Chapter Summery: After Wizards-For-Hire Genji and McCree receive a request from the Minister of Magic to deal with brewing unrest in Japan, one of them will be forced to make a choice that will inevitably decide whether he lives with the consequences, or whether he lives at all.
tw: self-harm and mind control (though nothing that would be that out of place in the HP universe)
Here, There Be Dragons
Despite, or perhaps due to, his careful upbringing and effortless climbing of every social hierarchy he encountered, Genji had never possessed the quantity of patience necessary to deal with bureaucracy. It didn't matter if it was magical or muggle, it was too slow, too stuffy, too complicated, too bleh for his tastes.
He much preferred decision-making with nigh instant results, with no checks, no balances, and absolutely nothing to delay or hold him back. It was in the interest of maintaining that lifestyle that he and McCree had started a Wizard-for-Hire business. They specialized in home visits, where they often took care of magical creature infestations like gnomes, pixies, and boggarts, and even had a sizable ad in the phone book.
Unless the Minister of Magic had a literal skeleton in his closet, Genji couldn't fathom a reason for why he'd be in need of their services.
Since he'd cast a spell on his hair a few years back to make it change with his moods, it was while sporting a head of canary yellow spikes that he stepped into the Minister's office with Jesse at his side. Each of them made their way to the leather armchairs in the room without waiting for the Minister's acknowledgement, since the man appeared to be having a heated conversion with someone on the phone. His pudgy face was a bit flushed, Genji noticed as he flopped into his seat. His pale skin was chafed from where his collar bit into his neck, and on his forehead an even coat of sweat shined in the light of the lamp sitting on his desk.
The cushions gave off a scent of dust and age that had Genji wrinkling his nose, and he turned to see what his partner was making of their surroundings, only to see that McCree had sunk low in his chair, his long legs splayed out and taking up an unseemly amount of space, and tipped his wide-brimmed hat over his eyes as though the cowboy were settling in for a nap.
Grumbling came from the walls where dozens of frames filled with past Ministers and staff muttered furiously about the blatant disrespect they were paying the office. It wasn't the first time they'd suffered the disapproval of a bunch of dithering old men, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, so instead of giving his partner a sharp kick to the shin to remind him that they were sitting in the presence of the most powerful man in the magical community, Genji chose to indulge in some of his more vindictive impulses by instead crossing his arms over his chest and slouching.
The complaints, which only escalated at the display, elicited a cheeky smirk from the young wizard. Though the Minister's conversation, of which they were only privy to half, did seem to be winding down, neither of the young men seemed to mind so much, not when they'd found something so amusing to occupy their time with.
By the time the Minister set down the phone, the pair were so far out of their chairs it was a miracle they weren't sprawled out on the floor. Rubbing his eyes wearily while he waited for his honorable and esteemed guests to scramble to right themselves, the Minister quietly requested, in a tone of exhaustion that revealed an unexpectedly deep register, for the picture frames to calm themselves.
"The reason I've called you boys in today is simple. The truth is that the Ministry is in need of your assistance."
Alert now that they had the Minister's attention, McCree tipped back his hat and drawled, "Now, how could an important man like you possibly benefit from our services?" There were plenty of small pest control businesses in England, and while Genji and his partner were certainly competent at their jobs, and offered a lower price than most, their combined expertise in spells, charms, and curses wasn't anywhere near enough to draw attention from the government.
At least, not as far as anyone outside their small circle of trusted connections was aware of.
"There have been rumors hailing from Japan of widespread dissent regarding the long-maintained Statute of Secrecy." If the Minister noticed how one of his guests grew a few shades paler at his words, or saw how his garish yellow hair shifted to a sickly and faded green, he didn't say anything, only barreled ahead as though the words had been stored within him, putrefying, and now he was eager to get them out. "Muggles are getting their hands on powerful potions and narcotics, are purchasing in ignorance cursed items that drive them mad in their sleep, and the results, in most cases, have been," glancing aside, he stopped to swallow, his fingertips curling into a fist,"tragic."
"We'd like you to talk to the leader of one of their most influential families, Mr. Shimada." Having been keeping an eye on his partner, McCree's head snapped to face the Minister, his entire spine going stiff and straight. "See if you can make him see reason, and if this blatant disregard for the law and welfare of both muggle and wizarding kind persists," a large, calloused hand wiped at his brow, "…then no one can say that we didn't try."
