Chapter 8 – Japanese Tea Time
Standard Disclaimer: All story characters and plot devices belong to JK Rowling.
Summary: I decided to break the summary up into the various plot lines that I promise will mesh soon.
Ron and Hermione's relationship is advancing. George lied to them, saying Harry was fine to keep them in Australia looking for her parents.
Ginny told Luna about her meeting with Harry and enlisted her father in finding out more about the Arcane times.
We learned a bit more about Neville and Harry's gift to him, and the DA decided to visit Diagon Alley during the grand reopening.
The Death Eaters have a trace on Harry's wand and are waiting for him to use it to track him.
Kreacher went through a major transformation due to Harry's emergence from coma and increasing power.
kohai/sempai - a complex relationship similar to mentee/mentor.
Darkness, the totality of nothingness, in here time had no meaning. There were no events, nothing to break the monotony of silent blackness. There was something that stirred some time ago, nothing more than a faint stirring, a flash of warmth and completeness. Capturing that moment and reliving it was the one thing that kept madness in the overwhelming darkness away. After that brief impression, he could locate other areas of sensation in the abyss. However, one came unbidden to him, pain. It was a somewhat welcome visitor from the endless purgatory of nothing and it rolled over in waves, caressing him with its intense sensation, for which he was grateful. As it became his constant companion, however, it became less novel and more unbearable, the agonizing waves swallowing more and more of his mind. As the agony climaxed, the darkness began to recede and light stormed into his vision in unrelenting rays and spots.
He groaned and shoved his palms into his eyes and set his other senses to bear on his surroundings. He was lying down, and it was obviously light outside, with the faint smell of bamboo and flowers. The floor he was prone on seemed woven and hard but not entirely uncomfortable. Peeking through his hands, he noticed a shoji screen and a room that was unmistakably Japanese. He sat up slowly and took note of his body. He seemed relatively healthy which was in stark contrast to what he remembered of his escape from the clinic. With atrophied muscles, he lurched from the futon, put on a track suit, and mustered a weak, "Hello?" Receiving no response, he moved from the room towards the staircase leading down. "Hello?"
Dr. Saito's face appeared at the bottom and beckoned him down, "Slowly Mr. Potter, you've had quite a … rough go of it. We'll be waiting for you down here, unless you need assistance?"
We? Harry gave a half-hearted wave as he gingerly stepped down the stairs, the agonizing prickle of nerves reawakening following him. He collapsed into a simple dining chair surrounding a low table and groaned at the spread before him. Eight potions … no eggs, no potatoes, no bacon, just these eight potions. Harry raised an eyebrow waiting for an explanation, hoping for the real breakfast to arrive.
"These five are nutritive, these two are blood replenishing, and this is a mild pepper up potion." Hideki explained as he grouped the vials. "Maybe a bit of tea afterwards to help start the day." His relaxed smile calmed a bit of Harry's nerves. Honestly, tea sounds amazing right now. He eyed the cup Hideki put down with a relieved sigh.
"I am sure you have many, many questions, and I will try and answer them as best I can, but first…" his healer gestured to the potions apologetically. Harry grimaced, he wanted answers which meant a slew of awful tasting drinks, hopefully, the tea chaser would clear that up. He managed not to retch as threw back the vials two at a time, if being at Hogwarts with Madame Pomfrey taught him nothing, it was how to handle his potions. He grabbed the tea cup and drank greedily, ignoring the burning heat.
Hideki looked a bit chagrined at the offended look on his patient's face. "It's not breakfast tea or Earl Grey, it's green tea. Hmm, perhaps, a bit of lemon, sugar, maybe some honey?"
"Or flavor?" Harry sarcastically joked. The tea tasted like dirt, dirt infused with more dirt. It was bitter and earthy. It wasn't soothing like English tea, more like revitalizing in a forced kind of way. "Kenji! Mr. Potter has dishonored your tea." Hideki barely kept the mocking tone from his voice and gave Harry a quick wink and waited for his son. Kenji didn't disappoint, racing around the corner with an outraged face.
