Severus Snape is a busy man. This was true before he'd ever gotten himself entangled with the anomaly that is Osamu Dazai, and this has only since worsened.

After Poppy's passing, things had only grown more chaotic. Before, he'd had a close ally; someone who was just as interested in helping Mr. Dazai as he is. She pushed when Severus had hesitated, and had been proactive in trying to put a halt to whatever was going on at home.

He hadn't. At every turn, Severus had failed the boy. He'd been too worried about pushing the matter, of causing the boy more upset, that he'd made his physical wellbeing secondary.

And isn't that a strange thought? He, Severus Snape, being so worried about the feelings of a student? Only a few years ago, he'd have laughed at such a notion, promptly followed by some rather choice words.

But here he is, trying to jump through all the necessary hoops to adopt the boy. Hell, he'd even cleared out his guest room! While it was certainly very barebones at the moment, that will be changed at a later date. What matters is there's a bed, pillow and sheets, and no Mori Ougai in sight. No kennels either.

… Severus should move that old trunk from his attic into the room as well, to serve as storage space for the boy's stuff…

Unfortunately, life can never be so simple as to give him a break, now can it? Some time to breathe? To grieve Poppy in peace?

No. A preposterous thought.

Due to what had happened at Hogwarts, the fate of Albus Dumbledore was discovered far sooner than it ordinarily would have. Much like Severus himself, Albus lived far away from most civilization, tucked away in the woods. When someone slayed him in his own doorway and set the home ablaze, journalists had only been an hour or so off from appearing on his doorstep.

At first, Severus thought it was he-who-should-not–be-named who killed the man. Someone like Dumbledore is powerful– beyond that of any average witch or wizard. The idea of someone getting the upper hand against Albus was laughable, so if someone had killed him… then surely it must have been the Dark Lord himself.

But then Minerva showed up at his door one day, as he was in the middle of moving old stuff into the attic, and told him the bad news.

Not once has he seen it mentioned in the paper– not the Daily Prophet, nor the Quibbler– that Albus Dumbledore had not been killed with magic, but by muggle-means. Shot in the head, and house burnt down by a discarded cigarette.

Any pre-tenses of the Dark Lord's involvement was washed away at that very moment, and instead replaced by the fact that one of the most powerful wizards of this century was killed by a muggle.

Both he and Minerva can put two-and-two together.

Before this, Severus had been able to reassure himself with the fact that this was just a muggle organisation. What can muggles do to the wizarding world? Nothing, of course. But this muggle organisation has an in with the magical world via Dazai, and the boy seems loyal to them, as much as he may complain about Mori. According to Blaise, Dazai's closest friend, he's dedicated to his guardian.

Even with Severus and Minerva attempting to retrieve the boy from the Port Mafia, to rescue him, who's to say he'll view it as such? He's twelve– thirteen?– so he likely won't view what Severus intends to do favourably.

Maybe when he's older. But not for a long, long time.

When students go to Hogwarts, the parents temporarily sign over their rights to the school. Severus had explained this to Dazai before– but now, he intends to take advantage of this fact. Wizarding Prosecution Services will need to be involved, and they'll likely need to run interviews with Dazai, as well as he and Minerva. They'll have to find justification for removing the boy from the Mori household– whether that be a recent injury, or testimonial from the boy (ideally combined with physical evidence.) With the types of scarring the boy seems to wear, that right there could very well justify further scrutiny into his life. Abuse or not, with the severe self-harming behaviour he's engaging in, Ougai Mori is obviously not adequately capable of tending to his needs.

Only a week and some change before school was let out– before Poppy was killed– Severus had finally caught a glimpse at the damage the matron had spoken of. It was worse than she'd mentioned; when Dazai had fainted, there had apparently been no fresh or healing cuts. But this time, accompanied by the large, gaping wound he'd been admitted for, scabbed and healing cuts ran diagonally from the pulse point on his wrist to the innermost part of his elbow. Unlike at least part of his first year, Dazai had begun actively cutting himself again.

What had triggered it? Had he been doing so before he left for winter break, or did the habit worsen after that so-called "mugging"?

Severus had been avoiding thinking about it. For his own sanity.

He doesn't have the time to think too much about the boy right now, however. Not with the final preparations for the school year being made, Professors– both new and old– scurrying through the halls as they ready their classrooms. With so much of his summer dedicated to going through the paperwork Poppy had left behind and researching how one could go about adopting a child, he's a little bit behind on his work.

While, overall, the changes Minerva has chosen to make have been positive, there is one choice of hire which he finds questionable…

"I know you do not like Remus Lupin, Severus, but I'm hardly in a position to be picky." Minerva exclaims, steps speeding up, heels clacking loudly against the floors.

