A/N: To celebrate the fact that I've (finally) finished editing the earlier chapters, here's an update!

Okay, so Kazuya Hatanaka. Does anyone know where else other than chapter 21 he shows up in? I swear, he's the plainest looking guy ever. I want to see if his character design ever changes later on, but I can't be bothered to flip through the manga to find him.

As always, drop a message if you see any glaring problems.

The morning found the Golden trio huddled in a circle by the corner of the living room, heads bent together. Harry was hissing fervently to them, trying to relay everything of the vision he remembered from the night before. The visions had mostly stopped appearing after Harry's battle with Voldemort in the Ministry last year. Voldemort realised the dangers of leaving the link open – but, of course, no matter how hard the Dark Lord tried to portray otherwise, he was only human; he was not infallible, so his control occasionally slipped during times of strong emotion. Harry could still remember the elated feelings transmitted through their link. "I found out what the Professors were hiding. Voldemort has demons on his side, and I think he's planning to send more."

Hermione blinked slowly, trying to wrap her head around the truth of the Winter Ball assault. "You certain, Harry?" the girl wondered apprehensively.

"I'm sure. Voldemort sent demons on us!" Harry said.

There was a continuous flicker of confusion in the depths of Hermione's eyes. "Demons," she repeated slowly, like tasting the word and hating every second of it. Her mind was running miles a minute. "I'm pretty certain it couldn't have been," she finally concluded.

"What the bloody hell are demons?" Ron interjected.

"They're classified as dark creature – particularly strong and thrive on power fights." Hermione mentally flipped through the library of books stored in her memory, gnawing on her lower lip as she thought. "I haven't found any texts detailing anything deeper than that. I think I've read something about specialised Hunters devoted to hunting down demons, so I assumed demons are different from other dark creatures."

"That doesn't explain why you won't believe Voldemort sent them!" Harry insisted heatedly.

"I'm not doubting you, Harry," Hermione promised, placing a pacifying hand on his shoulder, "It just seems so incredible. Everything I've read about them seems to indicate that demons and humans don't get along. Demons are brutish creatures, destroying everything in sight, and they especially appear to enjoy harming humans. I just don't see how Voldemort would manage to get them to listen to him!"

Ron snorted. "Because he's not human either," the teen sniggered.

"Not helping, Ron."

"We would know if the Order let us in on the meeting!" Harry's hand gestured violently to accentuate his point. He turned away from his friends, glaring into the open room like he expected the Headmaster to appear before them on demand. "I can't believe Professor Dumbledore left as soon as it was over."

"He's busy. He has a whole school to run too," Hermione placated, though slightly peeved herself as well, but she kept it in better. "At least they know about the demons. Professor Snape was there - I'm sure he told them about it."

"Good for them!" Harry snarked, "But they're trying to keep me in the dark again! If I didn't get a vision, I wouldn't have known what was going on, and they wouldn't have told me! Again!" The moment his rant started, he couldn't stop. Harry couldn't help recalling his frustration from last year – if he'd only been informed, then he wouldn't have headed out into a trap, and Sirius wouldn't have died. Harry was the one Voldemort was after, so why wouldn't they let him know anything?

"Harry-"

"Because keeping me in the dark worked out so well last time!" the teen snapped hotly.

There was a creak of the floorboards behind the trio. Harry's jaw snapped shut immediately at the foreign sound, whirling around, arm held tense on reflex. Two identical gangly forms invaded his vision. "Harry, Harry, why so red?" George said, grin splitting on his face. "We could hear you from down the hall."

"Our Ronnikins being a bother again?" Fred joined in, slinging an arm around their young brother.

Ron glared at the two, shrugging Fred off. "Oi, you know that's not why!" he retorted, before quickly demanding, "What happened in the meeting?"

Fred waved a hand, speaking airily, "I can't really say, brother dearest."

"Maybe when you're older," George added condescendingly, "Can't have you ickle-kiddies scared of sleeping at night."

"We know what Voldemort's up to," Harry cut in, face set in a serious expression, no mood for the ping pong teasing that defined the Weasley twins. "Demons."

The twins shared a glance. Their faces sobered up considerably at the dreaded word, but they didn't directly confirm Harry's claim. "So then why are you asking us?" they asked instead, eyebrow raised.

"What is Professor Dumbledore doing about it?" Hermione demanded, questions flowing from her lips, clearly on her mind since the topic came up. "The Professors told us they were updating the wards over the Break, but that was about some imaginary creature, not demons. Are they still upgrading the wards? Rather, are there wards against demons? They seem to be a different subset of dark creatures considering there are specialised Demon Hunters against them. And speaking of Hunters –"

"Yeah, yeah," Fred cut in, slapping a hand over her mouth. "We get it."

"So what's going on?" Harry demanded.

The twins paused in unison for a few long minutes. Eventually, they moved to check that the coast was clear and leaned in. "Mad-Eye brought up Hunters," George admitted lowly, "but it seemed like Dumbledore was against it. Apparently he already hired someone else. It was all pretty vague, to be honest," the ginger shrugged.

"Wait – who? Who did he hire?"

"Hire for what?" an innocent voice cut in from behind them.

Harry's heart leapt to his throat. "Merlin!" Ron cried, while the twins clutched dramatically at their hearts.

"Where did you sneak in from?" Fred exclaimed.

By the far end of the living room, Kurama leaned by the frame of the doorway, casually standing as he waited for them to finished. There was a mischievous stretch on his lips. "Sneak? I wouldn't say sneak; I walked here," he said with mirth. "Is there a problem?"

"No!" Harry rushed out quickly, "You just scared us. We were just discussing –"

"- jokes!" Ron finished to Harry's fumbling excuse. "Fred and George own a joke shop."

"They want to hire an assistant!" Harry added.

