A/N: …wow. Way too late. .

Warnings, pairings, disclaimers, etc. in previous chapter(s).

~oOo~

Hiei perches on a chair in Snape's classroom, reading a book Kurama had given him not too long ago. Remembering Snape's habits of picking on young Gryffindors—he had once been a victim—Hiei keeps a red eye on the man.

The Gryffindor and Slytherin third years trudge into class, the former looking very gloomy at having double Potions early in the morning. Malfoy walks into class, looking very down and sleepy at the same time. Hiei smirks.

The girl known as Pansy Parkinson starts fawning over Malfoy, asking if he's alright. Hiei hears him recount several of his "brave" adventures in the Forbidden Forest, while Potter and his two friends are looking furious. Deciding to help them out a little, Hiei calls out, "Tell her about how you screamed like a little girl and fell on your ass when I stepped on a twig. Accidentally, of course."

Malfoy's face begins to burn in shame and anger, and the Gryffindors look like they're trying their hardest not to burst out into laughter. Hiei sits back, watching the class and heading over to where he remembers Snape puts his knives.

Noticing the tips are all dulled—hah, that was because of him!—Hiei smirks deviously to himself, picking up a whittling stone and sitting down again to sharpen them. It's a very innocent act; he's the Professor's Assistant, of course, and why wouldn't he want to fix his blades?

Near the end of the class, Snape stalks towards the boy named Neville Longbottom—an unfortunate name. But before he can begin to pick on him, a knife finds its way onto the ground, point first, next to Snape's foot. To the man's credit, he doesn't flinch, merely glaring at Hiei.

"Oops," Hiei says, not looking from sharpening knives. "My finger slipped. Doesn't it remind you of the old days, though? At least it didn't hit your face this time. This time." Casually, he picks up a sharpened knife, flipping it around his fingers, letting the dim light catch off of the blade. Immediately he stabs it into the nearby wall, letting it stay there before continuing.

The class is silent while Snape raises an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware that you were allowed to kill me," he responds dully.

"Who said anything about killing you? I could shove a knife in your eye and you wouldn't die." Another knife joins the one stuck in the wall with a loud noise. "Actually, I know all the ways to kill you. Thus, I know where I hit. It's necessary for information, unless I have incredible charm… that's for Kurama."

Snape seems to sigh.

Longbottom looks beyond relieved as Snape stalks away from him, his frame trembling. Hiei hears Finnigan say something about the Daily Prophet, and Malfoy then pipes up, his eyes malevolent. Narrowing his eyes imperceptibly, Hiei listens in on their conversation.

"I would hunt him down myself," Malfoy is saying just as Hiei stands and dusts himself, heading in his direction.

"It seems you are a masochist," Hiei says flippantly, a sharpened knife between his fingers. "Are you purposely attempting to get in trouble? Also, I doubt you could take Black. Even if Black breaks into the school, we'll catch him. If he's innocent, we let him go. If he's guilty, we kill him on the spot. Easy."

Potter gulps nervously, glancing at the knife in Hiei's hand. "U-um, if you don't mind me asking… how will you tell that?"

"If he has the eyes of a killer, we interrogate him. If he did it for self-defense, we let him go. If he killed the thirteen he is known for, we kill him. If he has innocent eyes, we let him go." Hiei shrugs. "It isn't hard."

He turns to Malfoy. "I suggest you stop provoking others," he warns him. "Or I will give you the permanent name of Draco Masochist."

~oOo~

Hiei sits down at the Slytherin table, looking up when Lupin taps him on the shoulder. He turns, raising an eyebrow. "What do you want?"

"I couldn't find you earlier, but I wanted to ask if you were willing to set an example for the boggart…?" Lupin asks, uncertain.

He fights the urge to shout at Lupin for asking something as absurd as this. "My worst fears happen to be quite… graphic. And I don't guarantee that I can even fight back. I am not known for my sense of humor. Wit, perhaps, but not humor."

"Ah… I see," Lupin says, looking quite dejected. "I thought it would be a good way for the students to realize just how horrible life can be, and to mentally prepare them for what can and may happen in the future."

"I suppose you realized that in terms of tragic, my past was the worst of us four, did you?" They aren't speaking very loudly, so only they can hear each other.

Lupin smiles sheepishly. "You realized?"

"Yes. I do have intuition. And I know what you are."

Lupin doesn't look offended. "Ah. But will you?"

I can't believe I'm actually doing this. "Yes. Expect me there. I'll go inform Snape of the changes." Hiei stands, brushing imaginary dust off of himself. I must be getting soft. Blinking slightly, he sighs inwardly. Is it me, or Malfoy, that is the masochist?