Growling, Severus shakes his head. "I never said I was bothered, Minerva." It's a childish response– anyone with a functioning brain could tell he's angered by the news of Remus Lupin's expected presence in the school. Maybe it's childish. Maybe he's letting childhood troubles cause problems for himself as an adult, but he does not trust Remus. Especially not with teaching Dazai. Even if the man wasn't as active a participant as Black and Potter, he'd hardly disavowed the behaviour. A spectator, watching as his friends tormented him.

… That isn't the sort of person he wants instructing the boy, especially with how severe the bullying and ostracisation has become.

After dealing with Gilderoy and his egregious behaviour towards Dazai, Severus is less than keen on having yet another possible problem teacher introduced. Two years in a row the boy has had a teacher with a grudge against him! Merlin forgive him for being a bit concerned about a third! Lord knows the boy doesn't do things halfway.

"Yes, you are, Severus. Do not attempt to pull the wool over my eyes– you won't even have to interact with the man very often if you do not choose to! I can't have you chase the man away."

Scoffing, he throws his hands into the air and stops, turning to face the woman. "I'm hardly going to try to bully him out of the school, how juvenile do you think I am?"

Minerva's lips thin, "I'm not trying to call you childish and you know that. This year has to go as smoothly as possible, lest the Ministry or DOE decides that a change in staff is necessary!"

"I can tolerate working with Remus Lupin." He spits through gritted teeth, fingers moving to pinch the bridge of his nose, as though that will help ward away the semi-permanent headache he's found himself suffering from since meeting Dazai. "I would just…" Severus picks his words very carefully, "prefer Mr. Dazai not be in his class."

This really isn't a conversation they should be having out in the halls of Hogwarts, as empty as they may be. It makes his skin itch nervously, that part of him from his own time in school ever vigilant in watching out for any possible threat.

All at once, Minerva looks exhausted. This isn't an uncommon sight these days, sadly, what with her having become Headmistress under such… unideal circumstances, followed by the subsequent deaths of not only two students and a staff member, but her predecessor as well. Nowadays, there's always a certain heaviness to the woman. She's been stern and non-nonsense since Severus met her all those years ago, but now…

She understands exactly why he does not want Remus instructing Dazai. After all, she'd been teaching in Hogwarts when Severus was a boy, and had witnessed him running with the same gang of boys who made it their lifes' mission to make him miserable. It's probably why she looks so sympathetic– and Severus has always hated sympathy, no matter who it was coming from.

Sneering, he turns away, stalking down the halls.

"He's our only Defense Against the Dark Arts professor! Severus, Mr. Dazai will only further fall behind if he's pulled from Lupin's class, and that's the last thing the boy needs right now!" She falls in step at his side, brushing her robes of non-existant debris.

"The last thing he needs is another teacher with a vendetta, Minerva." He points out dryly. At that, the woman nearly flinches at the reminder of Hogwarts' continuous failures when it comes to their staff the last couple years. He wants to feel bad, because he knows those problems were not by any means her fault– rather falling on Albus' shoulders and his damned bigger picture– but he has a point to get across. "I'll take over his Defence Against the Dark Arts classes."

"Absolutely not! You're busy enough as is, and the boy doesn't need to be othered any more than he already is! I understand that you are concerned about Mr. Dazai, but there are still other students." Minerva sighs, shaking her head. "You have my word, Severus. Your concerns about the boy aren't going to be ignored, both you and I have his best interests in mind. But you cannot oversee every aspect of his school life, you know this."

Severus clicks his tongue, looking away. He knows she's right– of course she is. Minerva is no fool, and he knows that she cares about the boy's wellbeing. He also knows that he isn't exactly being… reasonable at the moment. But knowing a boy who's already faced such severe bullying will now be taught by a man who'd bullied Severus himself in his youth… it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Makes him uneasy, as if he is throwing Dazai to the wolves.

Both literally and metaphorically, in this case.

"Fine," he grits out, jaw so tense he hears his molars creak. "But if I suspect anything to be going on…" He warns.

When their eyes meet, he finds understanding. "Then you should bring those concerns to my attention. I'll handle any problems that may arise. Just…" the Headmistress pauses thoughtfully, chewing at her bottom lip. "Give the man a chance. You'll find that people can change quite a bit given enough time."

Click, click, click, she passes him by, walking deeper into the cavern that is Hogwarts.

It's been a longtime since this place has felt so cold to Severus.

Dazai had kept his promise. Sorta.

He'd kept in semi-regular contact with Blaise, much to Mori's amusement. The others, less so. Due to how far they all are from one another, Blaise tended to act as a bit of a go-between. Ron passed a message for Dazai to Blaise, Blaise passed it to Dazai. Dazai passed a message back to Blaise, and so on. Hermione, however, hadn't sent him letters– no, after she'd asked about his phone number, she'd managed to call him a couple times throughout the summer! Each call was short, given the long-distance charges, but it'd been somewhat… nice to hear a friendly voice for once.

If Dazai had offered to make the calls so the charges would be on Mori's dime, that doesn't mean anything. They'd be able to call and talk for however long they wanted, and keeping up morale within your ranks is an important thing!

