I thought it would be fitting to come out with another chapter today, since the last Demon Slayer episode of the new season also aired this week. How sad! Anyways, please enjoy this new chapter! I know it has a lot of filler in it but I had to write something. Happy 4th of July y'all! πΊπΈπΊπΈπΊπΈπππ
Harry's POV
After his Headmaster was informed of this matter, it was time to talk to Master Ubuyashiki, who was just as important a figure in Harry's life as the Headmaster due to the nature of his job.
"Remember," Harry was reminding Crouch-San of proper etiquette, "you have to kneel once you meet him, and don't rise until the meeting is over and we're dismissed. And don't address him first until he speaks to you."
Crouch-San grumbled at the rules, but he mostly put up with it out of fear of the Demon Slayers (mostly Kakushi) giving him the side-eye as the pair were taken to the Master. He certainly didn't like being carried on their backs the whole way, blindfolded as it was, but there was nothing he could do about it, unless he wanted to start an incident.
Once they were finally at the Ubuyashiki estate, Harry raised a brow as he sensed the man's... sense of underwhelm when he saw it.
"Problem?" he asked.
Crouch-San grumbled.
"This headquarters seems rather drab, especially compared to the glorious Ministry."
Harry shook his head at the man's lack of foresight.
"Right. And we should have a giant building, perhaps a castle, that announces our presence to all within a hundred miles, yes?"
Thankfully, the arrival of another Kakushi ceased the discussion before it could continue. Once they were led inside, Harry immediately knelt, gesturing for Crouch-san to do the same. Crouch-San obeyed with some grumbling about the state of his robes, but thankfully (for Harry's sanity) fell silent when the door opened.
A young man a few years older than Harry entered the room, escorted by his wife. He smiled at the sight of Harry, although his heart clenched when he noticed that one eye was a pale color, indicating an increased lack of sight. The sickness had spread. The man smiled as he was helped into a seiza position.
"It is good to see you, Harry-San, my child. Something has happened, yes?"
Harry nodded, knowing the man's unique foresight ability would have told him as much.
"Yes, Master. It seems that my former name was placed into a magical Goblet of Fire. Although my name has been changed, I am still bound by the contract. The short version is that I will die if I do not compete in a dangerous tournament. I have brought Crouch-San here so that we can have a discussion of any days I will need to be in England for the tournament. If that is agreeable to you, of course, Master."
The Master smiled serenely.
"Of course, child. I value all of you, and would not prevent you from taking part in the tournament if it means your life is at stake. May I ask of the days and duties required of you?"
It was at this point that Crouch-San filled in the missing pieces for the Master. He had thankfully remained polite in his words, although Harry didn't miss the disdainful look at the sight of the Master's disease.
Once everything was settled, they traveled back to Mahoutokoro, where Harry resumed his classes and Demon Slaying. Meanwhile, a harried Crouch returns to the Ministry, muttering angrily about the "poor, pathetic invalids" and "beasts, no sense of decorum" that supposedly inhabited Japan and controlled such an important figure among the Britain magical population.
A few weeks later, Harry was summoned. Not for the first task, but for a "private" meeting with the Hogwarts Headmaster to discuss "certain matters pertaining to the tournament." As it so happened, Harry was forced to go alone as his own Headmaster was busy. Harry had a feeling it was by design on Dumbledore's part. Despite the risks, Harry went. He was quite curious to see what the man wanted to say to him, despite how Harry clearly had no interest in establishing any sort of rapport with him.
Once Harry arrived, the man himself greeted him at the gate. Harry raised a brow as they walked through the empty corridors. The students must be in class. Harry was supposed to be in class, but he had taken the day off as the summons was supposed to pertain to the tournament. Given that Harry did not live in Hogwarts like the rest of the competitors, this seemingly put him at a slight disadvantage.
Of course, Harry did not trust his motives. He knew better that the man wanted something more with him, most likely due to his ridiculous status as the "Boy-Who-Lived." Harry was feeling more like the "Boy-Who-Was-Livid" than anything else. He wished this stupid man would leave him alone.
Finally, they reached the man's office, after traveling through what seemed like the whole castle, the man insisting on stopping at random places, like the Gryffindor common room, the Great Hall, the Quittich fields, until Harry was quite annoyed. Once Harry was finally able to sit down, the Headmaster offered him a seat, robes sweeping as he gestured towards his desk.
