AN: I know some of you don't really like the Mike bits much, but it's plot necessity so it's a very Mike heavy chapter. Sorry. T-T Is it bad that due to all the little scenes between them that play out in my head, Kazuto/Marzanna, which I'm the creator of, is becoming one of my OTPs?
Review responses:
orion0905- Well, I'm not entirely sure yet if they'll get their tattoos in SAO. Mostly because even if they do have sex, if you think about it, in SAO it's just their minds not their bodies. I'm not sure if it'd work like that, especially since the person's magic has something to do with the bond, so since it's their minds and not their bodies, I'm not sure if Marzanna's magic could get to Kazuto and bond them. The only way it could reach him, was if it used Aincrad like a mental bridge and accessed Kazuto from there. On second thought… You guys probably think I put stuff like that in reviews to tease or for mild humor, but this one like others, was me typing up my reasoning then realized the idea at least has enough merit to think about. I honestly don't really edit these responses. I type them as though you guys are face to face with me having a conversation. Which is why they sometimes become long, because I ramble... Anyway! As for Elucidator… It's stated in Lizbeth's arc that Elucidator is from a boss on the 50th floor. With the speed that they go through floors, they won't reach floor 50 until February. Roughly February 20th, 2024 by my 9.5 average days per floor calculation, with certain floors like floor 25 given more days than the rest due to their difficulty. So I don't forget, I actually have the dates of the floors put into my calendar, so February 20th is when they'll reach floor 50. Which is sad, because I want Elucidator to appear, preferably now. I love Elucidator.
Kurasabe: Just in time too. Apparently one of them was an idiot, he knocked on my door, and apologized for having to kill me. He was just about to when you're call came. Dodged the bullet there, didn't I? Seriously though, I'm glad you liked the chapter.
minshe: I don't mind you throwing ideas at me at all! In fact, I wouldn't mind if reviewers wanted to tell me idea's they have floor the story even when I know exactly where I'm going with it at the time. As for your ideas themselves, the only one I have an issue with is the second one. I honestly can't see Hanna telling Kirito about her real life until they make it out of the game since she'd have no way of proving any of it. Unless she somehow uses magic, which in not entirely sure of at this point. I'll see about the other ideas though!
July 31th, 2023- 268 days since SAO launch:
Mike scowls at the letter in front of him. Like every year, Hogwarts had sent him a letter detailing what he'd need for the year. He used to love Hogwarts, but the Tournament the year before and Dumbledore's presence has all but ruined it for him. Potter, Dumbledore, The Ministry, and the general opinion on non-humans like his sister and her family were even making him begin to dislike Great Britain in general. To be honest, the only reasons he didn't hate either Hogwarts or Great Britain were Hermione and the Weasley twins.
However, his love of his home country certainly hasn't been helped in the slightest by two Dementors attacking three days prior. Well, they were probably British Dementors, only a handful of countries use them. The majority banned them and transferred any that popped up in their borders to the countries that employed them in their prisons. Mike honestly can't think of any other country they could've come from though, considering no one in the Sparda household has pissed off any of the other countries that employed them recently. When they showed up, he hadn't even had a chance to cast a Patronus before Nero had cut their heads off. It didn't really surprise him that Nero's Red Queen had managed the task wizards thought impossible, namely killing Dementors. It was Pseudo-Demonic Steel after all, there wasn't anything Mike knew of that it couldn't kill.
With a sigh, he shakes himself from his thoughts and opens the letter to see his school list. Scanning over the books he can't help but scoff. He may have only been living with his mother for ten days, but he's been visiting since January. His mother and Vergil had taken it upon themselves to tutor him after they learned about Hogwarts educational standards, which have changed slightly since his mother attended. To be fair, Hogwarts is one of the best magical schools in Europe, they weren't lying about those claims. Vergil and his mother simply had much higher standards when it came to magical education.
So after almost eight months of learning from them, he finds the books assigned to be rather subpar. The Defence books were by far the worst of the offenders. He's never read any of them himself, but he knows that the author is an absolute idiot who is of the opinion that hexes are harmless, and often went over when it was legal to use defensive spells in his books. From Mike's understanding, he is often ridiculed for these ludicrous opinions. The Divination text book is almost as bad. Mike still stands by his decision of not taking Runes or Arithmancy, as he wasn't really cut out for those sorts of things, but he's more than a little peeved at the Divination class. For the entirety of his third and fourth year he'd been of the opinion that it was useless since he wasn't a Seer, but Eva had all but made it her mission to correct this. As it turns out, all of the methods of Divining were created specifically for non Seers, as they had their own methods of focusing their gifts if they wanted to. Trelawney was just so focused on Seers and coming off as mystical that she doesn't teach it right. Eva has as such been rectifying that. He had soon discovered that he still wasn't great at it, but he was decent enough.
He's broken from his thoughts by his mother, "You don't seem very happy sweetheart. Is everything ok?"
He sighs again, then hands her the letter, "Fine, just… My textbooks this year don't seem quite up to par since you guys have been tutoring me. Especially the DADA text. We're definitely getting another horrible teacher if the books are any indication. Honestly, I almost want to just drop out of Hogwarts and attend another school, but it wouldn't really change things. The other schools would almost certainly be similar. Then again, if I did that I wouldn't have to deal with the 'Boy Who Lived and is now crying wolf' bullshit."
His mother hums, "True. Though if you sign up to a school outside of Europe, you'll still be a bit famous for surviving the killing curse, but that's about it. The countries outside of Europe weren't really affected by Voldemort, so they don't really care. Sure they kept an eye on the happenings during the war, but only to make sure it didn't spread out of Europe to their countries." His mother shakes her head, "Anyway, if you want to attend another school, I will, of course, support your decision, but you should decide soon so you can start school on time."
He tilts his head, "Do you think I should?"
His mother releases a sigh of her own, "My personal opinion? Yes. With the two main powers in that country being Dumbledore with his far reaching influences, and Voldemort with the pureblood elitists, I think that country is poisonous. However, it's your choice. I may be your mother, but I'm of the opinion you can take care of yourself. If you want my advice, I will happily give it. If you want me to make the decision for you, I shall. I won't, however, force you to accept either if you don't want it."
Mike thinks about that for a bit, then sighs, "I just wish I could find a school where no one would care that I'm Mike Potter." He spits the last name with complete venom, then scowls, "Although, I'd accept just getting rid of that name and any association with the man who gave it to me."
His mother eyes him for a moment, "Well, you could if you wanted." At his shocked look she smiles lightly, "Dante and I have been talking. It would be your choice of course, but in the past five months Dante has kind of begun to think of you like his son. We talked about it last week, and if you're willing, Dante would like to blood adopt you. You wouldn't have to be a Potter in any form anymore if you don't want to."