He was in his mid-twenties, with an angular face seemingly cut from marble. Jet black, shoulder length hair framed his tanned face; it was obvious that whatever treatments Harry would be getting here would continue to include outside physical training. He was shorter than Harry by a few inches, but exuded confidence and an easy, almost feral grace that seemingly increased his already impressive physical presence. But what Harry found most fascinating was Kenji's eyes; they were so dark as to be almost black with flecks of gold in his irises. This was a man that commanded respect. Harry unconsciously tried to tame his hair, and sit straighter in his seat.
Noticing his father's silent laughter, he grunted and sat down heavily across from Harry with an annoyed sigh. He sipped his own green tea and spat it out ingloriously right in Harry's face. The intimidating presence and command fled instantly, and when he looked at his father doubled over in laughter, swore long and hard in Japanese, and marched back to presumably the kitchen. After a few moments, a white missile thumped Harry's chest; it was a towel.
For his face. The one with the tea and spittle on it.
Hideki smiled inwardly, he knew his son was always intimidating. Kenji's own legacy sharpened his mind and body in a way that cowed others, and to set them on equal footing more or less right away could only make this go smoother. Harry heard grumbling from the kitchen area and Hideki nodded quickly to the front door. His healer had a maniacal twinkle in his eye, one that the Marauders often displayed, and to avoid Kenji's fury, they slipped quietly outside.
"I slipped grass clippings into his tea this morning", Hideki said laughing, "Kenji, my son, can be rather … intimidating on first meeting". Harry noticed now that they were outside, that the Saito's home rested in the center of what seemed to a temple, in the shadow of a mountain. As he took in the amazing view, his Healer led him down a short path to a reflecting pool with dozens of brilliant koi lazily swimming. "Ask away Harry, I am sure your mind is full of questions". And it was true, Harry sat down in the grass as he tried to find the most important ones to ask.
"Where are we, and why am I here?" Harry needed to know his immediate surroundings; any interesting information would come later. "Ahh Harry, we are at Mt. Hiei, and you are here to continue your therapies. Just because we had a minor setback does not mean you can give up." Hideki seemed awfully calm for someone who looked panicked just a few moments …
"How long was I unconscious?" Harry asked concerned. He blew out a sigh of relief as his healer held up one finger. "Just a day, seems your healing skills are right up there with Madame Pomfrey's." Any more compliments died on Harry's lips as he saw Hideki shake his head slowly, "A week Mr. Potter and even that was surprising given the nature of your wounds." A whole week? "I was out for a whole week, just lying there?" Harry's annoyance came mostly because Hideki did nothing but horrifically kill Alecto after he had wanted to try and spare her.
"Well I almost didn't make it last time from that minor setback, somebody did nothing and watched." Harry's annoyance wasn't even minutely disguised, he was angry at his healer. Hideki had the decency to be a bit shamefaced, but he made his way down to Harry's spot and sat down beside him. "It is a long story Mr. Potter, are you sure you would like to hear it?"
"Does it involve my father?" Harry was anxious to continue the talk they started in the States.
"Eventually, perhaps, but you must hear the whole story to see if you can be trusted with what we have built here. I did not lie when I said my views are controversial at best and traitorous at worst. I would prefer not to have the sword of Damocles held above me for trusting the wrong person." Harry frowned slightly at the healer implication; he did just save Saito's life. If that wasn't enough to earn his trust, then this secret must hold some real power. "I will listen" was Harry's only response.
"I apologize for my inability to help, but you must understand that we are near Squibs, we can barely do transfigurations, such as the sword from her wand, and the fundamentals of mind magic. I believe you call it Occulomency and Legilimency."
"Then how on Earth were you assigned as a healer to me, of all people?" Harry blurted out, and quickly realized how cutting a remark it was, despite his intentions. He had questioned the very efforts of a man who had helped him stay sane after Ginny unloaded on him, and through his teachings survived the Death Eaters' ambush. He sounded ungrateful at best, a raging asshole or like a Malfoy at worst.
"I am sorry Dr. Saito, truly your therapies have helped and I shouldn't have spoken so out of turn." Dr. Saito regarded him carefully and was silent for minutes before continuing on.
"As I said before at the clinic, wizards and witches have not always used wands as their channelers. In a more ancient time, these wizards channeled magic through themselves exclusively, this ability to tap directly into the Fade labeled them as an Arcane magi." Hideki Saito waited patiently to see if his young charge could ask the right question.