"Have a lemon drop as well, Harry," he offered with a twinkle in his eye.
Harry was immediately put off by the offer, and made no move towards the bowl, choosing instead to redirect the conversation.
"May I ask what tournament business you needed to discuss with me?"
He was hardly surprised when Dumbledore simply waved a hand, a grandfatherly smile on his face. The smile only served to make shivers run down Harry's spine. It reminded him of what he felt when he saw a Demon that had someone in its trap. It would do well for him to be wary.
"There's time for that later. But Harry, my boy, there are things you must be told. Things I'm sure the Japanese, as eager as I'm sure they must have been to keep you, have hidden from you."
Harry raised a brow.
"Is that so?"
The creepy grandfatherly smile still on his face, Dumbledore made a grand expression with his hands.
"Yes, my boy. You see, when you were but an infant, you defeated the most powerful Dark Wizard since Grindelwald, Lord Voldemort. This event is quite remarkable given that your lovely parents, dear friends of mine, met their end at his hand."
Harry was tempted to zone out as the man recounted his own history to him, most of which he already knew. However, he knew that Dumbledore might unknowingly provide some vital information, so he listened to the man prattle.
The man also insisted on telling a great many stories about his parents. Harry didn't understand that. Sure he was sad that they died, given that they seemed to have loved him enough to die for him, but Harry himself didn't know them. Why should be uproot his life (Dumbledore seemed to be implying that he should transfer to Hogwarts) when he was perfectly happy where he was?
Harry thought that his parents would care more about his safety than making sure he went to the same magical school they went to. Sure, with his job, he wasn't exactly safe all the time, but that was his own choice to risk his life. He certainly didn't want to be here, where everyone seemed to worship the very ground he walked on, while simultaneously expecting him to solve all their problems.
"... so I hope you see, now, Harry, why coming to Hogwarts is better for your safety. It's also what your parents desperately wished. I hope you'll honor their wish?" The man gave him the same grandfatherly smile.
Harry wanted to punch him, but that would not be conducive to the magical relations between Britain and Japan. Instead, he used his words to tear Dumbledore's argument apart.
"You said that when my parents died, I was sent to my relatives for my safety, because my mother's sacrifice created a blood ward, correct?"
Harry wanted to make sure he had the man's version of events straight at least.
Dumbledore nodded.
"Yes. It created such a powerful spell that Lord Voldemort couldn't touch you. This ward, however, must be maintained by continued exposure to someone of you're mother's blood. Namely, her sister. As your magical guardian, I placed you with her for your safety, and was quite alarmed when it appeared that you seemed to have left them. It's quite a miracle that you survived as long as you have away from the wards. I hope you understand that you must be placed with them again as soon as possible in order to keep the wards intact."
By this point, Harry already knew that he was sprouting nonsense. He had studied blood wards at Mahoutokoro, and knew which ones the man was talking about. He also knew that these only held if the resident called that place home. They should have collapsed the moment Harry left with Shinjuro-San and Tengen-San. He tilted his head as he replied.
"How have the wards not collapsed yet? Wouldn't they have collapsed once I was adopted and chose to stay in Japan?"
Harry wanted to scream as Dumbledore appeared to ignore him and continue to impress upon him that he must return to his relatives' house. Harry posed another question.
"If you're my magical guardian, why didn't you take me? Wasn't Voldemort afraid of you?"
Harry's answer to this was more excuses. Apparently, the power of his mother's love was stronger than anything he could have come up with. Apparently, he was so busy running a school he couldn't raise a child. Apparently, the Wizarding world would have claimed that he was trying to "unjustly influence" Harry if he took him in.
To Harry, it sounded like a bunch of nonsense. If he really cared about Harry, he would have figured something out and not cared about his public image. Harry wondered why his parents made this manhis magical guardian when he apparently couldn't care for him in the event something happened to them. He thought about looking into it later.
Finally, after an age, during which the tournament was hardly even mentioned (and Harry was wondering how to get him in trouble for being alone for this long with a minor), a chime interrupted Dumbledore's latest spiel about why he should come to Hogwarts.