He can't help but get slightly teary eyed at that. In the nearly eight months that he had known them, Mike had definitely started thinking of the residents of Devil May Cry as family. They certainly went out of their way to make him feel welcomed, Dante in particular. He'd never admit it, but he occasionally got jealous of Marzanna. Of the fact she got Dante for a dad when he got stuck with Potter. He didn't have to be jealous anymore though. Dante was offering to be his dad, to sever any connections he had with Potter if he wanted. And oh, how he wanted that.
His mother smiles gently at him, and leans over, wiping the tears away, "Oh sweetie. You know this is your family, right? You don't have to be a Sparda by blood or marriage. Take Trish, Lady, and Kat for example. They're not blood relatives or spouses to any Sparda, but they are family. This isn't an offer to make you family, you've been so all along. This is just Dante wanting to make it official, so that no one can ever say you aren't as much his child as Marzanna."
Mike nods, "I-I'd like that. I'd like that a lot. Even if Mike Sparda sounds a bit strange."
His mother laughs, "A bit, but it's how things should be. Well, other than the fact I originally meant to name you Michael but the combination of the pain potions, a rougher than normal birth, and the love potion made me put down what I figured would be your nickname instead. Not the point though, if you'd been born but things had gone as they should've you'd have been born a Sparda." With a sigh she leaned back, "Anyhow, you still need to make a decision regarding Hogwarts. Not right now if you don't want to, but soon."
He huffs, "As much as I don't like the school that much anymore, I do have friends there. Plus, with the claims of Voldemort returning, people will think I'm running away. While I don't really care about their opinions, Voldemort knows at least part of the prophecy. If he thinks I'm running he could become bolder. A lot of innocent people will die if he decides to stop hiding. I'm not arrogantly thinking I'm the reason he's hiding. I'm aware it's mostly because of Dumbledore, but I still feel like he'd come out into the open if the light lost their poster boy. Much as I hate being one of their beacons of hope, it doesn't change the fact that I am. To those who believe me about Voldemort and are trying to oppose him, it would probably be a blow to their moral if I left entirely instead of just for the summer."
His mother sighs tiredly, "So you're going back in September?"
He frowns, "Yeah. I guess I am." Then he looks at his mother with defiance shining in his eyes, "But I'm going back as Mike Sparda, not Mike Potter. I refuse to be the lost little boy Mike Potter was anymore."
His mother nods in approval, "Good. You'll need that conviction for the trials that are sure to come, and as always, we Sparda's will support our family. So never forget what it means to have that name."
Mike smiles lightly, "I won't forget. Ever. That's a promise."
August 22nd, 2023- 290 days since SAO launch:
Mike groans from his spot on the floor. He was sore all over. He'd been blood adopted by Dante only two days after he agreed. Then grandpa had decided that much like Marzanna all those years ago, Mike needed to be trained so that he could at least defend himself, even if he chose not to become a Demon Hunter. Actually, he'd been even more insistent for Mike then he had been for Marzanna, given the rising trouble with Voldemort. Just like Marzanna, Sparda had forged him a soul bound weapon. It took the form of a Carpathian sword, with its primary angelic form being an Armenian dagger, and its demonic form was a Guāndāo(1).
Once he received his weapon, his family had immediately begun his training. Which was what he was doing at the moment. Getting his ass kicked by Vergil in the name of training. Vergil nudges him in the side with his foot, "You alright there?"
He huffs in irritation, "Everything hurts you sadistic jerk. Don't get me wrong, I'm well aware I need this training, and the whole 'no pain, no gain' thing, but this is just ridiculous."
Vergil sighs, "Yes well, we have to start from the very beginning with your training, and we have no time to waste. Yes, I'm setting a rather brutal pace. However, with this Voldemort guy already after you, and the demons who will begin hunting you now, you cannot afford anything less. If anything, I'm actually going easier on you than I should due to you now being a devil, which gives you a definite advantage when it comes to any sort of fighting."
Now it was Mike who sighs, then he climbs to his feet, "I know, I know. Sorry Uncle Vergil, I just-"
Vergil nods in understanding, "I know. It's hard, you hurt all over, and you probably feel like you aren't improving in the slightest. Don't let it get to you though. Yes it's hard, you've never pushed your body like this, and on top of that your body is still adjusting to your Nephilim blood. Yes you're in pain, heavy training will do that to you, Nephilim or not. However you are improving. Just keep giving it your all. You won't beat me for a couple years at least, but if you can hold your own against me for even five minutes you'll do fine for now. That's your current goal. Not to beat me, just hold your own for a bit, ok?"
He rolls his eyes, even though mentally he settles a bit at having a firmer goal than just the vague 'improve' he's been using so far, "You say that like it's easy, but I can barely hold you off for 15 seconds. And that's being generous."
Vergil laughs, "For the time being yes, but give it your all in training, and you'll steadily improve. Now, come on. Give it another try."
Mike huffs again, then quickly begins attacking his uncle once more. He gives it his all as Vergil told him. Doesn't stop him from ending up on his back in twelve seconds flat. It was going to be a long, painful road to lasting five minutes against Vergil.
September 4th, 2023- 303 days since SAO launch:
Mike watches Umbridge cautiously as she stands from her desk. She smiles in what she probably thought is a sweet manner, "Good afternoon!" There are a few murmurs in response and she frowns, "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge'. One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"
This time the entire double class of Gryffindor and Slytherin choruses the response back. Umbridge gives that fake sweet smile again, "Well now. That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out please."
The order is done, but the students aren't happy about it. Lessons that began with those words were rarely interesting. Umbridge pulls out her own wand and taps the blackboard, immediately words appeared on it:
Defense Against the Dark Arts
A Return To Basic Principles
Umbridge turns back to them, "Well now, your instruction in this subject has been disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it? The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in you all being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year. You will be pleased to know, however, that this problem will now be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."
He scowls at his desk. He does not like the sound of this 'Ministry-approved' course at all. Umbridge turns back to the blackboard and taps it with her wand again. Mike looks back up at the sound. The previous words disappeared, replacing it were the words 'Course Aims'. Underneath it three sentences appeared:
1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic
2. Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used
3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use
For a few moments the quiet room is filled with the scratching of quills on parchment. Once everyone is finished copying down Umbridge's course aims she continues, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"
There are scattered mutters of assent, and Umbridge frowns again, "I think we'll try that again. When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, 'Yes Professor Umbridge', or 'No Professor Umbridge'. So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?" The class dutifully choruses back affirmations, and Umbridge smiles in that sickeningly sweet manner, "Good. I should like you all to turn to page five and read 'Chapter One, Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."