After looking to McCree, who appeared to be mulling over the man's request with an expression that didn't yet reveal any clues as to what he made of them, Genji asked, "Why me, though? There must be someone else more qualified for this." The truth was that Genji hadn't seen his brother in six years, not since Hanzo had refused to let him return to the clan after his Hogwarts graduation.
Though outwardly he appeared calm, if shaken, on the inside he was seething.
During their childhood, Hanzo had done everything he could to keep him in the dark regarding their family's dealings with black magic and crime, but Genji wasn't an idiot. He'd heard the whispers, had known from a young age that those shadowy wizards who came to speak to their father weren't stopping by for some tea and a chat.
What had happened to Hanzo over the years, that he would allow things with the clan to get this bad? Where was he now?
Again, the Minister took a moment to gather his thoughts before replying. He looked over the back of his armchair to stare out the window. Outside, on the sidewalk below, there were wizards and witches waiting in clusters to cross the street, some of whom were couples with their arms linked. One wizard, a tall man with a top hat, spun a quick circle, and grinned as the boy atop his shoulders flailed his arms and squealed with delight. Finally, the Minister's gaze return to them, and he explained, "We think you're our best chance of bringing him in non-lethally."
Nails digging into his armrests, Genji's response came out dangerously flat, "You want to arrest my brother?" It should have been obvious that this was what this was all leading to. Looking back, it was obvious.
Why else would the Ministry have called him? For his expert de-gnoming skills?
"He might listen to you." The Minister insisted. "The aurors I'll be sending with you will neutralize him if it comes to that, but we're hoping that, with your assistance, it won't."
"You're damn straight it won't." Genji's eyes flashed green, leaving the Minister to wonder if he had merely imagined their pupils briefly becoming elongated and narrow. "My brother is not some dog to be put down." Working his fingers carefully through hair that was now bright and scarlet, he muttered almost to himself, "If things are as bad as you say, then something must be wrong."
Eyeing him carefully, the minister pushed his rectangular frames further up the bridge of his flat nose. "Are you implying that you were aware of the Shimada clan's illegal activities?"
Impossibly, Genji's scowl became even deeper and more pronounced. Sitting in front of him was a man who spent his days signing documents in an air-conditioned office, a man who'd come to them for help because he was so far out of his depth, and he would dare to try to turn this request for aid, which they desperately needed, into an interrogation? He wasn't a criminal, nor was he on trial, but if growing up with the clan had taught him anything, it was that none of that mattered. A Shimada was on trial since the day they born.
"Nope. He was implying no such thing, Mr. Minister. Sir." McCree was really laying on the southern charm on thick, yet Genji couldn't find it in him to care. He didn't even notice he'd been pulled out of his seat until a gentle pressure on his mid-back began shooing him out the door, and all the while Jesse never let up with his corny grin, "We're just as surprised as you, so why don't ya give us a day or two to sort out our thoughts on the matter and we'll get back to you."
By the time the Minister had gathered his wits enough to compose a rebuttal, McCree had already shepherded him out into the hallway and kicked the door closed with his heel.
The instant they were out of earshot, McCree found an empty cubicle and guided Genji into it. Then he took each of Genji's hands in his and said, slow and calm, "Alright, partner," the nails growing from Genji's fingertips had darkened to a midnight black, grown curled and hard. He watched without comment as McCree worked to pry their points from his palms before they could break skin, "now I'm gonna need you to take a deep breath for me." Huffing a laugh, he added, "Consider it payback for all those times you've nearly gotten my ears cursed off."
Though his anger at the impossible task that had been asked of him still crackled, Genji forced himself to take a breath. Immediately, a portion of the tightness within his chest began to ease, and the claws growing from his nailbeds retracted a fraction. "You heard what he said, Jesse. If I do what they ask and talk to my brother, they may well condemn us both."
"Alright, first off, they're not going to arrest you for what your family's done."
Raising a skeptical brow, Genji replied, "You don't really believe that, do you?"
And though McCree frowned at that, he made no attempt to defend the statement. Instead, he wrapped an arm around Genji's shoulders, nodded amicably at the office workers passing by with stacks of papers and phones pressed against their ears - if the new minister had done anything right during his term, it was systematically ending the stigma towards muggle technology in the wizarding world – and walked Genji to the exit, "Then let's not give them any more reasons not to like ya."
It came from the side of his mouth, completely undermining the cheery wave he aimed at the bureau as they made their way down the stone steps.