Sadly, Hermione is responsible, and thus said that spending Mori's money so recklessly would be a bad idea.

Boo.

Blaise had attempted to broach the topic of what they'd done last year through letters, however Dazai had shot him down. Wait until we're back at school and in the privacy of the gang's office, he'd said. That way there wouldn't be a possibility of them being overheard or spied upon. Really, anyone could interfere with their letters while en route, and admitting to the murders they'd perpetrated would be a bad thing for any old moron to find. Then they'd have to commit even more murders, or be ruined.

Apparently, the Weasley's won a sum of money and visited Egypt as a family. Ron sent him a letter containing a photo he'd accidentally nullified of the Weasley's all standing together in front of a pyramid. Admittedly, it was cool; Dazai almost wishes he was there to see those mutated skeletons that Ron had mentioned in his letter. George, Fred and Ginny had also contributed to the letter, promising to tell him all about their travels once they were all back in school together.

Dazai won't admit it to Mori, but he is very much anticipating the reports his subordinates would be giving him. The man would just use it as another excuse to chastise him for his apparent newfound weakness.

Groaning, Dazai finishes writing his next– and final, at least for this summer– letter to Blaise, glancing over to stare at Featherbrain. Maybe he's beginning to grow numb to the racket she makes, but she seems to be much quieter these days. Calmer. Maybe she's maturing or something? Or tired– she has made a lot of trips this summer. Egg huffs into Dazai's bed sheets, smoke billowing from her nose as she stretches. Since returning to Yokohama, she seems to have essentially claimed his bed. Whenever he tries to make it, she gets rather offended at the deconstruction of her nest. It's pretty annoying, but ultimately not a battle worth fighting. Plus, it isn't like she chases him out of the bed– she's more than happy to have him there, even if one wrong move would result in her untimely death.

Whatever.

Placing his pen in the World's Okayest Teacher mug, Dazai reaches back to stretch, sighing as he feels joints pop. With school only a week and a half away, Dazai's been busy preparing. Not for the schoolwork, of course. Despite how well he did on the exams, he has no intention of becoming a good student. Or even a decent one. He refuses to ruin his carefully curated persona! Rather, he's been attempting to prepare mentally for the storm he'll be without a doubt wandering into.

With four deaths at Hogwarts, and the murder of Albus Dumbledore, Dazai will no doubt be getting flack for all of them. Unlike the Daily Prophet's previous nonsense, they're actually right this time; Dazai had indeed killed them. A familiar and four people– an impressive killcount to rack up in only a handful of days.

Blaise has kept him updated with what's being spread about him. Despite the arrests of Spleen and Wiggins, it's still somewhat widely believed that he is the culprit of those four deaths. As for Dumbledore's death, the hysteria only seems to have worsened. One of the most powerful wizards from the current century, murdered in his own home! The idea would ordinarily be unfathomable, but in Dazai's hands, Albus was hardly a foe to be concerned over. While he hasn't admitted to his role in Albus' murder to Blaise, he has a strong hunch that the other at least suspects that to be the case.

… There's a lot to be discussed with Blaise, now that they're rather literal partners in crime.

"Featherbrain," Dazai calls, leaning back forward to fold up his sheet of paper, sliding it into a new envelope. The bird looks up from her perch in her cage, taking off and landing atop Dazai's head. A habit she seems uninterested in breaking. Sealing the envelope shut, he holds it up for the bird to grab. "Take this to Blaise, alright? And don't come back here– go and wait at the Leaky Cauldron and catch some mice for Tom, got it?"

She hoots cheerfully, snatching the letter from his hands and circling the room. Egg glances up at her, tracking her flying. Quickly, Dazai jumps from his desk chair and opens up his bedroom door, watching Featherbrain shoot out and away, finding her way through headquarters and outside. It's a bit out of the way, but Mori sealed Dazai's window closed after an incident earlier in the summer that left one of his arms… incapacitated, if you will.

Nowadays, the leash Mori keeps him on is a bit looser. Physically, at least. Maybe it has something to do with the death of his father– he'd always been insistent upon Dazai remaining locked away in his room. Mori doesn't seem to care as much about keeping him trapped in a room day-in and day-out. While there's often someone to accompany him on his trips outdoors– mostly in the form of Hirotsu, or Mori himself if he has the time– it's far more freedom than he's previously experienced.

Aside from his whole "jumping out of a window" scheme early into the break, followed by his subsequent "house-arrest," he's spent a lot of his summer wandering the streets of Yokohama aimlessly. It was strange, finally being able to freely step foot on the streets which he's watched from high above. He visits a nearby park sometimes, though he never has the guts to approach any of the kids there. Instead, he remains a smear of black off to the side, watching placidly as kids both older and younger than him play.

Hirotsu never says anything about this bizarre people-watching habit of his. Just remains a silent companion.

