The moment Nick said 'Death Gods' Ichirou and Shiro let go of the ghost like the touch burned them. Their faces looked like someone had caught them with their hand in the cookie jar, the universal expression of shit, we're doomed. Nick dropped to the floor, and the twins ran into the portrait hole and up the boy's dormitory. Without a word, they were gone up the stairs, leaving three confused and one shocked. Nick, still wide-eyed, gingerly touched the place where Ichirou and Shiro had grabbed him.

"No, it's not possible," Hermione breathed. "No one can touch a ghost."

"Death Gods," Nick murmured again. "And the Hero of the Winter War at that."

"Uh, Nick," Ron ventured, "Care to explain what the bloody hell happened?"

The ghost looked up at the three of them. "Who were those two?" he asked in a shaky voice.

"Transfers from the Shino Academy of Japan," answered Hermione. "But what-"

"Shino Academy. Of course. But what is he," Nick breathed, "doing here? I must go contact the other ghosts." Nick picked himself off the ground and swooped away, leaving the threesome behind with open mouths.

"What-" Ron said, "the bloody hell was that? They grabbed a bloody ghost!"

Up in their room, Ichigo and Shiro slammed their door shut and entered their inner minds. The water had dried up, but the buildings were still little more than rubble. They cleared a small area of broken glass and other building remains before sitting down.

Zangetsu was first to speak. Care to explain what happened?

Ichigo groaned and ran a finger through his hair. It was instinct, all those years of Goat-chin ambushing me. I just reached up and grabbed the Plus.

Damn it, we joined Gryffindor to make sure that Potter kid didn't ask questions! How the hell are we gonna explain this crap?!

And how the hell did the Plus know we were shinigami?

Your energy is still one of Death Gods, though significantly weakened. The real problem is, if the spirits of the schools recognized you as Kurosaki Ichigo. Being famous isn't going to help with our cover. It's best if they just think we are some unranked soldier.

Ichigo frowned in confusion. That shouldn't be a problem, though, seeing as I'm only known in Japan.

Britain's afterlife has records on you too, dumbass. An 15-year old idiot with borrowed shinigami powers who invaded Japan's afterlife with the reiatsu of a captain, and broke into Hueco Mundo, taking out Arrancars left and right, no way in Hell they're gonna overlook that.

Let's hope word from the afterlife doesn't leak into Hogwarts ghosts. Otherwise keeping the shinigami a secret from students could be much harder than it should.

I don't think the ghosts will talk though, they seemed kinda reserved.

Ichigo, tonight I'll go out and talk to the ghosts.

Huh? Won't you be seen?

I'm much quieter than both of you, and smarter too.

Hey! Shiro threw a rock at Zangetsu, who dodged easily.

You two should get some sleep. Get ready for school again and detention for the next month.

Hag had it coming, not my fault her parents were toads.

Good night old man, and good luck with the ghosts.

All three of them left Ichigo's inner world and opened their eyes. Ichigo glanced over at Shiro and his new normal eyes. McGonagall had given contacts that would charm his eyes into normal white and tawny over his black and gold. She had also had a spell cast on his throat to get rid of the Hollow's normal voice. Overall, he seemed more human like, but Ichigo found the whole thing unnatural. He was too used to the black eyes and knife-grating-on-a-stone voice.

Shiro glanced around to make sure the room was secure. The lock was bolted on the door, the floors seemed sturdy, and they were high off the ground judging by the window. It would be safe enough to talk, but he was going to learn some wizard tricks later to sound proof the room. Years of the Stealth Force trying to kill the Vasto Lorde taught him that much. Not that he minded the attacks on him, he actually enjoyed the fight. It was just that they were always too weak and afterward King's head would be pouring rain from supposed guilt.

The Hollow walked over to the window and threw it open, welcoming a cool night breeze. With the breeze came in the remaining Hell Butterflies. While King examined the room further, Shiro listened to the remaining messages. Finally, he sent two Hell Butterflies of his own.

"Hey, Karin, Yuzu," Shiro had been accepted as a second older brother some sixty years back, "don't worry, we're fine. Just got in a situation for the last three months where we couldn't talk, and for now we're resting until around May, so don't expect us home for a while. We'll come sooner if possible. Tell everyone we said hi. And give Goat-Chin a punch for me. Later."

