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Chapter Text

Third Person's POV
It was the summer of the year 1986. In a little town called Surrey, England, a family was bustling about, trying to get everything together for a vacation.
A portly man was heaving large bags into a silver suv.
A woman with a horse-like face was scolding a tiny, green-eyed child in oversized clothes, as he struggled to pack a pile of clothes.
"Mooooooom!" a child's voice cried out in the middle of the chaos.
He was standing at the door of his room, a pout on his face.
"I can't find my favorite race car!!!"
The woman appeared at the bottom of the stairs, a look of sympathy on her face.
"I already packed it, sweetums. It's down here, in your suitcase."
This did not please the child, who was as short-tempered (and portly) as his father.
"Get it out!! I want it right now!!!!" He stomped his feet.
The woman sighed.
"I can't, Dudley. It has to stay in the suitcase, or else we won't be able to bring it."
The child, Dudley, was slightly appeased with this information, although he still stomped his feet loudly as he disappeared back into his bedroom.
The woman turned back to the small child still at her side.
"Well? What are you waiting for? Get these clothes packed up, now!"
"Yes Aunt Petunia," the child replied softly, his head bowed.
The woman, Petunia, scoffed and walked away.
The small child turned back to his task, struggling to fold the heavy clothes with his small hands and weak arms.
Just as the child was zipping up the case, the door was slammed open.
A portly man stomped inside, beady eyes immediately finding the child.
"Well, boy?! Are you done packing up that bag?!"
"Y-yes, Uncle Vernon," the child whispered.
The man, Vernon, looked at the child with a judgmental stare.
His hand came up, and he slapped the child.
"Do it faster next time, Freak!"
He grabbed the newly-packed case and stomped back outside.
Before the child could move, Petunia had returned to the room.
"Go put these clothes on. We don't want anyone else knowing what a freak you are."
She threw a change of clothes at him.
The child immediately went to obey, crawling in his small cupboard under the stairs for privacy.
The clothes, although they hung off him, showing off his skinny form, had no holes and only a couple of stains. They were the nicest clothes he had ever worn. He quickly put them on, feeling grateful.
When he was done, Petunia ordered him to go to the car with Dudley.
Before the small child could get into the car, he was slammed into the door by Vernon.
"Now, listen here boy. I earned this trip. You are only coming along because we can't find anyone who will keep an eye on you. If you screw up, even one time, you will be severely punished, understand?"
"Y-y-yes Uncle Vernon. I u-understand," the boy stuttered.
"Don't bother with Harry, Vernon. We don't want to be late for our flight. Besides, he knows what will happen if he misbehaves." Petunia spoke up.
Vernon huffed, then shoved the small child, Harry, and got into the car.
At the airport, the three bags were quickly checked (none of them were for Harry, of course), and the family plus Harry made their way to their airport gate.
Harry's POV
The flight was long. I thought it would never end. It felt like it had been days when we finally landed in Tokyo, I think it was called.
After we left the plane, we drove a car to a hotel.
I was excited. I had never stayed in a hotel before.
Uncle Vernon had apparently rented a "two-bedroom suite," whatever that was. There were two bedrooms. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia slept in one, and Dudley got the other.
I slept on the couch in the living room. I didn't mind. It was the nicest place I had ever slept on.
In the morning, Uncle Vernon ordered breakfast. I didn't have to cook anything! It was nice.
The people who brought our food were nice too. They smiled at me, and then patted my hair when I smiled back. They didn't yell at me once!
I love this place.
The nice lady at the front desk said that the Dursleys were not allowed to leave me in the hotel room, so they had to take me along.
We toured many cool places, and ate strange food.
I was even allowed to eat the cheapest thing on the menu wherever we ate! It was hard, though, as I hadn't eaten this much food before. I usually only ate one meal a day at the most.
The next day, the Dursleys decided to walk around the town.
As we walked, Dudley suddenly grabbed Petunia's dress.
"Mom, who are those people?"
A stubby finger pointed to two men. One of them had two large cleavers on his back and silvery hair, while the other had hair like fire.
"Those are freaks, Dudley. Just like Harry."
Aunt Petunia grabbed Dudley by the hand and began to hastily guide him away from them, Uncle Vernon following her.
As I turned to follow, I thought I saw the man with the fiery hair look at me.
But that couldn't be. Nobody would willingly look at a freak.
But, Aunt Petunia had called them freaks too.
Could it be that they were like me...?

I hope y'all enjoy this chapter!
❤️Soundwave's Wife❤️

Chapter Text

Harry's POV
I didn't know if it was a coincidence or not, but we started seeing those same two freaks seemingly everywhere. The fiery-haired freak was often seen haunting the Udon diners, and the silvery-haired freak was usually strolling by the fancier shops.

And they always seemed to be watching me.

I wish I knew why.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon definitely noticed the scrutiny, although they never confronted the freaks. They simply ushered Dudley away from them.
I followed on my own.
This pattern continued for a week.
On the seventh day, the silver-haired freak seemed to be following us in a more subtle manner.
This caused Uncle Vernon, who did not see him, to be even harsher with me. He was already angry with me for attracting the attention of the other freaks, but he seemed to be angry for a different reason today.
It didn't matter.
Whatever his reason was, it was my fault.

Everything was my fault.

Uncle Vernon raised his hand to punish me, for once not caring about the people around him.
It all seemed to happen in slow motion.
I squeezed my eyes shut as the hand came down towards my face.
But the blow never came.
"You know, it is most unflamboyant to hit a child," a cheerful voice spoke, causing me to open my eyes.
It was the freak with the silvery hair. He had Uncle Vernon's wrist in a tight grip. He was struggling, but the freak restrained him with ease.
Although the freak's expression was friendly, I could see the anger in his eyes.
I swallowed hard.
"This child is a freak and a troublemaker!" Uncle Vernon snapped. "He deserves to be given a firm hand every once in awhile!"
The freak's eyes narrowed, the only change to his friendly expression.
"Please understand, I have been following you all for some time. I have seen what you have been doing to this young boy. What I saw is not giving a child "a firm hand." It's abuse."
I could see that Uncle Vernon was growing frightened. His wrist was still held captive, and the freak treated his resistance like one might treat an annoying fly.
"Still, the boy's a freak! Abnormal! He doesn't deserve to be treated like a human because he isn't one!"
For a moment, as the other freak paused to consider his words, I felt my heart skip a beat.
Would he believe Uncle Vernon?
Then, the freak smiled.
"I see no reason to believe that the boy is a Demon, which is what you seem to be implying. First of all, he can walk in the sunlight. Second, he doesn't have fangs or claws. Also, if he was a Demon, he would have eaten you by now. This boy seems just as human as the one hiding behind his mother."
This proclamation was followed by silence.
Nobody had ever made a rebuttal to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's declarations that I was a freak.
For a moment, I dared to hope.
Perhaps this strange freak was right...?
But no, I shook my head, remembering all of the strange occurrences that happened to me. I might not have fangs and claws, but I am still an abnormal freak.
I did my best to hold back tears.
"I think that's enough, Tengen," a new voice appeared.
I jumped, looking behind me.
It was the other freak, the one with hair like fire.
How did I not hear him coming?
I had trained myself to hear footsteps. The skill had saved me a small number of beatings.
This man's footsteps were completely silent.
Plus, most people were avoiding this section of the street because of the scene Uncle Vernon was causing.
His presence should have been obvious to any of us.
"Now that we have clear evidence that this child is being abused, let's get to business."
He knelt in front of me. His bearing was strong, but gentle.
"What is your name, child?" he asked me gently.
I hesitated.
What should I do?
"M-my name is H-Harry," I answered timidly.
The freak smiled.
"It's nice to meet you, Harry. My name is Shinjuro Rengoku. This is my colleague, Tengen Uzui. We have both noticed through observation that you are being abused. Would you like to come with us? There are many people, myself included, who are willing to take you in."
He reached his hand out to me.
I blinked, hardly believing my ears.
Was someone actually offering to take care of me?
It wasn't possible.
It couldn't be.
But I wanted to go so badly...
I considered my options. If I stayed with the Dudley's, I would certainly be starved and beaten. But, if I went with these people, who knows what they would do to me?
Uncle Vernon was always telling me about old creeps who stole freaks like me off the streets to use as slaves. He said that I was lucky they hadn't given me to one.
It was, after all, what I deserved.
I was an abnormal freak.
But, I thought, so are these two.
Reaching out, I took his hand, changing the course of my life forever.
For better or worse, it remained to be seen.

Far away in Britain, two things happened at once. In a little house in Surrey, a construction of already weak blood wards collapsed.
In a majestic castle in Scotland, an elderly man was desperately trying to figure out why the sensors informing him of the state of the blood wards at Harry Potter's house were going off, indicating that the wards had fallen.

This could have two possible interpretations: Harry Potter no longer considered the house to be home, or Harry Potter was dead.
Either option was equally unlikely.
He had instructed in his letter that Petunia only push the boy enough to break his spirit, not completely alienate him.
And there was no way any Death Eaters could infiltrate the house while the wards were active.
The man immediately apparated to Surrey.

Something must have gone terribly wrong...

Chapter Text

Harry's POV
The Dursleys were not unhappy to see Harry go.
Although he did hear Dudley complain to his parents about losing his favorite punching bag.
Aunt Petunia had her nose turned up in the air. She wouldn't even look at him.
Uncle Vernon was too busy glaring at the other freaks to pay attention to him, for once.
Harry ignored them all, enraptured by the strange freaks.
"Come! We must take you to meet the Master!" Mr. Rengoku stated cheerfully.
They began leading him away, paying no more mind to the Dursleys.
As they walked, the freaks talked to him a lot, asking so many questions.
Harry didn't know how to answer most of them.
How could he know what his favorite movie was if he hadn't seen one before?
But, he did his best, not wanting to disappoint the freaks.
They also explained who they were and what they did. Harry couldn't believe it at first. Demons exist? And people hunt them? He didn't know what to think of this information.
They also told him about the Master, the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps. He was the one who would decide Harry's fate.
He swallowed nervously at the thought. Despite the fact that the freaks praised the Master highly, the boy was skeptical as to his character. Nobody could actually be that kind, right?
Especially to a freak...
When they finally stopped in a small, nondescript town, Mr. Rengoku knelt in front of him again.
"I'm afraid I must warn you of this part of the journey. You see, the Master's location must be protected at all costs. This means that no one, except for the Hashira (and even then to a limited degree), know where his home is. This means that we will be blindfolded and carried on the back of a Kakushi. This is a routine measure that must be performed by everyone who wishes to meet with the Master, and is by no means a punishment. Am I understood?"
Harry took a moment to process the information. Considering what he had learned about the Demons, in particular their leader, he could understand the precautions.
He nodded firmly in understanding.
Mr. Rengoku smiled.
"Perfect! Let's get going."
The journey to the Master's house went better than he thought it would. Most of the Kakushi were very friendly, although Harry didn't like or understand it when they patted his hair or pinched his cheeks, calling him "cute."

He didn't know why they would think he was "cute."

However, there was one definite positive to the whole experience; there was almost no way that this situation was a set-up. Harry could tell that every Kakushi who carried him was different, and they switched dozens of times. There's no way that anyone would set up anything as elaborate as this just to trick him.

His trust in Mr. Rengoku and Mr. Tengen began to increase.

It took them a full day to reach the Master's house. By then, of course, Harry was so tired that he could barely keep my yawns in. He didn't dare let them out for fear of inconveniencing Mr. Rengoku and Mr. Tengen.
Despite the boy's best efforts, however, they noticed.
"The little tyke looks exhausted. No wonder. It's been a long day.Rengoku, why don't you take him to your place for tonight? I'm sure your wife and kids would love to dote on him!" Mr. Tengen suggested.
"That sounds like an amazing idea! I know they'd love him! What do you say, kid?"
Their eyes were suddenly on him, causing him to freeze.
"I-I" he stuttered, still not used to the attention.
Mr. Tengen just chuckled and said,
"It's not a pop quiz, kiddo. You can calm down. It's alright if you want to go with Rengoku. You'll have more fun at my house, though! I've got three wives." He winked at him.
Harry looked back and forth between them, not knowing who to choose. Whoever he didn't choose would probably get angry.
What do I do? What do I do?
Seeing his panic, Mr Tengen chuckled.

"It's alright if he goes with you, Rengoku. You've got kids his age, after all. It will be good for him to hang out with them."

Mr. Rengoku chuckled kindly and nodded.

"Very well! And Ruka will love doting on him, too! Come on, Harry!"

Before Harry could say anything, Mr. Tengen had vanished, and Mr. Rengoku was leading the boy to a nearby village. The man began chatting about his family.

"I have two boys about your age, Kyojuro and Senjuro! They are good boys. I'm sure you'll get along just fine!"

Harry was nervous. None of the boys his age ever liked him. They usually followed Dudley's lead and hurt him. How would these boys be any different? They'd see what a freak he was as soon as they saw him and make fun of him for it.

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts as they arrived at a quaint house. Mr. Rengoku opened the door,, calling out.

"My dears!" he boomed. "I have returned! And I have a guest!"

Immediately, a few pairs of footsteps were heard. Two young boys appeared, bounding around the corner.

"Father!" the older one cried out happily. "You're back!"

The man chuckled happily as he scooped the boys into his arms.
"It's good to see you, my boys! Where is your mother?"

The younger of the two started pulling at Mr. Rengoku's hair as the older one answered.

"She went to the market to buy supplies for dinner. She'll be back soon!"

This was when the boys suddenly noticed me. I had not moved an inch since they had appeared. The older one jumped out of his father's arms and proceeded to bow, of all things.

"I apologize for my rudeness! I am Kyojuro Rengoku! It is a pleasure to meet you!" the boy exclaimed loudly.

Harry hesitantly bowed back.

"M-my name is Harry.."

"Harry will be staying with us for some time," Mr. Rengoku interrupted. "So make sure you boys be nice and welcome him properly, alright?"

Kyojuro and the other boy nodded vigorously.

Kyojuro gestured to the other boy who was clearly his brother.

"This is my younger brother, Senjuro! He's a bit shy, sorry about that." he chuckled sheepishly.

Harry assured him that it was alright.

Mr. Rengoku's hand came down on Kyojuro's shoulder. "Why don't you and Senjuro show him where the guest room is? I'm afraid I need to write to the Master about an important matter."

Kyojuro immediately straightened. "Of course, Father! Come on, Harry! The guest room is this way!"

Harry wordlessly followed, unsure of what else to do. The two boys had been nice so far, but he knew that could change at the drop of a hat. Nobody would ever be that nice to a freak like him, right...?

Kyojuro pulled open a door in the hallway, oblivious to the internal struggle of the boy behind him.

"Ah, here we are! This will be your room for as long as you need!"

Harry blinked in shock. The room was simple, with few, but tasteful decorations and a single... (futon...? Isn't that what they called them...?) on the floor. Through a slightly open door, he could see a bathroom. It was the biggest room he had ever seen, much less stayed in. He blinked again.

"Is this... all for me?" he asked in a daze. Surely this was some kind of trick.

Kyojuro's smile turned soft. "Of course! You are our guest! This room will be yours for as long as you are under our roof!"

Harry turned back to him and bowed lowly.

"I... thank you."

Kyojuro just laughed.

"Think nothing of it! Now come on, would you like to train with Senjuro and me?"

Harry tiled his head.

"Train? For what?"

Kyojuro chuckled.

"I am training to be a Demon Slayer! I'll become a Hashira, just like my father!"

Harry jumped as his heard a chuckle come from behind him.

"Maybe one day, my son." It was Mr. Rengoku. He was back from wherever he had been.

Then he noticed that Mr. Rengoku wasn't alone. A beautiful woman with black hair and kind red eyes was behind him. Mr. Rengoku gestured to her.

"Harry, meet my wife, Ruka. Ruka, this is Harry. He'll be staying with us for now."

The woman smiled at Harry as he stared at her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"It's nice to meet you, Harry. I hope you will get along well with my boys."

Harry was too struck by her kindness to speak, but nobody seemed to mind.

"Kyojuro, why don't you help your mother with dinner."

Harry immediately spoke up.

"I can help with dinner too! I'm used to cooking for the Dursleys after all..."

In his effort to be useful, Harry didn't notice the slight twitch in Ruka's brow, or how Mr. Renogku's mouth tightened ever so slightly.

"That's alright, Harry," Ruka spoke up. "You're our guest. It would make us bad hosts if we had you help with the cooking, no matter how used to it you may be."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Mr. Rengoku jumped in first.

"Senjuro, why don't you go play with Harry while your brother helps with dinner?"

The two boys chorused their affirmative replies. Kyojuro left with his mother after giving me a kind smile and wave. Senjuro, who had said very little this entire time, grabbed my hand.

"C'mon," he said softly. "Let's go play with some toys."

Harry sighed as he gave in, unable to think of any more protests. He decided that he would clean the kitchen later to make up for it.

Harry and Senjuro ended up playing with a handful of toy soldiers. Dudley would have been aghast at how few toys there were, but for Harry this was the most fun playing he'd ever had. Senjuro turned out to be a fun person to play with, once he stopped being quite so shy. He'd even given Harry three toy soldiers of his very own once Harry let slip that he didn't have any toys of his own. There were five toy soldiers in total. This action confused Harry for the longest time. Why would you give away most of your toys?

After awhile, a still-energetic Kyojuro appeared at the door, declaring that dinner was ready. Senjuro quickly rose, pulling Harry along with him. It was so strange not having to cook...

Senjuro pulled Harry to sit between himself and Kyojuro as Ruka and Mr. Rengoku started passing around the food and plates. It sure would be nice to not eat the leftovers for once...

That evening, Harry had the best dinner he'd ever had. Not just because of the food, but because of the company. The Rengoku family never once made him feel out of place. It felt like he had a home for the first time.

Is this what it felt like for everyday families?

For children like Dudley?

Was this what it felt like to be loved...?

That night Harry went to sleep in a soft bed for the first time in his life.

Chapter Text

Harry's POV
Harry felt unusually comfortable as he slowly awoke the next morning. He snuggled under the soft blanket, wishing he had five more minutes before he needed to make breakfast. Suddenly, he shot up, breathing heavily. He looked down at his soft comforter in horror.

The Dursleys were going to kill him.

What was he thinking, lazing around in a soft bed like this?

Harry suddenly found that he couldn't breathe. He gasped, shaking as he clustered his chest with trembling hands. He didn't notice when the shoji doors slid open, and near-silent footsteps approached him. He did notice when he was suddenly grabbed, but he was so petrified that he couldn't do anything.

I knew it was too good to be true, the boy thought. I knew no one would really want me.

He was too out of it to notice that the hands holding him were strong, but gentle and kind. Not harsh and bruising like his Uncle Vernon. He also failed to hear the kind but concerned voice speaking to him, trying to calm him down.

When Harry finally gained some coherency, he was horrified to find himself cuddled up to Mr. Rengoku's chest. The man was holding him gently, running his fingers through his hair as he spoke softly to the frightened boy.
Harry was so mortified that he didn't register what the man was saying to him. All he knew was that he was way too close. There's no way a freak like Harry should be embraced like Mr. Rengoku would his own children.

It didn't help that he likely woke the man up with his temper tantrum.

Harry didn't dare move as Mr. Rengoku gently pulled back, looking into his green eyes. However, instead of looking frustrated and annoyed, he looked concerned and a little relieved.
"Glad to see you back with us, young one. You haven't been responsive for some time," the man greeted him.
Harry fidgeted, not knowing what to say.
How was he supposed to apologize for this grievous error?
Thankfully, Mr. Rengoku didn't seem to mind his silence. Instead he asked, "Are you alright?"
Harry was struck speechless again. He had just woken the man up, taken up the man's time with his tantrum, and now he was asking if he was alright?

Harry was confused.

He somehow found the strength to nod his head.
Mr. Rengoku smiled at him.
"That's good! You had me worried there for a second. Now, let's get you dressed! Kyojuro has some old yukatas that he doesn't wear anymore, so you can borrow one until you get your own."
Harry could only nod as he was stunned into silence for the third time.
Get his own? His own clothes? They were going to spend money on him?
But no, of course not. They probably expected him to work and earn his keep before they even thought about spending their hard-earned money on him.
From what he knew of the Demon Slayer Corps, the lives they led were not forgiving. There's no way they would give up the money they literally paid for in blood for a freak like Harry.
The boy mentally chastised himself for thinking that they would do that for him, and put those thoughts out of his head in time for him to get dressed.
He didn't want Mr. Rengoku to see his scars, so he asked to change by himself. Thankfully, Mr. Rengoku didn't pry and let him be.
Once that was done, the pair met the rest of the family in the dining room. Again, no one ever said anything to Harry about cooking or cleaning beyond a small amount.

As they ate, Mr. Rengoku looked at Harry.

"Once we're done here, we're going to meet the Master. Given that the Corps is unrecognized by the government, the Master is our usual liaison for legal matters. This meeting is, for the most part, a formality. The Master will make sure that whatever family you end up will treat you well. Don't worry. This happens all the time. Us Hashira often find orphaned kids who's parents were killed by Demons. We've yet to have trouble finding them a good home."
His words were likely meant to be reassuring, but they twisted the boy's stomach.

"Does this mean that he's gonna just give me up..?"

Harry was taken out of my thoughts as the man continued speaking.
"It's also not uncommon for the kids to stay with the families of those who found them. Some become Slayers themselves, and others try to pick up the pieces of their old lives."

"So there is a chance I'll stay here? What is he saying?"

The rest of the meal was spent in chatter about various topics. Harry didn't contribute much, having little knowledge of the goings-on of the village, and also feeling nervous about meeting the Master.

After breakfast was eaten and cleaned up, Mr. Rengoku said goodbye to his family, and we left. After we left the village, we had to find the Kakushi who would take us to the Master's Mansion.
Before long, we were deposited on the steps of a beautiful house.
"Follow my lead, and be respectful," Mr. Rengoku whispered to Harry.
He nodded.
They entered a room lit by a single lantern. Mr. Rengoku knelt on his knees, sitting on his ankles. Harry followed suit.
When a young man with shoulder-length black hair and kind, purple eyes entered the room, Mr. Rengoku bowed his head and greeted him, with Harry copying his every move and word.
The man chuckled and began to speak.
"I am glad to see you, my child. I see you have a new ward?" he peered at Harry.
Harry was immediately calmed by the man's voice. It was like a warm blanket had been draped over him. He found himself relaxing.
"Yes, Master," Mr. Rengoku nodded. "This boy is Harry Potter. Tengen and I rescued him from his relatives, who appeared to be abusive towards him."
The Master raised an eyebrow.
"Harry Potter, you say...?" he mused.
He looked at Harry.
"Your parents wouldn't happen to be named James and Lily Potter?"
Harry was in shock. All he knew was that his parents were drunkards who died in a car crash. How did this complete stranger know who they were?
Harry hesitated, but answered.
"I... yes. But... may I ask how you knew?"
It was a risk, he knew, asking a question. But he couldn't help his curiosity.
The Master smiled grimly.
"Based on what I've just heard, I can guess that you don't know the truth. Harry, what do you know about your parents?"
Harry dutifully told him the truth- they were drunkards who died in a car crash.
The Master gave him a grave look.
"I'm sorry to say this, Harry, but everything you've been told about your parents is a lie."
Harry blinked in shock.
"A-a lie?! But how?!"
The Master gracefully gestured for him to calm down.
"If I may, I might tell you two a story..."
Mr. Rengoku, who had fallen silent, chose that moment to speak up.
"I am honestly quite curious as to this boy's history, Master."
The man shook his head sadly.
"It's not the happiest tale, I'm afraid. But you deserve to know... but before we begin, Harry, you've likely experienced strange occurrences, yes? Ones that you can't explain? Perhaps you summoned something from across the room?"
Harry blinked in shock.
"I-I've teleported to the roof of my school before... and I turned my teacher's hair blue once... but what does that have to do with anything?"
The Master smiled, while Mr. Rengoku turned to Harry in shock. He was starting to realize that there was more to this boy than meets the eye.

"There is a reason why you have those powers, Harry. It's because you are a wizard," the Master continued.
Green and gold-rimmed red eyed blinked at him.
"I'm a what?" Harry gasped.
Mr. Rengoku just stared.
The Master continued.
"For several millennia, even longer than Demons, wizards and witches have existed. They are more or less human, but possess special gifts. One theory of mine is that Muzan Kibutsuji himself was a wizard, which is how he is able to turn other humans and develop a Blood Demon Art.

"But that's another discussion for another time. As for you, Harry, you were born during a difficult time in the Wizarding World. A Dark Lord, Voldemort, was on the rise. Your own parents were vital in the fight against him. It is rumored that a prophecy appeared, however, that caused him to go after your family in particular. It was thought to be about how you, only an infant at the time, would destroy him.

"When he found and attacked your home, your parents were killed. You should have died that day, but you survived with only a scar to tell the tale. Voldemort himself vanished without a trace.

"You yourself vanished after that night. Many rumors floated around about your fate. Only Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of the Wizarding School of Britain, knew the truth until now. Although, I'm wondering if he quite knew what he was doing, given the family you were placed with... I'm surprised he didn't have a wizard nearby keeping an eye on you. The fact that it seems as though he didn't speaks of a great negligence on his part..."

"The spell cast onto Harry to kill him was the Killing Curse. Harry is the first to have survived it. It's considered a remarkable miracle in the Wizarding World. Harry was made famous just for surviving it, leaving only that scar on his forehead. They call him the "Boy-Who-Lived.""
As if Harry's head wasn't buzzing already. Not only did he survive when his parents (who turned out to not be drunkards) didn't, but he was famous for it? Just for being alive? For having a stupid scar? That didn't make any sense to him. He said so.
The Master laughed.
"I've never known what to believe when it comes to these things. A more likely story than you having incredible powers as an infant is your mother sacrificing herself to save your life. I've heard rumors that she was found by your crib. If she sacrificed herself, it's possible that her own life could have acted as a shield for you.