… Dazai bets he'd never imagine that he'd be saddled with babysitting duty when the previous Boss died. If it does bother him, he keeps his complaints to himself. For the best.

Only a few more days until he's flying out to the UK again, and he's warily excited for it. Unlike last year, though, he's prepared for whatever hostility may be awaiting him. As much as one can prepare for something like that, he supposes.

The Malfoy patriarch is just as awkward as Dazai last remembered. Unlike when they met in Diagon Alley, he's less self-assured. His shoulders are rigid, and while his expensive robes and hair are impeccably done, there's still a somewhat frazzled quality to him. That seems to be a running theme when the man is in a room with Mori– he's thrown terribly off-kilter, caught in a never ending cycle of bewilderment, condescension, and obedience. Maybe it's because Mori is a muggle, and Lucius isn't used to viewing muggles as equal, much less submitting himself to them. So, despite his clean appearance, Lucius Malfoy looks anything but put together.

Neither Narcissa nor Draco are here this time. That's for the best, in Dazai's opinion. On a purely logical level– no emotions involved, because those don't need to be factored into his thought processes– having Draco around Mori is a bad idea. Draco is his subordinate, not Mori's, and he doesn't need the man stealing him out from under him! At the rate at which Dazai is going, Draco may become more loyal to him than his own father in a couple years– while his respect remains, his desire to follow his fathers rules is waning. He wonders if Draco's loyalty to his father was really so fragile, or if they've all become involved in the perfect storm of scenarios to push the two apart.

It doesn't matter– either way, Dazai is the one to benefit from it.

"–angerous, I understand why you think we'd benefit from doing this, but things are tumultuous as is. Don't you think it would be wise to pay more mind to the return of Lord Voldemort?" Lucius speaks carefully, words tense yet cautious. He manages to look incredibly uncomfortable in the velvet chair he sits in, as though the seat were made of nails. That's something Dazai understands, at least; sometimes in the presence of people like Mori or Father, the most comfortable of places can turn cold and inhospitable.

Mori hums, feigning thoughtfulness. In front of him sits a half-drunk cup of tea, which the man had promptly abandoned when he noticed Dazai flicking crumpled bits of paper inside. Lucius' own is similarly neglected, though remains untampered with. Dazai had only taken a couple sips from Mori's cup at the beginning of the meeting before deeming it far too bitter to stomach, something which the man had found amusing.

(Perhaps Professor Snape has spoiled him a bit on that front. He thinks, distantly, that Mori would probably disapprove of the Professor's odd fondness for him.)

"At this point in time, direct intervention is unneeded. As you said, things are tumultuous, and that works greatly in our favour at the moment. What do you think, Dazai? Do you think we should pursue action against the Death Eaters?"

"Voldemort is useless at the moment. Last I saw him he was just a tumour on someone's head. He's not worth worrying over right now. There's nothing he can do to us." He huffs, then drops one foot from the top of the desk, lightly kicking at the man's shin. Sitting atop his mahogany desk like this, draped in his coat, half-scrunched into a ball and listening to boring business talk, Dazai feels a bit like a decoration. A houseplant– not there for any functional reason other than to be occasionally glanced at and admired. It's annoying, and he's not terribly fond of it. "Don't ask stupid questions you know the answer to, Doctor."

Mori chuckles, leaning back into his seat. From the corner of his eye, Dazai notes the perturbed expression their guest wears. Lucius doesn't quite know what to make of Dazai, that much is clear, though it does seem that he realises just how much sway he has. He, while named one of five executives, does not actually perform any of the accompanying duties one would expect. Mori says he will in a few years time, but at the moment he has more important things to focus on; Hogwarts, mainly. He can hardly command others from across the world, after all. "Apologies, Dazai. I thought I ought to ask your opinion on the matter."

Tersely, "The Ministry of Magic is looking for any opportunity to force Minerva McGonagall's hand in removing the boy from Hogwarts. What will you do if that comes to pass?"

Dazai turns to face the other man, eyes narrowed. Mori waves a hand dismissively, as though it's not even a possibility. He doesn't think Mori should be so cavalier on the matter– the entire wizarding world is against him, and even with Snape at his back, there's only so much he can do. Even with his somewhat heroic act of killing the Basilisk last year, he doubts the fear and hatred the Daily Prophet has cultivated will have waned. From the clippings Blaise has sent him, it doesn't seem anything has changed on that front.

He fears the Ministry will be keeping a much, much closer eye on him. Dazai will have to be more careful this year.

"I trust that Dazai will be careful enough to avoid that happening."

Rolling his eyes, Dazai snips back, "that's easy for you to say. Most of that school wants to murder me." Dropping both of his legs down, Dazai leans back on his hand, once again struck by how obnoxious wearing a cast is.

The man only smiles, much to Dazai's annoyance.

Lucius clears his throat, shifting in his seat. "... We should remain cautious of the possibility, nonetheless."