~oOo~

Outside, he hears a large group of footsteps as Lupin's class heads towards the room Hiei and Snape are in. Heads snap in their direction.

"Leave it open. I'd rather not witness this," Snape mutters to Lupin. He stands up in a billow of robes, turning as soon as he is in the doorframe. He opens his mouth to speak, but Hiei interrupts.

"You know, Snape, there are quite a few sharp objects in this room that catch my interest."

Snape scowls before leaving, closing the door with a sharp jerk.

"Now, then," Lupin begins, "Nothing to worry about. There's a boggart in this old wardrobe."

Hiei scowls, reminiscent of Snape's earlier expression, but he says nothing. The students get the impression that it is something to worry about.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, cupboards under sinks—I've even met one in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give you some practice. So, the first question is, what is, exactly, a boggart?"

Granger's hand shoots up. "It's a shape-shifter. It takes the shape of whatever your worst fear is."

"Couldn't have phrased it better," Lupin says. "The boggart sitting in this wardrobe has no form. He doesn't know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. No one knows what a boggart truly looks like. But as soon as I let him out, he will become whatever each of us fears. This means, we have a huge advantage of the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

Potter looks rather nervous and awkward but he still manages to give the correct answer. "Um… it's because there are so many of us, so it won't know what to turn into?"

"Precisely. It's best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. What should it become, a headless corpse? A flesh eating slug? I once saw a boggart make a mistake; he tried to frighten two people at once, and he turned into half a slug. Not exactly frightening. The charm that repels a boggart is simple, but it requires force of will. You need laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape you find laughable.

"We will practice the charm without wands. After me—Ridikulus!"

"Ridikulus!" the class chants.

"Good. But that was the easy part. You see, the word itself alone is not enough. Neville, please come up?"

"Eh? Me?" Longbottom squeaks, but he stumbles forward anyway.

"What scares you the most?" Lupin asks.

"Snape," Hiei hears Longbottom mumble, but it's inaudible to the others.

"Ah, I didn't catch that."

"P-professor S-Snape…" Longbottom whispers.

The class bursts out laughing, and even Longbottom offers an apologetic smile. "Hmm. Neville, you live with your grandmother, am I correct? Can you please describe what she normally wears?"

"Well, a tall hat with a stuffed vulture. A long green dress… and a fox fur scarf. With a big red handbag," Longbottom recalls.

"If you can envision them clearly in your mind, then you're ready. When the boggart appears as Professor Snape, cry Ridikulus, and concentrate on those clothes. If all goes well, Boggart Professor Snape will forced into those clothes."

The class bursts into laughter.

"If Neville is successful, the boggart will shift his attention to each of us in turn. I would like you all to be mentally prepared for the boggart, and how it might look comical."

The laughter dissipates almost immediately.

Hiei doesn't know what he fears most, but he has a couple of good ideas.

The entire class, with Hiei, stand at the back of the room. Lupin lets the boggart out and Professor Snape stalks out of the closet. Longbottom squeaks and takes a step back and points a trembling wand at the boggart. "R-r-r-Ridikulus!"

Laughter bounces across the room as a disgruntled Boggart Snape in Longbottom's grandmother's clothing turns its attention to different students.

Hiei is nervous, but hides it well, as he watches the boggart change into various things as the students are called up. At last, when only he and Potter are left, Lupin calls, "Hiei, if you would. And I offer my sincerest apologies in advance."

Suddenly the class is very silent as Hiei quietly walks towards the boggart, clearly skittish. "If anything happens, this is your fault, Remus Lupin," he murmurs.

And then, crack!

He's wrapped in seals, tightly wound around his body. He can hear everything they say, understanding everything since birth.

"Forbidden child."

"Hina broke the taboo—in two ways. The girl we can keep. The other, we will cast down, wrapped in seals."

And then he's falling, falling, falling, and then when he lands, he's in a nightmare, the seals are gone, everything is dead, everything is burnt to the ground, and he's the cause of it, and everybody is after him, for those priceless tears of his but he won't, can't, cry and it makes it all them all the more priceless.

He's being chased, chased, beaten with rocks, death and carnage are everywhere, and then this isn't right, because this happened ten years after he was thrown off the island, and everything's all jumbled because he's insane and he doesn't care and then there's Yukina.

Except she isn't the way he remembers because she's colder than she should be, even if she's a Koorime, and the red that matches hers—and his—eyes is staining the ground beneath her and there's a katana—his—protruding out of her body and then there's horror, insanity, and the burn marks just make it all the worse, taunting him because this is his work.

He isn't moving but suddenly he's surrounded by the bodies of those he has come to know as comrades, people he's finally willing to die for but they're all dead, all dead, dead, dead, and the world is painted with red and he's soaked in it and where did those seals go?