Once they'd successfully mingled with the crowd, though anonymity was hard to come by when one refused to leave the apartment without his Stetson and spurs, and the other couldn't keep his hair a consistent color for five minutes, Genji finally began to calm down. They walked in silence for a while without any destination in mind, while Jesse rambled about easy topics that danced around and flitted with the issues they would need to discuss without ever truly touching them, and for that, Genji was grateful. It gave him precious time to think. Eventually, he cut the cowboy off mid-sentence with,"Did I ever tell you why I wanted to become an animagus?"
And McCree shifted gears without missing a beat. After pausing to consider, he replied, "Can't say that ya have." His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "Guess I always assumed it was cuz your brother specifically told ya not to."
"Yeah- wait – No, that's…" Getting frustrated now that he couldn't seem to complete a sentence, Genji smoothed back his spikes, took a deep breath, and tried again, "Okay, maybe that was part of it, but the main reason was I wanted to be like him." A sad smile graced his features. "I looked up to him, you know?"
"Look, whatever's going on with your brother, I bet he misses you, too."
"He's the one who sent me away in the first place. And even if he is, somehow, miraculously happy to see me, how long is that going to last after he finds out that the only reason I'm contacting him after six years of radio silence is because the aurors want me to help them send him to Azkaban." The more worked up he got, the more sibilant his words became, with each being uttered with a pronounced hiss that made Jesse glance around nervously to make sure that no one had heard before he opened his mouth to protest.
Determined to get his point across, Genji overrode him. "Muggles have died, Jesse." And there it was, the ingrained understanding of a system that often prioritized placating the masses over protecting the innocent. "Someone's got to be punished for it."
McCree stared hard at him, scrutinizing him for any sign of doubt and finding none, only a steely resolve. Still, it never hurt to check. "And you're sure you want to do this? No one's making you go to Japan. The Shimada may be your family, and I'm saying that loosely, but they ain't your responsibility."
"He's my brother, Jesse." After laying a steady hand on the cowboy's sleeve, Genji looked up to meet his warm brown eyes, hoping that somehow his friend could see how serious he was about this, how important this was. "Right now, more than anything, he needs someone in his corner."
Almost imperceptibly, McCree nodded, then turned his head to stare into the distance with a tired sigh, "Welp, if that's the case, two is most certainly better than one." And when at last he looked back at his former classmate and friend, it was with a wide, roguish grin,"Guess we're going to Japan."
The call from the council for a meeting couldn't have come at a worst time. This actually had less to do with the timing and more to do with how Hanzo found all of them equally trying and dreaded each one no more or less than the next.
During and after every encounter with the Elders, he reminded himself that he was, in fact, the leader of the Shimada clan, which naturally meant that they, despite their condescending tones that made him feel so much like a child as he knelt before them, served him. They were his advisors and confidants, not his lords nor his masters.
And yet, staring up at the row of cold glass eyes looking down on him from their pedestals, he found that the reassurances grew weak and quiet in his mind. If he were truly their lord, if that were truly how they saw him, then he would not be kneeling before them, looking up.
Digging his fingers into the fabric of his hakama to keep them from curling into fists, Hanzo waited for the Elders to speak with a sinking heart. He was not disappointed. "Have you heard, young lord, that your brother is going to be paying us a visit?"
Hanzo's breath caught in his throat. He'd heard little of the outside world from the confines of his position, and certainly nothing from Genji. But that was what he'd wanted. He'd pushed Genji away to keep him from finding himself trapped in the clan's clutches, and yet he was coming back?
Why?
If the Elders somehow managed to trap him, to ensnare him in their games and machinations, then everything he'd done, everything he'd sacrificed, would be for naught.
"- anzo? Hanzo!" He snapped to attention, wary of the consequences that would ensure from briefly displaying vulnerability in this nest of vipers. "Are you aware that he is coming here at the behest of the Ministry? That aurors will be following in his wake?"
"Are you implying that my brother is a traitor?" He didn't need to ask, he just needed to buy time. Time to think. To plan. There had to be a way out of this. There was always a way, if you were cunning enough to find it.
One had to be a part of the clan to betray it, yet Hanzo had forced him to cut all ties with the family. Except he still bore their name, had even used it in his ridiculous phone book advertisement for the pest control service he'd started with his American friend from Hogwarts. Even if he were to mention Genji's exile, the Elders need only mention the name he still carried and his argument would be rendered inconsequential.