Umbridge goes back to the teacher's desk and observes them all closely. Mike opens his book to page five, but he'd given the book a cursory skim through when he bought his books, it really was as bad as everyone said. So he doesn't bother to read the garbage, simply pretends to. After a few minutes he glances to his right, then blinks rapidly in surprise upon seeing Hermione. She hasn't even opened the book, and is instead staring pointedly at Umbridge with her hand in the air.
He could never remember Hermione neglecting to read when instructed to, if anything, it was difficult to keep her from opening any book that came within five feet of her. Mike gives her a questioning look, but she merely glances at him then shakes her head. She quickly resumes staring at Umbridge, who is just as resolutely looking anywhere but Hermione.
After several minutes though, Mike isn't the only one watching Hermione rather than reading. The garbage they'd been assigned was so tedious and dull that an increasing number of students were glancing back and forth between Hermione and Umbridge, clearly wondering how long Umbridge would let the situation continue.
When over half the class is paying attention to Hermione rather than their books, Umbridge seems to decide that she could no longer ignore the situation. She turns to Hermione as though she's only just noticed her, "Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?"
Hermione lowers her hand and shakes her head, "Not about the chapter, no."
Umbridge gives her a smile of slight warning, "Well, we're reading just now. If you have any other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."
Hermione purses her lips, "I've got a question about your course aims."
Umbridge raises her eyebrows, "And your name is?"
"Hermione Granger."
Umbridge's voice is full of determined sweetness, "Well Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read through them carefully."
"Well I don't." Hermione isn't usually so blunt with teachers. It was rather obvious to most of the class that she doesn't like Umbridge, "There's nothing up there about using defensive spells."
There are a few moments of silence as the class turns back to re-read the board. Frowns quickly start appearing on the student's faces as they realize Hermione is correct. Umbridge blinks rapidly, "Using defensive spells?" Umbridge laughs lightly as though she just understood a joke that had eluded her for a moment, "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"
Ron loudly bursts into the near argument, "We're not going to use magic?"
Umbridge stares at him coldly, "Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class Mr-"
Ron scowls, "Weasley." The reply was prompt and followed by him thrusting his hand into the air.
Umbridge simply smiles at him, then turns away. Mike and Hermione share a glance, then put their hands into the air as well. They may not like Ronald, but he had a legitimate question, and was obviously going to be ignored. Umbridge's eyes linger on Mike a moment, then she turns to Hermione, "Yes Miss Granger? You wished to ask something else?"
Hermione doesn't waste a second for her reply, "Yes. Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?"
Umbridge's voice is more falsely sweet than ever, "Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?"
Hermione purses her lips, they can all see where that inquiry was going, but she answers anyway, "No, but-"
Umbridge cuts her off, "Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer of you have devised our new programme of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure risk-free way-"
He knew he shouldn't, he was already unfavorable amongst the Ministry at the moment, and Umbridge was definitely sent by Fudge, but those words irritate him immensely, "What use is that? If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a-"
Umbridge all but smugly sings, "Hand Mr Potter."
He pushes his hand into the air. Just like with Ronald, Umbridge purposely turns away, but now other students have their hands in the air as well. Umbridge points at one person at random, "And your name is?"
"Dean Thomas."
Umbridge raises an eyebrow, "Well Mr Thomas?"
Dean glances around as he lowers his hand, "Well, it's like Mike said, isn't it? If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free."
Umbridge seems to be getting irritated now, "I ask again, do you expect to be attacked during my class?"
"No, but-"
Umbridge talks right over him, "I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school, but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed. Not to mention, very dangerous halfbreeds."
She gives a nasty little laugh while she speaks of Remus, and it takes everything in Mike to stay in his chair. His dislike of her is rapidly turning to hate. It was people like Umbridge who were ruining Great Britain for him. Most of his family, himself included since the blood adoption, were either half or less than half human. Only Aunt Lady and Aunt Kat were more than half human.
Before Mike can lose his temper, Dean loses his own, and angrily snaps back at Umbridge, "If you're talking about Professor Lupin, he was the best teacher we ever-"
Umbridge scowls in near fury, "Hand Mr Thomas!" Umbridge's frown lingers on Dean for a moment, likely for calling a 'halfbreed' better than her in any way. Then she turns back to the rest of the class, "As I was saying, you have been introduced to spells that are complex, inappropriate for your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day-"
Hermione cuts her off with a scowl, "No we haven't! We just-"
Umbridge is really irritated now, "Your hand is not up miss Granger!" Hermione resolutely puts her hand up, but Umbridge pointedly turns away, "It is my understanding that my predecessor not only used illegal curses in front of you, but actually performed them on you."
She gets no further before Dean butts in again, "Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?"
Umbridge is obviously starting to go from irritation to anger, "Hand Mr Thomas!" Umbridge outright glares at him for a moment, "Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical course will be more than sufficient to get you through your examinations, which, after all, is what school is about." Umbridge's eyebrow actually twitches when Parvati's hand shoots up, "Your name?"
"Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses and stuff?"
Umbridge sighs, "As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions."
Parvati, and the rest of the class for that matter, stare at Umbridge in an incredulous manner, then Parvati continues, "Without ever practicing them beforehand? Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells is during our exam?"
Umbridge scowls, "I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough-"
Mike shoves his hand in the air, and without waiting for her to acknowledge him, cuts her off angrily, "And what good will theory be in the real world, huh?"
Umbridge's anger turns on him, "This is a school Mr Potter, not the real world."
He scowls at her, "That's true, however, a school is meant to prepare students for the real world. This is Defence Against the Dark Arts, it isn't about the likelihood of finding ourselves in dangerous situations, it's about being able to defend ourselves if we do."
Umbridge leans forward, her eyes gleaming in triumph, "And what, precisely, do you expect to find waiting for you out there Mr Potter?"
He barely contains the urge to roll his eyes at her. It is so obviously a trap it's laughable, she was clearly trying to get him to say something about Voldemort. He figures she must really be stupid to think she has him trapped with that question. He adopts a look of mock thought, "Oh, I don't know Professor. How many dangerous dark creatures are there in Europe in general? Hundreds of species, right? Sure the Ministry controls most of them, but even the Ministry openly admits that it can never guarantee it has them all under control. And what about dark wizards? Oh, certainly they should be left to the Aurors. I'm not saying anyone here should go after them, unless of course, they pursue a career in the Ministry's Law Enforcement department. It'll be their job then. However, should we ever accidentally cross paths with a dark wizard who chooses to attack us, isn't it for the best that we can defend ourselves until Aurors arrive? Aren't those reasons what this class is for?"