Mori turns to face the man once more, expression pleasant. "Of course! With Ozaki's newfound sway in the magical world, I'll know if something so severe were to happen. As of now, I'm pleased with our current position."

"And I'm the one facing all the risk…" the boy grumbles, pouting.

"I wouldn't quite say that." Mori says, his gaze not leaving Lucius' face. The man stays silent– they all know exactly what Mori means by that.

He wonders if the Malfoy family regrets involving themselves with the Port Mafia yet.

"Dazai-san," Hirotsu calls, voice cutting through the quiet evening air. The only noise which surrounds them is the distant sound of traffic, and the rustling of leaves. So late at night, the park is completely empty of children, only Dazai and Hirotsu occupying its premises.

Shiny black dress shoes scrape against the gravel below, pushing himself backwards. The swingset creaks as he oscillates back and forth. The continuous movement is almost soothing; a calm, monotonous swaying. Perhaps the way a mother may rock her baby, or perhaps a longing older man in his rocking chair. So rarely does he get the opportunity to indulge in this sort of sensation.

It feels foolish, honestly. He isn't a baby in need of a mothers comfort, or a child who would have interest in playing on children's structures.

And yet, when he has the chance, he finds his way here. It's ridiculous, and a hang-up he needs to fix sooner than later.

"Dazai-san," the man reiterates, and Dazai looks up from his shoes and the small pits they've dug up. When Hirotsu sees that he's caught his attention, he stubs out his cigarette on the metal fence that separates them from the street. Once it's out, he tosses it into a metal bin near a bench. "It's late, I believe it may be best we get going."

With a petulant sigh, he hops off of the swing, not bothering to fill in the gouges he'd created. Someone else will, or some kids will continue it for him– maybe they'd be able to dig an impressive hole, perhaps even big enough that Dazai could jump headfirst into it and die?

"Fine, let's go. It's getting cold out here anyway!"

Dazai skips ahead of the older man, grabbing a hold of a fence post with his good arm and using his momentum to swing himself out of the entrance and onto the nearby sidewalk. The metal isn't very smooth against his palms, and he finds himself regretting not having brought his gloves.

The older man follows him at a short distance, and Dazai can see his lighter flick on from the corner of his eye.

It's interesting how much he doesn't miss Japan when he leaves. He can't say he necessarily dreads coming back to Yokohama, but he isn't exactly thrilled like the other kids at Hogwarts are. All coming back to Japan means' is a couple of long, boring months where he does little aside from wandering the halls of the Port Mafia's headquarters, sit in on inane bureaucratic meetings, and follow whatever whim Mori has found himself chasing at that given moment.

It's boring, essentially. No gang, no fun pranks, no messing with students or teachers… just the usual mafia activities he's long gotten used to. He has more time on his hands than he's ever had before, and never has it been so agonising. Sure, Dazai can mess with Mori, but it's not as fun when he knows the man actually enjoys being pushed around and bullied. While Snape has grown used to his antics, he still clearly is annoyed by them. The day Snape enjoyed a prank he pulled on him would be the same day hell froze over.

When he pulls nonsense with the other mafioso who are present within the building, they never say anything. They withhold their reactions and simply go about their days as if Dazai had not done something absurd. He knows why, of course– he's Mori's charge, and as foolish as it may seem to them, holds the same power as any of the other four executives. Possibly even more, considering his closer relationship to the new Boss. It's boring. He wants a reaction, for Gods' sake! But nope. Nothing. A total bore.

Something strange flashes ahead of him, and Dazai squints to get a better look at what it is. The air ripples, the distant neon colours of shop signs distorting as something moves ahead of him.

It's… familiar.

Within a matter of seconds, a triple decker bus screeches to a halt at his side, nearly sending Dazai stumbling in surprise. Hirotsu, only about a metre and a half away speeds up, approaching this new vehicle. The man looks suspicious, naturally, and that confusion only multiplies when a European man steps out of the bus. Below his arm is a newspaper tucked, and he looks terribly bored, face blotchy and red with acne.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike and I'll be your conductor for this evening. You're the kid we're looking for, right?" He drawls dully, barely even bothering to look at Dazai.

He glances back at Hirotsu, then shrugs. "Maybe? Don't you have to go pretty far out of your way to get here?"

The man snorts sardonically, "that's for sure. Come on, what are you waiting for? We don't have all night you know. There are other stops!"

Dazai makes no move to step forward. "Who sent the bus so far out here?"

An impatient voice from inside shouts something that Dazai can't make out, and the annoyance on the man's face only grows. "The Minister for Magic, kid. Who else? Are you coming or not?"

That… Dazai blinks.

The Minister for Magic sent for him? Why? Sure, Dazai is far from well liked in the magical community, but has he become such an issue that the Minister himself wants to become involved?