"But enough of that now. You are here, instead of in Britain where Dumbledore has kept you stashed. You have a few options now. You can stay here, in Japan, and either find your own way or train to be a Demon Slayer. We can reach out to Dumbledore, notify him that you've accidentally been left behind here, and return you to whatever destiny he thinks your meant for. Or, you can return to Britain in secret and find your path on your own. The choice is up to you, just know that I will assist you however I can in whatever choice you make."

Silence reigned over the room as Harry considered these things.
"M-Master? May I ask who Dumbledore is to me? Why does he control where I am to live?"
The Master sighed heavily.
"Unfortunately, your godfather was sent to prison. It was said that he had betrayed your parents. I have my doubts about this being true, as there was no trial, but that's what the general public believes. Your godmother was tortured into insanity along with her husband. Your father's other friends either died or vanished. Conveniently for him, Dumbledore was the last option. Everyone knows him as your magical guardian, although, if I'm being honest, I'm not entirely sure how legal his status is in your life. The fact that he sealed your parents' will makes it even more suspicious to me."

Silence enveloped the room again as Harry processed what he had heard. He knew that any contact with Dumbledore was out of the question. This was the man who sent him to the Dursleys to the abused. Harry was sure he didn't want the man involved in his life anymore.
He also couldn't return to Britain in secret. He was only a child. There was nowhere for him to go.
So, should he stay here, in Japan? He thought about having a normal life, with a normal family. He thought about the Rengoku family. About Demons. Could he really be content with a normal life knowing that Demons were out there? Knowing that he could help people?
Harry looked at the Master.

"You said I have magic... is there a way for me to learn how to use it without returning to Britain?"

The Master nodded, a small smile on his face.

"Yes. There is a magic school in Japan. They also know about the Demon Slayers. They are usually good at covering their tracks so we don't mistake a wizard or witch for a Demon."

Harry nodded. That made sense.

"Have you made a decision then, young Harry?"

Harry nodded, and met the Master's eye firmly.

"I want to study magic and become a Demon Slayer..."

Meanwhile, Albus Dumbledore had just arrived at a little neighborhood in Surrey, England. He had come a week earlier only to discover that the Dursley family was on vacation.
But that didn't explain his alarms going off.
He knocked firmly on the door of #4 Privet Dr.
A pleasantly-faced Petunia opened it, which quickly turned sour.
"You! What are you doing here?!" the woman demanded.
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. She didn't seem to be a hostage or in pain. What happened to Potter?
"I've come to check on Harry Potter. Fetch him for me, if you please."
It took a sharp eye to see how her face paled ever so slightly.
"No one by that name lives here! We are a normal family with normal lives! Now get out!"
Dumbledore stretched to his full height to seem more intimidating. It worked as Petunia took a few steps back. She glared at him, before huffing and crossing her arms.
"Fine! Some freaks made off with him in Japan. Who knows where he's at now. I'm just glad that freak is gone for good!"
Dumbledore discreetly drew his wand once she told him all she knew.
"If that's the case, I guess you are of no use anymore. Obliviate..."
With that spell, Petunia's memories of the meeting were erased. Just in case. He also erased the knowledge of Harry's whereabouts from her mind.

Once Dumbledore had apparated back to his office, he rushed to find a pen and paper. He quickly penned a letter to the Magical Ministry in Japan, explaining a brief summary of the situation (not in a way that made him look bad, of course) and requested assistance in searching for the boy. He reminded the Minister of the many favors he was owed, just in case. He sent the letter off, chuckling to himself. It wouldn't be long, he thought, until Harry Potter was back in his grasp...

Chapter Text

Harry's POV

Nine-seventy-one

Nine-seventy-two

Nine-seventy-three

Harry counted his sword swings as he trained, sweat dripping down his brow. As he swing his sword, he thought about the past few years.
He had stayed with the Rengoku family for two years, before being sent to the Japanese Wizarding school, Mahoutokoro, as students had to be nine years of age to enter. He stayed there during the normal school months. It was now the summer after his first year there.

Most interestingly, his headmaster had informed him that Dumbledore had contacted the Japanese Minister a couple months after he was adopted, requesting (demanding) that Harry return to England (to his abusive relatives).

The headmaster had, thankfully assured an alarmed Harry that since he was now a Japanese citizen, the Minister could not forcibly deport him to England. Not that the Minister wanted to. From what the headmaster heard, the Japanese Minister despised the man, citing his manipulative nature. In any case, by the law, Harry's current guardian (Shinjuro-san) would have to agree before such a thing could take place (which would never happen). Harry signed paperwork that further solidified his citizenship so that Dumbledore could not find any loopholes to force him back to England.

During the summer and winter breaks, he returned to the Rengoku family to continue his training to become a Demon Slayer.

However, the more he trained, the more he felt that Flame Breathing didn't fit him. It required a certain fiery spirit that he simply didn't posses. Kyojuro-kun on the other hand, who was Harry's older brother in all but blood, had taken to it very well. Shinjuro-san was quite proud of him.
Senjuro-chan was still too young to execute most of the training exercises, but that was alright. He was still young.
Harry was broken out of this thoughts as Kyojuro-kun left the house, an unusually grim look on his face. Harry frowned. Ruka-san had fallen sick recently, and the entire family was concerned for her.
Kyojuro-kun gave a brief wave to Harry before vanishing into the village. He no doubt intended to fetch medicine for his mother. Harry prayed that it would help.
Unfortunately, there were no potions that could help her, as she was not a witch and possessed no magical core that certain ingredients needed to react to. Because of this, there were few remedies for magicals that worked on non-magicals.
This was something that deeply frustrated Harry, especially considering the work of the Corps. He knew many more lives could have been saved if magical remedies worked on non-magical people.

He would have cured Ruka-san in a heartbeat if he could. She was the mother he never had.

But, all he could do was hope that there was something out there that would work.

Fifteen-twenty-five

Fifteen-twenty-six

Fifteen-twenty-seven

Harry continued diligently swinging his sword.

The sudden sound of swift footsteps made him glance towards the gate. The sight of Shinjuro-san hurrying inside, a tiny child behind him, made him pause mid-swing.
From what Harry could see, the boy was about his age, maybe younger. He was wrapped in a stained kimono with bandages around his mouth and, oddly enough, had a white snake around his neck. Harry missed the rest of the details as Shinjuro-san herded the boy inside.
Harry looked at his sword, frowning. He could guess what happened.

Another child lost everything because of those monsters.

Harry began to swing his sword with even more vigor than before. He needed to train hard so children like that young boy never went through anything like that again.

Kyojuro-kun returned a few hours later, about the time when Harry was done with training for the day. He had a package in his arms, no doubt containing medicine for Ruka-san.

Harry finished his stretches and went inside, intent on helping with whatever needed doing.
Shinjuro-san was working on making sure their young guest was warm and comfortable. Harry saw that he was now dressed in one of his old kimonos. He approached him slowly, keeping a soft smile on his face and a warm cup of tea in his hands. This wasn't the first time Shinjuro-san had brought an orphan to their house. He knew what to do by now. Kind, soft voices devoid of pity usually worked the best.

The young boy looked wary of him, but he didn't scream or start throwing things at him, so Harry took that as a plus. The snake did hiss at him though, prompting Harry to keep a safe distance. Harry didn't verbally respond. He knew about his Parseltongue ability, but this boy didn't, and he didn't want to freak him out by revealing he could communicate with snakes. The snake did immediately stop hissing when he spoke, no doubt recognizing a Speaker. From what Harry had learned, snakes could do this.

"Hello, there." Harry smiled at the new guest. "My name is Harry Rengoku. I'm Rengoku-san's adopted son! It's a pleasure to meet you! Would you like some tea?"

The boy didn't reply, but he did allow his hand to escape from his blanket to accept the warm mug that Harry held out to him.

The longer Harry sat there, the more he realized that something was wrong. It reminded Harry of how he was when he first came here. There was more to this than just a demon attack. Harry was sure of that. He suspected severe abuse. The child was skin and bones, and Harry could see blood staining the bandages around the child's mouth. A recent injury, then.

Harry knew that the boy would probably not appreciate if Harry's observations were voiced, so he remained silent on the subject, instead trying to find harmless questions. He noted that the boy did not drink the tea, instead just holding it in his hands. Harry supposed that the might not want to injure himself further.

"Your snake is pretty! What's his name?"

Harry could see that the snake and boy had a bond, and hoped the boy would talk about him at least.

"Kaburamaru," came the softest whisper from the child.

Harry beamed at him like he had just mastered a new Breathing technique.

"That's a wonderful name for him! I have a snake as well! Her name is Lily. Would you like to see her? I can bring her here if you'd like! She's really nice!"

The boy took a moment to think, and then nodded his approval. Making sure to keep his hands in full view, Harry quietly rose and left the room. He quietly padded to his room, where Lily the albino snake was resting in her cage.

"We have a young guesssst here, and he'd like to meeeeeet you. He has a ssssnake of hisss own. Are you willing to meeeeeeet with them?" Harry hissed to her quietly in Parseltongue.

He reached out and gently took her in his hands. Lily hissed quietly as she considered his question.

"Sssssure Masssster. I will meeeeeet with thisssss boyyyy and hisssssss friend," she replied.

"Thank you, Lily." Harry hissed back quietly.

He gently lifted her so that she was comfortably coiled around his shoulders, her small, white head rubbing his cheek softly.

Harry gently padded back to the living room where the boy still sat. It looked like he hadn't so much as twitched since Harry left them.

Harry sat down in a seiza in front of him, still keeping a distance so the boy didn't feel crowded. He gently unwound Lily from around his neck and held her between them, beaming widely.

"This is my friend, Lily. Lily, these are our guests."

Lily hissed out an acknowledgement. Kaburamaru hissed back. They began a conversation only the snakes and Harry could understand.

Choosing to pay them no mind, Harry smiled at the other boy.

"It looks like our companions get along well! That's good. It would be awkward if they hated each other!"

At that moment, Shinjuro-san returned with more tea and some food that, Harry noticed, would be light on the stomach. He remembered being fed something similar when it appeared that his stomach needed to adjust after long periods of starvation. Harry again wondered what happened to this boy, although the pieces were starting to come together.

Shinjuro-san was surprised to see Harry there, and handed him the tray.

"I have to report to the Master for Hashira business. Are you alright with looking after our guest this evening?"

Harry knew what that meant. This boy needed a place to stay and there was also the possibility that he would want to become a Demon Slayer himself. They might need to find a trainer for him. Harry immediately nodded.

"You can count on me, Shinjuro-san!" he replied brightly.

Shinjuro-san chuckled, brushing through his hair with a large, scarred hand.

"You have my thanks, Harry-chan. I will be off now!"

Harry turned back to the boy with a bright smile

"Shinjuro-san is a Hashira so he's often busy in the evenings." he explained.

The boy tilted his head at the word.

"Ha-shira?" he questioned.

Harry smiled and nodded.

"Yes! Shinjuro-san is a part of an organization that kills those monsters called Demons. He's a Hashira, which means that means that he has the highest rank."

To Harry's somewhat surprise, the boy sat up a little straighter and looked at him steadily, steel replacing the wariness he'd previously found there.

"Teach me," was all he said.

Well, that answered the question of if the boy wanted to be a Demon Slayer or not.

The boy, Obanai Iguro, eventually went to live with a trainer. Harry didn't see him again for a long time. He thought it was a shame. They seemed to have more things in common besides the abuse and a similar animal companion.

Harry did find the story behind Obanai's scars to be atrocious. Turns out that Obanai came from a family of thieves who partnered up with a Demon in order to increase their own wealth. They'd even feed their newborns to it. Obanai had only narrowly escaped such a fate, but still paid the price in having both sides of his mouth gruesomely cut open by the creature.

Harry was glad that he was alive, even if the Demon massacred his family out of anger before Shinjuro-san ended it. In Harry's mind, they deserved what they got. They should not have treated such a precious child like livestock. He was surprised to learn that Obanai was actually older than himself by about a year.

But that was months ago. Now, Harry was curiously peeking in the living room as another guest appeared. It was the current Wind Hashira, Masachika Kumeno, likely here on Hashira business. Harry only rarely got to see other Hashira, so he was curious.

The stranger smiled as he spotted Harry.

"Hello young one! It's been quite awhile hasn't it?"

The last time Harry saw him was about a week after he became a Rengoku, when he was still quiet and wary of everyone. This time, Harry stepped forwards and greeted the man with a smile and bow.

"I am glad to see you in good health, Masachika-sama," he said formally as he had been taught.

To his surprise, Masachika-sama just laughed.

"No need for that now, young Rengoku-san. Come, sit with me. Shinjuro-san and I wish to have a conversation with you."

Harry, somewhat dumbfounded, obeyed and sat in a seiza next to his adoptive father.

Masachika gave him an encouraging smile.

"We have been talking about your training progress young one, and how you feel you may not be fit for Flame Breathing. We were just talking about the possibility of seeing if Wind Breathing suited you better. If that is the case, then I would be happy to train you- assuming you wish the same, of course."

Harry blinked in shock. He hadn't considered asking to learn another breathing style. He hadn't wanted to offend his adoptive family when they had done so much for him. Shinjuro-san, sensing his dilemma, spoke up.

"I have long suspected that you may not be suited to Flame Breathing. However, Wind Breathing might suit you more given the technique's longer range of attacks. If you wish to continue to learn Flame Breathing then I will not stop you. However, if Wind Breathing suits you better, your path to becoming a Demon Slayer will be that much easier. Please also know that choosing a different technique does not make you any less, just that you fight differently. What do you say, Harry-kun?"

Harry considered this for a long moment. He knew by now that he was loved and that the Rengokus certainly did not desire to get rid of him. He forced the thoughts down of them having one less mouth to feed might mean more medicine for Ruka-san and a better chance of her recovering. He nodded.

"I will... try it out... and then I'll decide," he answered slowly.

From the moment that Harry, with Masachika-sama's guidance, touched the Wind Breathing technique, he knew it was the one. The forms came to him much easier than Flame Breathing did. He felt freer, like he was the wind. It was amazing. Both Masachika-sama and Shinjuro-san were impressed by how quickly he picked up the technique.

However, Harry was reluctant to just up and leave the Rengoku family. While he would always be a Rengoku, if not in blood at least in spirit, he was worried that his leaving would mean more work for Kyojuro-kun, as he would have the sole burden of looking after his younger brother and mother while Ruka-san was ill. He asked for a month of time to decide, which was immediately granted to him.

Later that night, Harry found himself unable to sleep. He kept tossing and turning restlessly. Finally, he gave up and went to the engawa for some fresh air. To his surprise, Shinjuro-san was waiting for him with a smile and cup of tea. The Japanese drank as much tea as the English did, Harry thought to himself as he accepted the warm mug with a sigh.

"I know how you are when you have an important choice to make," Shinjuro-san answered his unasked question.

Harry supposed that this wasn't the first time that he had slipped out of his room in the middle of the night when coming to a tough decision, whether that be whether or not he wanted training for his magic or... anything else. He looked at Shinjuro-san.

"If I decide to choose Wind Breathing..." he began slowly. "What would change for me?"

Shinjuro-san nodded thoughtfully.

"You would still be under my guardianship on paper, although Masachika-san will be caring for you. Given that his estate is a ways away from ours, and the fact that he often travels due to his own Hashira duties, you would have to live with him if you want him as your sensei. However, you will always be a Rengoku and will be welcomed here anytime... you will not be abandoned by us." Shinjuro paused for a moment. "Think of it like your magical schooling. You may be there for a time but this house is still yours to call home."

Harry considered this for a moment. What Shinjuro-san said did make sense. It's like he would be cut off from them, since he could visit anytime. He knew he would be busy with training, but he knew he could probably come visit and practice his forms here while Masachika-sama was on missions. He looked at Shinjuro-san again.

"And what of Ruka-san? Will you be able to take care of her when I'm gone?"

Shinjuro-san smiled sadly.

"We managed it when you were still in your magic school. We'll be alright."

Harry nodded reluctantly as he thought about it. And he could help on the days he visited as well

And then there was the Wind Breathing itself. It suited him perfectly, he knew it. Although he had not perfected any of the forms yet, he could feel it in his blood- like something clicked. He knew he could better serve the Corps if he learned Wind Breathing as opposed to Flame Breathing. And, since he wished to become a Slayer to save lives more than anything else, he knew what he had to do. As much as he loved living here, he had to put the future lives that may be held in his hand first. He straightened his back and looked Shinjuro-san in the eye.

"I would like to accept Masachika-sama's proposal and learn Wind Breathing."

Chapter Text

Harry's POV
A lot of things changed after Harry became the student of the current Wind Pillar, Masachika Kumeno. He was a kind young man, but also quite strict. He expected nothing but your best efforts, which the young boy did his best to give. When he had missions, which was often, Harry would stay at the Rengoku household. It was hard for him to stay there, though, as Ruka-San became ever weaker. However, he knew he couldn't abandon them after all they had done for him so he continued to return and help out as much as he could.

Awhile after Harry became his apprentice, Masachika-Sensei came home a little late. And he wasn't alone. A young boy a couple years older than Harry was with him. He was covered in blood and had a feral look in his eye.
Harry smiled and bowed politely.
"Harry Rengoku at your service. It's nice to meet you!"
The boy only scoffed and looked away, not uttering a word.
Harry huffed. Rude.
Masachika-Sensei smiled at his student.
"This is Sanemi Shinazugawa," he explained. "He's a Marechi who's been luring in demons with his blood, and then chaining them up until the sun comes up. I intend to train him alongside you."
Harry blinked in surprise. He had never heard of anyone managing to do that sort of thing without any training at all. That was impressive. He hoped the other would eventually agree to become friends with him.

And he did after Harry found his weakness- ohagi. A few plates of that later and the two were joined at the hip.

He told Harry about what happened to his family, and how they were all dead save for one of his brothers who he'd severed ties with in hopes that he'd live his own life and not join the Corps. Although Harry wasn't a big fan of the way he went about it, he understood his desperation to protect the only family he had left.

And Harry, in turn, told him about his magic and what happened to his own family. It was only reasonable as he stayed with them, and it would be impossible to keep it a secret for long. Sanemi-kun accepted magic with a surprising amount of tenacity for someone with such a violent personality, Harry had thought.

Sanemi-kun also took to Wind Breathing like a duck to water. It didn't take him long to reach Harry's own level. Then again, he was older, nearing the age of fifteen, with Harry being a little over twelve.

A few months into their newfound friendship, tragedy struck in Harry's own life.

Ruka Rengoku finally succumbed to her illness.

Harry immediately went to the Flame Estate once he heard the news. Kyojuro-kun was the one who greeted him at the gate, his usual smile dim and his eyes red. He'd been crying. Harry quickly enveloped him in the tightest embrace he could manage, hoping to convey a level of comfort and apology that he wasn't there. He squeezed him back just as tightly in thanks and forgiveness. Once they went inside, Harry could immediately see how dim the atmosphere was without the calming but steady and strong presence of the Rengoku matriarch. He looked at his brother.

"Where's Shinjuro-San?"

Kyojuro-kun's shoulders had an uncharacteristic slump.

"He's... at the bar."

Harry sighed. He'd had a feeling that the older man would not handle the death of his wife well. It seems he was right. He looked at Kyojuro-kun.

"I'll stay for as long as I can. Masachika-Sensei will understand if I need a few weeks to take care of everything."

Harry wanted to help his family as much as possible. He already felt guilty that he wasn't there for Ruka-San's passing. The least he could do was help now.

Kyojuro-kun sighed.
"Father has become... something other than himself right now. I know that you've had... history with this sort of thing. I don't want you to get hurt."

Harry mentally sighed. It was worse than he'd thought then. As much as the thought that Shinjuro-San, the same man who saved him from his abusers, was starting to become like them due to the sheer magnitude of his grief made his insides twist, he couldn't abandon them. Kyojuro-kun and Senjuro-kun were still, and would always be, his beloved brothers. Harry couldn't, wouldn't, abandon them when they needed him the most.

Harry nodded to himself as an idea came to him.
"If you need to, you can come to Masachika-Sensei's place. I'm sure he wouldn't turn you away."

Kyojuro-kun shook his head.
"I have to stay here and look after Father. And the texts I'll need for my training are here too. I can't leave."

Harry was shaken out of the sudden realization that Shinjuro-San had stopped training Kyojuro-kun when the latter grabbed his shoulders.

"But Senjuro-kun should go with you. I don't want him to see Father like this."

Before Harry could answer, the man they spoke of appeared. Harry mentally winced at his appearance. Instead of the usual crisp uniform, he was wearing a threadbare kimono. He smelled like the jar of sake in his hand. His hair was a mess. When he saw the boys, his eyes filled with a rage they had never seen directed at them by this man before.
For a moment Harry was frozen. He felt like he was back with the Dursleys as Shinjuro-San started to unleash all his rage and grief onto the two boys in front of him. His chest tightened in a way it hadn't for years as the voices of his aunt and uncle echoed in his head, making him want to crawl to the relative safety under the stairs.

Harry only snapped out of it when the man roughly grabbed Kyojuro-kun by the arm as he continued to yell. That reminded Harry of why he was there. This was not the time to take an unwanted trip down memory lane.
"...still be alive if not for you!!" The rage-filled words of the enraged man suddenly started filling Harry's ears as he screamed at him. It seemed like he blamed him for the death of his wife.

Harry din't rightly remember what happened after that, only that he somehow ended up outside with Kyojuro-kun fussing over him as one of his hands inexplicably had split knuckles.

"...so sorry, Harry! I- he hasn't lashed out like that before."

It took Harry a minute to realize that Kyojuro-kun was apologizing for his father's behavior. He sighed.
"I... it's alright, Kyo. Don't apologize. It wasn't your fault."

Harry's brother fidgeted.
"I still should have protected you from that. I'm the older one after all."

Harry shook his head.

"You've been dealing with it since Ruka-San... passed. Don't blame yourself."

Kyojuro-kun finally stopped apologizing, but Harry could still see the guilt in his eyes as the older boy gently wrapped his knuckles.

Eventually, the two boys came to an agreement. Harry and Senjuro-kun would permanently stay with Masachika-Sensei, assuming the later was amenable to that. Kyojuro-kun would stay to keep training and keep an eye on their father. Harry did his best to convince Kyojuro-kun to come with them, but he would not be moved. Harry only agreed as long as Kyojuro-kun promised daily updates via crow and weekly visits to the Wind Estate.

Later, when Shinjuro-San went to the bar to buy more sake, Harry sneaked Senjuro-kun out of the Flame Estate, leaving Kyojuro-kun behind with a heavy heart. He inwardly prayed it wasn't a mistake as he clutched his younger sibling close to his chest.
Little Senjuro was asleep, thankfully. He had slept a lot since Ruka-San died. It made Harry sad that the little one would likely barely have any memories of his mother.

Once Harry came back to the Wind Estate, Senjuro-kun still in his arms, he was greeted at the gates by a worried Masachika-Sensei.
Harry pursed his lips sadly as he explained the situation.

"Ruka-San has passed away," he began softly. "Shinjuro-San has lost his mind to grief. He is drinking heavily and lashing out at everything in sight. I brought little Senjuro-kun back with me to prevent his father from harming him. I tried to convince Kyojuro-kun to come as well but he was adamant that he stayed to continue his training as well to keep an eye on his father. Is it agreeable to you if Senjuro-kun stays with us for the foreseeable future?"

As Harry spoke, he had been ushered inside and a futon was laid out for Senjuro-kun to rest. Harry gently laid the boy down and turned to his Sensei, waiting for his answer. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a curious Sanemi peeking through the doorway.

Masachika-Sensei smiled gently, placing a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Of course he may stay with us, Harry-kun. It would be quite terrible of me to ignore such a child's plight, your own brother's no less. And, if you like, I can try to help on my end. As a Hashira, I can probably make sure that Rengoku-San will be too busy to harm his children."

Harry's shoulders slumped in relief. It's not that he doubted his Sensei, he just needed to hear the confirmation that the older man had his back. Had their backs.

Masachika-Sensei turned to where Sanemi-kun was standing.

"Sanemi-kun, kindly prepare some food for when our guest awakens. Harry-kun, prepare the guest room for your brother."

Both boys immediately obeyed. Despite the normally chaotic nature of the duo, both boys could tell that this was not the time to argue.

As Harry was gathering supplies from the kitchen, he felt Sanemi-kun lean slightly closer to his shoulder.

"You good?" he grunted quietly in typical Sanemi fashion.

Harry smiled sadly, knowing that Sanemi-kun was truly concerned about him.

"Yeah," he lied, keeping himself busy so as to avoid looking at his best friend.

Sanemi-kun snorted in disbelief but otherwise let him be. He knew he couldn't pry anything out of him unless the other was willing.

Once Senjuro-kun was fed and placed in his new room, training began again. Although at this time they normally focused on perfecting the Wind Breathing forms by constant repetition, Masachika-Sensei sensed that something else was needed, and commanded the two boys to spar.
Harry was grateful. He needed to release the built up tension in his system. A good spar would help with that. The twelve-year-old picked up his wooden sword, and prepared a stance, Sanemi-kun doing the same on the other side of the dojo.

Harry ended up losing the fight after three hours, his inner turmoil affecting his performance. Nonetheless, the fight had helped settle his mind. Shinjuro-San may have betrayed him, just like the guardians before him, but Harry was no longer the powerless weakling he had been. He could do something about his circumstances now.
And, Harry thought as he looked to where Masachika-Sensei and Sanemi-kun stood, he was no longer alone. Those two, he knew, would support him no matter what. Plus, he still had his brothers. He wasn't going to let one person's betrayal bring him to despair. Not this time.

***time skip a few months***

Harry and Sanemi stood still as Masachika-Sensei fussed over them in an uncharacteristic manner.

"Remember to-"

"-head to where the sunlight will come first."
Harry finished what his Sensei had said.

"And also-"

"Remember to hunt for food during the day."
Sanemi-kun did what Harry had done.

Masachika-Sensei sighed.

"Alright then. I'll stop fussing. It's not like Slayers get lucky in Final Selection very often though, so be careful."