Umbridge leans back with a scowl of pure fury that he hadn't mentioned Voldemort at all. She huffs, "As with Miss Granger, you are not a Ministry-trained education expert, Mr Potter. You do not have the credentials to decide what this class is for. And detention for the week starting tonight for talking back to a teacher."
He wants to scowl, but won't give her the satisfaction, so he pretends to take the punishment in good grace, his only response to correct the other major thing she'd gotten wrong throughout the discussion, "Very well, Professor. However, I know Professor McGonagall sent out a notice, as she asked me to come to her office last night, believing it to be a mistake. I was blood adopted this summer, I no longer hold any connection to the Potter family. It's Mike Sparda now, and I'll ask you to use my actual name please."
Umbridge freezes and pales. Apparently his family's reputation has spread through the wizarding world and reached the British Ministry of Magic. Even if they mostly left demons here to the Hunters that live here. The only time they take jobs here was when there was one that the resident Demon Hunters couldn't handle.
Umbridge scowls at him, "Another week for such lies, Mr Potter."
Mike smiles innocently, "If you would like to see a copy of the official Ministry adoption papers, I actually had the foresight to bring them with me. I figured some teachers might have as hard a time believing it as Professor McGonagall."
Umbridge marches to his desk in the back of the classroom, and glares fiercely at him, "Let me see those!"
He hands the copy over to her. Then watches in satisfaction as she reads them over, rapidly turning white as a ghost as she does. Thankfully, his family have gone to great lengths to ensure the British Ministry, or any others with unfavorable views of halfbreeds for that matter, arn't aware of their non-human heritage. Those ministries simply thought they were exceptionally good at their job, and the ones that did know it had been made clear to, that while they care too much about the people to refuse jobs from their countries, they would skyrocket the prices if they have any leak to the governments not in the know. And the increased prices would be for both the government itself and private contracts, the customers of which would be gleefully informed that the services had gotten so expensive due to their own government. Needless to say, it was a secret that most countries kept locked down tighter then they did their own secret information.
After a few minutes of staring at the paper in fear, Umbridge hands the papers back in a shaky manner, her posture so stiff she almost looks like she was under a body bind, "Very well Mr Po-, Mr Sparda. I have not actually had a chance to go through the notices I've received since yesterday. My…. apologies for the mistake."
Mike nods sharply, inwardly grinning at how much she seems to hate apologizing to him. He also notices that she hadn't taken back the detentions she gave him when she accused him of lying. He wasn't about to bring it up at the moment though. She'd probably just give him more.
That night Mike goes to his detention. He finds Umbridge waiting for him when he arrives. She gestures to a chair, "Have a seat Mr Potter."
He pauses, "We went over this in your class Professor. It's Mike Sparda, not Potter."
Umbridge wavers for a moment, then shakes her head firmly, "Yes, yes." She gets up and sets a quill in front of him, "Tell me Mr Sparda, do you still stand by your claims that You-Know-Who has returned?"
He raises an eyebrow, "I don't see what that has to do with detention or school, Professor."
Umbridge frowns, "Another week of detention. When I ask you a question, you answer. Now, do you still stand by the claim you made at the end of the Triwizard Tournament?"
It was obvious that Umbridge won't accept any answer but yes. He refuses to outright lie about it anyway. Shifting the focus of his argument in class was one thing, but outright lying was another thing entirely. Mike stares Umbridge down, "Yes. I still stand by the warning I gave at the end of the tournament."
Umbridge smiles in a nasty manner, "I figured as much. Well then, I want you to pick up that quill and write 'I shall not tell lies'. Keep writing it until I tell you otherwise, understand?"
He raises an eyebrow as he picks up the quill. Was the Minister really attempting to intimidate him into submission by making him write lines? He really doesn't see the point to this, but tries to start anyway. A second later he realizes Umbridge has already made a mistake so he turns to her, "Professor, I don't have any ink."
Umbridge's nasty smile gets a vicious edge to it, "Oh don't worry dear. You don't need any, just start writing."
He huffs. A self inking quill then. She could've just said so. He tries to write the first line. Nothing happens except his hand itching slightly. He looks back up to see her frowning in confusion at him, "Professor, I thought this was a self inking quill? Nothing's appearing."
Umbridge looks alarmed and gets back up from her desk, "Don't be preposterous. That isn't any ordinary quill, it wouldn't just-" She cuts off and stares at the blank paper then her eyes flickered somewhere before narrowing, "Try again Mr Potter."
Mike scowls, "It's Sparda." At her glare he turns away and tries again. Once again nothing happens, but the itch on the back of his hand becomes slightly more insistent. He turns back to Umbridge with a raised eyebrow.
She purses her lips, "Keep trying, and don't stop trying unless I tell you to."
He can't suppress the urge to roll his eyes this time, but dutifully complies. After the tenth time of trying Umbridge leans forward, intensely studying his hand. She reaches out and experimentally touched his hand, exactly where the itch was slowly getting worse. He immediately narrows his eyes. The quill has something to do with the itch, but he doesn't know what it was.
For half an hour he tries to write lines with no results except the itch getting worse. Finally Umbridge huffs angrily, then glared at him, "Well, Mr Potter, it seems there is something wrong with my quill. As you were unable to serve your detention, we will reschedule today for another day. Your detentions are temporarily postponed until I can get my quill to work again. You are dismissed for now."
Mike stands up and leaves the room, but pauses outside the classroom. A few moments later he hears Umbridge yelp and his keen nose picks up the faint smell of blood. His eyes narrow. He heavily suspects Umbridge tried the quill herself after he left, which was just as he'd been anticipating and why he'd waited. There's only one type of quill he knows of that uses blood, but it was illegal to use it for anything barring important documents and contracts, and there are no clauses for usage of one on minors. He quickly checks his watch. He still has an hour before curfew, more than enough time if he hurries.
With that he sets off down the hall. Using every secret passage he knows, he makes it to the dungeons in no time. Knocking on the door, he only has to wait a moment before Severus answers. He raises an eyebrow before quickly letting him in without a word. Once the door is closed Severus casts privacy spells as he moves over to his desk and sits down, "It is a bit late for a visit Mike, is something wrong?"
He sits down in the chair opposite Severus, "I just got out of detention with Umbridge. It was rather suspicious, so I thought I'd ask your opinion on the matter."
Severus raises an eyebrow as he leans back into his chair, "And what, pray tell, was suspicious about a detention?"
Mike leans forward, "The first thing she did was ask if I still stood by my warning of Voldemort's return. It was rather obvious she'd accept no other answer but yes, and that's one thing I won't lie about anyway, so I told her the truth." Severus nods, it was an understandable course of action, Mike continues, "Then she threw me for a loop when she just gave me a quill and told me to write lines. She didn't give me any ink though, and when I tried to ask for some she said I didn't need any."