Maybe he shouldn't be so surprised that the man has taken an interest in Dazai. He doubts the guy is being looked upon too favourably right now because of him– Dazai has caused enough of a stink in the magical community that his ratings have likely tanked. Dazai is an issue that everyone can agree is bad, pure blood or not. A problem they want fixed, by any means necessary.

Ah, maybe the Minister has sent this bus to fetch him so he can kill him? It's a thrilling idea! Not his most favoured scenario, but beggars can't be choosers.

Humming, Dazai turns around to face Hirotsu, a bright smile splitting his face in two. "Alright, I'm going to go with this strange gentleman. Feel free to let Mori-sensei know!"

Hirotsu blinks, once, then twice. Dazai sticks his arm through the sleeve of Mori's coat to put something between his bare hand and the bus, then hops on inside. The older man stares at him as he disappears through the door, quickly followed by the conductor, bewildered. Just as he begins to call, "Dazai-san!" the bus takes off with a vengeance. Without having even sat down, Dazai is flung hard into a seat.

An old man sits in the driver's seat, eyes wide behind his glasses, which only further amplify their buggy nature. He drives like they're being chased, and the seats rattle back and forth, leaving Dazai with the only option of clinging on for dear life. Somehow, all on his own, this feels far more chaotic. There's no Snape nearby, just a couple of other unaffected travellers in their own seats.

With the familiar ache of magic in his skull, Dazai lets out a long, deep breath, and shuts his eyes. They're hardly closed for a second when the sound of a man clearing his throat catches his attention. The conductor leans forward into his space, his breath stinking of tobacco as his eyes narrow and look Dazai up and down. Suspiciously, the man asks, "you look familiar. Have I seen you somewhere?"

Dazai puts on his best approximation of an innocent, boyish smile, still desperately grasping at the seat to keep from being flung about. "No sir! I just have one of those faces, it seems."

Seeming a bit unconvinced, the conductor pulls out of Dazai's personal space and flips his Newspaper back open. The Daily Prophet. Heart skipping a beat, Dazai considers trying to get up while the bus is still moving and find a seat further from the man. Knowing the type of hogwash that paper writes about, there's a high chance that Dazai will be front and centre on it.

Though… for the first time in a while, the face staring back at him on the front page is not his own, but rather that of a long-haired man. He's laughing madly in a loop, hair matted and looking gaunt. Below his photo, the headline screams, "SIRIUS BLACK ESCAPES FROM AZKABAN! IS HE SEEKING OUT HIS NEW DARK LORD?"

The bus takes a hard left, and Dazai hits the wall with a thud, dislodging any thoughts about that rubbish paper. Ahead of him, a tiny head cackles and shouts nonsense to the driver. Behind Dazai, someone is managing to sleep on the bus, a feat which he had no idea would be possible.

How anyone could get used to this thing, Dazai hasn't a clue. He knows he's in for an exceptionally long drive, and he imagines he'll be coming out of it with more bruises than he'd gotten on with.

On account of the time, the Leaky Cauldron is busy when Dazai arrives. Tom is waiting for him outside, a nervous smile on his face as he greets Dazai. He can't tell if that nervousness is due to Dazai himself, or the fact that the Minister for Magic is upstairs awaiting his arrival. Either way, it puts Dazai similarly ill at ease.

The owner guides him inside, acting like something of a shield between Dazai and the other patrons as he leads him away from the bar and up the stairs to the rooms. Once outside of a particular door, Tom stops and roots through one of his pockets, withdrawing a small silver key with a tag attached to it. For a motel room, he explained– for some reason, the Minister had gone and gotten him a room to stay in until he left for Hogwarts. Unsurprisingly, that only further confuses the boy, and Dazai resolves himself to ask to change rooms later. Just so the Minister and anyone else he may know won't know where he's sleeping. He's at least semi-confident that Tom won't sell him out.

Probably. Maybe.

Tom knocks on the door, and a voice from within shouts, "come in!" Hesitantly, Dazai does so, glancing back at Tom as he steps past the doors threshold. The look the man gives him is probably meant to be reassuring, but it's anything but. Dazai slips the door shut behind him, and turns to face the person who had so presumptuously demanded his presence.

"Ahh, Mr. Dazai!" A round, pudgy older man calls out, voice distinctly nervous. This is the first time Dazai has seen him in person, and Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge is an unassuming, dull looking man. From the expression on his face, you'd think that it were he who'd been trapped in here with Dazai, perspiration beading along his thinning hairline. He waves him over to an open seat, and Dazai falls into it with a groan. "It's good to meet you. I hope the Knight Bus found you well."

Bluntly, Dazai replies, "the conductor drives like a madman. I hit my head twice."

"Erm," Fudge coughs into his fist, "right, yes, well… I'd say it's a good idea to get right down to it?"

Raising a brow, Dazai folds his arms across his chest, or at least the best he can with one in a cast and sling. Suddenly, Dazai perks up, which startles the man across from him. "Oh! Am I being arrested?! I'd like to request the death penalty! The death penalty is practised here, right?"