"To the annoying person who keeps sending these report notices, SHUT THE HELL UP! Send out Hell Butterflies with our papers and two extra Soul phones. With all the data that was in the last pair. And what the hell were you dumbasses thinking, giving King's body to Urahara? Do you have your heads up your asses? Give his body to Karin Kurosaki, seated officer of the 10th, or to Yuzu Kurosaki, seated officer of the 4th. And give Yama-Jii my usual complaint on too much paperwork. From Shirosaki Hichigo."

Shiro had just waved away the last message just as Ichigo finished looking through trunks full of extra clothes. In the corner of the room was a huge stack of books, notes, quills, and ink. On top of it all was a note. Ichigo grabbed the note and read it.

I suggest you two start reading. There are four years of schooling to learn. –Professor McGonagall.

Groaning, he picked up a random book and tossed it to Shiro, who snatched it out of air, before grabbing one himself. "Start reading Shiro, we have four years of notes to cover."

(pagebreak)

Zangetsu walked down the hall silently, blending in with the shadows. He had slipped past students using light shunpo. It was turtle-like in comparison to his normal speed, but he didn't want to strain himself. Luckily, the other two were resting in the dorm, so he had more energy than he would have if they were active. It was like they were batteries sending reiatsu to the sword, an odd reverse of the usual situation.

The ghosts, it seemed, had all gathered in a dungeon, probably for a meeting. He followed their faint trails of reiatsu down the castle floors. When he arrived, a ghost, the one Ichigo and Shiro had stopped, was talking to the hundreds of ghosts in the room. Zangetsu slipped in unnoticed and stood in the shadows.

"-and then they caught me by the shoulders!" there were gasps. "Yes, they actually caught me! Now, I looked at their faces and saw the faces of Substitute Death God Kurosaki Ichigo and his twin Vasto Lorde Shirosaki Hichigo!"

Zangetsu wanted to bang his head on the wall. The two had been recognized.

Ichigo, Shiro, you've been found out, he called out mentally to the pair in the dorm.

All around him, ghosts moved around in shock, shouting out to one another and causing general mayhem. The mention of the Hero of the Winter War, as Ichigo was now called, and his twin soul the Vasto Lorde drove the meeting into madness. And no wonder. In the years after the Winter War, Ichigo had grown more and more famous. There had been a scandal for years when he revealed his twin soul, Shiro, but in the last few decades they had convinced Soul Society Shiro wasn't a threat. Ichigo had chosen not to join a squad, but act as an independent substitute. But that didn't stop the Head Commander from sending swarms of Hell Butterflies with mountains of paperwork. Zangetsu was snapped out of his thoughts about the past when a ghost nearly sliced his nose with a sword.

At this point, the zanpakto decided to step in. He let out a bit of pressure, not enough to send them to the floor, but just enough to get them to notice him.

All the ghosts flinched and turned their eyes toward Zangetsu. He stepped out of the shadows and revealed himself. The dead wizards gasped as they recognized him even before he gave his name.

"Zangetsu, sword of Kurosaki Ichigo and Shirosaki Hichigo," said the old man in a clear voice. The other members of the room just stared in shock at him, looking like fish with their open mouths.

The ghost that was telling his tale came to his sense first. "Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, Hogwarts ghost," introduced the ghost, bowing. As he did, Zangetsu noticed a ragged cut around his neck. "Welcome, Sir Zangetsu, to the noble and ancient castle of Hogwarts."

Soon other ghosts snapped out of it too and made their introductions. They seemed slightly scared of him and kept a respectful distance, something Zangetsu didn't mind. If he was a Plus who wanted to stay in the living world he would keep his distance from a zanpakto too. After over a hundred introductions, all of which he forgot (he would never admit it, but he was just as terrible at memorizing names as Ichigo), Nick asked the question all the ghosts had on their minds.

"Sir Zangetsu, if you don't mind, we would like to know why there are Death Gods posing as Hogwarts students?" inquired Nick.

"The Ministry of Magic has been illegally absorbing the," Zangetsu search for a word, "magic, so to say, from my wielders. Although there has been no permanent damage, it will take months of rest to regain the lost energy. It would be easier to do so in Hogwarts than anywhere else."

A ghost from the corner piped up. "Why can't you return to the afterlife and rest there?"

"We are too weak to open a Gate and besides, we owe a favor to the two men for rescuing us from the Ministry."