Kurama gave an undaunted smiled to their rambling words - he seemed so free of suspicion Harry almost felt guilty for lying. "Is that so?" Kurama said, turning towards the twins, "You must be Fred and George. I noticed your pictures at the Burrow. It's nice to meet you. I'm Shuuichi Minamino."

"We heard," Fred grinned, studying the teen, "Harry's spontaneous cousin."

"Spontaneous," Kurama repeated wryly.

"Spontaneous," he agreed. "Never heard Harry had another cousin other than that whale. What else do you call someone who appears out of nowhere?" Fred said, playfully elbowing the other teen.

"That's what I said," Ron muttered under his breath, "Appeared out of nowhere." He shot a glared over at the Japanese teen, to which Kurama courteously ignored. It was a thing of the norm for Ron to shoot retorts at him under his breath by now. It was for both Kurama and Harry's best interest to ignore them.

"Fred and George own Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley," Harry explained to his cousin, talking over Ron's mumbling voice.

"Founded, own, and run," Fred corrected. Kurama vaguely recalled the colourful shop in the Alley, but they hadn't gone in during their shopping trip.

"Couldn't have done it without you, Harry," George added. "Harry here gave us our start-up loan," the man told Kurama gleefully, "Our dreams for a joke shop wouldn't have flourished without him."

The twins playfully tussled Harry's raven locks when the teen smiled bashfully at them, moving away when he then glowered at the action. "And on that note, we should get going," Fred declared, breaking off from the group. "The shop's not going to run itself!"

Harry snagged one of the twins by the robe before he could get away. "Wait, what about … ?" he murmured quietly, cutting himself off at the end and tilting his head pointedly in lieu of any incriminating words, mindful of his cousin standing behind them.

The twins understood his question all the same. "We told you all we knew," they said apologetically. "We don't know who – you should have seen Mad-Eye, he was furious." With that, and a mocking a salute that served as a wave, Fred tugged his robe from Harry's loose grasp and clambered towards the fireplace. The Weasley twins were gone in a flash of green fire.

Kurama smiled mutedly, eyeing the remaining children. He had a fair idea of what transpired in the room before his arrival; somehow Harry knew what the Order of the Phoenix meeting had been about. Kurama didn't know how the kid knew, nor how to feel about the fact that Harry knew. From what Kurama had seen, Harry was the sort of kid who actively sought out trouble. He wasn't sure if knowledge of these new adversaries would keep Harry away from trouble, or head-first deep into it.

After the twin's departure, the four teens made their way to the dining room, eager for breakfast. There were three others already there when they entered. On one side of the long wooden dining table sat a wearily man with greying brown hair, dressed in shabby yet well-kept robes. To his side was a young lady with bubble-gum pink hair, talking animatedly with him, eyes full of life and energy.

A bit further away, slumped in his seat, clearly asleep despite the rowdiness of the dining room was yet another man. He was sloppy looking, reeking of tobacco and cheap booze.

Kurama discreetly scrunched up his nose at his first sniff of the man. Even across the table from him, the smell clouded his senses, washing over him like a dirty alley way.

From the door which led to the kitchens, Mrs. Weasley trudged in. "There you are! Where have you been? Ginny's long finished and headed up to start her homework," she chided the kids.

"Sorry Mum," Ron said for the group as they scrambled their way onto the free chairs.

With a motherly tsk on her lips, Molly flicked her wand and four plates sailed through the air onto the table in front of them. It was only by magic that the bacon, eggs and toast remained anchored the whole journey. "Here you go dears. Eat while it's warm," Molly urged.

Ron dung in immediately and the other three followed suit in a more sedated pace. Molly scuttled back into the kitchen once more before the man sitting with them in the dining room spoke up. "Hello, I don't believe we've been introduced," he said towards Kurama after he murmured a quick, collective Good Morning' to the four teens. "I'm Remus Lupin, and this is –"

"Wotcher. Call me Tonks."

"-yes. And that's Mundungus Fletcher over there asleep," the man finished.

"Shuuichi Minamino," Kurama offered, "Pleasure."

"I didn't know you two were still here," Harry said to the adults after introductions were finished.

"It was getting late last night, so a few of us stayed over. I'm surprise you didn't wake up with all the noise Tonks was making," Remus said with a tease note attached to the end.

"Remus!" the woman cried, giving the man a light push on the shoulder. "I wasn't that clumsy!"

Remus shot her a smile before turning to the kids once more. "So I hear you've just been introduced to the wizarding world," the man said amicably to Kurama, pulling the teen into the conversation, "How's that been for you so far?"

"It's been overwhelming, I must say."

"It must be quite the eye-opener; a whole world hidden from the muggles."

Kurama agreed with a nod, "It was unexpected. Thankfully Harry has been wonderful in helping me get acquainted with the magical aspects."

The raven-haired teen beamed beside him. "I couldn't leave my cousin alone."

There was a startled jolt in Remus and Tonk's expression at Harry's words. "Cousin?" Remus parroted, eyes latching onto Shuuichi's appearance more intently than ever.

Harry looked confused. "Yeah? Why?"

"You – you're Shiori's son?" the man asked Kurama directly, breezing past Harry's question. Remus' voice was coloured with surprise and hints of disbelief.

Kurama studied the older man for familiarity, but found none. "Yes," he finally said, holding his tone even, "Did you know my mother?"

"I haven't heard from her in such a long time. I thought-" The man's eyes lingered on the teen's face, drifting along his outline and slowing around the shape of Shuuichi's eyes and jaws. There was a reminiscent smile on Remus' lips, clearly seeing what he'd been seeking. "James was two things during our juvenile years – a prankster and an over-doting older brother. I heard him gushing on about his sister almost as much as he went on about Lily when he later grew infatuated by her. We met Shiori whenever we went over to the Potter Manor to sleepover as kids."