"Except for that one a couple years ago," Harry quipped, referencing a somewhat recent Selection where all but one of the participants had survived. It was all-but unheard of for that many to survive, as usually over half of the participants perished in the Demon-filled hell.

Final Selection didn't make much sense to Harry. Why trap these people on a mountain like that for a week? Why risk wasting valuable lives and potential just to get in the Corps?

For all he knew, that one potential slayer who perished two years before might have had the potential of a Hashira. Harry had heard he'd saved most of his fellow participants, killing most of the Demons in the process. Privately, Harry wondered what sort of Demon could kill someone so allegedly strong, especially when these Demons were supposed to be super weak. He hoped he didn't meet it.

Although he understood that letting just anyone join might be a bad idea, he was sure that there was a more humane for them to do so than be forced to survive for a week in hell.

But what could he do? He was about to participate in this hell himself, Sanemi-kun at his back.

Harry snapped out of his inner thoughts as he and Sanemi-kun were finally sent off by Masachika-Sensei and Senjuro-kun (who was clutching at Masachika-Sensei's leg), spouting promises to return at the promised time.

He and Sanemi-kun set off at a steady jog, making good time but not exhausting themselves. They'd need all the energy they could get to survive this week.

They picked up Kyojuro-kun on the way, the other boy sneaking out while his father was absent in order to take the exam. His father (who was no longer a Hashira) had strongly disapproved of Kyojuro-kun's continued training, and would have prevented the boy from going no doubt if his sake stash had not conveniently vanished.
When they arrived, a few people had already gathered. Harry immediately noticed some people who stood out. One was an old friend.

"Obanai-kun! How are you?"

Harry hadn't seen the other boy in a long time, although they occasionally exchanged letters. He went towards him, Kyojuro-kun on his heels, a puzzled but curious Sanemi following behind.

Obanai-kun raised a brow when he saw him, but Harry knew from how the hard line of his brow softened and the happy hiss of Kaburamaru that they were welcomed.

After Sanemi-kun was introduced, the four talked about what had been happening in each other's lives lately.
Obanai-kun had invented his own breathing style, Serpent Breathing, it turned out. His teacher taught Water Breathing, and he'd based his own technique off of that. The other boys were quite impressed with this. It was hard to create your own breathing style.

Soon, they made another friend. A beautiful girl with two pink and green butterfly clips in her long, black hair named Kanae Kocho introduced herself to them. She was joining the Corps because her parents had been killed by demons. She and her younger sister, Shinobu, were saved by the current Stone Pillar. She used Flower Breathing and was also medically skilled, it turned out.

However, as they talked and more participants arrived, a voice sounded from the front of the clearing.

Final Selection had begun.

"Total concentration..."

A Demon snarled at Harry from below where he seemed to fly.

"Wind Breathing..."

The Demon reached towards Harry with sharp claws.

"Seventh Form... Gale, Sudden Gusts..."

The Demon was shredded to pieces before it could touch Harry, its head landing a distance from its body.

Harry gracefully landed on the ground, as the dismayed Demon turned to ash behind him. A feeling of elation coursed through his body.

That was his first kill.

He was finally making a difference.

Sanemi-kun grinned at him, his own kill turning to ash not away.

Harry nodded at him.

"Let's go."

They hadn't been in this Demon hell for long, but they were already being heavily assaulted. Harry thought that the Demons who'd been there longer than a few months knew of what was coming and wanted a chance for some "food."

Harry snapped his head to where he heard rustling sounds, hand on his hilt, but eased a bit when he realized it was just Kyojuro-kun.

The trio continued on, trying their best to stay together.

Obanai-kun and Kanae-San had gone off on their own.

Three days later, they came across a Demon who had the unusual and annoying ability to create sonic booms. Kyojuro-kun (or rather his hearing) was an unfortunate victim of that Demon, and he'd starting talking quite loudly to make up for his busted hearing, which drove Sanemi-kun crazy to no end.
Other than that, the trio were doing rather well and had no serious injuries between them.

On the last day, the exhausted trio encountered a fellow participant, who was urging them away from where they were going.

"It's huge!" the boy cried out. "Run! You'll never kill it!"
After the boy left in a state of terror, the trio looked at each other. Something out of the ordinary had clearly spooked him. They decided to investigate from a distance.

Harry gasped as the massive Demon came into view. It was truly enormous. It's body was fat, and an ugly green color. It was covered in hands. It was also talking.

"Come out, come out, sweet little foxes!"

Its voice was horrendous. Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. This Demon was possibly on a league with a Twelve Kizuki. There's no way the three of them could defeat it. Grabbing Sanemi's arm tightly in case he got any ideas, Harry pulled them all away.

Harry could only feel numb as he stood in the clearing where Final Selection had begun. There had been about thirty participants at the beginning of the week. Now, fewer than ten remained, including himself, Sanemi-kun, Obanai-kun, Kanae-San, and four others Harry didn't know.

Harry knew that many died in Final Selection, but that knowledge didn't prepare him for the harsh reality of the missing participants.

He still felt numb as he chose the ore for his sword, as a beautiful Kasugai crow was assigned to him, as he was measured for his uniform.

He understood, perhaps for the first time, that this line of work truly came with a heavy, costly price. A price paid in blood.

Masachika-Sensei received the three boys happily, declaring that he was quite proud of them. Kyojuro-kun had elected to stay at the Wind Estate for a time. He had no doubt that his father would be enraged once he found out that Kyojuro-kun was now a Demon Slayer. It was best to wait until his first mission over and allow the heat of anger to cool.
Harry had doubts that would work but kept silent. It was Kyojuro-kun's decision to go back after all.

Two weeks later, the sound of tinkling bells greeted the boys, who were training in the yard. The clambered to the door, knowing what was coming.

"Masachika-Dono!" Kyojuro-kun, who's hearing still suffered, yelled. "The swordsmith is here!"

Indeed, the smith had come, three carefully-wrapped packages with him.

Harry greeted him and let him inside, allowing the man to take a seat as he eagerly awaited his own package.

The smith handed the packages out.

"These swords were specially forged with special steel that is infused with sunlight," he explained.

Harry was amazed as he unwrapped his sword. The hilt was wrapped in black leather and had tiny, green triangle decorations on it. The sword sheath was also green. The green of the sword and sheath matched his eyes. His tsuba was round and had little designs that reminded him of tornadoes. After admiring it for a moment, Harry carefully drew it. He gasped as it turned green, much like Sanemi-kun's did. Except, for Harry, he had a gold streak right through the middle of the flat of the blade.

"That's because of your magic," the smith, quite excited, exclaimed, causing Harry to start. How did he know?

It was Masachika-Sensei who explained.
"The smiths have always known about magic users in the ranks so they can fashion weapons accordingly. Their blades often have a streak like yours as their magic also reacts to the metal."

Harry nodded. That made sense. Sort of.

Kyojuro-kun drew his sword and was delighted when it turned red, making the smith very happy.

"Red swords are a sign of good luck, you know," the smith explained. "It really must mean I have amazing luck if I get a magic user and a red sword in the same day!"
The man left, humming quite happily to himself as three teenagers stared after him, puzzled, as Masachika-Sensei laughed behind them.

The trio was sent on a mission that very night, their crows coming to them with an assignment not ten minutes after the smith left.

Before they left, Masachika-Sensei gifted Sanemi-kun and Harry beautiful haoris. Harry's was white with black ravens flying amok on it. Sanemi-kun's was white with green wind patterns on it. Kyojuro-kun had his father's old haori with the flame patterns on it.

It wasn't long until they were close to the village.

"According to what the crow told us," Harry said, Lily, who was wrapped around his neck, hissing in agreement. "The village should be a few miles out."

Sanemi-kun rolled his eyes.

"Way to state the obvious."

Harry decidedly did not comment that Sanemi-kun had the very habit of doing that very thing all the time and focused on the mission.

There was a Demon living in the surrounding woods that was preying on the women who went to draw water in the outer well in the evening. It was said to be able to put these women in a trance so they would allow themselves to be drowned in the well and then eaten.

Harry thought that was a horrible way to die.

Sanemi-kun just wondered why the women weren't smart enough to stay away from the well.

Kyojuro-kun was just happy to be able to do his duty.

As they entered, they could immediately tell something was wrong. Everyone, especially the women, were giving each other furtive glances as they caught sight of the newcomers, eyeing the snake around Harry's neck and the suspicious looking shapes hidden under their haoris.

Harry saw a young man morosely walking along the street, people whispering as he passed.

"Poor guy... his sister committed suicide this week... she must have been secretly depressed... she jumped into the well like those other girls... could he have done it?"

Overall, the picture painted wasn't pretty. It seems as though many girls had been committing suicide by jumping in this one well close to the village edge. Each of them left a suicide note. What was odd was that none of the girls had outwardly shown signs of depression or suicidal tendencies. And so many of them were happening so the village thought everyone was going mad.

Harry thought it more likely that the girls were lured out there and then killed, the suicide notes being used as a cover-up for the Demon's evil deeds. This would not be easy if the creature showed that level of cognition.

He approached the strange boy everyone was whispering about.

"Excuse me? My name is Harry. My friends and I are looking to see what caused these suicides. Will you accept our help?"

The boy stared at him and turned away, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.

"What can you do?! My sister was fine, I swear it! And now she's dead! Unless you can bring back the dead, stay away from me!"

Kyojuro-kun, following Harry's lead, grabbed him by the shoulder in a gentle but firm grip.

"We believe that your sister was fine. We're here to help find out what happened. Will you take us to the well?"

Thanks to the boy, whose name was Saburo-San, they located the well. Everything seemed alright with the well itself, but the presence of a Demon remained, a lingering stench that no scrubbing could erase. They decided to stake it out until nightfall.
Sanemi-kun, who was the fastest, remained close in case another woman decided to suddenly take a dip in the well.
As dusk came, Harry noted that, because of the position of the well, it became dusk here faster than at the other places in the village. This would give the Demon more cover to commit its atrocities. They'd have to be careful.

All three of them tensed when the figure of a young woman appeared. She stepped close to the well, bucket ready to draw water. Everything seemed fine and normal. Suddenly, she stopped, and seemed to be listening.

Harry strained his ears, and suddenly froze as the forgotten voice of his mother reached his ears. She was beckoning him, telling him to come to her. He only knew what she sounded like due to the nightmares he had of her death.

He looked over at Sanemi, who's face was white as his hair. Harry could guess what he was hearing. Kyojuro-kun seemed confused by their expressions. Harry remembered his hearing loss. Perhaps the distance from the Demon meant that the spell didn't have as much of an effect on him.

With a jolt, he looked at the woman at the well, who seemed to be in a trance. She had tears in her eyes, and was reaching towards the well. Harry then understood what this Demon did.

Harry glanced at Sanemi-kun, who was still in a state of shock and realized that no help would come from that corner. Looking at Kyojuro-kun, he pointed to himself, and then to the well. He pointed at Kyojuro-kun, and then the girl. Kyojuro-kun, nodded, understanding.
As one, Harry and Kyojuro-kun pushed off the tree and shot towards the woman was standing, body poised to jump into the well.

Chapter Text

Harry's POV
Everything felt like a blur as Kyojuro-kun and Harry shot towards the woman, who was about to jump into the well. Kyojuro-kun quickly grabbed her, yanking her away from the well as she screamed in shock. Harry went straight for the well, drawing his sword.

"Total concentration... Wind Breathing... Second Form... Claws-Purifying Wind."

Aiming for the well, Harry slashed it, the second form allowing him to execute four slashes towards the ground. An inhuman shriek told him that he landed a hit. Landing gracefully, Harry regained his bearings. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kyojuro-kun calming down the frightened woman. A small gust of wind behind him told him that Sanemi-kun had recovered himself and was ready to fight.

At the well, a blob was starting to form. It reeked of death and destruction. A slimy-looking Demon appeared. It had a figure that looked like a mockery of a mermaid. It appeared to be female. She hissed at Harry and Sanemi-kun.

"Shame on you for stealing that girl from me! You men are all the same! Give her back! I must save her from the likes of you! Blood Demon Art, Storms of Hail!"
She hurled sharp projectiles at them from the palms of her hands.

In response, Harry and Sanemi-kun simply charged towards the creature, completely in sync.

"Total concentration..."

"Total concentration..."

"Wind Breathing..."

"Wind Breathing..."

"Third Form... Clear Storm Wind Tree..."

"Fifth Form... Cold Mountain Wind..."

While Sanemi-kun deflected most of the projectiles with the Third Form, Harry followed behind him, going for the Demon's neck from above with the Fifth Form. The Demon shrieked as her attack was deflected, and dove back into the well, just in time for Harry's blade to barely miss her neck.
Harry cursed as he landed, regretting the miss. He felt a faint stream of blood slide down his face.
Thankfully, the Demon was enraged enough that she didn't retreat. It would be a pain if they had to keep staking out the well, and the position provided it with enough shade that it could operate during the daytime too.

Harry and Sanemi-kun prepared their stances as the Demon shot up from the well, a sick smirk on her face.

"Let's see you dodge this! Blood Demon Art, Shells of the Sea!"

A giant net made of shells and something that looked like seaweed flared out in all directions, hoping to ensnare and trap the Slayers.

Harry was laser-focused on the incoming net, preparing a stance.

"Total Concentration... Wind Breathing... Fourth Form... Rising Dust Storm..."

Harry and Sanemi-kun both used the Fourth Form to shred the net from below, completely demolishing it. However, they realized it was a trick as the faint scent of poison perforated the air.

The Demon cackled in victory. Even if they damaged the net, they would be downed by her special poison. The Slayers' lives were hers now.

"Total Concentration... Wind Breathing... Sixth Form... Black Wind Mountain Mist.."

This form allowed the pair to disperse the poison with a single, powerful slash. Not allowing the Demon another second to release another Blood Demon Art, the pair pushed off the rocky ground, slicing through the air in an instant. This time, they were successful as the Demon's head rolled on the ground a moment later.

"What?!" She exclaimed as she suddenly realized her defeat. "You?! Useless scum?! Defeat me?! Impossible!"

As the Demon met her end, she started to remember her past as a human. How she was cast away because of her appearance and became depressed. And how a strange man came along and offered her a way to have revenge. How she sought to save other women from the same fate by giving them the gift of death.

"Those women should thank me," she thought as her head disintegrated. "I saved them from becoming worthless."

Meanwhile, the Slayers were recovering from the ordeal. Sanemi-kun had not been able to block all of the projectiles, resulting in minor injuries on his and Harry's faces. Kyojuro-kun was mostly alright, although he had been scratched a little by the woman he'd saved. The woman had still been under the Demon's influence until she'd been killed, so the young man had held her back during the fight, lest she try to jump into the well, which would have likely resulted in the distraction and injury of his comrades.

"Let's go back..." Harry said.

His comrades nodded in agreement as they returned to the village.

That night, in a hotel, Harry found himself unable to sleep. Rising, he quietly left the room where Kyojuro-kun was still snoring loudly. Wrapping his robe more tightly around himself as he shivered in the cold, he approached his absent friend, sitting next to him without a word. Sanemi-kun would talk to him when he was ready. It was never a good idea to push. Finally, Sanemi-kun shuddered and looked at him from the corner of his eye.

"What did you hear?" he asked Harry.

Harry knew what he meant.

"I heard my mother's voice. She kept asking me to come to her. That she was... waiting for me."

Sanemi-kun's shoulders slumped.

"I..." he hesitated. "I heard my mother and siblings. They kept asking me to come with them... so we'd all be together again. It... was really hard to resist them, especially when the younger ones started to cry. How did you do it?"

Harry sighed.

"I guess... I don't really remember my mom much. I only know what she sounded like because I still have nightmares of hearing her die. She's... always been dead to me, so there wasn't anything to miss."

Sanemi-kun grunted in understanding. They sat for an endless amount of time in silence. Harry knew how hard it was for his friend. His entire family had been massacred, save for a single brother who had pushed away as a hope that he'd stay away from the Corps. He was alone. As the oldest, Harry knew the guilt was eating him alive. It wouldn't be easy to get past this type of trauma, if he ever would. Right now, Harry would do the best he could to support him.
Finally, when dawn was nearing, Harry gently nudged his best friend.

"Let's go inside. We'll need sleep for our next mission."

Sanemi-kun nodded wordlessly.

***Time Skip***

Time had passed. Harry was now fourteen years old with more experience as both a Slayer and a Wizard under his belt.

The new school year at Mahoutokoro for the young Slayer had started a week before. The young man was contentedly heading back to his dorm after dinner, which he shared with three others who were in a similar situation-Wizards who hunted Demons by night. Because of the perimeter by which they patrolled, they were often finished with their missions before midnight. Which helped as they often had classes the next morning. The situation wasn't ideal, but they dealt with it.

Harry smiled as he thought about his new friends; Akira, Takeo, and Haruto. Their families had been killed by Demons, resulting in their desire to become Slayers. They had passed Final Selection at fourteen, right before their fourth year at the magical school. The castle had provided their housing needs as they had nowhere else to go, as they did for any other orphan.
Harry always thought that was nice of them.

Anyways, Harry hummed happily as he approached his dorm room. He had stayed behind after dinner to ask a Professor a question, so he was alone while his friends had gone ahead. Not that he minded. The castle was peaceful at this time of the evening. At least, that's what Harry thought.

Unfortunately for Harry, his life was about to take a sharp turn.

Just as he rounded the bend to reach the entrance to his dorm, a heavy weight pressed down on him. It felt like he was being squeezed through a tiny tube. Resisting the urge to vomit, Harry acted the moment he hit the ground again (when did he ever leave the ground?). His sword, his preferred weapon, was drawn (usually good if you didn't know if non-Magicals were involved), a Wind Breathing Form already on his tongue.

"Wind Breathing... Third Form... Clear Storm Wind Tree..."

Given that this form was the most defensive out of all the forms, it was useful in deflecting any attacks that might be aimed at Harry from whoever had abducted him-most likely a Demon.  However, the words that were spouted in response to his Breathing Technique were spells, not Blood Demon Arts.

Before he was even finished executing his form, Harry had already come to the conclusion that he'd been abducted by Wizards, possibly from Britain, based on the accents and language used by the shouting Wizards.

Harry's zori met the stone skillfully as he quickly prepared to deflect anymore attacks. Looking around, he blinked. He appeared to be in an enormous room-likely a great hall. To his right, a handful of startled older Witches and Wizards were pointing their wands at him. Behind one of them, Harry thought he saw a glimpse of blue fire. To the other side, a large gaggle of students were seated at four large tables, various banners hanging above each one. A lion, a serpent, a raven, and a badger. The students closest to him had their wands pointed at him.

Ah. So that's where he was.

Harry kept his blade drawn. He didn't trust this at all. The act of summoning him should have serious legal repercussions for the one who did so. How was this possible...?

"Harry, my boy! It's so good to meet you at last. You can't imagine how worried we all were for you when we discovered you were missing! Especially since it seems as though the Japanese held you captive! But you're safe now, where your parents always wanted you to be. Now, why don't you give that sword to me, and we can see about getting you sorted?"

The voice came from behind Harry. Despite the seemingly grandfatherly nature of the older man's words, they did nothing but send shivers down his spine. He wanted to vomit when he sensed the suggestion behind his words, intent on controlling him.

Harry had never been more grateful for his occlumency lessons.

He straightened, keeping his sword drawn, but pointed to the ground. Choosing to answer to nothing of what the old man said, Harry asked a question of his own.

"How did I get here?"

He turned to face the old man who had spoken. It was just as he thought. There was no doubt in his mind that this was Albus Dumbledore. The one who placed him with his abusive "family" without bothering to do a background check.

The old man blinked in surprise at the question, no doubt expecting questions about his parents, etc.

"Well, my boy, you are in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy. Your lovely parents studied here. I knew them quite well you see. This year, this great school is hosting a legendary tournament, the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Despite the fact that only three Wizards at a time are meant to be selected, your name appeared in the Goblet of Fire, and then the Goblet summoned you here. It seems fate has brought you here! How wonderful!"

Harry considered the man's words as he smoothly sheathed his sword, but kept it ready to draw.

"I assume that there a tangible way to see how a student is selected? May I see?"

The old man was surprised again, but handed Harry a scrap of paper. Harry was careful not to touch him. He looked at the paper.

Harry Potter.

All that written on the paper was his name. Or rather, his former name.

"But this is wrong." Harry waved the piece of paper. "My name was legally changed after I was adopted. My name is Harry Rengoku now. How was it able to summon me after I changed my name?"

Dumbledore gave him an indulgent smile that made Harry want to shred him into tiny pieces.

"The power of the Goblet of Fire is quite mysterious. No one quite knows how it operates."

Harry thought that answer was bullcrap. Someone would have had to put his name in there and have some idea that he would be summoned. Sounds like he was just giving an excuse for his own lack of knowledge. Oh well. Harry would play along for now. He had to find out more about the Tournament.

"So this Tournament..." Harry mused. "I assume that a magical contract is involved. What are the terms?"

Another man stepped forwards at this point. He looked like he thought himself to be quite important and official. He was likely the government liaison for this event.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Potter (Harry had to resist the urge to correct him), that if you don't compete, your magical core will be stripped away, resulting in a most painful death. I'm afraid you have no choice but to compete."

Harry silently processed the news. This could be a problem if it affected either his schooling or Demon slaying. He turned to the official-looking man.

"And what is required of the participants?"

The man straightened up, his self-importance oozing.

"Each one must complete three separate tasks. They must also be present at the Yule Ball in December."

"And how long does each task usually take?"

"A few hours at most, depending on the task."

Oh. This would be easier than he thought. They only needed him for four days. That was doable.

Harry bowed and nodded, turning back to Dumbledore.

"I understand. These are my terms to participate. I'm sure you wouldn't refuse them. Wouldn't want me to drop dead after all. First, I represent my own school, Mahoutokoro. Secondly, my Headmaster and some of the students of my school may attend the tasks as they wish. Thirdly, my non-magical family is also welcome to come. They are all aware of magic and have done nothing but support me. Finally, I am not required to stay here during the school year, but may return to Japan, only returning here on the days of the tasks. Is this agreeable to you? Surely it's not too much to ask?"

Silence reined in the hall. Harry had a feeling they that no one ever challenged old Albus Dumbledore like this. The old man quickly shook his head.

"I would have thought it would have been preferable for you to remain here for the year, and study where your parents studied?"

If he brought up Harry's parents one more time Harry would stab him in the face.

"Well, my parents did love me. I'm sure they would want me to be happy. I'm happy in Japan. And you don't even know me, how would you know what I want? It really is cruel of you to bring up my dead parents like that too. Imagine if I brought up your dead sister every time I wanted to get you to do something." Yes, Harry did his research on this man.

Silence reigned in the hall. Harry was fairly certain that several of them were close to having aneurysms. He tried not to burst out laughing.

Harry turned back to the official-looking man, who was gaping at him like a fish.

"Since I have yet to hear another objection, I assume it's settled then? Now, I should probably meet my fellow participants and then be on my way. I'm sure my friends and family at home are quite worried about the way I suddenly vanished into thin air. I'd like to return home as soon as possible and alleviate their concerns."

Harry liked the other participants. Cedric was very welcoming of Harry. Krum was somewhat awkward but well-meaning. Fleur mostly ignored him, no doubt resenting his presence. Harry ignored her in turn. He didn't even know about the Tournament. How was he supposed to have cheated?

After that, Harry signed some paperwork that basically cemented his place as the fourth participant. Harry quietly vanished any subtle paragraphs that hinted that his own terms would not be met. He would not be tricked like this. Once that was done, Harry and Bartemius Crouch, the official who told him about the tournament, both took a portkey to Mahoutokoro. Harry was glad to leave. The questions about his sword and whereabouts were getting annoying.

As it turned out, the school has noticed his absence when his roommates noticed he never came back from dinner and were on a manhunt for him. Harry saw Akira as soon as they landed on the school outskirts.

"Harry-kun!" The boy yelled as he ran towards him.

Harry noticed him finger his sword hilt under his uniform.

"We thought you'd been kidnapped! Where have you been?!"

Harry placed a hand on his shoulder in greeting.

"You're not too far off the mark. Sorry to worry everyone. We need to speak to the Headmaster immediately. Is he awake?"

At this point, Akira noticed Crouch and glared at him.

"Who's he?"

Harry sighed.

"A member of the British Wizarding government. It's complicated right now."

Akira nodded, and gestured to the castle.

"Yeah, the Headmaster is awake. He's investigating the wards. Nothing should have been able to yank you out of the castle like that."

Akira led them to where Harry had disappeared. It felt ages ago to him. A middle-aged man was there, his hands on the walls, chanting softly. Akira interrupted him.

"Found him! Sounds like the British captured him. Said he and his new British friend need to talk to you!"

The headmaster opened his eyes, ceasing his chanting as he regarded Harry and Crouch. Harry bowed politely and introduced his companion. The other man nodded.

"Come, Rengoku-San. You and Crouch-San can come with me to my office. We will speak there. Akira-San, round up the search parties and let them know our missing student has been located."

As chaotic as he was, Akira was never one to disobey a direct command from the headmaster, vanishing in an instant after shooting a look to Harry.

The headmaster turned to Crouch.

"We regard our students' safety above all else, no matter their status. I hope you can explain why one of my students ended up in Britain."

The warning in his voice did not go unnoticed by Crouch, who straightened. Harry could see the sweat on his brow.

"I-yes! It's a most dire misunderstanding, I assure you! We had no intention to kidnap Mr. Potter here!"

Harry finally jumped in.

"Crouch-San, if I may, I request that you refer to me by my adopted last name, Rengoku. To do otherwise is quite rude."

Crouch sputtered again.

"O-of course! I apologize!"

The walk to the headmaster's office took ages, at least that's what it felt like to Harry.
Several student saw them and expressed their gratitude that Harry was back.

Something that Harry appreciated about this place was how every student was treated equally. It didn't matter that Harry was "famous." If a no-name, Muggleborn was the one who was lost, that child would have been searched for and missed just as vigorously. The school unity at this place was extremely high. Harry had read about how divided Hogwarts was because of the Houses, how some saw themselves as better than their peers because of what House they were in. And it often even affected the students after they graduated. While Harry could appreciate some good competition, this was taking it too far. There was nothing like that in Mahoutokoro. Here, everyone took care of each other, regardless of anything else. There were bullies of course, but that wasn't the norm.