"Is there any way we can help those two?" asked a motherly figure in the back.

Zangetsu looked gravely at them all. "You can help by keeping our identities a secret." The dead shivered at his cold glare and nodded. Some who were headless held up hands to show they agreed. Seeing as his point was conveyed, Zangetsu gave a curt bow before leaving the dungeon and returning to the dorm.

(pagebreak)

In the common room, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were discussing the impossible event that took place. They were sitting on their three favorite chairs by the fireplace, homework forgotten by their feet.

"See? I told you, there is something wrong about those two!" said Harry.

"Blimey mate, they grabbed a ghost!" said Ron, stating the obvious.

But Hermione was lost in thought. "Nick said something when Ichiro and Shiro grabbed him," she murmured quietly. "Something like 'Death Gods' and 'Hero of the Winter War.'"

"Bloody hell," said Ron, "you don't think he was talking about Death Eaters, Harry?"

The scarred boy shook his head. "He said 'Death Gods' for sure, not Death Eaters," he said. "Although they do sound similar."

"I've never even heard of Death Gods before," said Hermione, rubbing her temples. "Or someone physically touching a ghost for that matter. You're right Harry; there is something wrong about those two."

"'Hero of the Winter War,''' repeated Ron. "Ever heard of a Winter War?"

Both of them shook their heads. Harry could tell all the unanswered questions were killing Hermione with her love of knowing things. It was bugging him too, like an itch he couldn't reach.

"I'm going to look in the library tomorrow," declared Hermione, ever resorting to her trusty source of knowledge. "There must be some mention on Death Gods and a Winter War."

That night, Harry looked up while lying in his bed, trying to figure out the tangled mystery of the twins. They were supposed to be under Ministry watch, and Harry doubted it could be because of some Japanese transferring issue. And what was that about abilities? What were those two capable of? And how was it related to Death Gods and a war? He fell asleep with unanswered questions swirling in his mind.

(pagebreak)

In the morning, Ichiro and Shiro joined Harry and Ron for breakfast in the Great Hall. Hermione had rushed off to the library muttering 'Death Gods', so she was absent from the tables.

"Morning," they mumbled before grabbing a cup of strong black coffee each. Wearily, they grabbed various ingredients to mix into their drink. They had dark shadows under their eyes, and walked with a slump.

"Blimey, what's got into them? They look like ghouls," whispered Ron to Harry.

"We heard that Ron," muttered Shiro, not looking up from mixing ketchup with mustard. Ron's ears turned red. Harry reached over and grabbed his arm before Shiro could slip the mixture into his coffee.

Shiro looked up and scowled. "What?" he asked irritably.

"You were going to spill the sauce into your coffee," said Harry.

Shiro jerked his arm out of Harry's grasp. "That's what I planned to do, idiot." He then dunked the revolting mix of condiments into his cup and stirred. Both Ron and Harry almost gagged. Wordlessly, as if by telepathic communication, Ichiro passed his twin some soy sauce and Shiro poured that into his cup too. Looking at the orange haired twin, Harry saw him calmly, if not tiredly stirring hot sauce and relish into his coffee.

"Are you mental?" cried out Ron as they both lifted their cups to drink. "That's stuff's lethal!"

They ignored him and drank deeply into the poisonous substance. Ron and other nearby observers turned green at the sight. One boy rushed off to the bathroom to upchuck his breakfast. Ichiro and Shiro drained their cups and slammed them down on the table.

"We were feeling a little tired, and made this to wake ourselves up," explained Ichiro.

The two did seem a bit more awake, Harry thought. But then again, the drink would have woken the dead. At least the transfers had a fairly normal breakfast afterwards; Harry didn't think his stomach could last if he saw them eating poison again.

In Double Charms, Hermione met up with them seeming thoroughly irritated. "Not a single word!" she yelled. "Not a single reference to them, or a war, nothing!" She slammed her bag onto a table and sat in sullen anger. Across the room, the twins sat close to the back.

Professor Flitwick started the class with a lecture on the O.W.L.s. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Shiro sleeping on his desk, not even trying to stay hidden. Professor Flitwick noticed the sleeping figure too and yelled out, "Mr. Kuro! Please demonstrate a Summoning Charm."

Shiro, you're called on to do the Summoning Charm.

Huh, what?

Shiro, Summoning Charm demonstration!

Damn it, I was asleep! King, tell me how to do it! Buy me some time!