"What punishment awaits my brother when he arrives?" The silence that wrapped around and enveloped his question, as though every lung in the room had simultaneously frozen, was answer enough. He lifted his chin, strong, defiant. In this, he would not be cowed. "So be it, then. It is my wish that I bear it in his stead." And though he had phrased it as a request, the authority with which it was spoken made it clear that it was an order.
Slowly, an old man with his wrinkled and weathered visage concealed by shadow, lifted a wand from his podium with the tremulous grip of age. The others followed suit, and speaking as one, said, "Would you die for him, Hanzo Shimada?"
Their tips glowed green. Hanzo said nothing, merely curled his lips from his teeth to bare his sharpened canines in one last act of willful rebellion.
What he did not account for, however, was for the green to vanish, nor for the wands to emit a dull yellow fog that spewed forth and wrap its clinging tendrils around his mind.
Imperio.
It wasn't the reunion Genji had hoped to have with his brother.
They'd run into each other on the docks shortly after McCree had split from him to speed up their search. Immediately after spotting him, Hanzo had drawn his wand and aimed it at his chest, forcing Genji to draw his own.
They were locked in a stand-off, each of them circling the other while Genji tried to make sense of why his brother would arm himself against him, why he would remain so silent for so long when they hadn't seen each other for six long years.
Clearing his throat, Genji tried, "So… I guess I'm kind of acting as an honorary auror right now? Is that what this is about?" He waited, but Hanzo's blank expression betrayed nothing. Could Genji have been wrong? Could his brother have been aware of the dealings with muggles, after all? Only one way to find out.
Running his fingers anxiously through hair that couldn't decide on a color and so flickered through the entire spectrum, Genji raised up his hands placatingly, "Look, anija, the Ministry knows you're supplying dark wizards and muggles." Ah, now there was a flinch. "If I don't stop you, someone else will. And they'll kill you, Hanzo." The slight spark from before faded at the threat, forcing him to watch helplessly as he fell back into impassivity. The frustration alone made Genji want to scream. "Or they'll do worse. They'll lock you up in a place where you'll never see the sunlight and then throw away the key."
"Tell me, what is trading one cage for another?" It was said with a dissonance that unnerved Genji, a dreaminess that he'd never before witnessed in his brother. Hanzo blinked as though even he were surprised by the admission, and for a moment, the bluish film over his eyes faded, and Genji saw his gaze become momentarily focused, before they filled with a heartbroken anguish that shattered the man's artificial calm like glass. "Genji…?" He groaned, clutching his skull as he struggled to maintain lucidity. "You shouldn't be here."
Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.
"Hanzo, what's going on?" Genji watched with growing horror as the blankness from before threatened to overwhelm him once again. "You need to tell me what's wrong so I can help you!"
"Don't you see?" Goosebumps erupted over Genji's skin upon hearing the snarl ripping from Hanzo's chest as his nails began to lengthen and curl and azure scales erupted over his flesh. Sounding garbled now due to vocal cords that were quickly becoming unfit for human speech, Hanzo managed to growl, "It's too late for that."
This wasn't a voluntary transformation. Forcing an animagus to transform was considered exceptionally dangerous precisely because so much could go wrong without the mage's own will to guide it. Involuntary changes were known to be painful as well, since the body often resisted based on instinct. And for the first time, Genji fully realized what he was up against. This wasn't Hanzo he was fighting.
It was the Elders.
Even armed with the knowledge that his brother did not truly want to fight him, though, he had to admit that Hanzo's dragon form was much scarier than it used to be. Certainly, there was no stuffing him into bags and sneaking him out of dormitories, anymore. Not now that he was about the size of a mastiff.
"Hanzo?" Genji tried, unable to keep the tremor entirely from his voice as the dragon snarled at him, with fangs the size of his hand bared and drool dripping from its maw. His wand still gripped in his hand, Genji did his best to keep out of the confounded beast's striking range. Catching a glimpse of his own reflection, he noted with a small, bitter chuckle that his spell had chosen to dye his hair blue with fright. If he survived this, if they all did, the first thing Genji was going to do was remove that blasted charm from his head. And- Woah!
A sharp pivot was all that spared him when his brother tried to do the job for him by removing him of everything from the shoulders up. When the attack failed, Hanzo returned gracefully to the wooden planks, and began to pace, like a lion engaged in a game of attrition with its prey. Realizing he would die if he didn't at least try to defend himself, Genji waved his wand and cast, "Protego!"
