a craft."

Robin looked down at her hands. She hoped Amon wasn't implying that she was a witch. "Does everyone know not to say anything?"

"Karasuma does at least."

"Amon?" He turned slightly, acknowledging her. "Why are we staying here?"

He sighed and turned back to his notes. "Because there's nowhere else to go."

Robin fidgeted. When Amon couldn't think of other options, it was usually a bad sign. At least on the outside he was still confident. She didn't know what would happen if she and the other hunters had a weaker leader. She smiled. She was very happy that Amon was still here despite Solomon turning its back on them. Well, maybe happy was an understatement.

"Why are you smiling?" Robin turned quickly to see Amon looking curiously at her enjoyment of a hopeless situation.

Blushing, she turned back to the table muttering "It's nothing." She frowned when she heard snickering from the painting.

Other voices approaching the dining room caused Robin to look up. A group of teenagers entered. The red-haired twins, which she guessed were Mrs. Weasley's children, casually sat across from her and Amon, not at all afraid of them. The other four were not as quick, and they reluctantly sat near the two boys. Robin was a little wary when the boys continued to grin ear from ear.

"Hello there," one twin said eagerly. "Don't think we've met. My name's Fred Weasley, and this here is George."

"The other less sociable ones down there are Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and our precious brother and sister, Ron and Ginny."

They looked at Robin expectantly. She glanced at Amon who wasn't reacting to the two boys, instead continuing his study of the notes. "My name is Robin Sena."

"...And?" They looked at her enigmatic partner.

"Oh...and this is Amon."

"Does Amon have a last name?" Fred asked as if talking to a child.

"He does," Amon said without bothering to look at the boys. A few seconds later, they realized that Amon wasn't going to elaborate.

"Well, a bit grumpy, isn't he?" Fred said.

"Reminds me of a certain potions professor," George agreed.

Robin looked at the other kids. The boys seemed to enjoy the joke, but the girls were frowning at them. They turned back to look at Amon, a little too starry-eyed for Robin.

"He doesn't look like that greasy git," Ginny said emphatically. Hermione nodded in approval. The boys rolled their eyes.

"How old are all of you," Robin asked politely, trying to change the subject matter from Amon to anything else.

"We're sixteen," the twins said in unison.

"I'm fourteen," Ginny said proudly. "Harry, Ron and Hermione are fifteen."

"Oh, I thought you were younger," Robin commented. Her observation didn't seem to please any of them.

"And how old are you?" Hermione asked in a huff. The girl was obviously mad, either from her previous statement or from her close proximity to Amon.

"I'm fifteen also." The others seemed perplexed by her age.

"Fifteen?" Ron asked. "But that's pretty young. I mean, you're killers, right?"

Robin was suddenly taken aback by his accusation. Killers? She only did what was necessary to save the lives of others. Although most of the witches she encountered attacked those who threatened them or other criminals, Robin was sure that she was doing the right thing, in case the witches started murdering innocent people.

Robin's hands unconsciously played with her dress as she looked at the young witches in front of her. What should she say to them? That they only hunted and captured their enemies. It was similar to the law enforcement system anywhere else.

But that isn't true. She has killed witches. That girl Chie had run into her flames. She was protecting herself against an illusion with Methusela. But that man. The man whom the Inquisitor visited. She killed him. She may have shed a tear afterward, but she really did kill him. She knew exactly what she was doing. But, she was only protecting Amon, right? Did she have to go that far? Her grip on her dress tightened as she bit her lower lip.

"I..." Robin really had not idea how to reply.

"Why are you down here?" Amon interrupted coldly. The group's attention quickly jerked away from Robin. The boys looked fearful and the girls no longer had stars in their eyes. Even the twins started to look uncomfortable. "I'm assuming your mother warned you about us, and you don't appear to be down here to eat, so why are you here?" Amon's glare was succeeding in making them squirm.

"Well, we are going to live together, so we should probably get to know each other." Fred smiled at the two.

"Then let me make this clear," Amon said in an unusually angry tone. "Besides gathering information on the man we're looking for, neither myself nor my team will have anything to do with you. Once we've accomplished our goal, nothing will get in our way if you are the next targets."

Amon stood up, slightly brushing against Robin as a signal to do the same. She gladly followed suit. "None of you will be of use to our mission. Don't approach any of my hunters." Amon turned to look at Robin, urging her to move first.

Her brain was telling her to settle down, but she couldn't. Was he protecting her? Had he broken his silence just so the others would stop questioning her? She knew she shouldn't allow herself to believe in such a romantic fantasy, but Amon always seemed to bring it out of her with only a hint of emotion.

She barely held back a smile when he turned to her, and she quickly walked out of the room to avoid any questioning glances as to why she stood there idolizing him. Walking up the stairs to the reading room, she wanted to thank him before the other hunters saw them, seeing as how it might embarrass Amon to do so in front of them. She turned around to talk to Amon whom she knew was following her. She hadn't realized how closely he had been behind her.

She ended up face to face with him. Amon was at least a half a foot taller than she was, but apparently the stair was making up for her loss of inches. By the look on Amon's face, he was also surprised, albeit mildly, that she had abruptly turned around. Robin quieted the part of her brain that was sorely disappointed at Amon's quick reflexes.

"Um..." Robin began, hoping her face wasn't as red as she imagined it to be. "Thank you, for getting me out of that room."

Amon shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Don't hesitate to say something next time," Amon said. "These witches only know of us through stories and legends. They can't possibly comprehend what are jobs are."

Robin frowned slightly. Amon wasn't denying that they were killers. She suddenly remembered the fear she felt when Amon had dragged Sakaki back to the Solomon apartment near Diagon Alley. This was as good a time as any to bring it up.

"Amon, have you ever...um..." Her eyes flickered down to her shoes. She couldn't possibly look at him while asking this. "Have you - "

"I do what I'm told to do," Amon said blankly. He seemed so nonchalant about answering her question. Is he able to kill so easily and heartlessly?

Amon averted his eyes from her. She guessed her face was far too expressive of her dislike of Amon's lack of morality and human emotion. He let go of the banister and side-stepped around her. "We all have jobs to do, whether we like it or not."

Robin grabbed Amon's arm before he got any further up the stairs. "I'm sorry." She looked back up at him. He was staring at her, obviously confused at her apology. "I trust you. Whatever your methods are, whatever you've done or will do, I'll always have faith in your decisions." She let go of his jacket and walked back to the reading room, leaving Amon behind on the staircase.