Sputtering, Fudge regards him in absolute confusion. "Arrested? Death penalty?! You're not in any trouble right now, Mr. Dazai! I'd just like to ask you a question, that's all."

Eyes narrowing, Dazai watches him carefully. All this just to ask a question? It must be one hell of a question, a question Dazai may not be interested in answering… The Minister for Magic suddenly contacting him out of the blue is hardly a normal occurrence, and with his involvement in the murder of Albus Dumbledore last year, Dazai will have to tread especially carefully throughout this conversation.

Dazai smiles, ignoring the squirming of the Minister. "Of course, Minister! Ask away, though a simple muggleborn like me may not have the answer you're looking for."

At the pleasant, easygoing response, Fudge seems to relax a little bit. "Right, that's true… Do you happen to know anything about Sirius Black, Mr. Dazai?"

Blinking, Dazai pauses before responding. "Sirius Black? I think I saw something about him in a newspaper, but that's all. Escaped prison, right?"

Gravely, Fudge nods. "Indeed, Sirius Black is a very dangerous man, so we're very concerned about recapturing him."

"What does that have to do with me, though?"

At that, Fudge clams up, glancing around the room anxiously. Honestly, this man couldn't look more guilty if he tried! Though…

Guilty of what?

"Nothing at all, don't worry yourself over it!"

"You sent the Knight Bus all the way to Japan to talk about something that has nothing to do with me?"

Shaking his head, Minister Fudge springs to his feet at a speed a bit surprising for a man of his build. Clambering over to a shelf against the far wall, Fudge beckons Dazai out of his seat and over to him. Hesitantly, he does as instructed, and follows the man to look at whatever it is he's trying to show him.

Books. A number of them, in fact. And sifting through them, Dazai finds that he recognises each of their titles…

"Are these my school books?" He asks, though the question is redundant. They are, without a doubt, the books he'd been told to purchase this year for class. While Dazai hasn't had the opportunity to compare lists with the others yet, he's sure his curriculum is once again different. Despite the lack of faith the Headmistress had shown towards Dazai's passing of exams last year, they'd clearly buckled down and decided what he'll be doing this year over the summer. Though, will he have remedial classes with Professor Snape again this year? What about his remedial transfiguration classes with McGonagall? Surely she's very busy these days, so perhaps he'll be foisted off onto someone else to deal with.

So many unknowns! For all he knows, Hogwarts has imploded without Albus Dumbledore.

… He doubts that. McGonagall is plenty capable of running the school.

"That's right!" Fudge responds, pleased. "I picked them up for you in preparation of meeting you. This way you won't have to bother doing annoying chores like going to Diagon Alley!"

Shoulders slumping, Dazai just barely restrains himself from rolling his eye. In all honesty, that isn't exactly a bad thing. He hadn't been looking forward to going to Diagon Alley, especially since his face is so well recognised now. Sure, if he ran into the twins he could use them as buffers, but that would only do so much. Like this, Dazai can just wait things out in the Leaky Cauldron. Though the rest of his supplies are still in Yokohama… maybe Mori will send it to him? Not that Featherbrain would be able to carry a suitcase all the way to Hogwarts. Egg, though…

Shrugging, Dazai pastes on a smile, "thanks Minister! How kind of you!"

Fudge, without any preamble, scoops up the pile of books and dumps them in Dazai's arms– or arm, more appropriately–, nearly tipping him over with the weight of them. Grunting, Dazai steadies himself, adjusting the books. Two large hands plant themselves on his shoulders, and Fudge marches Dazai out of the room, paying no mind to the way he'd stiffened or how he was stumbling.

"It was good to meet you, Mr. Dazai! Have a good day!" The man calls out, and Dazai only just manages to turn and look back at him as the door is slammed closed in his face.

What a weirdo. A suspicious weirdo…

Recalling the number on his key, Dazai sighs, then decides to go find himself his room.

Unlike much of the wizarding world, the Leaky Cauldron isn't a confusing maze. Things are straightforward here; hallways lead you where they should, and the staircases don't move. Because of this, Dazai considers it a sensible place. Plus, Tom is willing to do him favours, even if some of said favours are pointless.

All in all, as weird as his start at Hogwarts this year seems to be, it wasn't exactly bad.

Near the staircase down to the bar, Dazai finds his room. Shifting his books to rest atop his cast and half leaning against the wall, he reaches for his pockets to grab the key to unlock the door.

Except, something in his arms moves. Halting, Dazai tries to adjust the books, but the movement continues. Suddenly, and without warning, a book leaps from his arms and rolls down the stairs, growling all the while. The rest of his tomes hit the floorboards, leaving Dazai to yelp and try and catch them.

That book is alive! And running from him no less!