Severus tilts his head, "A self inking quill then. Where does this become suspicious."
Mike frowns, "It became suspicious when I tried to use the quill. Nothing happened. Umbridge was very surprised. She said it was a special quill, then demanded I try again. For a while she just kept having me try to write my lines. The thing is she seemed very interested in my hand. It had started itching when I tried to use the quill, and it got worse the longer I tried. At first I just thought it was a persistent itch, but then Umbridge touched my hand in the exact spot my hand was itching. She seemed to be examining it."
Now Severus leans forward quickly, "Your hand itched when you tried to use the quill?" He nods and Severus frowns, "That does not bode well. As a Nephilim, you have a high magical resistance. The quill was likely intended to do far more than just make your hand itch."
He nods, "I know that. Umbridge released me early since she thought the quill wasn't working. I waited outside the door for a few moments. I'm pretty sure Umbridge tested the quill, because I heard her yelp. The thing that gets me though, and the biggest reason I came here tonight rather than tomorrow was the fact I faintly smelled blood after she cried out. I can't be sure since it didn't work on me, but it seems like…"
He trails off, unsure if he should finish that sentence. Severus sharply inhales, "A blood quill. It certainly sounds like it. Hold out your hand, the one that itched. I know a detection spell that can pick up the magical signature of those quills amongst other things."
He nods, and extends his hand palm down to Severus. The older man wastes no time in whipping out his wand and casting a rather complex spell. A moment later he curses, "It was definitely a blood quill."
He pulls his hand back and absently rubbing at the spot that was still itching. After a moment he tilts his head at Severus, "What do I do? With how against me the Ministry is right now, I'm not sure any charges would stick. Umbridge said that my detentions would resume once she had the quill working. I may be able to play it not working on me once off as some sort of problem with the quill, but if Umbridge realizes it works on everyone except me, she'll figure out my non-human status quickly. I may not be overly familiar with Umbridge, but I do know that she's one of the biggest anti creature advocates on the Wizengamot."
Severus frowns heavily, then seems to think for a few minutes, before slowly speaking, "I know of a spell that can lessen or negate the magical resistance some creatures have. It's usually used when trying to bring down animals like dragons, but we could adjust its strength to only decrease your magical resistance enough for the quill to work. It only lasts for a few hours, but I could teach you the spell so that you can apply it before your detentions with Umbridge. It would only be a temporary solution, but it would buy us the time to figure out a more permanent way to deal with Umbridge."
He nods slowly, "I don't really like the idea of willingly letting her hurt me, but it's better than letting that woman find out what I am. However…" Mike hesitates, before pushing on, "I think we have another problem." Severus raises an eyebrow in askance, so Mike explains, "My hand still itches. I think the magic in the quill is still active."
Severus stands sharply, then walks around the desk quickly. He holds his hand out and Mike dutifully gives him his own hand. Severus immediately begins casting spells, when he's done he curses, then takes a deep breath, "You're quite right Mike. I apologize for not picking it up sooner, but the spell I used previously only detects the presence of the magic, not its quantity or if it's still active. From what I can tell the magic will linger for a few days. Seeing as Umbridge will likely resume your detentions tomorrow, I'd like to take care of this now. If you cast the spell I was talking about on your hand tomorrow before detention, the magic that's still clinging to your hand will no longer have anything stopping it. It would be better to cast the spell now while I'm here to heal you should your Nephilim healing not keep up, rather than just before you go to Umbridge. Are you alright with this?"
Mike nods hesitantly, "Just get it over with."
Severus nods in return, "I'd give you a blood replenisher, but as a Nephilim, I doubt you'll bleed out from something like this. Ready?"
He nods again, and Severus casts the spell. Immediately Mike's hand hurt as all the magic from the lines hit his hand at once and cut him deeply. His hand begins bleeding heavily. Severus doesn't need to do anything though. His Nephilim healing easily takes care of it. Severus gets rid of the blood with a quick spell revealing Mike's hand is already fully healed. Mike rubs his hand gently, it was slightly tender, but even that was quickly fading.
He nods at Severus, "It's fine now, thank you. Do we have time for you to teach me that spell tonight, or do I need to come back tomorrow?"
Severus glances at the clock in thought, "I think we have enough time for you to learn the spell tonight, but you'll need to come back tomorrow to learn how to adjust it."
Mike nods and they quickly get started on the spell.
Dolores Umbridge sat at her desk staring at the quill and the piece of parchment she gave Potter. She was confused. It was a blood quill, they didn't usually just stop working. Yet it hadn't worked on the Potter brat. How was she supposed to discipline Potter for his horrible lies if her lovely quill wasn't working? Her eyes drift to the bottom of the page where she'd signed her name to test the quill. It had worked just fine for her.
She runs her fingers over the quill lovingly as she ponders the issue. After twenty minutes her eyes narrow in suspicion. She could think of a few types of people blood quills didn't work on, and every last one of them were filthy disgusting halfbreeds. Surely that couldn't be the case though? Potter had been blood adopted by the famous Sparda family, it would've had to have been them he got it from. It wouldn't surprise her if that family was full of foul halfbreeds, given their home country, America, was disgustingly lax about non humans. She'd even heard that they were talking about making clinics specifically tailored for non humans to acquire things they needed. Blood for vampires, Wolfsbane potion for werewolves, even medical care for the bastards if they got sick! Honestly, wasting government funds on such disgusting creatures, it was preposterous.
No, it wouldn't surprise Umbridge if the Sparda family weren't human. The problem was, if they weren't, how was it the Ministry didn't know? They'd hired them a couple times to take care of some particularly nasty demons. How could they possibly not know they were hiring non humans? And if they weren't human, why on earth would Mike Potter let them blood adopt him? Sure, the Potter family wasn't as popular as usual considering the head of the family stood firmly in Dumbledore's corner, but they were still a nice, mostly respectable, pureblood family. Umbridge didn't hold Mike's halfblood status against him, she herself was a halfblood after all though she'd taken pains to bury that knowledge. What she could not accept however, was the idea someone would throw away such noble blood to become a repulsive halfbreed.
She is shaken out of her thoughts by blood rapidly soaking through the top of the page where Potter, Sparda, had been trying to write his lines. Her eyes narrow. So the quill had worked after all. Pity she didn't get to see the face he made when he realized what it did. It takes quite a bit of weight away from the idea the Sparda's weren't human, but didn't erase Dolores' doubts entirely. The quill had worked just as it was supposed to for her, the writing appeared immediately.