"Like my father? That night Voldemort attacked us?" Harry was glad that his healer's earlier chastising had focused him so clearly on that memory. "Well where are the Arcane wizards now, and why do we have wands?" Harry held up his beloved holly and phoenix feather wand and gave it a nervous twirl around his fingers. "And what does that have to do with being a near Squib?"
"A question then, Mr. Potter, if there was a certain type of magic that was powerful and accessible to only a chosen few, would it take the majority of witches and wizards long to realize there was a ceiling to how far they could advance magically and politically? And when the majority took control from the chosen few, what better way to bind that magic than with a wand?" Before Harry had a chance to think of all that entailed, Hideki answered his third question.
"It is a familiar story for those of us here in Japan. We are the descendants of the Arcane magi here. As our political influence increased, so did our enemies, eventually we were forced into secrecy, and when Buddhism arrived, we conveniently intertwined the ideas of spiritual enlightenment to explain our gifts to others. With its rising popularity we began to reemerge as part of the martial portion of the Buddhist order. It was to afford us a chance at real political capital, to use to reintroduce slowly the return of the magi."
Hideki's bitterness was not lost on Harry, as he spoke so passionately about the experience, it was almost as if his healer was there for all of these events in person. His story telling of history was animated and enthralling, something that Professor Binns never even accidentally managed. It also felt pertinent, and so Harry would not rush his healer's story because he felt some of it was in preparation for something vitally important to him. Harry prompted Hideki with open hands for more.
"We were the sohei or warrior monks, as we are often portrayed in movies" Harry rolled his eyes, but couldn't argue with that ridiculous stereotype, "and we continued our training, but even as we grew in stature, we were oblivious to the dangers around us. Believing the religious neutrality would ensure our immediate safety, we were … unprepared for the brutality that occurred on this very mountain." Harry glanced around trying to imagine what possibly could have shaken the same man who killed a witch by piercing her throat with a sword.
"They burned and razed this whole complex to the ground, women, children, it made no difference, they all burned. Of the thirty survivors, each had their magic bound to their bloodline. For eternity. We paid dearly for our carelessness, but channeled our considerable fortunes into those thirty remaining to continue our rigorous training and hide them from those that would extinguish our line permanently. Our efforts, even without magic, quickly bore fruit in the finest swordsman the world has ever known."
"Miyamoto Musashi" Harry whispered reverently. The man's teachings and his five books on the elements had already saved his life once. The texts were powerful, but if it were possible that these sohei would train him in the same fashion as the great swordsman, then he would be that much closer to returning home or forcing his way back.
"My son, Kenji, is actually my ward, I am not sohei" Hideki stated flatly and with a heavy heart. "I am the gatekeeper and historian of the Legion here in Japan; it is my job to seek out those that may help us reclaim our rightful place, which included your father. Kenji is the most able direct line descendant of Miyamoto Musashi and the sohei. It is his judgment you must seek if you want to learn more than the basics of what I have and will continue to teach you."
Harry had been trying to focus on what Hideki was saying, but when he heard about his father, his mind froze and tried to understand what his father could've done to help them. "Dr. Saito, you mentioned my father, and how he was meant to help you, did he arrange some kind of deal for your training?" And do I carry the burden of that treaty?
Hideki Saito watched as the teenager's anxiety noticeably increased and the last question indicated why. Yes, the treaty still could bind Harry Potter to his father's oath, but truthfully, he could never force Harry to do it, even if it went against the Legion's needs. Harry had suffered greatly in his life, watching his parents and friends die, being a war hero at seventeen, but most importantly, Hideki liked and respected the Potter scion. He was not lying when he confessed to Ginny that he had become quiet fond and protective of Harry.
"But why have we never heard of this ethnic cleansing? I mean that's barbaric, even from the 1500s." Harry's naïve question almost made Hideki laugh, but also saddened him deeply. It reminded him that his patient was still a boy in a manner of speaking.
"Because the victor gains the spoils of war, and perhaps more importantly tells the stories to justify their actions. It happens everywhere, Muggles and Wizarding worlds both, it happens in Britain and it happens to concern you and your father."
Harry listened hard to Hideki's tone. It was matter of fact but tinged with something else, trepidation, concern … testing his resolve. This information is dangerous, but at least he is giving me a choice in the matter. "Could it help me go home, this information?"