There was curiosity gleaming in Shuuichi's emerald eyes. "It sounds like there are stories to be told there," he said sincerely, in a subtle urging for tales of Remus' childhood. If he couldn't hear them from Shiori, Remus was second best.

"Oh, yes-" Remus began.

"Wait," Harry suddenly interjected, stretching out the word until it match his confusion. "You didn't know Shuuichi was my cousin?"

Remus glanced over at Tonks, as if suddenly uncertain of himself, before shaking his head. "We didn't know, Harry," he said. "The Headmaster mentioned you had a friend over, but he called him family friend of the Potters." Which, in a way, wasn't exactly a lie – it did, however, downplay their familiarity with each other. Kurama had a feeling it was to keep him as forgettable as possible. A friend of Harry was nothing new, but if news got out he was Harry's cousin, there would be a spotlight over Shuuichi that he couldn't hide from. Clearly Dumbledore took that thought into account.

Beside him, Harry mulled it over to himself. "Was I not supposed to tell you he was family?" the teen finally muttered, grimacing to himself.

Remus could only shrug. "Perhaps. I suppose Albus had his reasons?" he proposed, looking over at Shuuichi to see if he could contribute.

"Safety?" Kurama suggested simply.

Hermione nodded at the idea. "That makes sense. Being family would make you a target, and the less people know of your close relationship with Harry the safer you'll be from Harry's enemies."

"Or maybe he doesn't believe Shuuichi's really family," Ron shot in.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed over.

Tonks blinked. "Uhh-"

"Ignore him," Harry uttered in an exasperated grumble, rolling his eyes. The teens were used to it by now, but Remus and Tonks didn't know. Harry didn't want them to misunderstand. "Ron's just being a prat."

The ginger scowled and turned back to his breakfast. Kurama held a smile on his face. "Anyways," he interrupted steering the conversation away. "I was wondering if it isn't inconvenient for me to go explore around the muggle area? It's the first time I'm in Great Britain," he said, projecting all appearances of an excited tourist.

There was a silent conversation between the Golden trio – mainly consisting of Harry and Hermione shooting warning glances at Ron. Said teen was likely considering adding some remark about sneaking away to pass on information, but wisely held his tongue.

"Well, it's not forbidden …" Remus began.

"We can take him," Harry volunteered. "We know our way around, right Hermione?"

The girl nodded, but Remus frowned over at them. "Perhaps it would be better if either myself or Tonks escorted him instead, Harry."

"Moony!"

"I'm not trying to lock you in, but you are rather recognisable. And neither of you are allowed magic outside of school should anything occur."

"It's just muggle London!"

"Just to be safe."

With a little more arguing, eventually it was decided Shuuichi would leave with Tonks. "How's that any less noticeable?" Harry sulked, gesturing vaguely at their respective hair colours. Shuuichi's hair was bright red and eye-catching on a normal day, but combined with Tonk's pink hairdo, they were doubly vivid.

"Not a worry!" Tonk winked. In an instant her hair flopped into a dull brown colour. "How's that?"

"Incredible," Kurama whispered. He'd wondered why anyone would dare to dye their hair bubble-gum pink of all colours, not to mention how she managed to dye it so evenly across her head. The fact that Tonks could change it so easily explained a lot. "Is it limited to your hair?" the teen asked curiously. Kurama could imagine how useful that skill would've been during his bandit days. He could have easily disguise himself as one of the guards with a single thought and slip in and out without resorting to sneaking in the shadows.

"I'm a metamorphmagus," Tonks explained proudly, and then cheerfully morphed her lips. "I can change my appearance at will," she warbled out between a duck beak.

"A heritage talent?" Kurama asked, mildly disappointed. Even more-or-less retired, a thief would always be a thief at heart.

"So I've heard, but it tends to skip generations often. I'm one of the few alive in a couple centuries – AARGH!" The two were walking out towards the front door as they conversed. Well, had been, up until Tonks' shin had a physical greeting with the troll-leg umbrella stand, as usual.

"Filth! Scum! Begone from here! How dare you sully the house of my fathers -"

Kurama cringed at Walburga Black's shrieking voice.

"Sorry," Tonks said quietly, covering her ears as she stumbled back onto her feet with the teen's help. "Didn't mean to wake her up."

Remus head popped out from around the corner. "Should I come along?" he asked warily, eyebrow raised, walking towards them. He pulled the curtain around Walburga's portrait shut with a vicious tug, then placed a hand on Tonk's shoulder to steady the woman.

Tonks held her hands to her hips. "I don't need a babysitter, Remus."

"I'm not saying you do," the man placated immediately to her sulking words. "I'm just worried."

"Go watch Harry. He's the one we should worry about. That kid can get into trouble anywhere," Tonks said with a laugh. She waved her hands. "Now shoo. I can take care of this!"

Remus chuckled. Then he turned sharply to Shuuichi, brows furrowing. "What's wrong?" Tonks asked.

"Your scent –" Remus started, before trailing off into nothing. He shook his head. "… no, never mind," he concluded dismissively. Yet despite his words, his face still held a contemplative gaze.

The woman leaned into Shuuichi for a loud sniff. "What, he smell bad?" Tonks chortled.

Shuuichi gave a strained chuckle; he had a feeling he knew what the man was referring to. In the dining room, Kurama's own sense of smell had been overwhelmed by the smoke and booze emanating from Fletcher, in addition to the food. Out here, Kurama could smell the scent of something distinctly wolf-y from the shabby looking man. Kurama hadn't delved deep enough into magical creatures to know for certain, but going by what was common, he supposed Remus was something along the lines of a werewolf. A wolf certainly had better senses than humans, and Kurama suspected Remus could detect hints of his inner fox.

It was intriguing, and slightly worrying.