The man paused, turning to the door with a smile on his face.
"Enter, Severus."
As summoned, a man entered the room. He must have been a teacher, Harry thought. He was tall and thin, with chin-length black hair, pale skin, and black robes. Harry nearly recoiled at his aura. There was darkness, yes, but also a twisted sort of grief, self-hatred, and resignation. There was also a weird feeling about him that Harry couldn't decipher. Harry decided that he was probably not a bad man, but was certainly not a kind man either. He gave Harry a strange glance before turning to the Headmaster.
"Potter's... Professor is here to pick him up."
Before Harry could protest that his surname was Rengoku, thank you very much, Dumbledore clapped his hands.
"Perfect! Harry, my boy, I hope you'll think about what I said, and consider returning to the school of your parents. Now, Severus, would you please escort Harry back to the front gate? I'm afraid something urgent has come up," Dumbledore dismissed them with a smile.
Yeah, no. Definitely not. He was never going to school here. But Harry wasn't going to let the old coot know that.
It was a relief to finally exit the stuffy office and enter the stone halls. Harry was also glad to be away from that man, even if his present company wasn't exactly... friendly. So far, the Professor had said nothing to him, just kept giving him strange looks. Harry was about to burst with some sort of... something, when the Professor broke his silence.
"You are... not what I expected."
Harry raised a brow, incredulous.
"Oh? And what were you expecting, Professor?"
The man sighed.
"Perhaps... someone more arrogant. I would say that you are confident, but as for arrogance... it puzzles me that you would not jump at the chance to return here, where you would met with fame and people worshipping the very ground you walk on. From what I've heard, however, you did not..."
Harry snorted.
"Fame is overrated. I would very much like to be able to mind my own business without people watching my every move. And, from what I've heard, my mother deserves the credit for my survival, given that it was her sacrifice that made it so. Plus, I'm only famous because my parents are dead and I'm not. That's not exactly a good thing to be famous for.
"Not only that, but the British Wizards seem to expect me to be able to defeat this Dark Lord when there's also Albus Dumbledore who Voldemort is allegedly afraid of, along with an entire force of Aurors, to fight him. Why they expect me to do so when I've hardly had the training of an Auror is beyond me- unless they expect me to die. So no, I don't really care for my fame much."
Thankfully, that got the Professor to shut up for a few minutes, before he seemed to come to a decision and sighed, opening his mouth again.
"Glad to see that you have more of your mother in you, Potter..."
Harry shook his head.
"First, it's Rengoku. I was adopted. Secondly, I am my own person. My parents died when I was a baby with no opportunity to influence me. Who I am is because of my own experiences, not because of my parents."
That statement caused a thoughtful look to appear on his face, before he changed the subject, asking about his Wind Breathing he'd used when he was first summoned to Hogwarts. He wanted to know what sort of spell it was. Harry explained Breathing Techniques and Demons to him, although he didn't go into too much detail about his own life, just in case...
All in all, he could tell that the man, Professor Severus Snape, was at least thoughtful about their conversation, and less willing to assume things about him. Once the man got past his own biases, he was able to ask questions with the intent to genuinely learn about him, not just to belittle him.
He'd also explained that he was once his mother's best friend, although they'd had a falling out a few years before she died. He was driven to protect Harry both as penance for not being able to save her and a care for her. Harry advised him to do so as a care for how Harry himself was, not because of any perceived duty.
All in all, the conversation with Severus Snape was far more productive than that with Albus Dumbledore. While Dumbledore used every opportunity to try and convince Harry to return to the Dursleys and Hogwarts, Professor Snape was learning to see Harry as his own person, not an echo of his parents. It was progress.
Once he returned to Japan, Harry put the encounters out of his mind. Sunset was approaching, and it was time to get ready to go Demon Slaying.
Far away, in a secret place, a pair of red eyes; split by ominous slits, opened as his most trusted servant relayed much-needed news to him. An evil voice laughed. It wouldn't be long before his plans came to fruition.
Hello there! I'm sorry this is so short. I wanted to post something but didn't have the motivation to write a super long chapter. I hope y'all enjoy this, and Happy 4th of July! πΊπΈπΊπΈπΊπΈπππ
β€οΈDaughter of Haltβ€οΈ