"It could, but it could also put your life in more jeopardy." Harry growled at Hideki's rejoinder. It was always dangerous, nothing was easy for him; hell just his breathing must be fraught with peril too. But he wanted to be as prepared as possible, at least then he could make sound decisions. So he nodded to his healer.
"Britain's arcane period began to decline shortly after William of Normandy invaded. The influx of new ideas and political influence began to push back against the established magi. Those with money and power in the majority used the proliferation of wands and their sheer numbers to drive the arcane mages underground."
"But if the arcane mages were so powerful then why didn't they just fight?" Harry interrupted. If this were the case, then the two sides were at war, they should've fought for their freedom. "Who had this much influence to push them out?"
"Powerful as they were, they couldn't kill all of the newly found wizards who were now armed with wands. They retreated, but were hunted. As far as the group, it is the same group that controls Britain now, with the same power and money, only now it is hundreds of generations older." Hideki said with an obvious shrug of his shoulders.
"Pureblood houses. Of a Most Ancient and Noble House" Harry spat the moniker out of his mouth with as much venom as he could manage.
"Careful young Potter" Hideki emphasized his surname carefully. "You are the lord of two of those very same Houses. It is an incestuous thing, wizarding politics; it is not as cut and dry as you would wish. But you are in a unique position. After the disappearance of most of the Arcane magi from the British Isles, there was a documented return of one group." Saito paused for a moment, hoping that Harry would provide an answer. When none came, he continued on with a slight clue, "The return of the some of the most powerful wizards who had crafted items of ancient power …."
"The Peverells" Harry said, shocked as the pieces began to take shape as to why he was here.
The Cauldron was already whirring in motion when George arrived after closing the shop. Kreacher's help actually extended even beyond his Master's lab; the inventor found the elf's ideas for even the mundane pranks and jokes for the regular customers to be quite good. As the new line of Wheezes were taking shape, blessedly about a month beginning of school term, George knew this year, the store would be a smash. Fred would be proud of all the joy and Galleons, don't forget Galleons, our store has made. And these wicked inventions for Harry, Fred would have loved them too. Ruminating on his brother's reaction to the store now, George pricked his thumb and swiped the door. Assaulted by the smells and sounds of the research lab, he saw his faithful researcher hunched over an impossibly dark cloak. Has Kreacher gotten taller? As the twin was about to ask Kreacher if he was wearing platform shoes again, the elf turned to him and smiled.
"FUCK! Kreacher, what, what happened?" George barely even enunciated that much due to his shock at Harry's elf. His golden eyes bore into George's and he smiled even wider, "Changes compliments of my Master, Master Harry is awake and his magic is growing."
"Umm, looks good. Sorry I was just a bit startled to see the changes. And Harry is up? How can you tell?" George ventured closer to Kreacher and while giving him the once over declared, "Definitely an improvement, you just look like a small person now, well with golden eyes, but still Harry's been good for you." The house elf bowed deeply at the compliment, "I knew Master Harry was awake when the transformation occurred, and yes, I am surprised at his early recovery as well" He smiled prideful of his Master's surprising resilience and gestured to the cloak.
"Would Master Weasley like to start the second infusion or begin the runic enchantments?" There was very little friction between the two, they listened to each other's interpretations of Harry's requests and always came to a consensus before moving forward, it made for slower work, but items of incredible quality, always trying to give Harry just a bit more to help him along. "I am still working on the precise placement of the runes, so I think maybe the infusion, you?"
Kreacher nodded in assent, "The runes are the most important, so we should try and make those absolutely right, the second infusion it is." As he moved to collect the crystal cauldron and the liquid matrix of Everlasting Elixir and thestral blood, George began carefully removing two satchets of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. Once Kreacher had the liquid mixture humming along in the cauldron, George emptied the satchets into the stirring liquid. Both he and Kreacher held their breaths, many previous attempts of this step included fierce blackouts of the lab which in an experimental warded facility proved quiet … risky with exploding and other deadly reagents with a fumbling arms' reach. Much of George's hair had been regrown many times over the course of this project. So they now had a tactile pathway built into the floor on the off chance that the overwhelming darkness would return. As the powder slowly seeped into the liquid, they exhaled. This infusion plus one other and Harry's Shade Cloak, first of its kind, would be completed.