Harry was jerked out of his thoughts as the headmaster's office door swung open, the relaxing feel of the environment calming him down. The man sat in his office chair, motioning for the pair behind him to follow suit. He leaned forwards.

"Now, if you would please explain the circumstances in which one of my students was kidnapped, I would love to hear it."

Far away, a pair of red eyes with a catlike slit opened. A smirk appeared on a porcelain face. On of his minions had just given him the most interesting information. It wouldn't be long now...

Chapter Text

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 man his 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.

Chapter Text

Strum

Yellow eyes with the Japanese inscription of Upper Three appeared in a strange place. There seemed to be an infinite number of rooms in all directions, seemingly ignorant to gravity. The Demon stood there for a moment as he considered why he might have been summoned.

The Demon Slayers must have managed to kill an Upper Rank!

Clenching his fists in anger at the thought, the Demon leapt off his perch and allowed himself to be taken to the center of the castle, where he would meet with his Master.

Upon his landing, he was immediately greeted... by a pot. He looked to the side as a grotesque Demon emerged from it. The Demon was pale, and had a fishy look to him. His appearance was also odd in that he had two mouths, and they were places where his eyes should be. His eyes were placed in a vertical line, one on his forehead and one where his mouth should be. He also had four, rather short arms. His body ended in a long tail, like that of a mermaid, and it seemed to be connected to the pot he had emerged from.

The Demon, Upper Moon Five, Gyokko, greeted Upper Three with a mix of flattery and malice.

Upper Three, Akaza, paid him little mind as he noticed the presence of Upper Four, Hantengu, and Upper Six, Daki/Gyutaro.
These Demons paid Akaza little mind as Hangengu addressed an incorrect statement made by Gyokko, murmurings of terror in his utterances.

Akaza ignored him as well and addressed the Demon who summoned him here, a woman strumming a biwa, her hair covering her eyes.

"Biwa woman! Is Lord Muzan not here yet?" he grouchily asked of her.

She simply strummed her instrument again as she replied.

"He has not yet arrived."

Scowling, Akaza didn't seem satisfied with her answer, demanding to know the fate of Upper Moon One.

At that moment, another Demon appeared behind Akaza. The words he spoke were laced with poison, his eyes glowing with the Japanese kanji of Upper Two in the lantern light.

It wasn't long before Akaza, angered with the conversation between Upper Two, Douma, and Gyokko, landed a single punch on Douma, demolishing the lower half of his face.

Douma seemed more amused than anything by this, his face healing in the blink of an eye. A psychotic grin appeared on his face as he complimented the strength of the strike.

After a moment, the biwa Demon finally replied to Akaza, saying that she'd summoned Upper One before any of the others.

A moment after the presence of Upper One, Kokushibo, was revealed, Lord Muzan finally arrived.

His presence seemed to suffocate that of the Upper Ranks as they knelt before him.

As they finally looked up, however, they noticed that he wasn't alone. Another Demon was with him, a deranged smile on his face. The kanji for Upper Zero was written in his eyes.

"My, my, Lord Muzan," Daki simpered. "Who is this?"

Lord Muzan let out a sadistic grin.

"This is my most trusted servant, even more trusted than Kokushibo, one of my greatest accomplishments. This is Supai, Uppermoon Zero. I hid his existence from all of you because he has been on a mission for me for longer than most of you have been Demons."

The strange Demon grinned. It was a grin of insanity. His appearance was quite odd. His appearance was white as snow with black stripes winding through both his long hair and his body. A pair of strange black and red earrings adorned his ears, and he wore white trousers and a black vest, a similar outfit to what Akaza himself wore.

Akaza raised a brow.

"And what mission is this, Lord Muzan?"

Lord Muzan grinned.

"As you are all aware, there are humans that possess so-called "powers", that make them think themselves greater than all. Supai was once one of these. When I turned him, he became one of the most powerful Demons in existence almost immediately. I thought that he could conquer the sun. However, this was not so. So, I sent him as spy in this "Wizarding World" in search of one who could serve my purposes. And I believe that we have found him..."

Daki semeed ecstatic as she immediately interrupted him.

"Is that so, Lord Muzan?! Might we know who this is so we can snatch him up for you?"

Displeased with the interruption, the Demon King suffocated them all with the sheer weight of his presence once more. Lanterns exploded under his power as Supai cackled, not bothering to kneel.

"If we wish to keep our plans a secret, snatching him will be no simple matter. He himself is also a Demon Slayer, and the entire Wizarding World seems to be enamored with him."

Lord Muzan seemed to glare at them.

"The fact that you cannot comprehend this simple thing is abhorrent to me."

He took a moment to consider his plan, turning to Supai.

"Have the arrangements been made?"

Supai clicked his tongue, nodding.

"The trophy will alert Nakime here once he touches it, so she can transport the boy here as soon as he does so."

Lord Muzan nodded.

"Very good. And once the boy has served his purpose, you'll be needed to imitate him for a time until we can arrange for his death. Have you arranged for the death of your current body?"

Supai nodded, grinning.

"Thankfully, I've been able to move things up enough that the man's supposed death will come at the right time."

Confused, Daki, ever the ignorant Demon, chose that moment to speak up.

"My Lord? What does he mean?"

Although Lord Muzan didn't look particularly happy about the interruption, he decided to humor her.

"One of Supai's Blood Demon Arts is imitation. This is achieved by devouring a body and then taking on it's physical and mental attributes to a degree. He will not be afflicted with any diseases the human might have had while alive, and is also able to access any strong memories that impacted the brain. This has made him into a most capable spy. He's been impersonating quite the influential wizard for decades now, and has been quite successful."

Lord Muzan let out a cackle.

The other Upper Moons were stunned. With this power, the ranks of the Demon Slayers could easily be infiltrated. Why hadn't this been used to find Ubuyashiki yet?

"Master," Gyokko spoke up, voicing what they were all thinking. "Why have you not used this power to bring down the Demon Slayers? Surely it would be easy to sniff out Ubuyashiki with this power!"

Lord Muzan growled, causing a few lanterns to explode.

"Why are you still so short-sighted? How would Supai be able to avoid the sun on such a mission? He is able to do so now only because he can control every detail. Besides, it is more important for me to be able to conquer the sun. I believe this boy will be able to assist me in doing so."

"Why would that be, Master?" Daki simpered.

Akaza rolled his eyes again.

The Demon King just grinned.

"This boy has done something that no other has. He has survived being attacked with the Killing Curse. This Curse is used by Wizards to initiate instant death. If he can survive that, then it is possible that he can survive being in the sun as a Demon. Now, what we need to do now is lure him into a... diversion, if you will. Gyutaro and Daki, you two will need to set a trap for him in the Red Light District. Kill just enough humans to lure him there, together with a Hashira or two. The goal will be to make him think we're after the Hashira, not him."

Daki dropped to the floor in a deep bow.

"Yes, Lord Muzan. Your wish is our command."

Muzan let out a grin, his eyes glowing a deep, bloody red.

"Soon Harry Rengoku... you will be in my grasp... and I will finally conquer the Sun..."

Chapter Text

Haru's POV
I groaned as I was disrupted from my normal Thursday activities by a summons from Hogwarts. It seems as though my presence was required for a press day. Also, the champions were meant to bring their families with them. My brothers, Sanemi, and Masachika were quickly summoned and we all made their way to Hogwarts using the floo system. Sanemi was scowling at anyone who looked at him, while Masachika simply smiled pleasantly, and Kyojuro and Senjuro were openly gawking at everything.

My principal had placed a spell on the four that allowed them to be able to detect magic just like a normal wizard would, as well as one that would allow them to temporarily speak and understand English for a time. My siblings had only known a little bit when I'd met them, and I was well-enough spoken in Japanese to speak just fine to Masachika-san and Sanemi by the time I met them. I had decided to continue staying fluent in English just in case, and in this case it paid off. Meanwhile, I was enjoying the stares as they registered that I, in fact, had a very real family. Even though Ruka-san and Shinjuro-san's absences were feeling like daggers right now, I looked at the four who did come and realized that I wasn't alone.

The first person to openly greet our little gaggle of oddities was a tall witch, grey hair pulled back into a tight bun. I recognized her from my surprise summons to Hogwarts. She clasped her hands together as she regarded us.

"I am Professor McGonogall. I have been assigned to lead you to where the other champions and their families have gathered for the wand-weighing ceremony. Now, if you would all please follow me..."

She turned on her heel and began to lead us to a large room, where I could see the other champions gathered. I gave a cheery smile and waved. Krum, the Dumstrang student, scowled and looked away. Fleur, the Beauxbatons student, gave me a sharp look. Cedric, the Hogwarts student, smiled and waved before looking back at the Ministry officials at the front of the room.

After what felt like an age, it was my turn, and my wand was carefully handed to an old man who was introduced as a legendary wand-maker. I watched carefully as he examined it, giving a delighted chuckle.

"My my... I see you have... blackthorn! And yes, there is most definitely a warrior's spirit within you, young Harry... and yes! I see we also have a thestral hair core, am I correct? How perfect for one who has survived the Killing Curse..."

I decided not to comment, having heard most of this spiel when I first chose my wand. However, I knew that my thestral core was more related to the fact that I faced death on a near-daily basis due to being a Demon Slayer than me surviving a curse when I was an infant. However, since most people here probably don't know about Demons, I decided to stay quiet for now.

The instant the wand-weighing ceremony (which I did not see the point of at all besides wasting my time) was over, the press interviews began. I very nearly allowed my utter horror and disgust to show as I was approached by a horrid-looking woman. She had obnoxious glasses, an obnoxious outfit, and an obnoxious personality. I hated her immediately. For some reason, she seemed especially interested in me. As soon as she could, she tried to drag me (a minor!) away from my companions. I had never been more grateful for Masachika-san than I was in that moment.

"Haru is a minor," my mentor insisted, pulling me away from the vulture. "As his guardian, I do not permit you to be alone with him."

The woman gasped, seemingly affronted.

"My, my! Aren't you prickly? And so rude as to not refer to Harry with his proper name."

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms.

"Masachika-san is correct. I am a minor, so you cannot be alone with me unless you have his permission... unless, of course, you'd rather face charges for trying to be alone with a minor against his guardian's wishes?" I paused. "Also, I would prefer to be called by my adopted name, Haru."

She huffed in disappointment, but seemed to get the message and stopped trying to drag me away.

Her bias was even more apparent when she started the interviews. She seemed to almost entirely ignore the others in favor of interrogating me about me whereabouts since I've been in Japan. I was able to answer those questions just fine without mentioning Demons, simply mentioning that I had been adopted by the Rengoku family, but Masachika-san was now my guardian as that made training much easier.

"Now then," she smirked at me. "If you were adopted by such loving parents, why are they not here?"

"My adoptive mother is dead and my adoptive father is very sick and cannot move from his bed." I deadpanned, irritated with this line of questioning.

Unfortunately, this information only served to fuel her. She let out the most dramatic gasp I'd ever heard.

"Oh my! I had no idea! To lose both of your mothers... and your father...I'm sure that must be horrible for you to be an abandoned orphan once again!" She faked a sniff, pretending to be sympathetic.

I snorted. I wasn't an orphan.

"I'm not an orphan. I still have my adoptive father and Masachika-san, here. I also have my brothers and Sanemi."

After the worst interview in the history of the world, I'm sure, she finally moved on to the other champions, although she spent a noticeably short amount of time on them. I couldn't care less about what was in the paper tomorrow though. I was ready to go home.

It took ages to leave, mostly because everyone kept trying to hound me, trying to either talk to me like they knew me, or pester me about my supposed "feats". Seriously, did these people not have anything better to do!? Finally, after some welcome assistance from Professor Snape of all people, we were able to escape the crowds and make it back to Mahoutokoro in time for supper.

Since everyone was famished, we all ate at the school. Kyojuro, who had tried to hold in his excitement for my sake (which I was incredibly grateful for) finally started talking everyone's ears off about all the magical stuff he'd seen at both Hogwarts and here. A shy Senjuro started slowly joining in, expressing that he'd really like the moving paintings. I smiled at Senjuro's remark, deciding to see if I could find a good one for his birthday that was coming up in a few months.

Masachika-san didn't have much to say about Hogwarts. His main focus had been keeping me away from the vultures.

Sanemi made a trademark remark about how all the magical stuff was "alright", but I saw how he was eyeing some of the artifacts.

I did have to admit, Hogwarts was pretty impressive. However, it was also severely outdated. There was not a single modern appliance there. Of course, magic usually didn't mesh well with technology, but there were loopholes around that. Case in point, the entire school of Mahoutokoro was outfitted with regular lightbulbs instead of candles. We also no longer used elves for cooking and cleaning, but hired highly competent staff that used both magic and regular washers and dryers, and cooks who used both magic and a score of ovens. These staff were paid very well, and there was enough of them so that they weren't overwhelmed.

Once the others were about return to their Demon slaying duties, Masachika-San pulled me aside for a brief moment. He knelt down closer to my eye level, locking eyes with me.

"What that vulture was saying, calling you an abandoned orphan, is wrong. I'll always be here for you, alright?"

I blinked. I hadn't really given her comment much thought at the time, but now that it came flooding back, I suddenly felt sad. I had technically been through two sets of parents, and I was only 14. I gave into the urge to hug him tightly around the neck, trying not to sniffle. We stayed like for a minute or two, until he finally pulled away, giving me a kiss on the head before he rejoined the others. Holding my hands close to my chest, I smiled. That vulture was wrong.

I was not an orphan.

Chapter Text

Haru's POV
Haru sighed as he entered the tent. He already knew what the task would be thanks to Cedric Diggory, who had cornered him for a brief moment to tell him that they would all be facing dragons. Haru had been a little surprised at his admission, since he didn't think another champion would be so willing to give up an advantage like that, but he supposed that the young man would have felt pity for Haru, considering that he was significantly younger than the other champions, and had not signed up for this of his own free will. Whatever his reasons, it was very helpful for Haru. He ended up spending a great deal of time in his school library, studying whatever he could about the beasts. Haru'd already had a plan, but he knew he'd need a backup or two in case it didn't work.

Haru quietly joined the other champions, ignoring their gazes. He didn't come here to make friends, but to finish the task and be back in time for patrol. He had been given the day off of classes as well as his normal Corps patrol hours, but that didn't mean he liked it. He didn't mind skipping a day of class, knowing he could easily make that up, but he did mind skipping patrol, knowing someone could die if he wasn't there. Haru breathed deeply, keeping Concentration Constant steadily flowing through him.

Soon, Crouch arrived, carrying a small bag with him. He displayed it to them in a dramatic fashion.

"Here lies what each of you must face beyond this tent. Now, we will choose in order of the chosen champions... Krum, you are first."

Krum grunted and reached into the bag, pulling out a small, moving figurine of a dragon. It was a Chinese Fireball dragon. Fleur got the Welsh Green, Cedric the Swedish Short-Snout, leaving the Hungarian Horntail for Haru. Cedric was the first to go, given that his dragon had a number "1" labeled on its neck. Five minutes later, it was Fleur's turn, soon followed by Krum.

Haru kept his breathing calm and relaxed. He could only hope his plan would work. Before he knew it, it was his turn to face the dragon. Once he had been given the signal, he quietly slipped out of the tent and darted towards a small boulder, narrowly dodging a shot of dragon fire. The young Wizard Slayer could hear the shouts from his family (in particular Kyojuro-kun and Sanemi-kun) in the stands at his appearance.

Haru slowly peeked out and made eye contact with the dragon. He began hissing at her, telling her to cease her attacks as he meant her no harm.

"Pleaaaaaseeee, oh greaaaat oneeeee. There issssss an impossssster among your eggsssss," he told her.

The stadium fell silent at his use of Parseltongue, shock radiating through everyone present. Haru mentally rolled his eyes at the whispers as he focused on the dragon. Thankfully, she seemed just as surprised to meet a Speaker and halted her attacks. She flapped her wings hard as she hissed back.

"How do I know you ssssspeak the truuuuuth, oh Ssssspeaker?"

Haru began to explain.

"One of your eggssssss is an imposssster. It issssss not one of your chilllllldren. If you will allow meeeeeee I will remooooove it from amonggggf your honored offfsssssspring. Sssssmell your eggssssss and you will sssssseeee."

The dragon considered him for a moment before returning her attention to her eggs. It didn't take her long to find the fake one, and she let her out a great roar once she did.

"It sssssseeemssss as though you were telling the truuuth, young Sssssspeaker," she hissed at him. "I ssssssssuppossssse you may havvvvvve this egg assssss payment for revealing thissssss decccccception."

She lifted the fake egg in her mouth and gently tossed it in Haru's direction. Not taking his eyes off of her, Haru picked it up, before bowing his thanks and vanishing into the adjoining tent, leaving behind a deathly silent arena aside from the claps (Senjuro and Masachika-Sensei) and hollers (Kyojuro and Sanemi) from his family.

Once Haru entered the tent, all the other champions gave him looks of surprise, obviously not expecting him to have come out of the situation swiftly and unscathed. The other three had at least a couple of burns to show for it. Cedric called him over, waving his hand with a good-natured smile.

"That was good, fast work," he complimented. "How did you do it, if you don't mind sharing secrets? We have all been curious since we heard it go all quiet out there."

Haru shrugged. He didn't care who knew that he was a Parselmouth. He knew this gift was looked down upon in Britain, but that was not so in the rest of the world, especially Japan.

"I'm a Parselmouth," he explained, ignoring how Cedric's mouth fell open, Krum's head snapped towards him, and Fleur just stared. "I didn't know if dragons technically counted as snakes or not, but thankfully it worked out in my favor. I simply told her she had a fake egg, and once she realized I was telling the truth she gave it to me."

Cedric stared at him, aghast.

"H-how did you know if it would work? What would you have done if it didn't?"

Haru shrugged again.

"I had some backup plans in case it didn't. One of them involved turning a boulder into a dog to distract it. I knew I would be fine regardless."

Haru decided not to mention his last resort had been to summon his sword and kill it. He knew that damage to the dragon would have been cruel since the creature didn't do him any undue harm, so he had wanted to avoid that outcome if possible.

Cedric gave him a bright smile.

"You sure are full of surprises... Haru, right?"

Haru blinked. Cedric was the first among the students of Hogwarts to use his desired name. He smiled.

"I'll do my best to keep them coming."

Chapter Text

Haru's POV

I raced through the brush, chasing an incredibly elusive Demon I had encountered on patrol. It has been one week since the first task of the Tournament, in which I had placed third. Not that I really cared or anything. I grinned as I continued to play with the Demon I was hunting. It was weak, and had clearly only killed two or three humans, making it a piece of cake for me. I was in need of some fun, so I took my time in giving the vile thing a slow death.

Wind Breathing... First Form... Dust Whirlwind Cutter!

I sent several slashes towards the Demon, shredding its limbs and back as it tried to escape. I finally leaped up, using the sixth form to finish it off. I immediately turned away, done with the night, my patrol being nearly finished. This proved to be my undoing, as the Demon, angry at being played with, managed to unleash one last attack before it crumbled to dust.

"Blood Demon Art... Ranging Slashes..." The Demon sent a wide range of sharp slashes towards me while my back was turned.

At the last second, I sensed an attack was behind me, immediately unsheathing my sword and dealing with the threat. I sighed once I looked down. I had only partially blocked the attack. There were cuts on the left side of my chest and arm. I grimaced as I pulled my uniform away to examine my injuries better. I turned to my crow.

"Suki, please contact the Kakashi for cleanup and directions to a Wisteria House. I am injured and need assistance."

My beloved crow cawed softly and flew off, obeying my command. It was't long before she returned, the familiar forms of the Kakashi running behind her as she led them to me.

"Thanks, girl," I said as she landed on my shoulder, reaching up with my uninjured hand to gently stroke her feathers. She nipped my fingers in response. Suki was a quiet Kasugai crow compared to some of the other ones I had met, but I didn't mind. She was still a most fantastic companion.

I smiled weakly at the Kakashi as they approached. I had long since sat down, as I felt somewhat dizzy from the blood loss.

"My lord," one of them greeted me. "If it is alright, we will take you somewhere to get you patched up."

I gave them permission to transport me, and tried not to visibly show the pain as one of the Kakashi hoisted me onto his back.

"Where are you taking me, by chance?" I asked. "Is there a Wisteria House nearby?"

The Kakashi shook his head.

"No, I am taking you to a new facility called the Butterfly Mansion. One of the new Hashira is very skilled in medicine, and has opened her Hashira Estate to any injured Demon Slayers in need."

I blinked in surprise. This was news to me.

"A... new Hashira?" I inquired with a tilt of my head, my curiosity momentarily distracting me from the pain of being jostled around on the man's back.

He nodded.

"Yes. She is the new Flower Hashira. I believe her name is Kocho-Sama."

I blinked. Kocho? Like, Kanae Kocho? She was a Hashira already?

I stayed quiet after that revelation, trying to wrap my head around the fact that one of my fellow survivors from Final Selection had allegedly become a Hashira in such a short time. Maybe she encountered a Twelve Kizuki? That's usually how Hashira rise quickly through the ranks.

After a few hours of travel, we made it to a gorgeous Estate. I looked up in awe as the massive number of butterflies all around the garden. The door opened, and another Kakashi, a woman I thought, herded us in.

"Put him in this room, please," she guided my escort.

The man who was carrying me carefully set me down on a soft, Western-style bed. The Kakashi woman who let us in began dressing my wounds.

"Kocho-Sama will be here soon to examine you properly once she returns from her mission. In the meantime, myself and the other Kakashi will look after you and the other patients while you recover."

I bowed my my upright position on the bed.

"You have my thanks!"

Once she left, I took a look around the room, and was quick to realize I wasn't completely alone. In another bed in the far corner, another person slept. I couldn't see much of him aside from the fact that he had shaggy black hair and pale skin. Next to his bed on the nightstand, a haori was neatly folded, showing a green and yellow geometric pattern. I wondered if his personality was as bright as the fabric. Seeing his haori reminded me of my own clothes, which were currently being cleaned. I picked at my hospital outfit. The fabric was soft, a balm on my injuries.

After a couple hours during which I dosed off, the door opened to reveal a familiar face. It was indeed Kanae Kocho, my friend from Final Selection.

"Haru-San," she greeted with a smile as she entered. "It is good to see you!"

I smiled. I was fond of the woman, even if I didn't know her very well. I often felt like I did know her, though. Sanemi-kun exchanged letters with her, and he clearly had a major crush on her from how much he talked about her.

"I heard you made it to Hashira. Congrats!" I greeted her in turn with a bow of my head.

Kanae-San sighed.

"Yes. I had the unfortunate pleasure of encountering Upper Moon Five a few weeks ago. I was able to defeat him on my own, so they promoted me. Now then, Haru-San, please meet my sister, Shinobu-kun. Shinobu will be my assistant while I look over your injuries, if that is alright with you."

I turned to look at the girl who followed after my friend. It was clear that they were sisters, even though Shinobu-San had more of a purple theme to Kanae's pink. She also had a small scowl on her face. I bowed as politely as I could.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Shinobu-San. My name is Haru Rengoku." I introduced myself.

She kept her scowl, but nodded in acknowledgement.

"Pleasure."

As they treated me, I chatted with Kanae-San a bit, asking her more about the Butterfly Mansion, life as a Hashira, and anything else she might have been up to lately. Shinobu-San didn't contribute much during the conversation, except for occasionally snapping at me whenever I made what she deemed an inappropriate reply to her sister. The girl seemed to have a fierce personality and was protective of the other. At one point, I decided to turn my attention to the younger girl.

"So, Shinobu-San," I asked her. "What Breathing Style do you use?"

Shinobu-San scowled at a random corner of the room.

"I use Insect Breathing." She answered stiffly.

I blinked.

"I have never heard of that style before! Did you create it yourself?"

Shinobu-San scoffed.

"Yes. I did." She paused for a second, then continued. "I am too small to cut off the head of a Demon, so I use poisons instead."

I was stunned by the information. Most slayers like her would have given up or become a Kakashi, but she didn't let herself be defined by her limits. I knew that she definitely had the potential to become a Hashira if she was successful in making her poisons. I smiled at her.

"Well, good luck to you then!"

She snapped at me after that, then left once my treatment was finished. I looked at Kanae-San with an amused grin.

"Well, she seems like quite the fiery spirit!"

Kanae-San chuckled.

"Oh yes! Although I often wish she were not so! I do hate it when I see her smile fade..." A faraway look entered her eyes, before she shook it off and turned to me.

"H-Haru-San?" She asked me, looking grave. "Might I entrust a dream of mine to you?"

I blinked in surprise. I didn't think that she would have wanted to talk to me about anything important. I didn't know her super well. Although we do exchange letters, this was the first time I had actually seen her since we had parted ways at the end of Final Selection.

"S-sure." I answered, curious as to what her dream could be.

Kanae-San sat on the bed next to me, and sighed.

"I... I want to find a way to befriend the Demons."

I stared at her in shock. Never had I heard this opinion come from the mouth of another Slayer. And from a Hashira no less! My first instinct was to shout and yell at her for being unrealistic. I had now witnessed too many Demons to count devouring all in their path. I didn't think I could stomach being friends with such evil, monstrous, creatures. I took a deep breath, trying to regulate my breathing, and looked at Kanae-San again. She had her head hung low, the strands of hair she kept in front of her shoulders brushing her thighs. I reached out and patted her hand.

"I am going to be honest with you, Kanae-San. Such a dream seems impossible. What led to this dream in the first place?"

The young woman sighed.