Ichigo sighed and began to relay the basics of the lesson. At the same time, he faced the small teacher. "Professor Flitwick, do you mean me or my twin?" He asked in a slow voice to stall time while rapidly cramming information into Shiro's brain.

"Your twin, Mr. Kuro," answered Flitwick. "Please demonstrate the Summoning Charm by summoning this cushion."

You got it?

Yah, I think I can do it.

Shiro stood up from his desk and pulled out a long white wand. It glinted strangely in the light, and with a start Harry realized that it was made out of pure metal. Next to him students whispered, "Poor bloke, he was sleeping the whole lesson."

Shiro waved his wand and said in a clear voice, "Acio cushion!" The cushion zoomed towards the white haired boy, and Shiro easily caught it with his free hand.

A perfect demonstration of the charm.

Professor Flitwick, who had been expecting a fail, was surprised at the excellent performance. "Well done, Mr. Kuro, well done indeed!" He clapped his small hands together. "Five points to Gryffindor!"

Hermione was aghast. "He was sleeping! I saw him! He never looked up once!" she said as they walked out the classroom.

Ron shrugged. "Maybe Ichiro passed him his notes or something," he offered.

Harry doubted it. "I didn't see him pass his notes. Most likely they already knew the spell. They are fifth years," said Harry to a furious Hermione as they entered their next class.

Transfiguration started the same as Charms. Only this time, the two were asked to be seated in the front of the room. Shiro grinned widely and Ichigo's scowl deepened, but they did as the professor asked. When Professor McGonagall passed out the snails, Ichigo asked for a demonstration. Nodding once, Professor pulled out her wand and preformed the spell.

Ichigo observed closely the way she manipulated her reiatsu. It was more delicate than kido, but with the wands it was easier to control. The wand, he noticed, were like an icing pen for a cake. It made the wielder's power more compact and thus easier to control. But Ichigo resolved to try casting spells without wands at a later date. Who knew, it might be helpful in a fight.

Both Shiro and Ichiro focused their energy into Zangetsu's wand form and tried to twist their reiatsu like McGonagall. They were lucky the spells required little magic, or else their recovery would have been much slower. On their second try, both snails disappeared completely. McGonagall gave them and Hermione ten points each for successfully vanishing their snails, and class ended with them being the only three to not have homework.

During their lunch hour, Harry and Ron finished their potions essay while Hermione continued to search in the library. She darted around shelf to shelf, frantically searching for anything in the books. Finally, she ran over to them, her bushy hair flying. Again, there was nothing to be said about a Death God, or a Winter War. All three left for Care of Magical Creatures soon afterwards.

There they gathered around a pile of twigs on a table, which soon turned out to be bowtruckles. As usual, Hermione answered all questions perfectly and they were all assigned to draw one. However, when Ichiro and Shiro approached them, the bowtruckles began to act strangely. Some ran towards Ichiro, who just reached down and grabbed them before they could claw out his eyes. Others ran away in fear from Shiro, flailing their limbs as they ran. Shiro calmly summoned one towards him, it screaming in terror as it flew through the air. Professor Grubbly-Plank shot them a questioning glance as she gathered up the small creatures.

"Some animals hate me, and they get scared of Shiro," said Ichiro matter-of-factly as they sat down to draw.

Indeed, the creature, when being held by Ichiro, swiped his hand with long sharp claw, that didn't seem to do anything to his skin. And it absolutely froze in terror when in the grip of Shiro, its body stiff and looking like it was on the edge of having a breakdown. When class was over Harry wondered if the poor creature would ever be in the right state of mind.

At five, Harry sat inside Umbridge's horribly pink office. His plea of moving detention at a later date had failed, and the toad was still smiling smugly. Harry felt the urge to throw his ink bottle at her.

The doors to the office opened and Ichiro and Shiro strode in with their hands in their pockets. Again, they radiated this attitude of don't give a shit and wordlessly sat down on either side of Harry. Umbridge smiled like she caught a rather juicy fly and passed out a quill to each of them. It was a long and thin feather with a strangely sharp point.

"I want Mr. Potter to write 'I must not tell lies," she said to Harry, then turned to the twins, " and I want Mr. Kuro and Mr. Kuro to rewrite, 'I will respect my superiors.'

"How many times, Toad-Face?" asked Shiro, twirling his feather like a wand.