The dragon crashed into the shield, snapping and clawing, so close that Genji could reach out and touch him if he were willing to lose a hand. Pearlescent tears rolled down his scaly cheeks, each of them falling without restraint from pupiless and dull golden eyes. Though the weight and power of his strikes pushed Genji to the edge of the dock, Hanzo disengaged with a whimper before either his concentration could break or, and this was only a slightly more appealing option, before he could be forced off the dock completely and made to continue this fight with his transformed brother while also struggling to stay afloat.
There were wooden columns spaced intermittently on the dock for the fishermen to tie their ropes around so that their boats didn't float out to sea. Hanzo stalked over to one, having seemingly forgotten Genji's presence, reeled back on his hind legs, and then slammed his head against the pole in what appeared to be an attempt to knock himself out. "Wait, stop!" Panicking, Genji canceled his shield spell. "Anija, you don't have to do this!" There was blood streaming over his scales from a split in his brow, yet he showed no signs of stopping.
Deciding it was time to do something very, very stupid, Genji positioned himself between his brother and the growing red stain on the column. Placing his hands on the dragon's shoulders, he said softly, "If I let you kill me, anija, will it ease your suffering? Will you finally be free?"
Instead of answering, the dragon transformed into a man with tears coursing down his hollow, sunken cheeks, and positioned his wand directly over Genji's heart.
With a small sigh, Genji reflected that he'd rather hoped his brother wouldn't kill him, but it would seem that no one was getting what they wanted today. As soon as Hanzo's lips parted to utter the words, his face twisted with unbridled anguish. Dredging up his most reassuring smile, Genji placed a gentle hand on his cheek and said, "Hey, don't worry about it, aniki. Just promise me that you will find freedom after I am gone. That is all I ask."
There was a sound like a heart breaking, and then, "Avada Kedavra."
A brilliant green light flared to life, casting a sickly glow over the waters, and fire danced over Genji's flesh as he experienced a pain like nothing he had every felt before. And then it was over. And he was still standing.
Pale scars crisscrossed over his knuckles and twisted up his arms. His hands flew to his face to feel skin that felt oddly fragile beneath his fingertips, and then he looked at Hanzo, a smile curling up the corners of his lips because that had been a death curse, that had been the worst of the lot, and he was still alive.
And there was no film in Hanzo's eyes anymore, no dreamy distance to his gaze. Genji reached out to him, jubilant, only to frown in confusion when Hanzo maintained the distance between them by taking a step back, then increased it by taking another. "Anija? What are you-"
All at once, scales erupted over Hanzo's terrified features and claws burst from his fingertips. It wasn't long before Genji was staring once more at a dragon, though it was lacking any of the aggression from before, and instead seemed afraid. With pointed ears pressed against his skull and a tail that dragged against the planks as he walked, Hanzo slowly trotted away then, when Genji attempted to call him back, he sprinted off the docks and followed the shoreline before disappearing into the forest. Not once did he turn back.
When Genji made to follow him, however, a sudden sensation of vertigo robbed the strength from his legs. After he crashed like a toppled pillar onto the rickety blanks, the last thing he saw before consciousness fled was a flash of blue among the trees.
"You know, I've heard that chicks dig scars, and believe me I can see the appeal, but don't you think this is a little extreme?" Feeling like he was waking up from the world's worst hangover, Genji cracked open his eyes to warm brown eyes and groaned. "Not everyone can take a hit of dark magic like that and live to tell the tale," McCree continued, gauging his reaction. "You sure are one lucky son of a gun, Shimada."
Except that wasn't true. Hanzo had never wanted him dead. He'd never wanted to hurt him. And now if Genji didn't do something, he would be hunted for it. By both the Shimada clan and the aurors.
After struggling to find his feet, Genji used his wand to cut a small incision on the palm of his hand - McCree stood up in alarm, "What do you think you're doing?!" - and allowed the blood to pour over the dock until he was satisfied.
Once he'd finished cauterizing the wound and wrapping it with a torn off piece of his shirt, Genji replied, "Letting them think we killed each other." He gestured for McCree to get behind him, which the cowboy wasted no time in doing, then cast a blasting curse on the dock, sending up pieces of burning, blackened wood and an explosion of steam into the air. As they walked off the dock and onto the beach once more, Genji flashed McCree a fanged smile. "Come on," vibrant green scales dusted his cheekbones as he broke into a run, "let's go catch us a dragon."