"It-it's a long story... I was on a mission, two months before the one that made me a Hashira. This Demon... it was a little girl. She had no family before she was turned, and lived on the streets, according to what I was able to find out. She was all alone both before and after she was turned. She would lure in other girls around her age, kill them, and then set their bodies up in a cave a few miles from the village. She would make the bodies do all sorts of things- she would give them teacups to "drink" with, dolls to "play" with, berries and leaves to "eat". The cave... it was a... horrible sight, but... also a pitiful one. As she was dying, she cried and said that all she wanted was a friend so she wouldn't be alone. And it got me thinking that... maybe not all Demons choose to be the way that they are. If there's a way to free them from Muzan's control without killing them... maybe they can still have a chance at life!"

I could see her getting even more passionate as she explained what she had seen to cause this change in her. I was more than a little shocked
at what she said. Most Slayers would have seen this situation as even more of a reason to be rid of Demons for good, but for Kanae-San, it invoked feelings of compassion in her, of all things. I sighed, hanging my head.

"I-I don't know what to say, Kanae-San. I... think I understand where you're coming from. I can't promise that I will actively look to be friends with Demons, but I will promise that if there is a Demon that shows signs of being able to resist their bloodlust, I will not kill them unless I know for sure that they are a threat. Is this acceptable to you?"

I knew I didn't have to go this far, but I did consider Kanae-San to be a friend, and if there was a Demon out there who didn't kill, I wasn't sure if I wanted to kill it either. I was not in this business of Demon Slaying for the fun of killing and death, after all. My response caused Kanae's expression to light up, and she hugged me tightly, taking care not to irritate my injuries.

"Thank you so much, Haru-San! This means so much to me!"

I chuckled and hugged her back.

"Glad I could help."

I was unaware of the judgmental stare from behind a crack in the door.

The next day, Kanae-San had returned to her Hashira duties, leaving Shinobu-San in charge of the Butterfly Mansion. When she came to change my bandages the next day, I could sense the hostility from her towards me. Before I could inquire as to what I had done to earn her wrath, she suddenly spoke.

"You shouldn't give her false hope like that," she said bluntly. "You and I both know her dream is a mere fantasy. Giving her hope to the contrary is cruel."

I frowned at the girl. That hadn't been my intention. I had meant what I said. If I found a Demon that could resist human flesh, I would try to spare it.

"Why do you say I'm giving her false hope?" I carefully inquired.

She glared at me, seeming to be even more hostile than the last time we met.

"You promised to spare any Demons that could resist their bloodlust. You and I both know there are no such Demons that exist. And there never will be. By giving this promise, you are implying that such a thing is possible!" She snapped harshly.

I was a little shocked by her attitude, and replied in turn.

"Nothing I do or say is going to change her mind! All I was doing is being a good friend and not making her regret telling me what is obviously one of her deepest secrets!"

Shinobu-San crossed her arms, glaring at me.

"You aren't her friend. You don't have the right to do that."

I stared at her in shock at her words.

"And why do you say that?! What even gives you the right to say that?!"

Shinobu-San glared at me so hard her eyes like were slits.

"All you Demon Slayers are all the same. You gain my sister's trust, then stab her in the back by mocking her dreams to others."

I was shocked by the implied accusation.

"Hey! I never intended to mock her! Do I think her dream is nuts? Maybe! Do I think it's impossible to make friends with Demons? Absolutely! However, if anyone could actually make headway into such a thing, it would be your sister! I think she's nuts, yes, but I also believe in her!"

I stared Shinobu-San squarely in the eyes as I spoke. What I was saying was the truth. From what I could see, Kanae-San's compassion and kindness were boundless. She was also incredibly strong (she was a Hashira after all) and intelligent. If Kanae-San put her heart and soul into finding a cure for Demons, then I had no doubt that she would at least get on the right track. My answer was a clear shock to Shinobu-San, who had clearly not expected me to actually believe in her sister. She finished changing my bandages and left without another word.

A few hours later, while I was sitting there bored out of my mind, a vaguely human-shaped lump curled up on the bed in the far corner stirred. I straightened a little as the lump turned into a teenager. The boy sat up slowly, covering his mouth as he yawned. I gave him a friendly smile, hoping I wouldn't startle him.

"Hello there, roomie! You've been out for awhile it seems." I greeted him.

I was curious about the boy. Neither of the Kocho sisters had said anything about him. He'd also been asleep since I got here. How injured was he? I winced as the boy jumped a little at my greeting, then turned wide eyes to me. His eyes were a deep blue, reminiscent of the ocean's depths. There was no life in them. His shaggy black hair fell about his face and neck, accentuating his features. I frowned at his dead look, concerned.

"You okay, dude? Oh! I haven't introduced myself have I? I'm Haru Rengoku. What's your name?"

I kept my voice calm and gentle, trying to get the other to stay calm and open up. I didn't know if he was a possible victim of a Demon attack or not. The boy chose to ignore my first question, answering the second instead.

"Tomioka Giyuu," was all he said.

I smiled at him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Tomioka-San! Now, if you don't mind me asking, how did you end up... well... here?"

Tomioka-San answered after a moment.

"I was injured from a Demon."

I frowned to myself. That didn't tell me much. All I knew now was his name and that he knew about Demons.

"Are you part of the Corps?" I asked in trepidation.

The boy nodded, then turned away to stare at the wall, ignoring me completely. I pouted. Rude. It was clear that he was not willing to answer any more questions. A peaceful silence descended as I thought about the past day's events. Suddenly, I bolted upright with a yell.

"I HAVE TO LET MY TEACHERS KNOW WHERE I AM!"

Chapter Text

Haru's POV

Before I knew it, Christmas had arrived, and with it, the Yule Ball. I had asked one of my friends, Rin (A/N: pronounced REEN), to come with me as my dance partner for the night. She wasn't a Demon Slayer, but she knew about them and was also somewhat aware of my own situation, and so agreed to help however she could. It helped that she could speak English pretty fluently. As we arrived via floo powder, we received accommodations wherein we could prepare for the Ball ahead of time, as the method of travel soiled our appearances.

Soon, myself and Rin, and the other champions with their partners, were ready to be shown off to the other schools. I mentally rolled my eyes, sharing a look with Rin. Once we went inside to the sound of cheers and the sight of ribbons and Christmas trees, the music began. Rin and I danced gracefully with the other champions, and soon the other Ball participants began to join in. Once the first song was finished, Rin and I went to the reception table, where a feast was awaiting. We both ate and drank our fill, chatting quietly, and paying little mind to those around us.

Everything seemed to be going normally, when a clearly annoyed Severus Snape approached our table, a strange man with him. The stranger had a slightly disheveled appearance, although he had clearly made an effort for the current gathering. They stopped by the table, and Professor Snape rolled his eyes with a sigh as he gestured to the man next to him.

"Rengoku, meet Professor Remus Lupin, of the Care of Magical Creatures. He had something to discuss with you."

With that, Professor Snape promptly left, leaving myself and Rin alone with the man. I looked at my friend, asking her for a moment alone with the stranger. Something told me this was important conversation that needed to be had semi-privately. She immediately nodded and left, making her excuses. I turned back to Professor Lupin, waiting for him to make a move.

The man sat heavily next to me in the seat that Rin had vacated. I raised a brow at him.

"You wanted to talk to me, Professor?"

I didn't bother with introductions. He clearly knew who I was. The professor gave me a sorrowful look, out of place in all the celebrations.

"H-Harry... it really is you... oh and how you've grown..." the man seemed lost as he stared at me.

Feelings of annoyance immediately cropped up. This was probably someone who knew my parents, and maybe myself as an infant. If this was Dumbledore's new way of trying to get me to transfer schools, I wasn't having it. I made to rise.

"I apologize, professor, but I am not the one you know. My name is Haru, not Harry. You must have mistaken me for someone else."

Before I could leave, the man suddenly grabbed my wrist with a cry. I whipped my head around, ready to retaliate, when I saw the look on his face. He looked both contrite and grieving at the same time. He squeezed my wrist gently.

"Harry-Haru, child, I only ask that you listen to what I have to say. Please-" he cut himself off, looking down at the floor. He looked so desperate that I pitied him.

Letting out a giant sigh, and preparing myself to retort at anything he said, I sat down, eyes wary. I waited in silence for him to begin. It took a moment, as many times he attempted to speak, before closing his mouth. Finally, he seemed to have his thoughts in order.

"H-haru... I need to apologize to you."

I blinked, surprised that that's what he led with. What was this all about? The man drew himself in, taking a deep breath.

"My name is Remus, Remus Lupin. I was a... close friend of your parents, especially your father. When your parents passed away and Sirius was imprisoned I... I should have tried to take you in. Instead, I was a coward who lost himself to grief, and never even tried to find where you were... and now I'm learning that you've been in Japan of all places this whole time-" he cut himself off again with a curse.

I stared at him in shock. So... there was another option for my placement? One that (I assume) wouldn't have abused me? I frowned at Professor Lupin.

"Professor... I'm afraid that this information will take me a moment to process. In the meantime, can I ask you some questions?"

The man straightened, clearly relieved that I didn't blow him off completely. I turned to him.

"Can I ask if you know who placed me with my... relatives?"

The man stroked his beard in thought.

"I believe it was Albus Dumbledore who did so. He never told anyone else where you were, for your protection."

Right, for my "protection". I looked at the man.

"Why?"

Professor Lupin blinked, surprised at the question.

"Are you asking why he placed you with your family?"

I scowled at anyone calling them my family and shook my head.

"No. I am wondering why Professor Dumbledore had the authority to place me in their care without any supervision or background checks first. He was the former Headmaster of my parents, right? Not their current Headmaster? Why did he have any authority to place me anywhere? Was this specified in my parents' will?"

The professor blinked at the sudden rush of questions and struggled to answer them all.

"Well... during the last years of their lives, your parents were fighting in the war effort to defeat Voldemort. The Order they were apart of, the Order of the Phoenix, was headed by Dumbledore himself. After they passed, it seemed natural for Dumbledore to be your magical guardian and place you wherever he deemed best."

I frowned. That all sounded very fishy.

"But was it in my parents' will?"

The professor sighed.

"I'm afraid I don't know, Haru. Only Dumbledore was allowed to be present when the will was being read. I heard he sealed it afterwards and declared himself your magical guardian. I never looked into it more than that."

The fishiness increased. I was having strong suspicions that their will was sealed for a reason. A nefarious one.

"Who has access to the will?"

Professor Lupin gestured to me.

"You would, of course. Also, Dumbledore would as your magical guardian. Normally your godparents would as well, but... well... your godmother, Alice Longbottom, is in a mental institution. She and her husband were tortured to insanity. And your godfather-" he cut himself off again, squeezing his eyes shut.

I immediately frowned, sensing something was up.

"What happened to my godfather? Is he dead as well?"

Professor Lupin shook his head gloomily.

"For his own sake, I would wish it. Your godfather, Sirius Black, is currently in Azkaban. He..." the man placed his hands on my shoulders. "He sold your parents out to Voldemort. Got our other friend, Pettigrew, killed as well."

I was more than a little shocked. The fact that one of my parents' closest friends was accused of selling my parents out felt like a slap in the face. I forced myself to compartmentalize my feelings (this was the last place I wanted to have a breakdown in) and think logically. However, something else nagged at me. It seemed a little... I looked at Professor Lupin.

"Did he ever confess?"

He gave a grave nod.

"He said, when Pettigrew confronted him about it, that he might as well have killed them himself."

I frowned. That sounded like a weird confession.

"What about at his trial? What did he say then?"

He frowned.

"There was no trial. The evidence seemed to be clear-cut enough. Plus, no one else could have done it. Your godfather was your parents' Secret Keeper, meaning that only he knew and could reveal their location- your location. This, combined with the fact that he all but confessed it negated the need for a trial. He was immediately taken to Azkaban and has been there ever since."

So he never had a trial? I mused to myself. Yes, this seemed far too convenient. If my supposed godfather was truly acting against me and had any brains, he wouldn't have gone off after Pettigrew. He would have gotten ahold of me and then murdered me. Something did not add up... I turned to Professor Lupin.

"Don't you think it's odd how he never got a trail? How they never bothered to see if they have the right man?"

The professor sighed heavily.

"I... honestly don't know, Haru. All I can say is that it seemed so out of the blue. Your father and godfather were thick as thieves. I never would have imagined the betrayal... I. guess Slytherin blood ran too deep in him after all."

This accusation threw me off guard. I knew about the Black family, having done my own research on the prominent families in Britain. I knew that the Black family had a long history of being in Slytherin. I knew my parents were both in Gryffindor from Dumbledore's ramblings. I supposed that this "Sirius" might have broken family tradition by being in Gryffindor, leading to a friendship with my parents. However, the accusation against his character did not sit well with me. In my research on Hogwarts (know thine enemy and all that), Slytherins seemed to be more cunning and ambitious, not necessarily evil like he was saying. I knew that people of all Houses were capable of evil. Perhaps this is what prompted my next question.

"Are you a werewolf?" I asked bluntly. "Is that why you didn't want to raise me?"

And yes, this seems like a very much out-of-the-blue question. However, the evidence to me was plain as day. This was not the first time I had seen the man. I vaguely remembered him from the first time I appeared at Hogwarts. I also knew the signs. It was close to a full moon and the man was sickly looking, as those with the affliction often were. There was also the very slight slit to his pupils (A/N: I'm totally making this all up lol).

The professor stared at me in open-mouthed shock. I rose from the table, done with the conversation.

"I guess you really are a coward. Someone who loved my parents as they said would have found a way to protect their child instead of abandoning them, and not let something like this hold them back from that."

The man's figure seemed to shrink with my accusations. He looked down, twisting his fingers together like a nervous child.

"However..." I added. "If you are willing to make up for it, I have a request for you."

The man looked up, hope in his eyes as he finally found his voice.

"Yes, I am willing to do anything to make up for what I've done."

I hummed. We'll see.

"Okay then. I want you to do something for me. Albus Dumbledore has a vested interest in getting me to attend this school, as well as to get close to me. I want to know why. And don't spout any crap to me about sentimentality. This man you all hail as wise and great left me in the care of those who abused me thirteen years ago. There's no way he didn't know what was going on, and if he didn't, then that's on him for not bothering to check up on me. So, I want to know the real reasons behind his actions. Think you can do that?"

Knowing this information could be a shock, I waited patiently for him to answer. Once he (visibly) got over it, he gave me a firm nod.

"Of course, cub. I did promise after all. And I can sense that I have much to make up for."

The man suddenly patted my head, then rose, gave me a slight nod of the head, and vanished into the crowd. I was left alone with my thoughts until Rin returned, clearly concerned but not asking questions. I barely spoke for the rest of the night, my mind full of spinning threads.

Chapter Text

Haru's POV
Covered with a large cloak to avoid detection, I stared up at the giant doors of Gringotts Bank. I would literally rather be anywhere else on the planet, but this was needed if I wanted to find out the answers that had been hinted at during the Yule Ball a month ago. I had been unable to chase my suspicions any sooner, as there had been a rise in Demon activity, leaving me with little time to myself. Plus, I had to coordinate with my Headmaster, who had provided the portkey so I could arrive to, and return from, England undetected.

I strode into the bank with purpose, immediately marching towards a highly set desk at the end of the hall. I passed a large number of goblins who were furiously writing on giant stacks of parchment. Once I arrived at the desk, I took off the cloak, revealing my face. I looked directly into the eyes of the goblin attending to the large desk.

"My name is Haru Rengoku, formerly Harry James Potter, and I would like to access my vault, financial records, and my parents' will."

The goblin peered at me over the desk, his scrutiny disturbing to anyone else, probably.

"And does Mr. Rengoku have his key?"

I didn't know I needed a key, although I suppose that made sense. I quickly came up with a reason not that far from the truth.

"I'm afraid it has been lost. I am not sure who was in charge of it after my parents' passing, but it has not been returned to my possession. If you would like proof of my identity, I'm sure a blood test would suffice."

The goblin didn't seem pleased at my admission of my key having been lost, but nonetheless, he gestured to a goblin off to the side.

"Bogrod! Take Mr. Rengoku here for a blood test. If he passes, make him a new key and nullify the other."

I bowed politely to the goblin at the counter, thanking him for his assistance. I turned to the new goblin, bowing to him as well.

"Well met, Bogrod. My name is Haru Rengoku."

The goblin grunted in response, leading down a drearily lit hallway. We eventually arrived to a small office, where two chairs rested on both sides of a desk. At Bogrod's gesture, I patiently sat, watching as the goblin bustled around, grabbing various items- a blank sheet of parchment, a small knife, and a couple potions that I only faintly recognized. He placed the items on the desk, then turned to me.

"Have you been through this process before?"

I shook my head.

"I'm afraid not, Master Bogrod. I have read extensively about the process though."

The goblin didn't seem satisfied, so explained the process to me.

"First, Mr. Rengoku must prick the index finger of his wand hand. Then, exactly three drops of blood must fall onto the parchment. It must be exactly three drops. These potions here are for your identity, proving that you actually are who you say you are. They will be poured on the parchment once the blood has been absorbed into the page."

I nodded.

"You have my thanks, Master Bogrod. I suppose we should begin?"

The goblin wordlessly handed me the small knife. Taking great care, I gently pricked my finger, then held it over the parchment, allowing three drops of my blood to fall onto it. I watched in interest as the blood seemed to disappear into the page, before the parchment was as pale as in the beginning. The goblin opened both potions, pouring them onto the parchment. At once, writing began to appear, proving my identity.

Haru Rengoku, née Potter.
Parents: Lily and James Potter (deceased).
Adoptive parents: Ruka (deceased) and Shinjuro Rengoku.

Although there was clearly more room on the parchment, the writing stopped there. The goblin gave me a look.

"Now, Mr. Rengoku, that your identity has been confirmed, you now have access to any of your records or items that you wish."

I blinked. That seemed surprisingly easy. I looked at the goblin, ready with my requests.

"I would like to see my financial records from the time since my parents' passing. I would also like to see a copy of their will."

The goblin nodded, rising.

"That can easily be arranged."

I nodded in thanks. We left that stuffy office for another, where the goblin told me to wait before he disappeared. He soon returned with a large crate of documents in hand.

"These are the current affairs of all of your vaults. As for your parents' will, it has been sealed by Albus Dumbledore, your magical guardian. It will take some time, but we are working on a loophole to release it to you. It will be ready for you to view in a week."

I frowned at the information, pretending like I didn't know he'd sealed it, and that he was my magical guardian.

"Why did he do that? And when did he become my magical guardian? No one ever told me about that..."

The goblin's ever-present frown deepened at the news.

"He declared himself as such after the death of your parents. No one challenged him. However, you should be able to change your magical guardian since your resident address is no longer in Britain. Would you like to do so?"

I nodded firmly.

"Yes." I thought for a moment. "Please make Professor Akira of Mahoutokoro my new guardian. He's the liaison magical guardian of most Muggle borns and halfbloods at my school. He should be fine."

The goblin grunted.

"It will be done, Lord Rengoku."

"Thank you," I nodded.

Soon, what I had requested had been done. I also reviewed my family's financials and got everything in order. I had a single vault that had enough gold to at least last me until graduation. I also found out that Albus Dumbledore was the one who had the key to my vault, and had been paying himself a healthy sum every month. In a rage, I demanded the key be destroyed, which was immediately done. Then, I finally got to the other business I had.

Finding out what happened to Sirius Black.

Getting into the Ministry of Magic was fairly simple. All I needed was a disguise. I could have used Polyjuice, but buying a wig, contacts, and mustache was a much less painful process. Using a potion to deepen my voice, I managed to pass as an adult.

I slipped into the archives, searching for records of Sirius Black's trial. Sighing, I was about to give up, when I bumped into a woman. She was clearly in her thirties at least, with dark hair and a pleasant smile. She smiled at me as I looked at her.

"Need help finding anything-? Oh! I should introduce myself. My name is Amelia Bones. And you are...?"

After introducing myself with a fake name, I asked her about the trial. She frowned.

"I'm afraid he was never given a trial. It seemed like an open-and-shut case, so they never bothered with a trial. It didn't help that he all-but confessed to the crimes himself."

I thought for a moment.

"What exactly did he say?"

The women sighed.

"I'm afraid I don't remember the exact words. It was well over a decade ago after all. May I ask why you are interested in this topic?"

I shrugged, continuing my acting.

"My son is doing a research paper on the most prominent criminals in Azkaban. He asked me to grab everything I could find on Black while I was here on business."

Lady Bones nodded in understanding.

"I see. Well, unfortunately your son will have to visit the archives himself, as we don't allow the records to be rented out, but you are more than welcome to look over them yourself in case you want to tell your son what he will find."

I nodded.

"I'm sure he will appreciate it."

Lady Bones took me to another part of the archive, one that was clearly meant for criminals of the worst kind. She looked at a nearby index, then we moved down a couple more rows.

"Black... Black... here it is!" She pulled out a rather slim file, the name BLACK, SIRIUS printed on the front.

She handed it to me.

"I know there's not much in here, but like I said, it was an open and shut case. Not a lot of investigation was needed when the truth was so apparent.

"Too apparent," I muttered under my breath.

Something felt wrong about the whole thing. Lady Bones left me to my research, and I poured over the tiny file. And it really was tiny, a single report and some pictures and a newspaper clip. Lady Bones was right. It really seemed like an open and shut case. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. If he really wanted me dead, he wouldn't have gone after Pettigrew. He would have pinned the blame on Pettigrew, taken custody of me, which would have been easy with my godmother clinically insane due to torture, and then arranged an accident for me. Why did he reveal himself when the job (which would have been my death) wasn't done? Everything pointed towards his guilt, but it felt too clean. Too neat. Too perfect. It felt like those white picket-fenced houses in the Dursley's neighborhood. Clean and neat on the outside but ugly on the inside. I closed the file gently, resolving to get to the bottom of this. It felt like someone wanted the man gone, and unable to take care of me, resulting in my placement at the Dursleys.

I left Britain that day with a stone weighing heavily in my gut. Someone had wanted me in that awful house and was clearly willing to go to great lengths to put me there. There was more at work than what I was seeing.

Chapter Text

Haru's POV

I stretched my arms over my head, preparing my body for the second task. The riddle had been quite easy to solve once I realized the screaming that occurred whenever I opened the egg was in another language, possibly an animal or plant language. I had gone to my Knowledge of Magical Creatures professor (totally made that up lol), who told me with amusement that the language was Mermish, and it would be clear to me if I listened to it under the water. I did so, and discovered that the professor was correct. The singing was in Mermish. I memorized the poem and very quickly came to some conclusions.

"Come seek us where our voices sound... We cannot sing above the ground..."

This had sounded like I needed to go to a place where the Merfolk would be- underwater.

"An hour long you'll have to look... To discover what we took..."

It was clear to me that something of mine would be given to the Merfolk that I would have to retrieve. I would have an hour for which to do so. As I put on my diving suit and oxygen tank, I  wondered what they could even take. It's not like I lived in England, everything I truly prized was in Japan. So then, what would they take? Would they take something after I entered the water? Would I be asked to bring something for the Merfolk to hide? Would someone steal something from me to give to them? I didn't know. All I knew was that something precious would be taken for me to retrieve.

I had decided to go with my usual brand of resistance to being involved in this stupid tournament. While there were certainly many magical ways by which I could survive being underwater for an hour, I decided to go with a handy little non-magical device called an oxygen tank. Although I would (carefully) transfigure my hands and feet to be more web-like, to help with my speed, I would breathe using this tank. Given how fit I am as a Slayer, I had no worries about the device bogging me down, and Total Concentration: Constant would allow the oxygen to last even longer as I conserved it. My transfiguration plus the oxygen tank would give me both the speed and time to complete the task quickly. I had no intention of giving them a show, but wanted to simply locate whatever I needed to find, return to the surface, and then be on my way. 

I nearly jumped as someone loudly rapped on the door of the tent where I was getting ready, a familiar loud voice greeting me. I smiled, opening the door to see the familiar face of my adoptive older brother.

"Kyojuro-nii!" I greeted. "I am ready! Is Senjuro nearby? I wanted to greet him before the task."

Kyojuro-kun shook his head, still smiling.

"I am afraid that Senjuro-kun is not here! I believe that he went with Masachika-Sama and Sanemi-san to find a seat!"

In hindsight, that should have been my first clue.

Kyojuro-kun and I chattered happily on our way to the edge of the Black Lake, which was a small lake on the Hogwarts grounds. Whatever I was meant to look for was to be in there. I examined the other three champions as we approached, and they all appeared equally ready. More than one of them gave my oxygen tank strange looks, but no one commended on it. It was nearly time to begin, anyways.

"Farewell, little brother!" Kyojuro-kun threw an arm over my shoulder as he yelled in my ear. "I shall be cheering you on from the stands!"

I chuckled, embracing him back.

"I'm afraid there won't be much to see since we'll be underwater for most of the task, but I do appreciate it! Greet the others for me, will you?"

Once Kyojuro-kun assured me that he was more than happy to greet the others on my behalf, he left, leaving me and the other champions to stand on the lake's edge. As soon as the signal was given, I pulled my oxygen mask over my face, then gracefully jumped, soaring at a height that gave me just enough time to transfigure my hands and feet before I hit the water. This may have seemed like a flashy move, but its purpose was more practical. It's harder to transfigure your limbs if you are in a medium like water, and it would have been harder to jump if I transfigured them beforehand.

Once I landed in the water, I immediately started swimming towards the middle, hoping that that's where the Merfolk were with whatever I was supposed to retrieve. It took me roughly thirty minutes to get there, and when I did, I was nearly beside myself with fury. Four motionless lumps where tied to the bottom of the lake, one of them with very familiar yellow and red hair- Senjuro-kun, my little brother. After checking his pulse and ensuring he was still alive (I would have rained hellfire on anyone who had anything to do with this if he was not), I drew a small knife from a pouch on my leg and cut him free, glancing at the other figures. One of them bore a strong resemblance to Fleur Delacour, one of them was a bushy-haired girl who I recognized as being the dance partner of Krum, and then there was an Asian girl I didn't recognize, but was probably Cedric's girlfriend.

I paused while I held Senjuro-kun over my shoulder. Normally, I would simply take him and leave, but something bothered me... what if one or more of the champions didn't make it in time? Would everyone here drown? Would the Merfolk return them to us once the timer was up? I was sure that whoever organized this tournament probably had some kind of contingency in place, but you never knew...

