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

A/N: This will unfortunately be my last post for about two weeks as I will be on Spring Break soon and I won't have access to a computer (or at least a reliable computer). However, it will give me time to stock up on more chapters that will make future updates even faster than they were in the beginning. At any rate, I hope you enjoy what I have for now, and, as always, many thanks to my lovely reviewers.

Chapter 8: 33 is a Crowd

Michael's fingers were itching for a computer. He had his laptop, but with no electrical outlet, Amon advised him to save the batteries. His CD player had died a long time ago. He was sure he was in Hell.

Surfing the internet and connecting with people all over the world had kept him sane when he was stuck in Raven's Flat. It made his situation seem not as bad as it really was. He had almost convinced himself that there was no reason to explore the outside world when everything he could ever learn and everyone he wanted to talk to were online or sitting next to him.

The truth is, he hated that place. He hadn't fully recognized those feelings until he stepped outside the STN-E compound after finally ridding himself of Zaizen. It was exciting and frightening at the same time. He had forgotten what freedoms he should have been entitled to as a human being. He could stretch his arms in the park, reaching for the sun that was so bright it blinded him.

Michael wished he had never been given that opportunity. The situation was different, but the result was the same. He was stuck inside a foreign house, unable to venture past the chained door. However, there was one notable difference - he was completely useless to the team.

Without his computer, Michael felt as though the only meaning in his life up to now was taken away. He was nothing. He was less than nothing. He was a burden. The others had enough problems with these witches and Solomon. Now he was making them worry about ensuring his safety and dragging him along. He was nothing more than dead weight.

Michael stared blankly at the books in the reading room. He's lived in Japan for so long that he didn't even realize people had space for a room dedicated to just reading books. Some people liked that hands-on experience with turning the pages, juggling the heavier volumes and smelling that odd odor the older ones seemed to emit. Michael was not one of them. He turned back to his bag. He really wished these witches had electricity.

Amon walked in and sat on one of the chairs. Michael couldn't fathom what was on that man's mind. He spent a lot of time observing people from the windows in Raven's Flat to pass the time, and he had gotten rather good at predicting actions. So when he admits to himself that Amon confuses the hell out of him, he knows exactly what that means. The man dressed like a villain, sounded like a villain and swept into rooms like a villain. He doubted anyone asked Amon about his "sweeping" movements, but he was sure a lot of people noticed it.

Amon's behavior went beyond Michael's comprehension. Michael had started looking up to the man whom he had known during his entire stay at the STN-J. Amon was the only leader he's ever known, so he's never had anyone to compare him to. But, he was positive that Amon was somehow different from all of the other Solomon hunters. Though Amon rarely showed a soft side, he was never extraordinarily mean to anyone. The older man had also taken much of the brunt of Zaizen's anger, or so he's heard. It must be tough, being the leader of an elite squad.

His recent behavior was confusing Michael, though. He thought he was beginning to somewhat understand Amon's modus operandi, but then the guy goes and says a bunch of kids his age should be the ones opening a dangerous box. Amon wasn't exactly the nice guy type, but he at least stayed within social norms most of the time. Michael hazarded a glance at his team leader. What was he thinking?

Amon looked over at him. The guy had an intense stare, he had to give him that. "Where are the others?" Michael asked, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with being alone with Amon.

"They're eating."

Michael smiled. In some ways Amon was very predictable. "I guess Mrs. Weasley wasn't too happy about sharing the food."

"She wasn't."

It was like talking to a brick wall. It's not like he was doing anything else that occupied his attention. "Did the old man force her to cook?"

"If by force, you mean ask. Then yes."

"Ah." Michael looked at Amon, who was currently staring off into space. Or was he concentrating? Amon's variety in facial expression was limited to one determined look most of the time.

What did Robin see in him anyway. She wasn't the type to go for a guy just because he's tall, dark and supposedly handsome. He didn't have much of a personality, that's for sure. Michael readjusted his glasses. Women were far too complicated sometimes.

"What are you still doing here?"

Michael looked over. Amon was eyeing him. Apparently Michael wasn't the only one interested in people watching. "What do you mean?"

"You haven't eaten anything yet."

"100 yen says you haven't either."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point."

Amon stared at the boy. Michael didn't know why he was so argumentative. He was sure there were a few glaring reasons, but he rarely ever confronted people, especially Amon.

"You're worrying about not contributing to the team."

Michael half-smiled. "It's that obvious, huh?"

"It's understandable."

Michael glanced over at Amon. Was this some sort of pep talk? "I don't think you guys could understand."

"Everyone else is as frustrated as you, Michael."

"I highly doubt that."

Amon glared at him. "What sort of position do you think the others are in now?" Michael tightly closed his mouth. "They are as lost as you are," Amon continued.

"But they can help. They can do something."

"Help whom? Do what? What is it that you think we're doing? This hunt that we're involved in is just a front." Michael blinked. "All we're doing is buying time."

Michael stared closely at Amon, who had turned away indicating that the conversation was over. Buying time? He supposed Amon was right. Without being able to link themselves with Solomon, they really had no business hunting witches.