"You are a Peverell, a direct male line descendent, the only one. Your ancestor, Ignotus, created his one cloak, to hide his children; it hides everything, even magical signatures. But he couldn't choose which of his children would inherit his gift and as he watched them murdered, he sacrificed his greatest magical gift, the Fade and Void by binding the power from his line. He extinguished the last Arcane line on the Isles to save them."
Harry was confused, he knew he was a Peverell. But how had my father and I broken the binding? "Hideki, how …"
"Desperation, Mr. Potter and maybe if your father had more time could have controlled it better. And you, well, the Dark Lord's Horcrux has afforded you a chance to dislodge it completely by fracturing your core essence. It will require me and my son's help he can show you how to focus your body, while I focus your mind." He nodded beyond his shoulder and Harry noticed Kenji with a satisfied smirk approaching. Hideki nodded to his son.
"You owe me a new teapot Father, and you" pointing dead into Harry's face, "will give me everything you have and I will make you worthy of the Legion."
Remembering Hideki's warning, Harry would not be intimidated. "If I give you everything I have, you will be dead on the floor." He stood a few inches taller than the now grinning man, sporting an equally challenging smirk.
"We'll see, Harry Potter, tomorrow you learn to be more."
Harry assumed Kenji's tomorrow meant morning, but in the still darkness of predawn, he woke up staring into those strange black eyes.
"Come." Kenji vanished out the door, silent as the wind.
Harry felt like a braying donkey in comparison, nothing quiet or subtle about fumbling in the dark and falling down a flight of stairs.
Kenji's not so subtle sigh was the first clue of how hard a teacher he would prove to be.
It wasn't so much a ten mile jog but a life or death sprint for ten miles. Kenji's breathing was unlabored but Harry collapsed under the onslaught of deep oxygen debt and the physical assault that accompanied the run in the darkness. He jerked Harry up and pushed him into a sitting position and forced himself into Harry's mind.
"Just because you are tired is no excuse. People will attack you or your loved ones when you are at your weakest." Kenji snarled at Harry. "Your weakest must be stronger than their best!" He was practically screaming at the struggling wizard, pushing him. Harry was writhing under both the scathing words and painful intrusion into his mind, but slowly pushed the sohei from his weary mind as he protected his most treasured memories the best he could.
"Good, that was acceptable." Kenji said, a faint tone of pride entering his voice. "Now up, we have much training to do today."
Harry had run and practiced more focusing exercises before sun up then he had ever done in a whole day with his healer. When the sun arrived, Kenji and Harry were facing each other armed with wooden swords. "They are made with bamboo so I won't hurt you … too much." Kenji gave him a wolfish smile as Harry snorted indignantly.
"It can't hurt worse than that tea you gave me."
"Says the man who almost died from a training run." Kenji said with an even tone.
The two glared, smirking at each other, testing the other's mettle and finally Harry relented, "How long am I going to need?" Harry's confidence for a quick return to his home wasn't the only thing that took a real beating that morning.
Kenji looked thoughtfully at him, "Honestly, it could take years, but from what my father says, you have desperation and a beautiful redhead as incentive, so perhaps a little less." He chuckled at Harry's blushing face but sobered quickly, "I have been training my whole life so you can't compare yourself to me though; you could never match a true sohei no matter how long you trained."
"Yeah, yeah." Harry adopted the same stance as Kenji. He was going to show his trainer that his father taught him something of value. Harry's confidence slowly returned as he remembered how overconfidence always lead to Draco's failures, this Kenji would be no different. He would regret underestimating him. He saw a flash of movement and six agonizing seconds later, darkness closed in on him.
By mid July, Harry had mastered the ten mile sprint and felt quite proud of himself, only to learn that it would become a warming run for the morning's sparring. Kenji was prophetic, Harry would never match his martial arts skill, nor would he ever be stronger or faster. Ever since the burning of the temple at Mount Hiei, the sohei had perfected the art of fighting and killing. Harry still couldn't believe that the monks had researched that for centuries, but here was the end product in the form of Kenji Saito. He had finally begun to score soft touches on Kenji, but Harry was the one that always required numbing potions at a minimum after a duel.