"Ah, no," Remus denied, quickly waving his hand dismissively. "It was nothing. Sorry." Kurama could still see a contemplative glimmer deep within the werewolf's eyes when he spoke, but the man wasn't pushing the issue. Kurama vaguely recalled hatred amongst the wizarding world towards creatures like werewolves – perhaps Remus was the sort of man who knew better than to make wild speculations, even among friends; he knew what it was like to have secrets ousted. Remus was doubly reluctant because he didn't know what that secret was either, expect for a vague scent of something fox-y. "I don't want to keep you," Remus said instead. "Don't stay out too late."

"Yes mum," Tonks uttered, rolling her eyes.

They were on the sidewalk and walking down the street when Tonks spoke up next. "So, where're we headed?" she asked curiously, trying to place a destination to their route.

"The closest muggle school," Kurama said.

Tonks raised an eyebrow at his honest answer. "Really? Bit of a keener, aren't you?" she teased. It was just the start of Winter Break, and Shuuichi couldn't stay away from schools, it seemed. Tonks snorted at the thought. They walked for a little while longer, turning left and right at various crossroads, before Tonks sent an assessing looked over at the redhead. "You don't know where you're going, do you?"

Kurama pulled an apologetic smile for her. "Honestly, not really. I was hoping it wouldn't be that hard to stumble across a school," he murmured guiltily.

"You should've told me! What kind of escort am I if I make you bumble around?" Tonks slid out her wand from the holster under her sleeve, holding it up in the air. Within a second, with a loud bang, a purple triple-decker bus appeared in front of the two. Kurama studied the vehicle warily – either it had been travelling invisible this whole time, or moving too fast for the eye to see. The latter of those possibilities sounded dangerous, to be honest.

Nevertheless, he stepped onto the bus, following Tonks lead when she did so, trusting she knew what she was doing. The enchantments weaved on the bus repelled the gazes of the muggles in the area.

There was a young man standing by the doors as they opened. He was in a purple uniform that matched almost identically with the exterior of the bus. The man, twenty at most, grinned at them and chatted animatedly, mainly at Kurama, likely noticing he was a new face. "My name's Stan Shunpike, I'll be your conductor. That's Ernie our driver. Where 'an we take you?"

Tonks offered a sheepish grin. "That's where we hoped you could help us, Stan. We're looking for muggle schools. Know any?"

Stan headed towards the driver's seat, using the poles on the bus to swing himself quickly around. "Know any, Ern?"

"Got a couple in mind," Ernie grunted back, wasting no time.

Tonks dropped some gold for the two of them then made their way deeper onto the bus. There were armchairs littered across the bus floor. Tonks eyed them, shaking her head before Shuuichi could sit down. "I'd hold on instead if I were you," she warned, grabbing on a pole and ignoring the chairs.

With a bang the bus shot off. Kurama watched as the chairs, clearly not bolted onto the floor, slid towards the back and crash into each other. Tonks laughed. Kurama seriously contemplated getting off and taking muggle transit instead.

Eventually, the Knight Bus skid into a stop, chairs tumbling towards them once more. "Prebend Street! Yer stop!" Stan called out towards the two.

When they stepped off the Knight Bus, there was a large building in front of them, three stories high. The school's coat of arms decorating the one of the side with the words "City of London Academy, Islington" in letter below it.

Tonks glanced briefly at the school. "That work for you?"

Kurama nodded wordlessly, making his way over to it. It would do the job. Kurama entered the building without much fuss, pausing momentarily to tell Tonks he would be out in a few minutes. He quickly charmed the administrators with his amiable personality, spinning lies to learn more about the school and their education program. Kurama listened with half an ear as they explained their sixth form admission policy to him, projecting the appropriate intrigued expression. After a few more inquiries about their curriculum and models of a typical school day, Kurama slipped back outside to Tonks.

"Got what you need?" the woman asked.

"Hopefully," Kurama answered truthfully. He had gone in to research how typical schools in England ran because he highly doubted Hogwarts was a good model for muggle schooling. He'd been putting off writing letters to his mother, for this reason exactly. There had only been so much he could find online, and lately his access to computers had been non-existent. He knew that vague words of wellness wouldn't work forever. Eventually, his family would begin asked specific questions about the school he was attending, and until now, Kurama knew nothing about English schools. Unless, of course, he talked about Hogwarts, but that place was weird by muggle standards, and definitely not a name that produced results if googled, should his parents suddenly decided to try to find out more about the school themselves.

"Do you know any place I can rent a postal box nearby?" Kurama added.

Tonks blinked, surprised at the teen's question. "Owls can travel internationally," she said. "It takes a little longer than usual, but they can make to …" Tonks tapped her lips in thought, "Japan, right?" she confirmed hopefully.

Kurama nodded. "I heard," he said agreeably, "But my family is used to muggle methods than owls. I don't want to scare them." Truthfully, Kurama had a feeling his mother might be used to them, especially if she was a squib. But Kurama was trying to actively hide the fact he was going to a magical school from her, so owls were out of the question. A rented mailbox was necessary in order to acquire a return address from his family to send letters to.

Honestly though, Kurama didn't expect many letters – he'd spend months during the Dark Tournament and on his impromptu 'camping trips' with Yusuke and the gang without contact with his mother, and she never minded before. Still, considering he would be away for the year this time, instead of mere months, she would want to get in touch sooner or later.

Kurama had considered asking Dumbledore to assist in renting one while he was still in Hogwarts, but judging by the way the man was wizard through-and-through, he had a feeling it would cause more complications than he wanted unless he did it in person.

Tonks accepted the flimsy excuse without question. "Okay," she said, and shrugged, "We can look around. Planning to send a letter to your parents soon?"