She vanishes the parchment and blood as she thought for a few more minutes then nods her head decisively. Sparda would come in for his detention tomorrow night. She'd check the quill just before he arrived. If it continued to not work on him, she'd know he was a filthy halfbreed. If it started to work, she'd accept that there was something wrong with the quill tonight. She wouldn't, however, completely disregard the idea that the Sparda's weren't human. They'd always been almost unnaturally good at killing demons, and it would explain quite a bit about the highly eccentric family. She should probably tell Fudge about her suspicions, get him to have someone investigate the Sparda's, but it could wait until tomorrow. She'd probably have more proof then anyway.
Dumbledore sighs heavily. Mike had begun slipping from his grip the year before, then disappeared over the summer. He refused to listen to him when he requested that Mike go to Order quarters, and after the first letter, outright ignored him. Dumbledore doesn't know what was going on, but he didn't like it, not one bit.
Which was why he let Dolores Umbridge's blood quill through when the wards detected it. He knows she has it out for him and Mike, and knows precisely who she'd focus the blood quill's use on. He'd let Umbridge soften Mike up a bit, then it'll be easier to get him back under his control.
October 13th, 2023- 342 days since SAO launch:
Hanna and Kirito are in their room, checking their equipment after a night of grinding in the labyrinth on the 35th floor. She was looking over her claw, which has reached level 57, when Kirito makes a confused incredulous sound. She looks over at him, "Something wrong Kirito?"
He glances at her, "No, just- I was looking over my skills to see if my «Battle Healing» was close to leveling up, and, well… See for yourself."
With that he pushes the button that makes his menu viewable to other players, then pushes it over to her. She immediately sees what has caught his attention. A new skill she'd never heard of. Dual Wield. It was pretty self explanatory. The skill was level 1, and doesn't have any experience points, which was understandable if it has only just appeared.
She tilts her head, "I've never heard of this skill. Have you?"
Kirito shakes his head, "No." He purses his lips, "It can't be an Extra Skill given by a quest, because we always do our quests together, and you'd have it as well if that was the case. You don't have it, do you?" Kirito almost looks hopeful that she has it, but a quick check shows she doesn't. She shakes her head and Kirito grimaces, "Well, in that case it might be a Hidden Skill like the Katana Skill. However, I don't know the requirements to unlock it, nor have I heard of it. If it were a Hidden Skill we probably would've heard of it before. Not to mention, we do almost everything together. So if it was a Hidden Skill, you'd probably have it as well."
Kirito's grimace increases. She knows why he was so unhappy. If it wasn't an Extra Skill or a Hidden Skill there was only one option left, "Then... It's a Unique Skill? Like Heathcliff's «Holy Sword»?" Kirito nods with a scowl and she sighs, "Well, are you going to use it?"
Kirito jerks and looks at her incredulously, "Use it? Are you crazy? Do you know how people would react to me having a Unique Skill? The only reason no one really says anything about Heathcliff's Unique Skill is because he's got a good reputation. I'm a Beater though, it wouldn't go over well at all." Kirito shakes his head, "No, I won't use it, it's more trouble than it's worth."
She kicks him lightly, "Don't be stupid. Just because people would get jealous is no reason not to use it. If you try it and aren't really comfortable with using two swords, alright then you can just delete it. Don't waste such an opportunity just because of other people's opinions though."At Kirito's scowl, she sighs, "Alright, fine, if you're so worried about it, just use it when it's just the two of us. I don't think it's worth going through the trouble of hiding it though."
Kirito looks away, "People would hate us even more if a Beater gained a Unique Skill."
She shrugs, "So? They already hate us. Who cares if they hate us a bit more. It's not like it's a huge issue for us. We've got Argo, Agil, and our Tailor. The only thing we don't have is a Weapon Smith, but that's because we haven't needed one yet. NPC smiths are more than capable of repairing weapons, and so far all the weapons we've used were either drops or quest items. Having difficulty finding a Player Smith willing to serve us is pretty much the only problem that might come from that. If it happens we can deal with it when we get there."
Kirito looks thoughtful, "I guess, but… Look, how about a compromise?" She nods, so he continues, "Let me hide it until we find a Smith. Then I'll stop, ok?"
She sighs, "Except we have no reason to look for a Smith right now." Kirito gives her a sheepish grin, telling her that that was the point. She gives him a look of fond amusement, then leaned over to give him a quick kiss. She grins at his by now normal love struck expression as she pulls back, "Alright, we'll do it your way, Mr Worrywart. After we find a Smith, no later, understand?"
His expression clears up to mere fondness as he rolls his eyes at the by now familiar nickname, "Yes ma'am. Whatever you say ma'am."
She punches him in the shoulder. He snickers, then pulls her over for another kiss as his expression shifts back. Their equipment and the Unique Skill are both quickly forgotten.
October 17th, 2023, 346 days since SAO launch:
Sparda was furiously making his way through the Ministry of Magic in America(2). Mike was being forced to let some bitch hurt him on a regular basis, but he hadn't really been able to do anything about it, considering the British Ministries opinion of non humans. His family was furious, they already couldn't do anything about Marzanna's situation, being unable to help Mike was adding salt to those wounds. Now though, the British MoM was investigating their heritage, specifically their blood purity. They all knew damn well what the British Ministry would try to do if they found out his family wasn't human.
Which is why he was in the American Ministry today. Dante hadn't had much contact with the magical world before Marzanna, Eva, Vergil, and he moved in, but the American Ministry had quickly realized what they were when they became active in their world. The Ministry knows damn well that they could either make powerful allies or devastating enemies, so they hadn't wasted any time contacting them and ensuring it was the former.
However, they hadn't been sure if it would be enough to force the issue with the Minister. So Sparda had an ultimatum for the Minister. It was unlikely she'd refuse to help them, considering the choice she'd be given if it came to that. However, he'd only use it if she was reluctant to help them. He's on relatively friendly terms with the Minister, and he doesn't want to strain his family's relationship with the Ministry unless he has to. If she forces his hand though, he'd give her the ultimatum without hesitation. His family comes before all else after all.
Sparda frowns as he walks into the secretary's office. There was a new person. He dislikes new people, they always question him. The secretary hurries over to him as he makes for the door to the Minister's office, "Sir, you can't just go in there. You need an appointment to see Minister Mitchell."
Sparda raises an eyebrow, "Tell Medeia that Sparda is here to speak with her."
The secretary's eyes widened in recognition of the name, "I-I'll do that sir. J-Just a moment please."
The secretary hurries into the Minister's office, and Sparta hears a quick conversation. As usual when there was a new person, Medeia was furious they stopped him from just walking in. The secretary comes rushing out beat red in embarrassment, "G-Go right in Mr Sparda. I apologize for keeping you."