I ended up deciding to ask a nearby Merman, who was guarding the other captives with a watchful eye. Since I could not speak, I used a spell to write letters in the water. The Merman, once he understood what I was asking, told me that the captives would be returned to the surface once everyone was caught, or once the timer ran out. He also assured me that all of them were alive, simply unconscious, and that they had been spelled in such a way that they wouldn't drown. I still wasn't happy, but agreed to leave the other captives, and took Senjuro-kun up to the surface.

Once we arrived, I nearly sagged in relief as Senjuro-kun let out a gasp of air and immediately regained consciousness. He immediately wrapped his arms around my neck, whimpering. I gently placed my hand on his back, using the other to remove my oxygen mask.

"It's okay... I got you... you're okay..." I murmured to him once I was able to speak.

Still feeling a great amount of fury, I swam to the shore, where a terrified Kyojuro-kun was waiting for me with towels. Masachika-sensei and Sanemi-kun were behind him, giving sharp glares to anyone who so much as looked at us wrong. Once we were finally out of the water, Kyojuro-kun immediately started fussing over us, especially Senjuro-kun.

"I am so sorry!" Kyojuro-kun cried out to his little brother. "I had no idea you'd been taken until I got to the stands and you weren't there with Masachika-Sama! I know you must have been terrified since you are afraid of deep water! I wish I had gone in your place!"

Kyojuro-kun, bless his heart, had an expression of great guilt on his face. Masachika-Sensei spoke up, calm, but I could see the anger in his eyes.

"I too am sorry, Senjuro-kun. I had assumed that you were with Kyojuro-kun to wish Haru-san good luck."

I frowned. How did this happen? Senjuro-kun was normally a very sensible boy, and I had never known him to go off on his own like this, especially in such a crowded place full of strangers. Sanemi-kun seemed to come to the same conclusion as myself.

"Just tell me who I need to kill, kid," he grouched, giving everyone around us nasty glares. "I'll be happy to gut whoever kidnapped you."

Sanemi-kun had once confided in me that Senjuro-kun reminded him of one of his deceased little siblings, and although he didn't often show it, he was very protective of the small boy.

Senjuro-kun sniffled, rubbing his eyes.

"I-I-I'm so sorry!" he burst out. "A l-lady approached me when I was f-following Kyojuro-kun to say goodbye to Haru-nii, and she a-asked me if I wanted to help him with the t-task! I wanted to help y-you so I said yes!" he sobbed into my already soaked shirt.

Kyojuro-kun felt even worse once he realized that Senjuro-kun was effectively kidnapped from right under his nose.

I gently stroked Senjuro-kun's back, comforting him and trying not to show any more anger. I saw Sanemi-kun curse and turn away out of the corner of my eye. I gently pulled Senjuro-kun away from me, stroking his ruddy cheeks.

"A woman? What did she look like?"

Senjuro-kun squirmed in my arms, looking around. Finally, he pointed to a group of people near Dumbledore.

"There! The woman with the bun and glasses!"

I vaguely recognized her face but had no clue who she was. However, since she was sitting near Severus Snape and someone else I was pretty sure was also a Head of House, I knew she was probably a Hogwarts teacher at the very least.

At this moment, cheers rang out around us as another pair breached the surface- Krum-san and the bushy-haired girl. I glanced at the large clock above the stands. Ten minutes left, and two more hostages to go. Fleur had been disqualified before I came up, and she was currently trying to get back into the water once she realized her sister was in there. I felt pity for her, knowing how I felt when I saw Senjuro-kun. Once Cedric-san came up with the Asian girl, the task was completed.

The little girl was thankfully returned to her sobbing sister, safe and sound, as the Merman had assured me. Fleur's reaction had told me that she'd had no idea her sister had been taken, which gave me some relief that I was not the only one who had no idea about this arrangement. However, I was surprised that we were not told. I knew that everyone present would have looked for their person even more vigorously if they'd known the truth.

Which reminded me... I needed to have a few words with the woman who had taken my brother. And then we all needed to get out of here. Once Senjuro-kun had calmed down, I entrusted him to a remorseful Kyojuro-kun, who swore up and down that the smaller boy would not leave his sight. Sanemi stayed with them, deterring anyone who wanted to bother them, while Masachika-sensei and I went to confront the woman who took him.

The woman turned out to be the Gryffindor head of house, Professor McGonagall. She was very apologetic once Masachika-sensei and I berated her with the most passive-aggressive language possible. She assured us that she hadn't meant for her actions to be seen as hostility, as the procedure meant that only those who would be hostages were aware of the situation. Her words only slightly mollified us, and we made her swear to never go anywhere near him for anything related to the task again, and if something like that was needed, to ask either Sanemi or Kyojuro.

I sighed as we finally portkeyed away, feeling endlessly exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I nearly fell straight to sleep once I reached my dorm, for once grateful that I didn't have patrol that night for once. In light of the circumstances, the others agreed to stay at the school for the night, as I wanted to be close enough to Senjuro to keep an eye on him, in case he experienced any side effects from being underwater for that long. He would be able to be teleported instantly to the Butterfly Mansion if that was needed. For the time being, though, I put the task out of my mind and collapsed into a restless sleep.

Chapter Text

Haru's POV 

I was on my way to the owlery. Even though the Japanese Wizards often communicated using telephones (although their use was monitored), other countries still used owls to communicate, so we had to accommodate them. I arrived, asking the manager of the owlery if I had any mail. She smiled and handed me an envelope, and I retreated to my dorm to read it. 

Mr. Rengoku, 

I hope that you are well. This is regarding your godfather, Sirius Black, who, as you know, has been imprisoned in Azkaban for treason, betrayal and murder. Recently, it has come to my attention that his case may not have been handled correctly, and I have found that there is room for doubt as to his guilt. I would like to push forward the paperwork to procure him a proper, public trial. However, I would understand if you would like this trial to be private, considering that this involves your own family. If you could respond to my letter at the earliest convenience, I will be able to get everything in order for you.

With regards, 

Madame Bones 

I considered the letter for a moment. As I had hoped, she had looked back on the case, and had found things wrong with how it was handled. I quickly found a fresh piece of paper and pen, and began to write... 

Madame Bones, 

I appreciate you reaching out to me considering this matter. I agree that the case of my godfather's guilt was handled poorly. I would like for this to be a public event so that those who perpetuated this are not able to hide. I do not wish for any injustices related to his imprisonment to be metaphorically swept under the rug. You have my full permission to proceed with a public trial. I ask that you wait for a day that I can attend. I also wish to meet the man-whether he is proved guilty or not. On the topic of his guilt or lack thereof, I assume Veritaserum will be used? 

With regards, 

Haru Rengoku 

I carefully folded my letter and placed it in an envelope, sealing it. I returned to the owlery and gave it to one of the birds there to send to Madame Bones. I returned to my dorm, finding Akira, Takeo, and Haruto, who I was the closest with at the school given our shared occupation, working on a potions essay together. 

I had worked hard to do well in potions, as it was a skill that was occasionally useful in the Corps. If you ever encountered a wizard or witch who was also in the Corps, then many of the healing remedies could save their lives. I didn't have a natural talent at it, but I worked hard enough to combat my lack of skill with an increase in effort. It was for this reason that Haruto practically threw himself at me when I entered the room. 

"Haruuuuu!" he exclaimed. "I desperately need help with this homework question!" 

I grinned at my friend as he started hounding me about some random potions question. After a tranquil evening of working on homework, it was time to go on patrol. We slipped into our bathroom to change into our slayer uniforms, quickly gathered our swords, and slipped out, joining the other group of slayers that occupied the castle. 

In order to prevent a good percentage of the school population from wearing themselves out with patrol every night, we were split into two groups, each group taking every other day of the week. The occasional senior would go on longer missions, but most patrols were within thirty miles of the castle. The slayers had split this ground into eight sections, with a squad of four slayers assigned per section. We kept the squads of four the same each time so they could learn to work as seamless teams. If these teams were in the same year, they usually shared the same dorm. 

My squad mates were Akira, Takeo, and Haruto, of course. It was the reason why I was so close with them. We had to be in order to have a functioning squad. As we ran in formation, Haruto, as the most experienced of us being a rank Tsuchinoto, while we were rank Kanoto, ran in front. Takeo and I took the middle, running side by side, ready to back Haruto up at a moment's notice. Akira took the rear, watching our backs. This diamond formation made it more difficult for a Demon to do as much damage, even if we were taken by surprise. 

As if so happens, our formation paid off. Haruto jumped to the side with a shout as a Demon leaped at him from behind a tree with a snarl, teeth bared. While Haruto dodged, Takeo and I jumped at Demon, giving him some breathing room. Akira stood at our backs, watching our surroundings closely. It was rare, but it did occasionally happen that two Demons would work together to kill us, with the first serving as a distraction while the other one snuck behind us to take us out. In these cases, the Demons were usually weaker, so we three were capable of handling them. Thankfully, that wasn't the case this time, as no other Demon appeared. 

This Demon, however, was proving to be a struggle to kill. It's Blood Demon Art allowed it to  be able to control the surrounding vines in the forest, and it kept throwing them in our faces and at our feet to trip and restrain us. The only good thing was it appeared to not be able to create vines, just manipulate the ones already present. The bad thing was that this particular part of the forest was infested with vines. If we fought until it ran out of vines, it would take the whole night. Or we'd become exhausted and get eaten. Whatever happened first. 

Total concentration... Wind Breathing... Sixth form... Clear Storm Wind Tree! 

I sliced apart the vines coming at me, calling out to Takeo and Haruto. 

"Takeo! Go for its head! Haruto and I will give you an opening!" 

Both nodded as we charged forwards, hoping to take the Demon out quickly. The creature roared, shooting forwards as many vines as it could. It was clearly angry that we were fighting back, no doubt hoping for an easy meal. I dodged a vine coming at my head, not hearing the slicing sound it made behind me, or the noise of pain. My full focus was on keeping the vines off of Takeo as he charged for the Demon's head. Finally we were close, and Takeo jumped up, sword at the ready as he lunged for the neck. Haruto and I both yelled as we sliced up the vines trying to knock him from his course, a mix of Wind and Water surrounding us. And then, it was all over. Takeo sliced his neck in a single smooth application of the first Water Breathing from, and the Demon fell to the ground, disintegrating into ash. 

I leaned against a nearby tree, panting as I struggled to get back into  Total Concentration: Constant- a skill I'd been trying to master. I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself when a shout jerked me out of my peace. My eyes flew open, head jerking towards where the other three slayers were. Akira had crashed to the ground, barely conscious, clutching his shoulder. His hand and uniform were stained red.

Any tiredness I had was gone in an instant. Haruto and I pulled medical supplies from our uniforms, hastening to his side. My heart pounded in my chest as I prayed that I wouldn't lose a squad member tonight. Takeo guarded our backs as we treated our comrade. 

"Haru! Get the bandages ready and grab a cream that will help the blood clot. I'll apply the antiseptic and pressure to help staunch the bloodflow."

Akira let out a wordless, pained noise, thrashing his head in pain as he finally lost consciousness. Still feeling slightly numb and speechless, I nodded, trying not to panic. Our squad had been lucky in that we had never lost a member before. Most squads had lost at least one. I prayed that our luck would hold out. As Haruto pulled off his haori, pressing it against the injury-a deep cut that sliced down the back of his shoulder, I searched for the cream that was specifically given to slayers for situations like this. The wound wasn't necessarily a fatal one, but the blood kept pouring out so we needed the injury to close up before the blood loss became fatal. 

With slightly shaky hands I applied the cream to the injury, trying not to jostle Haruto from where he was applying pressure. Once the bleeding started to slow, I gently held Akira up as Haruto bandaged up his shoulder. Once that was done, Takeo and I lifted him up before starting back towards the school. With one of us severely injured, it would do us no good to get ambushed by a Demon. 

It took us hours, with each of us rotating who carried Akira and who led the group, to reach the school. We had sent our crows ahead to inform the Headmaster and medical team of the situation. Once the medical team got ahold of Akira, we were left, covered in his blood, and staring up at our Headmaster with concern. 

"Will he be alright?" Takeo asked quietly. 

The man smiled gently down at my friend. 

"Akira-san is in good hands. I believe that he will recover." 

He placed a gentle hand on our heads, ruffling them. 

"You all did well in taking out that Demon. I have a feeling that will you rise through the ranks quickly enough."

I frowned. While it was nice to be able to rise through the ranks every once in awhile, that wasn't my main goal. I just wanted to save people. 

A few days later, I visited Akira. All I heard was that he would live, but he had not been well mentally. He would hardly accept visitors, even his own squad. In the end, he would only allow me to be the one to visit him. I knocked gently on the door, announcing my presence. 

"Emi-Sama? I am here to visit Akira-kun..."

The elderly head nurse of the school smiled at me as I opened the door. Her smile was a little sad. 

"Of course, Rengoku-San. Right this way."

She led me to the bed where Akira was resting. My friend was lying on his good side, facing away from me. I frowned at him in concern, sitting on the empty bed next to his. 

"Akira-kun...? What's wrong? The others and I have been worried about you."

My friend sighed, before finally turning around to face me. I nearly gasped. His eyes were red and puffy. He'd been crying, although his tears seemed to have run out giving that his eyes were currently dry. He sighed at me, opening his mouth, closing it, and then opening it again. He turned to stare at the ceiling. 

"You don't have to explain everything... we just want to make sure that you're okay," I tried to console him. 

He finally looked at me again, opening his mouth as he tried to speak one more time. 

"I... I have to leave the Corps..."

I stared at him in shock. It was rare for slayers to leave the Corps. For many of them, it was either that or becoming a shell lacking in purpose and the will to go on. While some may argue that the Corps is using their grief and anger to their advantage, I knew that many would go nuts without a way to fight back against the creatures of the night. Akira himself had joined out of revenge for the death of his parents, and he was an excellent slayer. I frowned at him, feeling as though there was more to this. 

"What's going on, Akira-kun? This isn't like you..."

My friend sighed, staring up at the ceiling again. 

"The injury to my shoulder and back cut some important arteries and muscles. Even with intensive therapy and potions, I'll never be able to fight the way I did before...I'll only hold everyone back now. The best way to keep from getting one of y'all killed is to step away from the fight..." it appears as though he still had some tears to shed as they trailed down his cheeks. "I just hate how weak this makes me! I can't avenge my parents anymore! I can't climb the ranks until I find the one who killed them! All of this work to get where I am... and a stray vine from a Blood Demon Art takes it all away!"

As he spoke, I felt a sudden rush of horror. That stray vine... I had dodged one, forgetting that Akira was behind me. Since he was guarding our backs, he must not have been paying enough attention to dodge it. As immense guilt filled me, I slipped off the bed, sliding to the floor and bowing, my forehead touching the floor. 

"I would like to apologize, Akira-kun! I believe that this was of my own doing! I dodged a vine during the fight, and I believe that is the one that injured you!"

Akira sighed, placing his good hand on my shoulder. 

"It wasn't your fault, Haru-kun... I should have been paying more attention to the fight behind me. I'm sure that one of the vines would have gotten to me eventually-that Demon Art was super nasty."

I frowned, looking up at him.  

"But you trusted us to have your back, and I failed at that..."

Akira sighed. 

"It was a Demon. It's impossible to be able to 100% protect anyone from a Demon-unless you're a lot stronger than we are, in any case. Just... let it go, okay?"

I continued to frown up at him, not feeling the slightest bit better. Akira sighed, running his good hand through his hair. 

"Well... if you really want to help... you can help me find the Demon who killed my parents..."

I listened closely as he described the creature and promised to keep an eye out for it, and kill it if I ever got the chance. I left the ward feeling both heavier and lighter than I'd felt in a long time. I had technically lost a squad member, even if he wasn't dead, but had been able to give reassurance to said squad member that I would avenge his parents on his behalf if given the opportunity. 

After I told an upset but understanding Haruto and Takeo about Akira, I slipped off to have some time to myself. I soon found myself in the owlery, I place I had been frequenting as I had been anxiously awaiting news from Madame Bones about Sirius Black's upcoming trial. I greeted the woman who cared for the birds, asking her about any incoming mail that might be for me. No doubt assuming it was from a romantic partner, she handed me a crisp letter with a smile and wink. I smiled weakly back at her and retreated to my room to read it. 

Mr. Rengoku,

I am pleased to hear your reply. The trial for Sirius Black will be held on March 26th at exactly noon. While you will not count as a witness due to being an infant during the crimes in question, you will be permitted to attend the trial and speak with the man afterwards. However, at least three aurors must be present by law if he is found guilty. 

With regards, 

Madame Bones

I stared down at the letter. March 26th was about three weeks away. I scanned my calendar for the date. A Saturday. Perfect. I immediately went to the Headmaster's office to get a permission slip to be gone that night, as well as to make sure that my squad and I didn't have patrol... 

"Speaking of which, I wonder who our new squad mate will be..." I mumbled to myself. 

March 26th came quickly. Given the time change, I was to leave Mahoutokoro at seven in the evening of the 26th in Japan's time, making sure to be there an hour early. This time, I didn't come to Britain alone. Because I wasn't coming incognito, I needed to be accompanied by an actual adult. Masachika-Sensei was recovering from some injuries after dealing with a particularly nasty Lower Moon, so he had been assigned to accompany me while he was off duty for his recovery. 

We both calmly walked into the chamber where the trial for my godfather, Sirius Black, was to be held. I did receive some looks and whispers as I entered the room, but I paid them all no mind. I was here to see how the trial played out, speak with my godfather, then leave. I was certainly not here to pander to a group of power-hungry leeches.

Half an hour after Masachika-Sensei and I found our seats, the trial began. Since Madame Bones had been the one to call this trial, she began the session. 

"The trial regarding the trial of Sirius Black, who has been charged with the murder of Peter Pettigrew, the betrayal of Lily and James Potter, and treason by his alleged association with the Dark Lord Voldemort, shall now begin. Let the accused now be brought forth, and given Veritaserum."

Her words were finalized with the bang of her gavel on her desk. In response, a door was opened in the lower part of the chamber, and a scrawny, wild-looking man appeared. He was dragged to a lone chair bolted to the bottom floor of the room, and his hands, feet, and neck were chained to it. One of the guards pulled out a small flask from his pocket, and roughly grabbed the man, who seemed to be Sirius Black himself, by the chin as he forcibly dumped the liquid in the vial down his throat. Once this was done, the guards retreated to the edges of the floor, still keeping their eyes on Black and their hands on their wands, looking as though they expected the man to suddenly break free of his chains and attack them-never mind how malnourished he clearly was. 

After a minute, during which it was confirmed that the Veritaserum was working, Madame Bones began her questioning. 

"Sirius Black, you are here on charges of murder, treason, and betrayal. How do you plead?"

Finally, the man lifted up his head as he attempted to speak. Finally, after a round of violent coughing, his rough voice filled the air. 

"Not. Guilty." was all he said. 

There were many suspicions whispers at his words. Madame Bones regarded him for a moment before she continued. 

"Sirius Black; did you give the location of Lily and James Potter to Lord Voldemort at any time before their deaths?"

Silence reigned again as everyone awaited his answer. Black let out a weary chuckle. 

"No, I didn't give their names to that man. It was Petrigrew, Peter Petrigrew, who gave their location to him." 

His words caused the whispers to get even louder. Madame Bones frowned down at the man. 

"I must ask you to elaborate on your answer, Sirius Black." 

The man leaned back in his chair, the bitter smile on his face clear from where I was sitting. 

"I thought I was too obvious a choice for a Secret Keeper, so I begged James to change it to Peter. I agreed to be the decoy, and we never told anyone, not even Dumbledore. In the end, he turned coat and told Voldemort their location. So, while you could argue that I did kill my friends by changing their Secret Keeper to that slimy rat, I never intended for them to die... I would have traded places with them in a heartbeat." 

Everyone had, by now, stopped all pretenses of trying to be quiet as their chatter filled the chamber. 

"Liar!" One of them screamed. "He's a liar!" 

Madame Bones gave him a severe look. 

"Unless you'd like to personally attest that the Veritaserum is of low quality, then there is no way that Black is lying. Please control yourselves in a manner befitting a member of the Wizengamot." 

Thankfully, her sharp words helped everyone else to calm down and allow her to continue her questioning. 

"Sirius Black, do you or do not deny the charges of the murder of Peter Pettigrew?" 

Black snorted. 

"Murder implies that he's actually dead. I do not deny that I tried. What else was I to do? I'd realized that he was a traitor the moment I heard the news that Lily and James were dead. After making sure Harry would be okay with Hagrid, I confronted him in public like an idiot, and he used the situation to fake his own death. He blew up the street, cut off his own finger, turned into a rat, and escaped down the drain."

Silence filled the room at this revelation. One of the other people in the room who I did not recognize spoke up. 

"I'm afraid I don't understand... Peter Petrigrew has not been registered as an animagus. How can you prove your words?"

Black seemed to frown as the truth forced itself out of his mouth. 

"He's unregistered. I helped him become one." 

Murmurs rang out through the chamber again. 

"I'm sure you know that such actions are illegal?"

The man frowned. 

Black rolled his eyes. 

"Yes, of course I did. However, it was something that needed to be done at the time. Ask Albus Dumbledore for more details if you'd like." 

Finally, they pulled away from the topic of Petrigrew being an unregulated animagus.

"Sirius Black, how do you explain your words at the time of your capture, in which you all-but confessed to the Potters' deaths being your doing?"

The man sighed, expression heavy. 

"I was in a horrible state of mind at the time. I had said that because I believed it to be the truth. If I had stayed as the Keeper, my friends would still be alive." 

Many more frowns were present upon hearing this but no one verbally objected. 

"Sirius Black," Madame Bones spoke again. "Have you ever cavorted with the Dark Lord Voldemort in any way?"

Black spoke again, his voice ringing in the silence. 

"Never..." was all he said. 

Madame Bones banged her gavel on the desk again. 

"The special session now enters a time of deliberation, during which we will examine the evidence presented to us and come to a verdict.  Sirius Black may now be returned to his cell." 

The same guards dragged the man out. I examined him as they did so. His head was hung low, but from his body language I could gauge a sense of relief. Whether it was from simply being able to tell his version of what happened or some other reason I couldn't say. I looked up at Masachika-Sensei. 

"What are your thoughts? Is he guilty?"

My Sensei sighed, frowning at the sight of my godfather being dragged out of sight. 

"If the potion was not tampered with, then I see no reason to doubt his innocence. However, I do have reason to believe that his character might be in question. The way he handled the betrayal of Petrigrew doesn't sit right with me." 

I nodded, sighing. 

"Yeah... I don't know why he went after him alone. It just made him look even worse."

I started paying attention again as Madame Bones called the chamber to order. 

"Before we discuss the evidence, we will take a preliminary vote. All in favor of holding the accused as "guilty"..."

Many of them lifted their hands... about half if I had to guess. Madame Bones was noticeably not one of them. She gave them all a nod. 

"I see. Now then, we will discuss each piece of evidence that Black has presented us with. First is the statement that Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper at the time of the Potters' murder. Would anyone like to attest this as a false claim?" 

Silence reigned for a moment, before one person raised her hand. 

"I do know that Veritaserum is a powerful potion. However, it is not infallible in that it simply makes people tell what they believe to be true, not necessarily what is true. How do we know that Black's time in Azkaban has not skewed his mind? Perhaps he came up with this tale as a way for him to cope with his imprisonment by convincing himself that he was the one who was wronged, and then he told it to himself so many times that he actually believes it to be true?"

Murmurs rose in the chamber again. I myself tapped my chin in thought. The woman's words did make sense. It was possible that this was the truth-that he had warped his mind into believing himself to be innocent. I looked at Madame Bones, who appeared to be deep in thought. 

"Your argument is valid, Madame Secretary. The only way to confirm that this tale is true and not the ramblings of a madman is to find Pettigrew himself-under the assumption that he is alive. Him being an animagus could be confirmed by questioning Albus Dumbledore and seeing if he knows anything about it. This could go a long way to proving Black's innocence or guilt." 

Everyone seemed to approve of this course of action. Madame Bones banged her gavel on the desk for a final time. 

"This special session is now in recess until Dumbledore is brought in for questioning or evidence is found proving Peter Petrigrew is either alive or dead. Dismissed." 

I rose to my feet, stretching my arms above my head. I had known that the trial would likely take up more than one day, but it was still annoying to be proved right. Unfortunately, so much time had passed that a trial was nearly pointless. Any evidence was over a decade old by now. Sensei and I made our way to the entrance, where Madame Bones was waiting. I gave her a look. 

"I know that Black's trial is not completed, but I'm sure that he will be returned to Azkaban in the meantime. Is it alright if I speak with him today instead of at the end of the trial like we agreed on?" 

The woman smiled at me. 

"That should be easy to arrange. Please follow me."

She took us back to her office, where Sensei and I were made to sign a few documents. 

"These are mostly liability forms," she explained. "It means you can't sue us if anything happens to you while in Black's presence."

I nodded, understanding. Sensei, as my acting guardian, signed a few things as well. Once we were done, she took us to the basement where the temporary prison cells were. She led us to the back, where a sign saying "Maximum Security" was on the door. She turned to us after opening it. 

"His guards will be present the entire time. If he gets violent and tries to attack you, please immediately leave the area with your guardian. I will contact you through owl about any future sessions and his sentencing." 

I nodded in gratitude, bowing respectfully. 

"You have my thanks, Madame Bones." 

I entered the room, regarding the man in one of the cells. He was sitting on the ground, looking down at his hands. I cleared my throat to get his attention, and his head shot up as he looked at me. I could see the moment he recognized me in his eyes. 

"Harry..?" He shot to his feet, getting as close to the bars as he could with the chains on his ankles that were connected to a giant ring on the floor behind him. 

"You-you're safe! And look at you! You've grown so much! I'm so happy to see you!"

I frowned at his words. I tilted my head to look at him. 

"Why did you choose to go after Pettigrew? Why didn't you stay and take care of me? Wouldn't that have been what my parents wanted?" 