Judging from his past excursions, Kurama suspected it would be a while before Shiori started worrying. Kurama was a dependable teen; there was no reason why she would need to contact him so soon. Still, better safe than sorry. "As soon as I can rent a box," he told her.

"Alright," Tonks said, "let's get looking!"

.

.

Kazuya Hatanaka got off work at five o'clock sharp, locking away the unfinished documents in his briefcase to take home to finish. That was the good thing about being president of the small company – he didn't have to worry about being forced to stay for overtime. He stepped into the building elevator and out the underground doors without much thought as his body moved on autopilot. He was turning the corner of a cement pillar to where his car was parked when a gruff voice echoed from behind him.

"Kazuya," it said, pronouncing his name in a decidedly English accent.

The man's heart leapt to his chest and his hand whipped out on instinct. In front of him, two mismatched eyes regarded his actions with approval. Kazyuha let out a shaky breath in relief. "Alastor," the Japanese man murmured, lowering his hand.

The Ex-Auror nodded, "Good response; I was afraid you got rusty over the years."

Kazuya chuckled, before looking pointedly at the wand Alastor still had trained on his person. "Do you mind?" he asked warily, changing to English to match the other man.

"That depends," the Alastor countered seriously, "What is your Patronus form?"

"Still paranoid as ever?" Kazuya couldn't help teasing, shaking his head. "That is a trick question, isn't it Alastor?" At the older man's silence, Kazuya continued. "The last time we met, it was in the form of a sparrowhawk. Since my late wife's death and my marriage to Shiori, it is now a marten."

It was with that Alastor's wand lowered as well. "I assumed your Patronus would have changed since your wife's death," the man said with a nod, "If you'd replied with sparrowhawk…" he let the sentence trail off threateningly.

Kazuya laughed at the predictable actions of his old friend. He beckoned the man towards his car a second later. "Shall we talk along the way? My wife is expecting me home."

Alastor eyed the vehicle in contemplation. Kazuya had a feeling he knew what thoughts were whirling through the other man's mind. "It's safe," Kazuya reassured him quickly, ushering the man along. "Unless you feel like walking back," he suggested, knowing that idea was even less desirable. For one thing, Alastor stood out among muggles with his multiple scars, wooden leg, and vivid blue magical eye. At least the man was more proficient than most wizard at dressing appropriately, if that was any consolation.

It took a while before Kazuya finally managed to convince the man into his car and strap on his seatbelt. The man allowed him to drive out of the underground parking lot before Alastor spoke once more. "You're carrying your wand around again?" the Ex-Auror said pointedly, more of a statement than a question.

Kazuya nodded. "I haven't touched it for years." Ever since Alastor's letter, Kazuya couldn't help slipping back into the habit of taking it with him out in public. Alastor's words had been worrying – if the Dark Lord truly was back, how certain was Kazuya the man's band of evil would stay contained in Great Britain? It was better to walk around with his wand and never use it, rather than be defenseless should any danger arise.

Somehow, despite the lack of recent use, his body still remembered how to weld his wand. It was reflex that had Kazuya whipping out his wand when Alastor appeared unannounced behind him. There had been a spell on his lips, ready as ever, despite the long years since he'd ever uttered any.

"You never forget," Alastor responded to Kazuya internal musings, reading every thought on the Japanese man's face. "I take it you thought about my letter."

Kazuya let out a huff. "It's hard not to consider it when you try to make me feel guilty should I refuse." The man shook his head, "'…think of all the children and broken families that will result … it might even affect your own'," he recited, having read Alastor's letter enough times to regurgitate it word-for-word.

"Well…" Alastor said casually, undaunted by the pointed glare his friend shot at him. As far as Alastor was concerned, all tactics were valid. "It caught your attention."

Kazuya let out a breath of a laugh, but nevertheless forgave the other man. That was how Alastor had always been like, and Kazuya never expected him to change in the first place. "So demons, you say?" the man continued, drawing back to the topic.

"I wouldn't be surprised by a demon army," Alastor admitted in his distinctive growling voice.

Kazuya let himself frown over at Alastor when the car rolled to a stop in front of a red light. "An army?" he wondered, mostly to himself. He cocked his head thoughtfully, "From what I've inferred of demons, they're mostly independent creatures." He tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully.

"Voldemort, despite his misgivings, is a powerful wizard," Alastor allowed reluctantly.

Kazuya hummed in response. "Demons are rather sparse. I don't think I've ever come across a large group of them together. But I suppose if banding together would strengthen them, they might." The man glanced over at Alastor out of the comer of his eye as he drove. "Most always considered demons as rather strong but mindless beast, always ready for a brawl. But the Japanese have a different take on them. There are countless Japanese legends depicting demons to be much more intelligent than what most Demon Hunters are taught to believe." Kazuya gave a shrug, "I suppose the demons most Hunters come across dispute these speculations, but legends have to come from somewhere, right?"

"Your point?"

Kazuya laughed. "Always straight to the fact," he said in amusement before quickly continuing on, "Your suggestion of them forming an army under Voldemort might be true if he shows them he is powerful enough, regardless of the fact that Voldemort is only human. Demons are not just snarling, aggressive beasts with an aptitude for fighting; they have minds for thinking and considering the choices and tactics laid before them. If Voldemort convinces them that working with him will allow them cause more havoc, have more fun, they will consider it, despite they usual solitary habits."

"You would know," Alastor said with a nod, "That's more on the subject than anyone else can contribute."

Kazuya gave a strained smile at the praise. "I know you're trying to convince me to come and help, but you understand I have my own family to take care of as well?"

Alastor grunted. "Your son." He thought for a second, calculating the years, "He's twelve? He's more than welcome to attend Hogwarts while you're over there if you drop word to Albus. I'm aware he's a wizard as well."

"Thirteen," Kazuya corrected casually. "Shuichi," he added.