Sparda snorts as he walks by, "It's fine as long as you don't let it happen again."
The secretary nods rapidly until Sparda closes the door. Medeia gestures to the chair opposite her desk, "Good morning Sparda. Please, make yourself comfortable."
Sparda ignores the chair as usual, "Medeia, you know damn well I'm not here for pleasantries. I'll just cut to the chase. My son, Dante, just blood adopted a wizard you might know, he formerly went by the name Mike Potter."
Medeia leans forward, "Unsurprising. I'm well aware his mother is Dante's soulmate. I'm assuming you're here for more than just getting him dual citizenship?"
Sparda nods even as he absently puts some papers on her desk, "Yes, though I did figure I'd drop them off while I was here. Though I don't even know which department they'd go to, so I'll just leave them with you. I'm sure your secretary is at least competent enough to make sure they get to the right people. Anyway, the problem is my grandson. Minister Fudge is paranoid about Dumbledore, he thinks he's trying to create an army at his school. He made an educational law so as to force one of his employees into the school as a teacher. She's now forcing my grandson to write lines with a blood quill. On top of that, she apparently grew suspicious of Mike and my family at some point, because I've become aware that the British Ministry is looking into my family. Specifically our blood purity. We both know what that means."
Medeia frowns heavily, "A blood quill? Those are illegal, both here and there. Can't he just go to the Aurors?"
Sparda shakes his head with a scowl, "No." At her confused look he sighs then finally sits in the previously offered chair, "Have you heard of Voldemort's return, and the way the British Ministry is denying it?"
Medeia looks troubled, "I'd heard Dumbledore was making outlandish claims of Voldemort being back, I wasn't aware they were true."
Sparda snorts, "My grandson was there when he returned. I know you heard about the Triwizard Tournament last school year. One of Voldemort's followers entered his name, which forced him to compete. At the end of the last task Mike was kidnapped by Voldemort, who stole his blood to create a proper body for himself as he'd been in a temporary one up until then. I believed my grandson anyway, but he also showed us the memory of that night in a pensieve. I may not have seen it in person, but I have seen Voldemort's resurrection with my own eyes. I've also seen a memory of what Voldemort looked like without a body during one of the other times he attacked my grandson. I don't know what kind of magic it is specifically, but he looked like a wraith."
Medeia taps her wand on her desk in thought, something Sparda knows to be a nervous habit, "That…. is highly troubling. I'm not overly familiar with those types of magic, but if Voldemort's soul can survive the killing curse and stay anchored to this plane in such a way that he's capable of returning…. Why didn't you inform me of this before?"
Sparda raises an eyebrow, "I was under the impression that the majority of the countries stayed firmly out of the conflict, America included. I didn't think you'd be overly interested in the details of a civil war across the ocean."
Medeia shakes her head, "Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't. However, what you just described to me, the wraith form in particular, means the bastard did something to make himself immortal. Or more accurately, bind his soul to this plane of existence so that he could just keep coming back anytime something happens to his body. A foreign terrorist wizard isn't my problem. A foreign terrorist that is immortal and whose government refuses to acknowledge on the other hand, is pretty much everyone's problem. I'll need to have the Aurors upped to wartime protocols and training. Better safe than sorry after all."
Sparda huffs in irritation, "Well good luck convincing the British Minister of his stupidity. He's determined to keep his head in the sand. Which brings us back to our original topic. He's so determined to ignore what's in front of him that he refuses to believe anything that Mike says. He's also got a minor smear campaign going to completely discredit Mike, so even if we went to the Aurors, we're pretty sure the charges wouldn't stick. Thankfully, Fudge and the press are mostly focusing on Dumbledore since Mike has never publicly said anything about Voldemort, but he's still on their radar since he's the one who brought the news back to Dumbledore to begin with."
Medeia frowns in thought for a few minutes, then slowly a smile stretches her face, "I think I may have a solution to your problem."
Sparda raises an eyebrow, "I'm listening."
Medeia leans forward and clasps her hands in front of her face, "When the magical community hid from the regular people and began making governments of their own, purebloods made up the majority of the wizard population. Some of them wanted to only allow purebloods in, and that obviously didn't take hold, but it brought to light an issue no one had really bothered to think about before. Namely, what it meant to be a pureblood. There were people who said they were pureblood when they had a muggleborn parent or grandparent. Technically, they were pureblood by the definition that a pureblood was someone who had a magical heritage on both sides, but it dissatisfied those who had a much longer history as a pureblood family."
Sparda nods, "That makes sense. I'm assuming you're telling me all of this for a reason. I'd appreciate it if you hurried to that point."
Medeia nods, "I'm getting there. So, when they tried to make a more clear definition of what it meant to be pureblood, they hit on a snag. See, wizards and witches age differently than Muggles because of their magic. They have longer lives, and can have children later in life. Which meant that some families that really should've been purebloods, didn't actually meet the standards that they came up with. So rather than defining it by generations, they chose to define it by years. On top of that, magicals back then didn't care as much about whether someone was human or not. So it's never actually stated anywhere that one has to be a human pureblood. You and Eva are thousands of years old, and even if your magic is different than a humans, you still have magic. In other words, you easily qualify as pureblood. A potion and a drop of your blood would prove the claim."
Sparda tilts his head in thought. He was silent for a few minutes as he mulls it over, then he speaks slowly, "Alright, I can see the advantages of officially being a pureblood family. It would certainly put a stop to the inquiry of our heritage, but I don't see how that would help my grandson."
Medeia smiles, "Ah, but simply defining who could be considered pureblood and who couldn't wasn't enough. The magicals wanted a way to tell whether someone could barely be considered a pureblood or who had a much longer history. So the Ancient and Noble system was created. I won't go into the intricacies of it, but the tier list is Noble, Ancient, Ancient and Noble, Royal, and Ancient and Royal. By the definitions officially given, your family would be Ancient and Royal(3). There are only three other families with that title in the entire world. So trust me when I say that if it is… Discovered that Mike is, say, the Heir of such a prestigious family, he would rather quickly find himself left alone by not only this British Ministry employee that keeps bothering him, but also by the press. They wouldn't dare slander the Heir of an Ancient and Royal family."
Sparda grins, "Well then, what are we waiting for? The sooner this gets done, the better."
Medeia calls for her secretary, then sends him to go get everything required to register the Sparda's as a pureblood family. Once he's gone she turns back to Sparda, "To make this work you'll have to legally change your name in the magical world. Sparda Sparda isn't exactly reasonable after all, and your family is already known by that name. Along with an official first name for your record, you'll also need a story as to why your family hasn't come forward before."