With his stuff in a heap in front of the door, Dazai jumps over them and bounds down the creaky stairs after his runaway book. In the bar, someone yelps, and he has a sinking feeling that his stupid monster-book-thing is the cause.

"Catch it!" Someone yells just as Dazai turns the corner at the bottom of the stairwell, slamming shoulder-first into the wall.

Dazai blinks.

"Stroke it's spine, you git!" Hermione cries, a red, flat-faced cat in her arms. Tom is using a broom to try and steer the thing, shredded paper covering the floor as it bites at the brush. Ron is standing on a chair, mouth pulled into a startled expression as he tries to avoid its teeth. Nearby, Fred and George cackle, making no move to help catch the rogue book.

"You catch it, I'm not touching that thing!" Ron retorts, and Hermione sighs, aggrieved. Dropping the cat onto a chair, Hermione jumps onto the book none-too-gently and runs a hand down the spine. Just like that, the thing stills, and she picks it up without any more fanfare.

"Oh Ron, did you not check your school supply list? You'll have to learn how to deal with enchanted and living books anyway! We have to buy this same book soon." Hermione drops the book onto the table. Tom doesn't stop wielding his broom like a weapon, though.

Ron's already pale face only bleaches further at that.

"Y-you're joking…"

Dazai steps out into the bar, a grin on his face. "You caught my book! Enchanting something like that to run away is so pointless– I don't get it!"

Hermione, Ron, Fred and George turn to look at him, and Dazai walks further into the room.

"Dazai!" Hermione calls, a smile lighting up her face as she crosses the room to meet him. Fred and George do the same, though unlike Hermione, they don't care to leave him any personal space. The both of them wrap Dazai up into a big hug, squishing him in the process.

His chest feels sticky and warm, and laughter bubbles up from his throat.

"Snakey! You're here!"

Squirming between them, the twins eventually let him free, though they continue to hover. "I got here not too long ago. Since when do you all stay here before school?"

"We don't– just stopped in to eat! We all need to pick up our supplies. Seems like you've got us beat on that front, though." Hermione explains. "Do you want to join us all in Diagon Alley? I know you've got all your stuff already, but…"

Dazai shakes his head. "The Minister for Magic doesn't seem to want me going out in public. Probably something about causing hysteria– whatever!"

Hermione blinks, confused. "The Minister for Magic–?"

"I'll explain at school. Most of my stuff is still back in Japan… Hey, if I give one of you the money, would you get me another pair of gloves?"

They all exchange looks.

"Er, uh, sure mate. Why is your stuff still in Japan, though…?" Ron asks tentatively.

Before Dazai can reiterate that he'll explain when they arrive at school, four more heads of bright red hair enter the bar. Ginny, Percy, Ms. and Mr. Weasley come in with armfuls of stuff all packed in black sacks. When Ginny catches sight of him, she smiles his way, "Dazai!"

Returning the gesture, Dazai decides to take a seat at the long dining table. The other kids follow; Fred and George taking up the two seats at his sides, while Ron and Hermione go to join Ginny on the opposite side facing them. Arthur and Molly place the big bags on the table, the woman wearing a pleasant smile on her face as she greets Dazai.

Arthur, however… Well, Dazai hasn't met the Weasley patriarch until now, but he's wearing a concerned look on his face. Troubled. As though he wants to say something to Dazai, but isn't sure if he should.

Dazai shrugs Mori's coat off and onto the back of his chair, yawning as he slumps into the seat. While he doesn't sleep much, Dazai still struggles to adjust to the eight hour time difference between London and Yokohama, and it always leaves him just a bit more exhausted than usual.

"Oh dear, what happened to your arm!" Molly gasps, eyes wide and concerned as she stares at his cast and sling. The others shift back to look at him, eyeing his arm like it were something bizarre or concern-worthy. The twins look especially bothered; faces all pinched up like they'd bitten into a lemon, or maybe eaten one of those sewage-flavoured jelly beans.

Dazai flaps a hand dismissively, shrugging as he puts on a sheepish expression. "You know, I don't save all my adventures for Hogwarts…"

Hermione sighs, though not unfondly. "No wonder you dropped your book, with your arm broken! Do I even want to know what you got up to this summer…?"

"Well…" Dazai begins, voice teasing. Ginny giggles into her hands.

"Sweetheart, I think it would be best if you got that arm of yours checked out at school, alright?" From the look on Molly's face, she isn't suggesting he do so, but rather commanding. Dazai nods along, despite knowing for a fact that he'll be doing no such thing.

At his left, George hums thoughtfully. Fred resolutely says to his mother, "don't you worry, Ma, we'll drag him straight to the infirmary! He won't be getting out of this one."

Dazai pouts and elbows the boy, though not hard. The way Fred dramatically drapes himself over Dazai is wholly unnecessary. He shoves fruitlessly to get the other off of him, but he knows it's a pointless endeavour.

Molly looks pleased. Arthur, however, still looks unsure.