Alastor paused thoughtfully at the name, eyebrow raised. "Shuichi, huh. Popular Japanese name?"

Kazuya couldn't say, but then again his step-son was also a Shuuichi, so that might be true. It was written differently, but Kazuya had a feeling it all sounded the same the English speakers. "Relatively popular, I suppose," he said at the non sequitur, not bothering to question the odd tangents his friend went off into. "I've hired a tutor to teach Shuichi magic," he continued on topic, "We've been hiding it from the family in the guise of supplementary school lessons. I haven't told them about my wizard heritage."

"No time like the present," Alastor countered idly.

Kazuya burst out in a quick chuckle, trying to hold back the bitterness that the idea brought along with it. "Everything is so easy for you, isn't it?" The man let out a sigh as he slowed down his car, "I'm afraid of how they'll react," Kazuya said, thinking about his fragile, kind-hearted wife and her hard-working, devoted son. "When I met Shiori, she had been dangerously ill – she was admitted to the hospital not a few months after our meeting. I didn't want to burden her with tales of witches and wizards. We became so close. And when she got better, I just kept putting it off because I couldn't stand the idea of losing Shiori if the thought of magic scared her."

There was silence in the car as Alastor let Kazuya contemplate. The car turned into the neighbourhood, and eventually up the driveway to Kazyuha's house before Alastor spoke once more. "There is still time, Kazuya," the man said as the two of them stepped out. The Ex-Auror turned an eye towards the house while Kazuya locked up. "If you love your wife as much as you do, you would tell her."

Kazuya gave a weary smile. "I'll think about it."

Alastor gave a low hum but didn't speak, turning towards the house instead as the door opened. Shiori stood by the entrance to greet them, a smile on her face. The smile turned to confusion at the sight of Alastor.

"Welcome home, Kazuya," the woman said softly, "I wasn't aware we had a guest."

"This is Moody Alastor," Kazuya introduced, "And Alastor, this is my wife Shiori."

"It's nice to meet you," Shiori said, giving a short bow. "I'll prepare tea-"

"I'm not staying," Alastor interrupted in clunky Japanese before the woman could speak anymore. "Thanks for the invitation though, Hatanaka-san," he added, minding his manners around his friend's wife, because as rude as he could be around acquaintances, he did know better.

Shiori didn't look the slightest upset by the interruption. "Oh, please, do call me Shiori. It's no bother if you come in for tea," she invited pleasantly again, against the man's words.

"I had something to discuss with you husband," Alastor deterred, "We've finished up now."

The Ex-Auror trailed off, distracted by a flicker of something black moved from the corner of his magical eye. Alastor's frowning face deepened, but he didn't move, only tilting his head so that the movements of his whirling eye wouldn't catch Shiori's attention. "Did you know," Alastor began, mostly to Kazuya, "there's a boy up in your tree?"

There was a large oak tree planted in the front yard of the Hatanaka household. Despite the cold season, the tree still held on tight to its wilting leaves, providing shadowy foliage for the boy to hide behind. Still, Alastor's magical eye could see through doors - the thin veil of leaves was nothing compared to that.

Kazuya startled, right hand twitching behind his long sleeves. Shiori on the other hand, clapped her hands together in delight. "Oh, that must be Hiei-kun," she said casually. "He's Shuuichi's friend," she added to Alastor, so utterly calm and pleasant.

The Ex-Auror raised an eyebrow at Kazuya. The man's thirteen-year-old must be an odd one if his friends scaled trees often enough for Shiori to be used to it. He watched as the woman made her way to the trunk of the tree, staring upwards, speaking in a gentle voice.

"I'm afraid Shuuichi isn't here, Hiei-kun," she said, "Didn't he tell you he had a scholarship-" the woman continued.

Alastor gave a nod to Kazuya while his wife was distracted. "I'll be heading off now."

"Before Shiori manages to convince you to stay?" Kazuya teased knowingly.

Sometime between Alastor hobbling out of their sight, and Hiei disappearing from their tree once more, Shiori suddenly remembered her husband's guest. "Oh dear," she murmured, looking around for the missing man, "How rude I must have seemed."

"Nonsense dear," Kazuya corrected, "Alastor is quite anti-social."

Shiori frowned worryingly, "And how is he getting home? Walking?"

"He's parked nearby," Kazuya lied. There was a sudden loud crack – it may have been from blocks away, but in a neighborhood as quiet as theirs, it sounded as loud as if it were right there beside them. Shiori jumped as the noise echoed past. "Ahh, someone's car must have backfired," Kazuya hastily suggested.

Shiori's eyes narrowed, ignoring her husband's halting hold as she slipped past him and onto the street. She looked both ways, staring down as far as she could see, but was gifted with the sight of a long, empty road. "Moody-san is gone," she said wonderingly.

"Ah, he walks rather fast."

"With that leg of his?" Shiori said skeptically, because she hadn't missed the wooden stump the man had on, nor the way he slowly hobbled as he walked.

"Well…" Kazuya tried to begin, fumbling for a plausible lie.

His wife interrupted him. Shiori's eyes were shinning suddenly, a revelation dawning in them. She looked searchingly at Kazuya before she spoke, choosing her words carefully. "It sounded more like Apparition than a car to me," she corrected.

Kazuya's eyes widened. "You know!" he cried out before he could help himself.

Shiori was standing tense before him when she had spoken earlier. At Kazuya's confirmation, she wilted into a relaxed state, glad her gamble paid off. A second later she broke off into a giggle. "I knew I saw an owl the other day!" she said with a thrilled jump. "I think we've been hiding the same secret from each other."

Kazuya joined her laughter when the thought hit him as well. "Well," he finally managed out when they winded down, "How about we talk about this openly once and for all?" He led the two of them back into the house for some well-needed privacy. "It seems we both have a lot to talk about."