Sparda nods, "I already knew I'd need an official name for my records. I think I'll take the name Alessio. Fitting I think, considering my history. It means 'Defender of mankind'. As for a story, well that's easy. My family has been nomads for generations. We were also more interested in fighting the demons than with claiming nobility. The only reason we're bothering now is because of the slander on one of our members."
Medeia considers this for a few moments, then nods, "That'll work. With your family's current reputation, it's more than believable."
The two pause their conversation as the secretary comes back. When he leaves again, Sparda looks over the items that had been brought. It wasn't much. A potion, a piece of parchment covered in runes, and an ornate dagger with more runes. There was also a blank ring. Sparda picked up the ring in curiosity, "What's this for?"
Medeia gestures to the paper, "It's bound to this paper. When you cover the paper in the potion and a drop of your blood, the ring will gain symbols to show your family's status as Ancient and Royal. After that, push magic into it. It will only absorb your familial magic rather than your personal magic, so as to bind itself to your family rather than just you. If you think of a specific design while you put the magic in, that is the form the ring will take. If not it'll take a form that suits your family's magic. It can't be changed later, so I'd think long and hard about whether you want a specific design, and if you do, what design you want. The heir ring will come out of it once you bind it to your family, and will be a less intricate version of your ring no matter what form it takes."
Sparda nods, then tilts his head at Medeia, "I'm going to assume that blending my magic with my soulmate upon bonding to her will be sufficient enough for the ring to register the angelic magic the rest of my family has?"
Medeia nods, "You might also like to know that later after binding it to your family, if you think of it as you push more magic into the ring, you can also create ward rings for Trish, Kat, and Lady. Those rings will show that they are officially under the protection of your family."
Sparda hums, "I see. Well, let's get started."
October 20th, 2023- 349 days since SAO launch:
Fudge shakily bids farewell to Medeia Mitchell, the American Minister. She had floo called him to speak to him about the Sparda family and their newest member, Mike Sparda formerly Potter.
She'd known of the investigation into the Sparda family, and warned him against such foolishness. As it turns out, the Sparda family was Ancient and Royal. Apparently, they'd been more interested in hunting demons than nobility, but the investigation, the slander against Mike, and Mike writing home about his detentions with Umbridge had coerced them into action.
They were not happy with the Ministry or Umbridge. He needs to stop the investigation and the Daily Prophet's slander. He also needs to tell Dolores to leave Mike Sparda alone. It was a horrible idea to anger an Ancient and Royal house, even if they'd only just claimed their status.
Marzanna enters her mind for her monthly meeting with Kikuoka. Mike isn't there, and she can't sense him, so he was definitely still at Hogwarts. Before his blood adoption, which she'd been ecstatic about, she couldn't sense him until he was already on his way to the hospital. After the blood adoption though, they were truly twins and their bond had been strengthened considerably.
Since she can't sense him she knew it'd be a while until he shows up, as he'd need to drive to the hospital after flooing home. So she wanders around her mind in boredom while she waits. She idly takes in all the changes that have occurred since she got stuck in Aincrad. After about five minutes of wandering around she freezes. She'd rounded a bookshelf to find a ghostly area with a massive bed.
She knows what this area was, it was the connection to her soulmate that she'd been born with. She'd first found it when Uncle Severus started teaching her Occlumency. It used to just be a white area with an indistinguishable mist-like substance. Now the mist had coalesced quite a bit. It was still kinda see-through, and almost everything was colorless. The only exception was an incredibly familiar coat on a tarnished pedestal. It was pitch black and simultaneously gave off the feelings of being a prison yet also freedom. It was cloth yet seems impenetrable.
She walks up to it and hesitantly runs her hand over it. Then she slowly looks around the area. This was the representation of her bond to her soulmate. It was Kirito through and through. Kirito was her soulmate. Kirito was her soulmate. Tears appear in the corners of her eyes. She'd grown up seeing what it was like to have a soulmate, and had yearned to find hers since shortly after she moved in with her dad. She never thought she actually would though. But Kirito was her soulmate and she'd found him.
Her gaze turns back to the coat and its pedestal. Her heart breaks a bit as she looks at it. She knows Kirito well enough to understand its meaning. The coat was his freedom, yes, but it was also his prison that proclaimed him a Beater. It was simply humble cloth, but was forcibly made impenetrable. A Beater wasn't, couldn't be weak, after all. The tarnished pedestal was Kirito's reputation, and even worse, Kirito's opinion of himself. It was tarnished from being nothing but a filthy Beater and Kirito's strange idea that he's nothing but a selfish bastard. She feels a bit of hope when she notices parts of the pedestal that seemed recently polished to remove some of the tarnish on it. Apparently her attempts to convince Kirito that he isn't at all a bad person were working, albeit slowly.
She rubs at the cloth idly as she looks around again. There were computers that at first glance seemed to be scattered in a semi orderly fashion, but closer inspection showed that some of them weren't full computers. Those ones had parts scattered around them. She grins at the sight. Apparently, Kirito was a geek and a nerd(4). She giggles at the massive bed that takes up the majority of the space. Kirito was such a sleepy head through and through.
She smiles lovingly at the area that was so utterly Kirito it was ridiculous. Then she senses her brother, so with one last sad glance at the coat and pedestal, turns and walks away. This place was private. She probably wouldn't mind too much if her family saw it, but she would not allow Kikuoka to see this place. It isn't his business in the slightest.
(1): The Carpathian sword, or Carpathian Vampire Sword was designed by Jason Woodard and brought to life by Darksword Armory it is the first fully functional fantasy sword of its genre. However, I rather like it's design, so I'm just going to pretend it's a genuine historical weapon. I would just name an actual historical weapon that's similar in its place, but I'm not quite sure what weapon would be the best. Hence the Carpathian sword.
There were multiple designs of Armenian daggers. Sadly I couldn't find any specific names for the designs.
A Guāndāo is a type of Chinese glaive. It was rather heavy, weighing anything from 40 to 150 pounds. Historically, it wasn't actually used as a field weapon, but rather to test the strength of those wanting to join the military.
Links to images of all three of the weapons will be on my profile.
(2): Yes, I'm well aware America doesn't have a Ministry. As I've said before, I myself am actually American. There's no reason the magical America can't be a Ministry though.
(3): Some of you may be thinking I'm giving the Sparda family to much power, but this wouldn't really mean much for them. The biggest interaction they have with the wizarding world is Marzanna and Mike's schooling, and when they're hired to hunt demons.
(4): Admit it. It's so true. He built a computer out of parts when he was in elementary, ergo nerd. But he's also such a geek when it comes to video games. I'm not making fun of either nerds or geeks. I'm just saying.