Something that had bothered me the whole time was that Black didn't have to go after Petrigrew-or at least go after him alone. His recklessness caused him to abandon me. Perhaps he didn't intend to do such a thing, but if he had taken a moment to think about the best course of action, I might not have needed to be rescued from my abusive aunt and uncle. 

Black sighed. He retreated back from the bars and was now leaning against the wall. 

"Well... I'd like to say I wanted to make sure he didn't come after you, too... but I'm not so noble as that. In truth, I was angry and wanted revenge. One of my closest friends turned out to be a traitor and got James and Lils killed. I wanted him to pay." 

I frowned, tilting my head. 

"So you chose revenge over me? Plus, you had to have known that he would pin this on you since everyone thought you were the Secret Keeper. Why didn't you tell anyone else that he was the Secret Keeper? You probably could have told Lupin. I'm sure he would have believed you."

Black sighed. 

"Actually... we had been wondering if Remus himself was the traitor. We couldn't trust anyone else." 

I frowned, nothing that he didn't touch the first question I asked him. 

"I see..." I said. I turned to the door. "I need to go. Goodbye." 

I needed to get out and spend some time thinking. 

Chapter Text

Haru's POV

I stood at the entrance to the maze, body poised and ready. As soon as the whistle blew, signaling that I could enter the maze where the third task would take place, I shot forwards, fueled by Total Concentration: Constant. I went through the halls of the maze swiftly, sword and wand at the ready. I encountered several magical creatures, and dealt with them swiftly. It didn't take me long to reach the middle of the maze. Surprisingly, the Hogwarts champion, Cedric, arrived at the same time as I did. I stared at him then at the cup-our prize. In a rare moment of sentimentality, I offered a solution.

"Want to grab it together?"

The older boy smiled at me.

"Okay then!"

We both dove towards the cup, latching onto it with purpose.

And that's when everything went wrong.

As I landed, I immediately sensed something was wrong. Instinct made me drop to the ground, pulling Cedric with me. A sickly green light shot right above where Cedric had been standing. Releasing him, I rolled to a kneeling position, sword half-drawn. In front of me was a despicable-looking man, who rather resembled a rat. He was carrying a tiny bundle that had an aura that felt familiar for some weird reason.

I was distracted from my observations as he pointed his wand at us again, a spell on his lips. I dove to the side behind a stone structure I only just realized was a headstone.

Was this a graveyard? I mused to myself.

A glance to the side told me Cedric had dived in the opposite direction, and was perched behind his own headstone, wand at the ready despite the fear on his face. He glanced at me through the light of the spells being blasted in our direction.

"Do you think this is part of the test?" he called to me, voice full of unease.

I shook my head.

"That was a killing curse he shot at you earlier. I don't think even the teachers would go that far," I decided.

Cedric nodded, face now showing determination. I ducked down as more spells shot in our direction, darting to the side as my gravestone exploded. I kept moving, occasionally dodging a spell as I looked for an opening. Unfortunately, I was so focused on my enemy in front of me, that I neglected to pay attention to my back. I let out a yell as I was suddenly hit by a feeling of immense pain. I fell to the ground, fighting the urge to pass out as my vision went black. The last thing I heard before I passed out was the sound of a hysterical voice eagerly shouting the incantation of the crutiatus curse.

When I finally regained consciousness, I could only feel agony trickling down every nerve of my body. I kept my breathing even, trying to decipher my surroundings. I heard a total of three voices. One of whom I recognized as belonging to the rat-man, one I was pretty sure belonged to the person who knocked me out (a crazy woman from the sound of it), and a third, high-pitched voice that sent shivers down my spine. It reminded me of some of the higher-ranking Demons I'd heard talk of. I didn't hear Cedric's voice. I hoped he was okay. I could feel that I was bound by my wrists in an upright position, and my sword and wand were no longer in my possession. My legs were bound together. Once I was ready to face the situation, I opened my eyes slowly, acting as if I had just woken up, hitching my breathing to exaggerate the effects.

In front of me was the rat-man, a hideous woman with wild black hair and an insane smile, and the strange bundle from before-still being held by the rat-man. A glance told me that Cedric was lying prone on the ground a distance away. I couldn't tell if he was alive. As soon as it became common knowledge among my captors that I was awake, the high-pitched voice echoed from the creepy bundle.

"Begin the ritual. We will continue now that he is awake."

In that instance, two insane things happened almost at once. The rat-man dumped the bundle into a huge cauldron I had only just noticed. Then, his right hand followed the bundle. Literally. The man chopped it off like it was a totally normal thing to do. Once that happened, he took the same knife he used to sever his arm and approached me, a nasty smile on his face. Heck no. I was not about to lose a limb to this maniac. Putting my weight on my wrists, I allowed my bound legs to swing out, kicking the knife right out of his grip. This was made easier by the fact he couldn't support his grip with his absent hand, and was clearly in pain from what he just did.

Eyes flashing, the witch approached me, keeping away from my feet as she gleefully cackled out a spell.

"That's teach you to behave, you brat!" she hissed at me.

The rat-man grabbed the knife again, and this time, when I tried to move, I was unable to, my body being forced to hold still by her spell. Thankfully, the rat-man didn't dismember me, but he did cut a painful, jagged slice down my forearm, making me let out a pained yell. He returned to the cauldron, flicking my blood into it as he finished the incantation for the ritual. And then, everything got worse again. For some reason, there was a severe pain in my forehead, as if someone was carving into it. I grit my teeth, trying not to let the pain knock me out again as I observed a horrible spectacle.

The cauldron melted, revealing a hideous figure that seemed to be born from the slimy mess. The figure turned into a horribly ugly man with serpentine red eyes. Black wisps formed robes around him. He turned to face the rat-man, hand extended.

"My wand." was all he said.

The rat-man shivered as he handed him the bony white wand he'd used to try and kill Cedric and me. I watched in disgust as the rat-man simpered to him after he healed his hand.

The man turned to me, a manic smile on his face.

"Harry Potter... the Boy-Who-Lived...we finally meet at last."

I frowned at him. I had no clue who this man-monster really, was.

"Do I know you?"

The man let out a shrieking laugh that was not at all humorous, before he suddenly cut it off.

"It has been thirteen years since I've had a body, so allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Lord Voldemort, the one who, tragically disappeared on a dark October night."

The maniac, now identified as Lord Voldemort, the reason I was an orphan, began to slowly circle me.

"Oh, how I have longed for revenge against you, Harry Potter... but not like this, I think."

Voldemort turned to the rat-man, gesturing with his wand.

"Show me your Mark."

I watched, straining slightly against my bonds as the Mark on the man's arm turned black, and then my captors turned their attention to the skies as they waited for...something. Soon, it became evident that more company was coming, as black streaks slithered through the air before landing on the ground in a rough circle and turning into people. Everyone was wearing black robes and grotesque masks, concealing their identities. I watched, feeling like I was observing some sort of show as I witnessed Voldemort intimidate his followers. After he had every last one groveling before him in a simply pathetic manner, he turned to me, manic grin still on his face.

"And now..." he waved his wand around dramatically. "You will all be witness to my revenge."

I braced for pain and death as he gestured towards me with his wand, only to feel my bonds loosen. The sudden rush of blood to my limbs caused me to collapse, but I quickly regained my footing, trying to be ready for anything. I knew I needed to get to the portkey, but I also needed to get Cedric out of there and see if he was alive.

I was distracted from my thoughts as he kicked my wand towards me, not seeming to have even noticed my sword. Or, if he did, he didn't regard it as significant. I supposed it didn't matter. Magic or Breathing Technique, I could, and would, defend myself. Voldemort began to mock me, behaving as if this was a usual duel.

"We must bow to each other before we begin, surely you've been taught. I'm sure your teachers wouldn't want you to forget your manners, would they? Now bow!"

I had no intention of bowing, and immediately shot a cutting spell towards him, hoping to catch him off guard. He blocked it with a shield, a vicious smile on his face.

"Now we begin!"

Time seemed to blur after that. The only thing I could tell was that Voldemort was upset that I was even putting up a fight, instead of letting myself be played with. I may not have had my sword, but I did have my Breathing Technique. Using the footing for some of the forms to help me dodge and attack, I was able to bring the fight to a more even level, despite the massive gap in experience and power between us. Finally, I found enough breathing room that allowed me to get to my sword. I let out a breath as my fingers grasped my sword hilt. Even though I was proficient in fighting with magic, I much preferred having a sword in my hands. In a single breath I had drawn it, the golden streak on the green metal catching the moonlight.

"Wind Breathing: First Form... Dust Whirlwind Cutter!"

I shot forwards, slashing four times horizontally at a blinding speed, before jumping back to get some breathing room. The spells being continuously shot towards me suddenly stopped. A glance told me that Voldemort's eyes were fixed on my sword, and they were filled with rage.

"And just when I thought you couldn't get anymore annoying," he hissed. "A Demon Slayer..."

I blinked in shock. How did he know...?

"Oh yes! I know all about you slayers. I myself am part Demon, courtesy of Lord Muzan."

I was officially shocked now. He truly wasn't lying. Many had never heard his name, even among the Slayers. And what did he mean "part Demon?" What did Muzan do? Did he somehow get ahold of Voldemort and experiment on him? To what ends? I halfheartedly listened as Voldemort continues his spiel.

"Of course, as much as I despised being his servant, I suppose I must thank him in the end. Being half Demon helped me stay alive after all, even when your mother's sacrifice caused me to lose my body. My soul persisted, waiting for this day. And I will not allow even one of you slayer scum to rob me of my revenge!"

His attacks began again. This time I could tell it was for real. He was no longer playing around. With my sword in one hand and my wand in the other, I coordinated my magical and Wind Breathing attacks, staying on the defense until I could find an opening. I did find one to the side where Cedric lay, and an idea hit me. I darted towards him, grabbing him by the back of his shirt as I ducked behind a gravestone. I heard Voldemort yelling at his followers to stay back as I pointed my wand at Cedric's chest. Please work.

"Enervate," I whispered.

Cedric gasped awake. Thankfully, he had only been passed out, not dead. I quickly gave him a sit-rep.

"Voldemort has returned, and many of his followers are also present. I need your help to get out of here."

To his credit, the older boy took the situation in stride, showing bravery and determination. This boy would make a fine slayer, I couldn't help but muse to myself. Those who could keep their heads in such situations were rare. Cedric nodded at me with a smile.

"I'll follow your lead. Let's get out of here."

I shook my head.

"We need to kill Voldemort. He's part Demon. My job is to kill Demons. I cannot leave him alive, especially since he has a following."

Cedric mouthed the word "Demon" for a moment, before he regained himself.

"I understand. You have my support."

At that moment, Voldemort grew tired of being ignored.

"HARRY POTTER!" he roared. "Hiding in the shadows like you are, that's what your parents did, you know. They didn't have the courage to face me!"

I ignored his comment about my parents. Giving into anger would only cause me to make a mistake. I also ignored the part of my brain telling me I know technically had a similar past to many others in the Corps who'd lost their families to Demons. Cedric and I looked at each other and nodded, then we dove out of the cover of the gravestone, fighting in sync as we attacked him. Cedric was clearly more experienced in magical dueling than I was, and I supplemented that with my Wind Breathing.

The battle continued on, as the haze of the fight settled over my vision again as I searched for an opening. There! One of Cedric's attacked caused him to have an opening on his right side! I went for the opening without hesitation, sword gleaming. I managed to slice his shoulder, cutting it deeply. It was an unfortunate miss, as I had been aiming for his neck. Voldemort snarled at me, exposing his fangs.

At least the revelation of his demonic nature made me realize why his aura had felt familiar. He'd felt like a Demon. However, since Demon sightings were nearly nonexistent outside of Japan, I hadn't immediately made the connection.

Somehow, things went from worse to even more worse. Voldemort dropped his wand, growling. He really seemed like a Demon in that moment. He reached out a hand, and somehow I knew he wouldn't be using a normal spell-as far as usual wizards and witches go, at least.

"Blood Demon Art: Serpent Shower."

Suddenly, a massive number of serpents appeared out of thin air, each one hissing with fangs bared. A Blood Demon Art. He had a freaking Blood Demon Art. Because of course he did. I sighed. Why oh why couldn't things be easy for once? Cedric let out a yell of surprise as he shielded himself from them. However, that didn't entirely stop the serpents. Some of them latched onto his shield and began absorbing it's magic, weakening it. Voldemort laughed.

"Do you like my Blood Demon Art, Potter? It's quite fitting, isn't it!"

I grunted as I sliced the serpents that slithered towards me through the air, before giving aid to Cedric, slicing the serpents that were absorbing his shield. However, my actions caused Voldemort to smile, as my nose tickled at a smell. Of course. Poison. I swung my sword with such force that I blew the poison away, making a gust of wind from the single action. Voldemort glared at me.

"I'd like to see you deflect this! Blood Demon Art: Murderous Manipulation."

My vision blanked for an instant, and suddenly, things felt different. Voldemort had seemingly moved in the span of an instant, standing next to me, while Cedric was in front of me. However, something was wrong. What did the Blood Demon Art do? I attacked Voldemort, and instantly noticed something was different. He wasn't fighting in the same as before. He had multiple openings, and only used harmful spells when I got too close. I glanced at Cedric, who was watching the proceedings with a smile, and understood. I jumped back, shouting.

"Cedric! I think Voldemort tricked us! We need to attack him!" I pointed at "Cedric", who I guessed was Voldemort.

"I did think it was weird that Voldemort was suddenly attacking with a sword, but something in my mind refused to question it." Cedric's voice came from the person who looked like Voldemort, and I knew my guess was correct. He'd manipulated us to see each other as our enemies.

The both of us turned back to "Cedric", who soon turned back into a scowling Voldemort, clearly angry that his plan to have us kill each other failed.

"I'll make sure you regret everything, you maggots! Blood Demon Art: Slytherin Statue!"

The earth seemed to explode as a structure rose into the air. It reminded me of what little I knew basilisks looked like. It was made up a countless number of snakes that moved as one, allowing the basilisk to change shape as needed. And that's when I really knew we needed to end this battle.

"Get me an opening, Cedric!" I yelled at the older boy, who now looked like himself.

He nodded firmly, and we readied ourselves for a final attack. Everything became a blur once again as I focused on defending myself from the basilisk, slicing countless snakes into pieces. Cedric guarded my back, making sure none of them snuck up behind me. Finally, I saw Voldemort leave an opening for a single instant. Moving with all the speed my screaming body would allow, I went for his neck. This time, I didn't miss, my blade slicing through as cleanly as ever. He screamed as his head fell to the ground with a thud, his body beginning to disintegrate.

"I hope you are never reborn again," I hissed at him as he vanished.

I took a moment to look at the clearing. The serpents had disintegrated along with their master. Meanwhile, the followers of the Demon I'd just beheaded were regarding with what was celarly shock, despite their concealed faces. The witch who knocked me out before (and didn't that feel like such a long time ago) shrieked at me.

"HOW DARE YOU BEHEAD LORD VOLDEMORT! HOW DARE YOU!"

She flew at me in a rage, her movements fueled by rage, making her uncoordinated and vulnerable. I easily dodged her attacks before slamming the hilt of my sword between her shoulder blades, knocking her out soundly. Once she was down, I gave the others a look.

"Anyone else?"

They disapparated faster than you could blink.

"Cowards!" I called out to them.

I turned to Cedric, who was panting, having dropped to one knee in his exhaustion. I looked at him in concern.

"Are you alright?"

He nodded.

"Yes, Rengoku, I'm fine. Just... exhausted."

I smiled, offering him a hand.

"I appreciate the help. Now, lets get back to Hogwarts before everyone else grows suspicious."

Cedric frowned, sensing that I wasn't saying something.

"What do you mean?"

I gave him a look. He was a good kid, but clearly a little bit of an idiot.

"Do you really think anything about this was an accident? They were waiting for us. They knew we'd come here. There's a spy in one of our schools."

Cedric stared at me in shock, then looked down as he rubbed the back of his neck, hesitation on his features.

"I suppose you're right. Someone must have bewitched the cup to bring us here."

I nodded, glad he was now following.

"We need to go back and find the traitor. I think I might know who it is."

He looked at me in surprise.

"Really?"

I nodded.

"I could be wrong, but it makes sense."

Cedric sighed.

"I suppose I'll trust your judgement. I don't have any better ideas myself. Any ideas on how we should play this?"

I thought for a moment.

"When we get back, I'll enlist the help of some of the professors I trust. Meanwhile, act as though you know nothing, having awoken right after we got back. Tell no one what you've seen here tonight until the spy is apprehended. He might try and use you as a hostage, so it's better if his attention is diverted."

Cedric frowned, but nodded slowly.

"I don't like this, but I'll listen to you. Signal me if you need assistance."

I nodded at the compromise.

"Alright then... lie down. You just woke up, so you'll be too disoriented to answer any questions. Emphasize that. Insist to your father that you need to go to the infirmary as soon as possible."

Cedric laid down, and I placed a hand on him, and then summoned the cup. In an instant, our surroundings changed again. I slumped to the ground, exhausted as cheers rang out around me. Cedric "woke up" and smiled at me.

"It seems as though we've won!"

Cedric played his part to perfection, immediately garnering sympathy among the spectators. Meanwhile, I sought out Professor Snape. Once I found him, I approached him, then pretended to collapse from an exhaustion that wasn't entirely faked. He caught me by the shoulders, and I quietly whispered the name of the suspected traitor to him. He stiffened and nearly jerked, before he composed himself.

"I'll handle it. You. Infirmary. Now."

I shook my head, wanting to see this through.

"No. Let me help. This man is responsible for kidnapping myself and Cedric. I need to see justice carried out for myself."

Professor Snape's glare could cut through a Demon's neck.

"No. Absolutely not. You will go to the infirmary, and you will stay there until you are well enough to travel back to your school. Am. I. Understood?"

My shoulders slumped, my exhaustion catching up to me. I suppose I could trust an adult to handle things just this once...

"Fine."

Looking satisfied, the man left me in the care of Madame Pomfrey, the head nurse of Hogwarts. I immediately noticed how she was similar to many other nurses I had come across-with the sole exception of Kanae Kocho. I laid down on the soft sheets and almost immediately passed out, no matter how much I wanted to stay awake for news of the spy's capture.

I woke up to a severe voice calling my name. Opening my eyes, I saw the familiar visage of Professor Snape regarding my prone form.

"Glad to see you honored you word, Rengoku. It should please you to know that your suspicions were correct. Mad-Eye Moody was the spy. He was actually a man names Barty Crouch Jr., an inmate of Azkaban who recently escaped. He was keeping the real Moody in a magically-enlarged briefcase, and using his DNA to make Polyjuice Potion. He was also the one to enter your name into the Goblet of Fire, causing your injection into the tournament. He has been arrested and returned to his cell where he belongs."

The man gave me a perplexed look as I exhaled at the news.

"May I ask what caused you to suspect him in the first place?"

I told him everything, including my fight with Voldemort and the revelation that he had been half Demon.

Professor Snape quietly listened to my explanation.

"So... it seems as though you noticed a few things that didn't seem to be connected, but when you confronted Voldemort, you connected the pieces. How clever. You would have made a fine Slytherin."

I blinked at the sudden compliment, then smiled.

"Thank you for your confidence, Professor. May I ask when I will be allowed to return to the custody of my school?"

Professor Snape nodded.

"As soon as Madame Pomfrey gives you the all-clear, which should be soon, as long as you follow up with your infirmary until you're healed."

I nodded. That sounded reasonable. I looked at him again.

"One more thing... I'd like Cedric to be the uncontested winner of the tournament. As you know, I never even entered my name into the Goblet of Fire. Cedric is the one who prepared for this. He also saved me from Voldemort multiple times when he were captured. I'd like to give him this."

Professor Snape nodded.

"I'll see what can be done."

Then, he smiled at me, a true surprise.

"You truly are nothing like either of your parents, Haru Rengoku. I'm glad I'm able to see that now."

I smiled back at him.

After the professor left, I was pretty much alone until Madame Pomfrey gave me the all-clear to leave, making me promise to follow up with the infirmary at Mahoutokoro. After what felt like an age, I finally arrived at my dorm, flopping down on my cozy bed and passing out again, despite the nap I took earlier. As I slept, a weight was finally lifted from my shoulders.

The Tri-Wizard Tournament was now complete.

Chapter Text

Haru's POV
Ever since the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, many things had been bothering me. First and foremost was the fact that Voldemort had been a half Demon. It made me wonder all over again how he came to be such a monster. I also wondered how Voldemort was able to survive even after his body was destroyed. As far as I knew, this was beyond rare, even among Demons, who didn't tend to return after their bodies disintegrated. So, if there wasn't a Demonic explanation, there might be a magical one. I decided to go to my Headmaster with these questions.

"Headmaster..." I gently knocked on his office door. "Might I have a moment of your time?"

Once he gave permission, I slipped inside. The Headmaster, a kindly, middle-aged man, regarded me curiously.

"What can I do for you, Rengoku-san?" he inquired.

I sighed, staring down at my hands which were folded in my lap.

"You know how I fought and killed this "Lord Voldemort" at the end of the Tournament, right? Well... some things about that encounter haven't been sitting right with me."

I noticed my Headmaster's brow twitch at the mention of the tournament. He'd given many of the officials in charge of the Tournament an earful for allowing one of his students to be kidnapped.  The revelation of a traitor only made it worse and, well... let's just say Mahoutokoro wasn't on the best of terms with the British Wizarding World right now. The man nodded at me to continue my explanation. I twisted my fingers together as I described what I had seen that night. It was the first time I'd told anyone the full story of what had happened, preferring to only tell those who were curious the bare bones of it. The headmaster nodded at me.

"There may be some truth to your words, young man. It is possible that this "Voldemort" was able to find another way to escape death that doesn't involve being part Demon."

The man abruptly rose and began to pace.

"One of the most dangerous yet most foolproof ways to do this would be to create something called a Horcrux. It involves splitting the soul in pieces through murder, and then storing the pieces of the souls in objects."

I looked at him, knowing he wasn't mentioning this for no reason.

"What makes you think he used a Horcrux?"

The man sighed, bowing his head.

"Mostly because of what you'd told me. The way he survived is consistent. Most everyone else who manages to cheat death are not able to have any semblance of a body unless certain conditions are met. However, in your case, Voldemort had a body, albeit a small and weak one, before the ritual that revived him. There's also the fact that none of the pieces he stored his body in became his new body. Some people tie their souls to clones of themselves, and will bewitch their soul to enter a new one upon death. Voldemort didn't do that, but used a ritual to regrow the original. Since the other soul pieces are smaller, they wouldn't have as much control over their hosts, although they would act as parasites."

As my headmaster continued to explain his reasonings, I felt like some things made sense to me. Once he was done, I rose to my feet.

"Headmaster... I feel an obligation to hunt these Horcruxes down. Voldemort was a Demon, and I must ensure he will stay dead, especially since he is operating outside of Japan. Do I have your support?"

My headmaster smiled grimly at me, placing an encouraging hand on my shoulder.

"Should you ever need support, you only need to ask."

I gasped and then smiled, bowing.

"You have my thanks, Headmaster."

I hesitated, something else occurring to me.

"Headmaster... can living things host parts of his soul as well?"

The older man frowned at me.

"Yes, although the creature usually must be either weak or completely subservient to the one relinquishing the shard of his soul."

I fidgeted.

"I... I think I might be a Horcrux. This whole year, my scar from when he tried to kill me as an infant has been aching. When he revived himself, I thought my head was splitting open from the pain, and that pain only stopped after he was killed. It has become clear to me that my scar is not normal. It is possible that Voldemort accidentally housed a shard of his soul inside of me, perhaps as a last ditch for survival, when he killed my parents?"

The Headmaster was fully frowning at me now, stroking his bearded jaw.

"I... suppose it could be possible," he said slowly.

He turned to the door.

"Come with me. There are spells, albeit obscure ones, that can reveal such things."

My shoulders sagged in relief. I had had the sudden thought that my possible status as a Horcrux would make me untrustworthy in his eyes. I looked at him as we began walking.

"What about a way to remove the soul shard without killing me? Is it possible?"

He frowned at me.

"There... is a spell, but it is considered to be dark magic and is forbidden in most countries, including Japan. It is incredibly dangerous, as the soul shard will be tied to your own soul, and separating the two often causes death in the host. If that is what you truly wish for, we would have to ask for permission from the Minister of Japan."

The information caused a cold shiver to run down my spine. Of course it wouldn't be easy. I shivered visibly, closing my eyes for a moment. I opened them, full of determination.

"If I am a Horcrux, I would like to try the spell. Voldemort is a Demon. I am a Demon Slayer. If I have a shard of his soul living inside of me, I want it gone, no matter the cost."

He stared at me, then huffed and patted my head.

"You idiot teenagers, always trying to get yourselves killed. Alright then, if your theory of being a Horcrux is correct, I will pen a letter to the Minister."

Thankfully, the ritual that detected a foreign soul was much simpler than the one that would be required to remove it. And, it showed that I was correct. I had a foreign soul shard attached to me-or, more specifically, my scar. I winced as the Headmaster prodded at the soul shard with his magic, obvious now that we knew it was there.

"This soul shard has latched onto you like a parasite. It has been draining your magic at a slow pace for over a decade. At this rate, your magic reserves will be completely depleted before you turn thirty, even if your magic continually replenishes itself. Such a phenomenon would result in your eventual death."

I was shocked at the news. I had been carrying a parasite along all this time. One that was slowly killing me. I turned to the Headmaster.

"There should be no question about it now. I want to remove the soul shard."

The man nodded.

"I will send to the Minister immediately. I'm sure he will make an exception due to the... circumstances. Just also be aware that you may require extra training afterwards to ensure your magic adapts to the change without exploding."

I nodded gratefully.

"I will also ask for time off from missions until this is resolved."

Thankfully, both Oyakata-sama and the Minister gave their full permissions for the procedure to proceed. I was taken to the best hospital in the Japanese Wizarding World, with the best doctors on standby in case things spiraled out of control. My brothers plus Sanemi and Sensei were also present, per my request. Masachika-Sensei smiled at my, clearly trying to mask his own nervousness.