When dueling one day, Kenji abruptly stopped and glared at Harry. "What the hell are you doing?" he snarled. The real anger on his trainer's face surprised Harry, most of his anger was frustration or fake to push him harder. But today, this was genuine anger, like Harry had offended him somehow.
"Umm, aren't we practicing?" Harry said bewildered.
"You had an opening, and you tried to disarm me. The people after you aren't trying to disarm you." Kenji's anger grew with each admonishment. "THEY. WILL. KILL. YOU." He emphasized each word with a strike against Harry, culminating in a meaty slash to the neck that dropped the wizard.
Harry spat out a tooth and some blood as he lay flat on the grass, groaning through the growing knot in his throat. Kenji's snarling face eclipsed the bright morning sunshine, "This is real Potter, not a duel, no fancy rules, and no protective wards. We don't fight to score points, we fight to kill." He pushed his sword into Harry's neck again. "Do you think Death Eaters care about your compassion? They will use it against you at every opportunity! Do you understand?" He yelled his last question slowly into Harry's face, forcing the words into his mind. For good measure, he gave Harry's ribs a heavy kick. Harry curled up and muttered something to Kenji under his breath.
Kenji leaned over and strained to hear the wheezing wizard. He caught Harry's smirk, just as his foot lashed out and cracked the sohei's knee. As Kenji grunted and dropped forward to his knees, he had enough strength to direct Harry's bamboo sword over his temple and flush into the crown of his head. Kenji spun wildly and collapsed on his back a few feet from Harry's now prone form, his head bleeding from a sizable cut.
"You can kiss my compassionate ass!" called out Harry from the ground. Kenji merely responded with a swift stomp to his groin before he started to slowly laugh. Many moments later, Harry finally recovering from his swollen bits, chuckled and then joined in fully laughing.
"There is hope for you yet, young kohai."
Mercifully, his healer's therapies were of a more focusing technique. As Hideki always told him, "Balance is the key, physical and mental, light and dark. Always remember, the Fade is not good or bad, it is raw magic, to channel it you must always be balanced." Harry knew that while the rage fueled destruction of Alecto did win their freedom, it cost him dearly. He winced in pain as the memory trickled down his back across the silvery gashes, the cost of his imbalance.
Mainly it was awareness training, what his magic felt like in his mind, how to begin to shape it there in his conscious, before releasing it. It was so different than producing a spell verbally and with movement. His first real wandless attempts were colorful displays of faint magic, but Hideki was pleased. His healer told him that channeling the Fade was going to be a learned skill and that it could be used to augment his wand magic. For now it was to prevent more injuries from exposure to too much raw magic. Something in his healer's eyes told him there was more he could say to him about his magic, but Harry had questioned Hideki's motivations far too often with no real or worse wrong reasoning, so he was willing to let him hold his secrets for now.
As Harry collapsed onto his futon after the end of his first week, Kenji and his father shared a knowing glance, went downstairs, and sat down at the kitchen table sipping their green tea. Hideki began his assessment, "His emotional balance is lacking, and I don't foresee him fixing that until we address his brutal abuse at the hands of his relatives. I was hoping you could help him. His wand magic is some of the most innovative and powerful I have seen for his age, and his access to the Fade is better than his father, much more like a Peverell. He could be the one we seek."
The glint in his son's jet black eyes flashed dangerously. "I share the same thoughts, he is not ready right now, but he learns quickly, much like a young child." Hideki noticed something in his son, a mixture of pride and exasperation, "Today, he had an opening and could have really pushed me but he didn't. He needs a foundation to build on but could become something we need."
"Agreed, we must keep him safe until he is ready, which means we have to find out how the British Ministry is tracking him. It's something on his person, his wand, or given his involvement with the Unspeakables, I wouldn't put a blood trace past them either. The first two are easy to test, but they must happen away from here. I will not risk our home. We can build your trust in each other and give him a reason to keep fighting, but we must push him harder." Hideki Saito said with finality. He did not fail to notice that his son was grinning savagely. My kohai was going to find out a lot about himself and quickly.
A/N: Thanks for the views and reviews. Harry's finally getting a few answers and while this was mainly a Harry chapter, the others will have their say in the next few more, plus the showdown in Diagon Alley is coming up!