"Yes we do."

Kazuya called his son down when he and his wife settled in their living room. The thirteen-year-old had been doing his homework in his room, door closed, ears covered with his blaring music, before his father interrupted him. It was no wonder the kid had no idea what had occurred minutes prior.

When the teen reached the living room, he stared between his parents, eyes studying them warily. His mother looked giddy and pleased. His father was crossed between amusement and exasperation. Shuichi wasn't sure what to look forward to.

"What's wrong?" Shuichi finally said when it was clear neither of the two grinning adults before him would talk.

"It turns out there more to your mother than we expected," Kazuya replied cryptically.

Shuichi suddenly knew.

The thought of hiding his magic from his family had made Shuichi both guilty and nervous. It was surprisingly easy to fall in love with this new family of his. Shiori was the mother he always wanted (especially since he had no memories of his own). Shuuichi was the older brother who made him feel welcomed, and always helped him whenever he asked. He was wise and popular, and Shuichi couldn't help looking up to him. So, it was no surprise he wanted to share his secret them; but like his father, he couldn't get past the worry deep in his stomach if their confession went sour. He hated the thought of his step-mother and step-brother becoming scared of him, or heck, despising him if they found out he wasn't like them.

Shuichi didn't like being forced to lie to his step-mother and step-brother whenever he had his magic lessons. He wanted to brag to his older brother, and watch his face light up when he saw all the things Shuichi could show him. He wanted a deeper bond with his new family, and with a secret life held between them, he felt like it would never happen. And yet, now-

"You're a witch?" Shuichi cried out, sounding more like a demand than a question.

Shiori smiled all the same. "A squib, actually."

"And you know about the wizarding world?" Shuichi continued, relentless.

Shiori stood from her seat on the sofa, making her way towards the thirteen-year-old. "Of course I do. And I hear from your father you've been excelling in your magic lessons." She pulled the teen into a tight hug, expressing every ounce of her love with the embrace. "I'm so proud of you!"

Shuichi pressed into the hold, face beaming with brightness he had been holding back since now. "Thank you, mom!"

"I never would have guessed you were affiliated with the wizarding world with the way you live," Kazuya said, glancing at the decidedly muggle decorations Shiori adorned around their house. The entire style was muggle.

"Squib," Shiori put in, as though that explained everything. To be honest, it truly did. Unlike witches and wizards, squibs were often disowned, thrown to live in the world as muggles. They couldn't charm anything in their home by themselves, and everything magical had to be bought – a hard thing for most squibs if they didn't have any family fortune, or never had been shown the entrance of any magical shopping alleys before they were disowned.

"I was born to an old family Japan," Shiori began, clearing up her history, "When they found out I was a squib, they took me on a trip, far away, dropping me off in a vast countryside and left without another word. I suppose they didn't want accidentally run into me, if I managed to survive on my own. Eventually, mum and dad found and adopted me when I stumbled onto their summer home. My brother was adamant I stayed with them when he heard my story, and I doubt mum and dad could ever deny James anything. Not that they would've opposed."

"Where did they drop you?" Shuichi asked curiously, while disgust of his mother's birth parents shone clearly in his eyes.

"Somewhere in Yorkshire, apparently," the woman replied.

Kazuya choked at her words, forcing down a surprised laugh. "In England?" He elaborated when she looked over, "My family emigrated from Japan to England before I was born. We lived in the small magical community in Devon. I met my first wife there, and that was where Shuichi was born. We only moved to Japan when Annabel died – Shuichi was only a few years old at the time – I didn't feel like I could live in a world where I was constantly reminded of her."

Shiori pulled her whole family onto the couch. She smiled lovingly at her husband as she held onto his hand. "I understand," she said. Their family couch was a small little thing. With the three of them crammed on it, they were nearly sitting on top of each other. It was a simple thing in that position for Shiori to pull them all into a tight hug a moment later. "You know," she murmured, "it looked like we were always close to each other even if we never knew it!"

"It must be fate," Kazuya said with a soft laugh.

Eventually, Shuichi wriggled free from their confines. "So, is 'nii-san also a wizard then?" the teen blurted out curiously, the question burning in him since the beginning of his mother's tale.

Shiori shook her head. Shuichi sulked in disappointment. "I always wondered with him, but no, Shuuichi never received an acceptance letter." Shiori wrung her hands ruefully, "and after that, I figured it would probably be for the best if I didn't tell him about the wizarding world."

There was a scandalised look on Shuichi's face at the thought of that. "'Nii-san doesn't know about it at all?"

"No. I figured it would never come up again…" Shiori turned to Kazuya, mind thrown back to the man's acquaintance. "What did Moody-san want?" she asked, wondering if and how it affected the family.

Kazuya hesitated. He looked between Shiori's determined expression and Shuichi's confusion before he finally sighed and relented. As briefly as he could, he summed up Alastor's request for him to return to England to be involved in the fight against the Dark Lord.

Shiori's face was pale when he finished. Kazuya clutched her hand into his own, pulling her close to his chest. "If it scares you, I won't drag you along with me." Because, especially after Alastor's words, Kazuya knew he couldn't stand back and do nothing. Alastor was right, there were not enough wizards with the knowledge of demons, and if Kazuya was capable of helping in this war, he would. It was only a matter of what Shiori and Shuichi would do.

"I'm going too!" Shuichi cried out.

Kazuya wanted to shush his son, but Shiori's tug of his arms drew his attention away. "The Dark Lord in Great Britain? The one who calls himself V-Voldemort?" the woman said shakily. Before Kazuya could answer her, tears were already falling from her eyes as she buried her face into his shirt. "He killed my family. He attacked my brother's family and friends and killed them all," she hissed out. "They tried to hide from him. James was sending me letters – I was already living here by then, and he was my only contact left with the wizarding world – but then one day all communications stopped. I rushed back as soon as I could, but their house was in rubbles, and no one in the neighbourhood could tell me anything about James and his family. I asked about his best friend, but all I got were pitying looks. He killed them all!"