"We'll be right here to support you, young Rengoku." Masachika-Sensei smiled at me.

"I'm sure the procedure will be a success!" Kyojuro boomed, although I could see the worry in his eyes.

"Good luck, Nii-chan..." Little Senjuro hugged me tightly.

"You better beat that stupid parasite, brat." Sanemi glared at me, suspicion (mostly of the procedure) in his eyes.

I smiled at them, immediately feeling more confident.

"You have my thanks, everyone."

As the Wizards herded me to a back room for the procedure, I looked behind me, hoping that wasn't the last time I'd see them. As I was laid down onto a table, I heard the sound of voices chanting around me, before everything went dark. For the next however-long I drifted in and out of consciousness. I occasionally heard the sound of someone screaming, and sometimes felt a pain so great, it felt like my very soul was being rendered in two.

Sometime later, I groaned as I opened my eyes. I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. I blinked, squinting as a familiar visage appeared above me, a familiar scowl on his face.

"How dare you scare us like that, you brat?!" Sanemi scolded me. It turns out that it was a close call, and I very nearly did not survive.

Despite his scowl, I could practically taste his worry. I gave him a weak smile.

"T's good to see you too, Nemi..."

He scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back from my face.

"Don't call me that."

I would have been concerned, but there wasn't any heat behind his words. Typical Sanemi to hide his caring nature behind aggression.

And so, I survived the procedure to remove Voldemort's soul shard from my body.

A month later, after I'd recovered, myself, Sanemi, and Kyojuro were having a meeting with Oyakata-sama.

"Master," we chorused, bowing as the man entered, the usual serene smile on his face.

"Please rise, my children. Haru-kun... in your letter, you mentioned that you had a special request to make of me. I wish to hear it."

I straightened at the command.

"Master! It has become known to me that the one known in the British Magical society as "Voldemort" is a Demon. My headmaster has hypothesized that Voldemort created certain devices called "Horcruxes" that enable him to survive even when decapitated. As a Demon Slayer, it is my duty to exterminate all Demons, even those outside of our borders. I wish for your blessing for myself, Sanemi-kun, and Kyojuro-kun to embark on a mission to eradicate this creature."

Oyakata-sama regarded the three of us for a long moment, even as we awaited his answer in a calm silence. Finally, he replied.

"Will anyone from the British Wizarding World be accompanying you?"

I nodded.

"Yes, Master. Professor Severus Snape has replied to my letter regarding this matter. He will accompany us until our task is completed."

Oyakata-sama nodded serenely.

"Very well. You have my blessing to hunt this Demon. The Corps will be redistributed to cover your patrols. Please send word by crow if you should need assistance."

The three of us bowed in unison.

"Arigato, Oyakata-sama!"

*****Time skip a few days*****

Haru's POV
Myself, Sanemi, and Kyojuro slipped into the pub where we were meant to meet Professor Snape, who had offered to help us on our quest to destroy the other Horcruxes. The three of us were wearing cloaks that concealed our identities. Unfortunately, my appearance was common knowledge after the events of the Tournament, so I needed to be careful.

Scanning the dark room, I spotted the familiar thin figure with dark clothes, and approached his table, lifting my hood just enough to reveal my face to him. He nodded at me, and, after exchanging a predetermined code, we sat.

"It is well that you informed me of your situation, Rengoku. As a former Death Eater, I might have some ideas as to where he would hide a Horcrux, as well as what objects are storing his soul shards."

It had been a risk trusting the professor with such a thing since he worked so closely with Dumbledore, who I didn't trust at all. However, given his background, his knowledge could be vital. I never did tell him I was a Horcrux, just that I believed Voldemort had made some. Meanwhile, the professor continued.

"Voldemort had many trusted servants at his disposal. Some of the most prominent supporters of his were the Black, Lestrange, and Malfoy families. These have since intermarried, as you might have guessed, as being purebloods they rarely married outside of their blood status. It would not surprise me if each of these families were entrusted with a Horcrux, knowingly or not. Searching significant places such as Hogwarts, the Ministry, and Gringotts could yield results, as each of those places are key in the Wizarding World. Given the Dark Lord's... pride, I highly doubt that he would place the pieces of his soul anywhere less significant than those." The professor began to share his knowledge.

I considered his words for a long moment.

"What sort of objects would he consider worthy of his soul?"

The man thought for a long moment. I glanced at Sanemi and Kyojuro, who simply watched in silence, having agreed to leaving the detective work to me.

"I believe an item pertaining to Salazar Slytherin is a likely candidate. Voldemort was known for his snakelike... aesthetic, and was a part of his House when he attended Hogwarts many years ago."

I tilted my head, filing the last bit of information away for later.

"What items of Salazar Slytherin's are either unaccounted for or, perhaps, passed down as heirlooms?"

The man thought for a moment longer.

"Slytherin had a certain locket that was rumored to be an heirloom passed down through his bloodline. However, all traces of it have vanished in the last century."

I tapped my chin.

"Still, it's possible he found it. Unless there's another heirloom important to Slytherin, we should consider the locket as a possible Horcrux. Now, was Voldemort the type to only use Slytherin artifacts, or would be use heirlooms from other House Heads?"

The man considered my question with a frown.

"His pride would not limit him to just one House. He would have wanted to dominate them all... it is likely that he created Horcruxes with other heirloom objects. The chief heirlooms from the other Houses were Ravenclaw's diadem, Hufflepuff's goblet, and Gryffindor's sword. However, aside from the sword which resides in Hogwarts, the locations of the other heirlooms are a mystery."

Haru considered his words for a long moment, tapping the wooden table with his index finger.

"So then... we can likely conclude that at least one piece of his soul resides in Hogwarts, the Ministry, and Gringotts. That's three Horcruxes.... do you think there are only three, or would he make more that were entrusted to his followers, and might be outside of these places?"

The man nodded.

"I had considered that as well. I think that there are more than three. Another suspect for a Horcrux is his pet snake, Nagini. It followed him everywhere and was clearly some sort of sentient magical creature. With the way he guarded it, it wouldn't surprise me. Voldemort was a superstitious man as well, and would have chosen a magical number. If there are more than three, there are likely at least seven, the next important number in magical spells."

I raised a brow at the information. After all, it was possible for a sentient being to become a Horcrux - my own situation notwithstanding. And this snake seemed like the type who could become a Horcrux - subservient and weak. Also, the knowledge that were looking for at least three was more than plausible. After all, if I was one, I had no doubt that he had created many more before me. He had bought into a prophecy that said I was meant to destroy him, after all. It makes sense that he would have made a few beforehand. So seven...we had the locket, the diadem, the goblet, the snake, possibly the sword, and me... that's five, maybe six. What could another one be...? Could there be eight if I was an accident? Maybe not, since perhaps he intended to make the seventh one while killing me and my parents... too many questions, not enough answers.

"So... I suppose we have the barebones of a plan. We need to get into each of these places and search for the Horcruxes, possibly identified as a snake, a diadem, a locket, a goblet, and maybe a sword." I turned to the professor. "Given the state of the Wizarding World in the aftermath of the Tournament, where would you suggest searching first?"

The man considered for a moment, stroking his chin.

"I would suggest you search in Gingotts first. Since the Lestranges are fugitives, we might be able to get in. However, we would need permission. Sirius Black is the head of the Black family, and Bellatrix was once a Black, I assume he could authorize our entry."

I could tell it pained the man to say those last words. In the last few months, especially after the Tournament, he had confided in me about many things, especially pertaining to my parents and their friends, and how they treated Severus himself. He explained why he'd hated my father and his friends, but he was getting better at letting some things go, although things were still rough with Sirius and Lupin. However, he had accepted my request for help in this matter without a moment's hesitation despite his hatred of my father. I knew his hatred for my godfather still ran deep, but I was grateful he was willing to consider asking him for assistance.

"Let me handle that," I interjected. "He's been trying to get into my good books ever since he was released, even though I've told him multiple times that his part in my life is over. I do not like giving him false hope, but I believe this is the best way."

The professor frowned, but slowly nodded.

"Very well, Rengoku. I will allow you to take the lead on gaining access to the Lestrange vault. I will search Hogwarts for any likely places it could be."

I nodded and glanced at Kyojuro and Sanemi-kun, who were busy trying to read the tavern menu, Sanemi not knowing how to read at all and Kyojuro only knowing a smattering of English from what I'd taught him over the years. I rose to my feet and looked back at the professor.

"We should meet here again in a week's time to discuss our findings. I wish you luck, professor."

I bowed slightly as my companions followed my lead. The man inclined his head towards me.

"And you, Rengoku."

*****Time skip 1 week*****

The week seemed to fly by. Thankfully, getting Black's approval to enter the Lestrange vault was an easy matter. The man was quite eager to please. Unfortunately, Professor Snape had little luck in locating a possible location of the Horcrux, which clearly irritated him.

"I'm sure it's in a magically hidden place," I tried to reassure him during our planned meeting a week later. "If it was easy to find, someone would have found it already, and you were only given a week to look for it in a remarkably huge castle."

He sighed, leaning back in his chair with a scowl on his face.

"Well, Rengoku... I suppose you have a good point."

I could tell that, despite my admission, the pill was still bitter to swallow. I smiled, holding up a piece of parchment.

"Your hunch about Black paid off, though! He was able to give me a parchment giving access to the Lestrange Vault. Since Bellatrix is a fugitive and Sirius is her next of kin, he has control over it."

The professor nodded.

"It is good that she is still at large. Hopefully she will not discover that we were looking for Voldemort's soul shards. She was obsessed with him like nothing else."

I nearly shuddered at the thought of the crazed woman.

The professor suddenly pulled another surprise out of his sleeve. Literally. He flashed me the hilt of a sword.

"I searched the Headmaster's office while he was absent, and found this... I did some research on it, and it can absorb pretty much any sort of attack. It might be useful in killing the soul pieces we find. I have already tested it for a soul shard and it's clean. Consider it an early birthday gift."

I stared at him. Gift aside, why didn't he bring this up earlier?!

Sometime later, we left the tavern and went to Diagon Alley, where the majestic bank sat at its head. The building was quite beautiful, likely the result of goblin architecture. I didn't admire it much last time since I was so caught up in other things. I could hear Kyojuro's quiet awing as he regarded the structure. Once we entered, I could see that it hadn't changed since I was last there. The same rows of goblins scribbling steadily on their parchments were present, as was the tall podium at the end of the hall, with a single, small goblin perched on an equally high seat. As we approached, I removed the parchment from my coat pocket and addressed him, bowing politely.

"Greetings, goblin-san. My name is Harry Potter. I wish to enter the Lestrange vault. I have been given permission to do so by the head of the Black family, of whom the Lestranges are a part."

The goblin eyed me behind his spectacles, glaring at the parchment I handed him. He turned to the side and called a goblin to escort us, then went back to his writing. The four of us turned to follow the goblin, who led us to a familiar cart.

"Oh dear," I muttered. "I forgot about this part."

Kyojuro and Sanemi eyed the cart with distrust after seeing my expression.

"What is this thing supposed to be?!" Sanemi asked with his trademark scowl.

I looked at them.

"It's safe, I promise. But... you might want to hang your head over the side when we're done."

They stared at me in suspicion, but we were quickly hurried along by the professor.

"We'd best not waste any time here. Let's go."

The ride was as painfully dizzying as I remembered. When we stopped, all of us but the professor were at least a little green in the face. Kyojuro was the worst off, taking a minute to heave over the side of the cart when we stopped. I wondered if his slight hearing loss made this worse for him.

Once Kyojuro recovered, we were left alone at the entrance to the vault with naught but a key and stomach-fulls of angst. The professor entered first.

"Be wary of traps, that woman sure loved her tricks," he warned us softly. "Whatever you do, don't. Touch. Anything."

I nodded back to show we understood, and we entered. The Lestranges were clearly on the rich side, artifacts that must be hundreds of years old decorating its walls, and piles of gold covered the floor. I carefully looked around for anything resembling a goblet that might have belonged to a Hogwarts Founder.

"There..." I heard behind me.

I turned, and Sanemi, who was carefully standing between two large piles of gold, was pointing to a high shelf. There, resting on it, was a beautiful goblet. I carefully stepped closer. From what I remembered, the symbol of the House... it was a beaver. There was an engraving of a beaver on the goblet.

"Professor!" I called to him softly. "I think we found it!"

He glided over to me and stared up at it, exhaling in relief.

"Good... we should destroy it. But be careful. We are allowed to enter the vault, but did not gain permission to remove anything. Destroying it could still set off the security."

The professor removed the sword from his robes and handed it to me.

"This is your mission, Rengoku. Finish the job."

I gripped the sword hilt and nodded firmly.

"Hai."

I spun the sword in my hands a couple times, getting used to the weight. It was a little lighter than my own katana, which would make thing difficult. Sanemi and Kyojuro drew their katanas, and I saw the professor fiddling his wand from the corner of my eye. All of them were at the ready. I breathed deeply, turning back to the cursed goblet. As I focused, I could feel it-a malevolent energy similar to the one I faced that day in the graveyard. I dashed forwards, jumping up as I released a technique.

"Wind Breathing... Seventh Form...Gale... Sudden Gusts..."

With that, I unleashed a technique which allowed me to shred the goblet from the air. It worked, as there was a sudden, ear-piercing shriek. A black mist emerged from the goblet, bleeding into the air around us before dissipating. But that wasn't the only thing that became a problem... one of my slashes just slightly grazed another object, and it began to rapidly multiply. I barely had time to think or move as I landed, replicating objects falling on my head. A solid hand jerked me from under the avalanche, and I saw Kyojuro's mouth moving, even though I couldn't hear him though the racket. Thankfully, I didn't need to. The need to get out was pretty clear. With our combined spells and Breathing Techniques, we were able to escape without getting buried under an endless pile of treasure. As we pressed our backs against the door, panting slightly, I just grinned at my companions.

"Well... that was an adventure! And one Horcrux is down!"

Chapter Text

3rd Person POV

Somewhere in the far reaches of Japan, a young Hashira felt a wave of despair wash over him as a pair of menacing golden eyes with the inscription "Upper Moon Zero" gleamed at him.

Haru's POV

I let out a huff of relief as I used the borrowed Gryffindor sword to finally chop the head off the Horcrux that had proved to be the hardest to kill-Nagini, Voldemort's old pet serpent. She was rather tenacious, and was harder to kill than one would have thought. It didn't help that multiple former Death Eaters tried to protect her as well (although I was pretty sure they didn't quite know what they were protecting). Lifting my sword, I stared at the other Death Eaters, who had been engaged in battle with Professor Snape, Kyojuro, and Sanemi.  The battles had frozen at the now-familiar screech the Horcrux made as it died. A certain aristocratic person removed his mask as he stared at the dissolving serpent (how odd that the Horcruxes dissolved like Demons did when they were killed), a look of shock and horror on his face. He disappeared in a flash, not even bothering to threaten us as the others followed his example.

"Cowards, the lot of them," I heard Sanemi huff. I agreed.

I turned to Professor Snape with a smile. In the fifteen months we'd spent hunting down all six Horcruxes, we had something like an uncle-nephew relationship. While he wasn't able to be there for the whole hunt due to his teaching duties, he made time to help us whenever he was free. He was even able to finally locate the Horcrux located in Hogwarts, and was able to smuggle it out without risking Dumbledore's suspicions.

One day, I opened up and told the man why I didn't trust Dumbledore, and he readily agreed with me, citing how he himself had an abusive childhood, and as such hated anyone who would leave another child in a similar position. I was surprised that he believed what I was saying, but when confronted he told me that not only had Dumbledore done many questionable things during his tenure as Headmaster, but he was able to identify multiple aspects of my behavior that pointed to abuse, explaining that, since his own Snakes often came from abusive families, he often screened for such things. I assured him I wasn't in a place of abuse anymore, even if I was in danger from my job. However, my job was one I had chosen willingly.

I jerked back to the present as the professor nodded at me, approval in his dark eyes. Voldemort was finally defeated for good.

That afternoon, my companions and I spent one last afternoon in Britain before we returned to Japan. I smiled at Sanemi and Kyojuro as they discussed the Corps.

"I wonder if any of our fellow Final Selection examinees have become Hashira yet," Kyojuro commented with a beaming smile as he devoured his fifth bowl of stew.  

During our extended mission, we had cut off any unnecessary contact with the rest of the Corps. With how sensitive our mission was, it would be best to not risk vital information falling into the wrong hands. So, we had no clue of the fates of our loved ones we left behind.

"I'm looking forward to eating Masachika-sensei's cooking again! We've been eating the same slop for too long," Sanemi complained as he picked at his own stew.

I just chuckled, adopting an exaggerated version of the British accent I used to have.

"'at's the Bri'ish for you, Sanemi," I said in the posh tone.

The three of us burst out laughing, the Professor giving us a deadpan expression as he sipped his coffee.

Soon, but not soon enough, we were preparing to Portkey back to Japan. We had sent a message to the Master letting him know our mission was completed, and he had subsequently requested our presence as soon as possible. Once we said good-bye to Professor Snape, the Portkey took us away, dumping us near Mahoutokoro. We were greeted at the gate by my Headmaster, who immediately ushered us to the fireplace. My school had established a Floo network connection with the Ubuyashiki Mansion, although it was only activated when it needed to be used to prevent anyone from, accidentally or not, ending up there. Even when it was used, we made sure only a single fireplace could access it.

As soon as we arrived, more than a little queasy from all the teleportation, we were ushered into the mansion and ordered to take a seat in a small room. It reminded me of when I was first brought into the Rengoku family. I looked at Sanemi.

"The Master seems more eager than normal to hear our report. I didn't realize our mission was that important to him or the Corps. Why do you think he wanted us to come back right away, even making use of a method of travel that was meant to only be used for emergencies?"

Sanemi shrugged.

"Who knows? Maybe he wants to make us Hashira?"

I thought for a moment. That didn't... feel quite right. Surely that could have waited? And we didn't fulfill the requirements of killing fifty Demons after reaching the Kinoe rank or solo slaying a Twelve Kizuki. I supposed that Voldemort could have counted as a Kizuki, but none of us slayed him alone. It was all so strange.

"It would be an honor to be considered as Hashira!" Kyojuro boomed.

This year had been good for my brother, although I knew he missed Senjuro terribly.

It wasn't long before our discussion was cut off by the soft opening of the shoji door, the Master's serene expression revealed. We immediately bowed our heads to the ground, silencing our conversation. The Master waved a hand as he sat, his soothing voice a balm on my anxious mind.

"Please rise, my children. I apologize to have summoned you here so soon after your mission, without even a chance to go home. However, I'm afraid it was unavoidable."

"Please do not apologize, Master!" Kyojuro boomed. "We are more than happy to be of service to you!"

The Master smiled. For some reason, something about it seemed sad.

"I'm afraid I did not summon you three here for a favor... but to impart some news to you. You were not informed earlier due to it's nature. I wanted to deliver it personally to you three."

There was dead silence between us as we processed what he was saying. It was clear that something had happened. I tried to swallow around the lump in my throat, dread rooted deep in my stomach the longer the Master avoided telling us why he summoned us. For some reason, it felt like my ears started ringing. Finally, he sighed, getting to the heart of the matter.

"I'm afraid that the Wind Hashira, Masachika Kumeno, has passed away. He perished following an encounter with Upper Moon Zero."

The ringing in my ears got so loud I couldn't hear anything else except for my heartbeat. I could see Sanemi's mouth moving as he shouted, but couldn't hear a word he said. I didn't hear or really see anything after that. We were led by some Kakushi to the Wind Estate, where Senjuro was waiting (had he been alone this whole time?). I came back to reality the next day. It was like I had been drowning, and suddenly resurfaced.

When I finally resurfaced, I let myself go, crying with my best friend and siblings as yet another parental figure was taken from me. A multitude of thoughts and anxieties flew into my head as I sobbed. What would happen to me know that he was dead? Would I be forced to go back to England without a living guardian? What would happen to us? To little Senjuro, who was too young to pick up a sword? Where would he live? Where would we all live? We couldn't return to Shinjuro. That was asking for trouble. And, most importantly, what Demon did I need to kill for doing this? Who was Upper Moon Zero?

Time passed. I felt like I was shrouded in a haze, barely acknowledging anyone who tried to talk to me. I practically shredded every Demon on my missions, taking more time than I needed to kill them. If I wasn't killing, I was training, honing both my Breathing Technique and my magic, which sometimes lashed out at Demons in my rage, causing them more pain. My rage nearly consumed me. I became the best magical and non-magical dueler in my school, even among the older students. I was the most brutal slayer of my squad, slaughtering every Demon in my path.

In all this time, until now, none of my loved ones had actually died to a Demon. Sure, I had lost my parents to one, but I was so little then, and I had recently gotten my revenge. My parents were at peace. Ruka-san... she died to something I couldn't fight with a sword. I had made my peace with her death. Even though, theoretically, I knew that being a Demon Slayer meant that you could die at any moment, it still hit me like a brick wall. Masachika-sensei had always seemed so... strong, so sure, as if nothing could disturb the flowing wind inside him. He was not weak, I knew that... so the Demon who killed him, this Upper Moon, must have been even stronger. Given that this was the first Upper Moon siting in centuries, it was no surprise a Pillar, even one as strong as Masachika-sensei, didn't walk away from the encounter.

However, despite the logic, my heart refused to accept it. So, I trained and killed and trained again, until I lived and breathed my techniques in a way I never did before. I completely mastered Total Concentration: Constant and Recovery Breathing in record time.

I had barely seen my family and friends in this time. Senjuro had ended up staying at the Ubuyashiki mansion, (Kyojuro and I were shocked that such a thing was allowed, but it was better than him going back to Shinjuro). Sanemi had gone into a rage, becoming even more brutal with his slaying, in a similar way to myself. Kyojuro kept smiling, but it was just a little more forced. I knew that Masachika-sensei's kindness to him had helped heal the wounds given to him by Shinjuro, so his death felt like it opened those same wounds again, with new, sharper ones added in. Like me, this was the first time he had lost a loved one to Demon. And so, the world kept spinning, less bright now that one of it's brightest lights had been snuffed out.

I felt like some of the haze faded one day, and found myself sitting at a bar. The bartender could clearly tell I was underaged, but he sighed and passed me a drink, saying I "looked like I needed it". I didn't pay much attention as I stared at the liquid, temptation swirling in my brain. It'll help...give in... my brain whispered. Just forget... just for a little while... you'll feel better.

I ran out of the bar, leaving my drink untouched on the table.

That was the first time I felt the pull of alcohol, but it wasn't the last. In the next few weeks, there were many times I would have a sudden "awakening", only to find myself at a bar, about to drown myself in alcohol. I ran out every time, refusing to take even a small sip. I knew I would give in if I did. Right now, the only reason I wasn't giving in was because of Shinjuro. I refused to become like him, and at the moment, that desire was stronger than my desire to forget. But only just... each time I awoke, the alcohol was closer and closer to being consumed, until one time I woke up to the cup touching my lips, the smell of it stinging my nose. I threw the cup and ran.

In this time, we gained a new Water Hashira in the Corps-Giyuu Tomioka, the blue-eyed boy I'd met that day in the Butterfly Mansion. It felt like ages ago... So, now we had four Pillars again-Water, Stone, Flower, and Sound. But no Wind... Although, I had a feeling that both Sanemi and myself were approaching Hashira level very soon. I was right.

During a particularly nasty mission, Sanemi found and defeated Lower Moon Five, taking Masachika-sensei's place as the new Wind Hashira. One day, when I had visited Sanemi to congratulate him, he confided something to me.

"I felt like a fake standing there, you know..." Sanemi stirred his tea with a deep frown on his face. "It should be Masachika-sensei there, not me."

I sighed, leaning against him. I felt the same way, but didn't say it. I didn't say much anymore. Not after what happened.

A year passed before my eyes. I was now sixteen. Sanemi was seventeen. Obanai had become the Serpent Pillar after Kanae was also killed by an Upper Moon. She died in Shinobu's arms-or so I heard. I was no numb by that point that I could barely muster up the emotion to be sad at her funeral. Without Kanae's calm to keep him in check, Sanemi raged even more than before.

When Kyojuro became a Hashira, that's when I truly felt it. I was the only one among our "group" who had not reached the rank of Hashira. I sat on the enagwa of a Wisteria House, wondering how my life had come to this-full of so much despair I felt like I could drown in it.

*****One Year Earlier*****

Twang!

The sound of a biwa sounded as two figures suddenly appeared in a huge expanse that was full of seemingly random hallways and door. One of the figures showed deference to the other, who was none other than the Demon King himself. He was there with his highest Upper Moon. He turned to Supai.

"Report," he said.

The Demon gave a deranged smile.

"It appears as though our little trap didn't work. It was wise to trick that idiot Death Eater into luring our prey into a trap. It's a shame he had help and was able to escape. However..." the Demon lifted a sharp claw. "I believe I know of another way to get to him, my Lord!"

Muzan was not pleased with his Upper Zero's failure, although he knew he should have expected it. After all, none of his Demons ever brought him anything but disappointment. He narrowed his eyes at Supai.

"Explain. Now."

The Demon didn't even show any fear at his Master's displeasure.

"I was able to track the Wind Hashira, and it seems as though he is close with our target! If we squish the cockroach (and here, the Demon shattered a piece of wood with his bare hands, as if imitating the sound of bones breaking), it will drive him to seek us out, and then we can lead him right into our trap!"

Muzan considered for a moment, glowering at the deranged Demon. He wanted to question why he didn't slaughter the Hashira as soon as he saw him, but a chance to conquer the sun was more important. He nodded in approval.

"Very well, Upper Zero. Once you have located him, slaughter him. Make sure other slayers escape to tell the tale. When the time is right, our prey will fall into our trap..."

He turned to Nakime.

"Lend one of your eyes to Upper Zero. He will locate the target and use it to spy on him. When the time is right, Harry Potter will be brought to his doom."

The scene seem to fade out as the Demon King let out a pleased cackle.