It was strange, though, suddenly thinking that at some point they may be going back to the way things were. The other hunters practically gave up their own social lives almost to the same extent as Michael had. But they were still a part of some family somewhere on the planet. Someone was waiting for him to return to America. He had friends back home whom he hadn't seen for years. The others must have similar lives.

But Amon didn't. As the lead hunter, Amon was on-call 24 hours a day and participated in hunts separate from group assignments. Michael heard that Amon was younger than him when he first started. He was the one most dedicated to Solomon and, in the end, had the most to lose from rebelling against them.

"Amon, I - "

"Go downstairs," Amon interrupted. "The others were asking for you."

Michael nodded and walked out of the room, making sure he didn't look back to see Amon's expression. He guessed it wouldn't be the same mask he always seemed to have on.

Sakaki couldn't believe that the first homemade meal he would have in a few years was coming from a witch. It looked and tasted good - good enough to banish all thoughts of poison simply out of the necessity to eat something which wasn't cooked in a microwave.

Though starving, he wasn't about to ask for seconds. It was weird enough that the witches were feeding them. He wasn't going to push his luck,which, on a good day, would allow him to avoid tripping down the stairs, and on a bad day, well, every day at work was a bad day for Sakaki. Karma had it out for him, he just knew it.

Doujima was eating, as was Michael, who had finally made an appearance. He needed another male to talk to who wasn't a witch and who definitely wasn't Amon. Unfortunately, Michael was sitting at the opposite end of the table.

Next to him, neither Karasuma nor Robin looked like they were enjoying themselves. Karasuma seemed to be debating on what was the proper way to handle accepting food from the enemy, while Robin sparingly ate between glances at the door and Amon's empty seat. Sakaki may be a rookie hunter and a little slow at putting two and two together, but he was pretty sure why Robin was acting the way she did. She must be scared without the most powerful hunter around.

He covertly glanced at the witches sitting at the far end of the table. The younger kids had ventured downstairs and braved the company. Though the twins had been exuberant before, the group seemed more depressed than they usually were. He guessed it was because of the school cancellation, though Sakaki never knew a kid who was sad about that sort of thing before. These kids were definitely weird. This whole teaching witches how to fight thing was freaking him out. Education always led to more powerful and smarter enemies. He did not want to face decades of graduates.

Sakaki's stomach rumbled again, despite his best efforts to quiet it down. Karasuma nudged her plate over to him. "If you're still hungry..."

He gave her a sheepish grin and slid her plate closer to him. "I guess I should've eaten something before we left."

"I doubt that would've changed anything," Doujima commented.

Sakaki narrowed his eyes. Why was it so easy for others to suddenly start making fun of him? "Your obviously hungry, too."

"But I'm not the one scarfing down Miho's meal."

"Well...she didn't offer it to you."

"That's probably because I didn't lick my plate clean."

"I didn't lick my plate clean."

"Please, it looks like nothing was ever on it."

"Yurika, Sakaki, settle down," Karasuma interrupted. She nervously looked over at the other witches and turned back to Doujima. "It doesn't matter how much Sakaki eats."

"I suppose not," Doujima conceded. "After all, he is still growing."

Sakaki flushed bright red. "I'm plenty grown up," he shouted, standing up.

"Sure. By your reaction, I can totally tell."

"You're nothing but a spoiled brat!"

"Sakaki," Karasuma reprimanded, standing up to meet him near eye level. "Sit down. You're acting like a child."

"Just because you act and dress like an old maid doesn't make you my mom," Sakaki blurted.

The table was silent, and all the witches were looking in their direction. Sakaki bit his lip. He was going to get slapped.

"Why you little..." Karasuma's words trailed off. She instinctively tugged at her blazer, smoothing it back into its normal position. Lifting her hand, she tucked an invisible strand of hair behind her ear and trailed her fingers down the rest of her short hair. "Everyone should finish their food," Karasuma said softly. "Amon will most likely want to brief us at some point soon." She turned around and swiftly left the dining room.

Sakaki fell back into his seat and stared at the plate.

"You certainly did it now," Doujima taunted.

Sakaki turned his head as far as it could away from Doujima. "Shut up," he said under his breath.

"I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding," Robin said quickly, abandoning her food altogether. "You were just angry. I'll try and talk to Karasuma." Robin got up and ran out of the door.

Michael was quietly finishing his meal, while Doujima rolled her eyes and did the same. Sakaki moved some of the food around on his plate. He wasn't really hungry anymore.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice," Lupin said, gracing him with that same smile he gives everyone, even after the full moon has just past. "We really need your help."

He gave him a half-smile in return and politely stomped out his cigarette before entering the moldy house. He'd never heard Lupin talking about this shack before. Apparently it was top secret. Then again, secrets were his speciality.

Looking up at the staircase, he saw two girls talking. One had strange looking pigtails and a dress that would better fit a nun than a pretty girl like her. The other he believed to be young, but she dressed like a business woman. He shrugged. Maybe his thoughts on women wearing feminine things was either too modern or too traditional.

A third figure walked down the staircase toward the two girls, but stopped short when he saw the man standing in the doorway.

Lupin curiously looked behind him. The man chuckled. "Well, this certainly is a surprise, eh, otouto."