Umbridge turned purple and said with forced sweetness, "Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in,"

"You haven't given us any ink," Harry said.

"Oh, you won't need ink," said Professor Umbridge.

The first line cut into Harry's hand but quickly healed. He let out a gasp and glanced over on both sides to the twins. Their expressions were curiously blank, but they didn't stop writing or let out any indications of being shocked.

Their faces were blank because, unknown to Harry, they were on auto-pilot, with half of their minds focused on keeping Zangetsu back.

The usually calm sword was raging, barely being pinned down by the combined effort of Ichigo and Shiro.

LET ME GO! I'LL KILL THE WITCH, FIND HER SOUL AND KILL IT AGAIN! he roared, swinging the meat-cleaver of a sword around.

Old man! Calm down! shouted Shiro, while desperately attempting to pin down his arms.

Old man! It's just a scratch, we had worse and you know that! We hardly feel it!

THAT (insert here your preferred curses)THINKS SHE CAN CUT US AND GET AWAY WITH IT?! THAT(again, insert your preferred curses)

Look, old man, we'll use hierro, alright? And we'll break the reiatsu on the quill. Just give us some time to get the workings of the magic!

Outside of their minds, Ichiro and Shiro were still writing, blood dripping from their hands in ruby streams. When they filled a page, they grabbed another parchment and wrote out a gallon of blood on that. They worked without a single comment, their eyes half closed and faces blank.

Harry felt like throwing up when he saw the stack of bloody papers piled on the corners of their desks. How they could write so calmly and emotionlessly, he had no idea. Umbridge had noticed their robotic manner too, and had a slight frown on her toady face.

"Come here," she said after what seemed like hours.

Harry stood up, but the twins were still sitting and writing like their hands weren't a bloody mess and dark pools of blood wasn't dripping onto the horrible pink floor. Harry felt sick at the sight but inwardly thought I hope it stains.

Umbridge frowned and said a bit louder, "Come here."

There was still no movement but the steady scratch of bloody quill on bloody parchment.

"Mr. Kuros!" she shrieked, her patience lost. "Come here!"

Both finally snapped their heads up in surprise. They looked like someone who was sleeping had woken up by a bucket of water. They glanced down at their hands in shock and disgust. The wound seemed to have difficulty closing, and blood still seeped through.

"Hand," she said. Ichiro and Shiro ignored her and just flicked their hands like they were flicking off water. Blood splatters grew on the ugly ornamental plates with kittens. Umbridge winced as some blood landed just below her eye.

"Here," Shiro and Ichiro both extended a bloody hand. Umbridge looked as if she was going to grab the hands with her stubby fingers, but decided not to in order to keep her rings clean. But in Harry's opinion, the bloody could have been an improvement, as they could cover up how ugly the rings were.

"Tut, tut, I don't seem to think to have made much of an impression yet," she said, her smile obviously forced as she wiped away the blood from under her eye. "Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? You may go."

The three of them left without a word. When they had gone far away enough to be out of the hearing range of Umbridge, Ichiro and Shiro walked over to a water fountain and washed off the blood. Harry watched their calm demeanor in shock before turning on them.

"What were you thinking! Cutting yourself up like that?!" he said.

Shiro glanced up from his hand, "If you haven't noticed, genius, you were doing the same."

"But you two were just sitting there, emotionless!" he argued. "And you wrote an entire stack of lines! What if that scars?"

Ichiro finished washing and glanced up. "If I were you, Harry, I would worry about yourself," he stated with his ever present scowl. "We can handle small cuts like these."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but whatever he was about to say died in his throat. Ichiro's wound began to cover itself with a bone white substance, bubbling like plaster. He watched with awe and horror as the wound was sealed and the substance hardened. Ichiro then swung the back of his hand against the wall, and the white substance shattered like chalk. When he held it up again, the skin underneath was smooth and healed, with no trace of injury.

"Close the mouth before it catches a fly, Harry," said Shiro, also swinging his hand against the wall. Harry shut his mouth before opening it again.

"Is that your special ability?" asked the scarred boy.

Ichiro's scowl deepened. "Maybe." He and Shiro then walked past Harry with fully healed hands."Good night, Harry, see you in the morning."

Harry could only watch them as they walked away. "Who are you?" he murmured to nobody before walking after them.

Bwah-ha-ha! Chapter up! R&R please!