Kazuya wrapped his arms around his wife, whispering soothing words into her ear. Shuichi tried his best to pat his mother's back.

Shiori pushed away unexpectedly, movements sharp and abrupt. "My Shuuichi is in England right now!" she exclaimed at them, a fire suddenly burning in her eyes, behind the redness. "I'm not going to let that man take away more family. If you're going back to help, I'm coming too!"

Kazuya froze at her words. "Wait, Shuuichi - where is Shuuichi studying?" he asked urgently, suddenly fearing for his step-son's survival. If the Dark Lord was back and his Death Eaters active, Shuuichi was in danger as well.

Shiori opened and closed her mouth wordlessly. She blinked blankly at Kazuya for all of a second before her gaze lowered, staring down into her hands. There was a trembled in her voice as she spoke next. "I … I don't know," she finally managed out slowly. "Shuuichi never clarified." Shuuichi's vagueness never bothered her before, but now it was a matter of life and death. The woman scrambled to the phone, only to stop when she realised there was no cell number she could call. "I don't know his boarding address either," she murmured unbelievably to herself when she considered writing him a letter instead. She turned to Shuichi, words rolling frantically off her lips, "Do you know if your brother has an email address?"

Eyes wide, Shuichi shook his head. "I don't know. I never had to email him. If I ever needed 'nii-san for anything, I just go to his room. He left so abruptly I never got to ask."

"Why don't you swing over to Meiou High?" Kazuya cut in helpfully, "I'm sure they keep track of where they send their students, dear. The school administrators could surely help you."

Hardly a second after the words left his mouth, Shiori was already up and about. With a quick peck on the man's cheek, and the jingles of car keys, Shiori left in a hurry.

Back in the living room, Kazuya shared a worried glance with his son. "I hope your brother's fine," he said quietly, disliking the sudden feel of dread creeping up his spine.

Shuichi bobbed his head, faring better than his parents. "He's probably just careless. He can't be perfect all the time." The teen headed up the stairs, "I'm going into 'nii-san's room. Maybe his email's written somewhere."

Kazuya gave the teen a thanking nod.

Kazuya's heart leaped to his chest when he picked up the phone and his wife's crying voice carried though. "Shiori, dear, what's wrong," the man fretted, already heading to the front door, shoes on hand and ready to be put on.

"Please pick me up," the woman's voice whispered into the phone. "I don't think I can drive home."

"Where are you," Kazuya demanded. It turned out Shiori was still in Meiou High, by the entrance of the building. With a nod, Kazuya pulled up all his memories back when he was still an active wizard, and apparated to the back of the school with a solid crack. The man scrambled around the building, spotting his wife leaning heavily on the wall.

"Shiori, what happened?" he cried as he scooped her up in his arms.

"Shuuichi," Shoiri said. And before she gave Kazuya enough time to process, she dropped a bombshell onto him. "He quit school."

"What?!" The man shook his head, trying to clear away the shock. "We're talking about Shuuichi, aren't we? He wouldn't do that."

"I know," Shiori murmured, barely heard, "But I asked over and over, and even asked them to show me the official documents. Shuuichi dropped out from school before he left."

"Why?"

The woman shook her head, dropping her face into the crook of Kazuya neck. "I don't know." She looked so vulnerable when she pulled out of his hold, staring the man straight into his eyes. "Did my son lie to me?" she asked in a voice so weak, it reminded Kazuya of the frail woman she had been years ago in the hospital near her death bed. Yet, unlike then, there was no determinate spark in her eyes.

"I'm sure it's a misunderstanding," the man placated as best as he could.

"Shuuichi said he had applied to some sort of international studies with a full scholarship. He was going to be living in a boarding school somewhere in England." Shiori's hand tightened on Kazuya's shirt. "But Meiou High didn't offer any international studies programmes. I asked."

"Perhaps it wasn't a programme within the school?" Kazuya suggested.

"Was he scammed? Is he left swindled and lost in a foreign country? "

"You don't know that!" the man cut in immediately. "This is Shuuichi," Kazuya argued logically, "He knows better than to head blindly into things. And he would definitely contact you if anything was wrong."

"What if he couldn't?"

Kazuya dug into his wife's purse when she absentmindedly handed it over, reaching for the car keys within. He gently maneuvered Shiori's elbow to lead her towards their car. "Calm down. You're letting your imagination run wild," he soothed repeatedly along the way. When he helped Shiori onto the passenger seat, she all but melted into the leather seats.

He leaned in, pressing his lips against her temples. "Shuuichi is fine; he can handle himself."

Shiori pulled at the bottom of her blouse, finger digging into the fabric and stretching it thin. Her eyes were moist, and her voice a trembling mess when she spoke. I broke Kazuya's heart to hear her speak like that. "Where is Shuuichi? Where is my son?! I want my son back!" the woman wailed.

"We will."

Shiori swallowed hard, taking in a deep breath. "We're going to England!" Shiori demanded as sharply as she could over her tears. She would find her son herself.

Kazuya nodded understandingly. He had been thinking the same thing. "We'll leave immediately."

And hundreds of miles in the air, a letter from the UK slowly made its way to Japan. It was a shame that when it arrived delivered to the Minamino-Hatanaka household, there was no one home to receive it. The whole family, according to the neighbours, left to England for a well needed vacation.

A/n: Note on surnames: Shuichi-chan and his father go by Hatanaka. Shiori's also going by Hatanaka (because Japanese law does not recognize married couples who have different surnames as lawful husband and wife). Shuuichi still goes by Minamino.