Burn marks taunt him, and then he hears an all too familiar tone, once gentle and kind towards him but now hateful, hateful, hateful, because he's the Forbidden Child and he doesn't deserve anything. "I hate you, Forbidden Child. I curse you."

And then he digs his fingernails into his scalp, gritting his teeth because this shouldn't be real, this isn't real, because Kurama doesn't hate him but he does and Yusuke and Kuwabara and Yukina and Mukuro and hell, even Botan and Keiko and Shizuru are dead and it's all his fault and for the first time in his life, priceless gems clatter to the floor and then he welcomes the darkness.

~oOo~

He stirs, eyes opening and blinking blearily at the ceiling. Distantly he recognizes that he is in the infirmary, his mind still sluggish.

And then he remembers what had happened and sits upright, immediately regretting it when his head starts to throb. Huh. When did my head start hurting…?

"Hiei. You're awake." Hiei turns to the source of the voice, Kurama sitting on a chair next to his bed, and he blinks at the Youko.

"Do—" He winces when his voice cracks.

Kurama passes a cup of water to Hiei, which the latter accepts with a brief nod of thanks and downs quickly. "Do you know why the hell my head is hurting?"

"You hit your head with you collapsed," Kurama answers. "We felt your youki fluctuate violently and we hurried to the scene and brought you here." Kurama holds out a small pouch and Hiei takes it questioningly but as soon as he opens it, he realizes what it is with a distinct sense of embarrassment.

"How long was I out?"

"A couple of hours. I believe Yusuke and Kuwabara are still giving Lupin a verbal beating."

Hiei winces quietly. "…I feel sorry for him. At least it is not a physical beating. I doubt Lupin would survive that."

Kurama's green eyes flash yellow momentarily in anger. Hiei instinctively flinches away from him. Youko Kurama is dangerous. "He let you deal with that thing."

"And I agreed to it," Hiei retorts lowly. "I will be fine. I am not a fucking fragile glass sculpture, Kurama."

Kurama wipes a hand over his face, sighing deeply. "I know. I know."

"And I suppose you know that I've been here before. Or at least suspected it."

"I assume that means you have been here, Hiei, and that confirms my suspicions. And if you did not tell us, I suppose you have personal reasons for it."

Hiei agrees with a noncommittal snort before swinging his legs off of the bed. "Hold onto this, will you? I do not wish to have this on my person. I find it… shameful."

Raising an eyebrow, Kurama takes the pouch anyway. "And you'll willingly entrust this to me, a Youko." It isn't a question.

"Certainly. If I am perfectly fine with trusting you with my life, what are a few tears?"

Breathing deeply, Kurama slips the pouch into his pocket. "These are worth more than a lifetime's fortune, Hiei. What do you even want me to do with them?"

Hiei shrugs, spotting his cloak, and throws it on, fastening his katana where it belongs. "Do with them what you will. Destroy them, sell them, keep them as a memento, give them to Yukina—whatever. I don't care. As long as you keep it between us."

Turning when he hears an odd noise escape from the Youko, Hiei looks at him. "What?"

"I am touched, Hiei. Really." Oddly enough, Kurama looks like he means it.

Before they can say anything else, the door is slammed open. "KURAMA! IS HIEI OKAY?!" Yusuke and Kuwabara shout simultaneously.

"I am awake, and perfectly fine," Hiei says curtly in a deadpan tone.

Only now does Madame Pomfrey make her appearance. "I will not tolerate any yelling in the infirmary! My patient is—oh, you're awake, Hiei. How are you feeling?"

"Just peachy and itching to leave."

Pomfrey clicks her tongue before circling around him. "Alright, you may go," she decides. "Shoo! Go. Take it easy though, you left a bit of a bump on your head, and the injuries you had before still haven't—listen to me!"

Hiei's already flitted away.

~oOo~

The next day, when Hiei walks into the Great Hall, people stare at him and some of those in the class he'd been in looked traumatized. He can't blame them.

Lupin hesitantly approaches him, looking incredibly remorseful. "I sincerely apologize, Hiei-san," he says respectfully while Kurama, Yusuke, and Kuwabara glare at him from their respective tables.

"No permanent harm done to me. I cannot say the same for your students, Lupin," Hiei replies coolly as he sips on some tea Kurama had given to him. He feels more relaxed than he should be, and blames it on the effects of the plants.

"But it was my fault," Lupin murmurs.

"What is done is done. Just go back; it was partially my fault for agreeing to it, and I am quite sure that if you stay any longer near me, Kurama will murder you." Lupin makes a hasty leave without looking too flustered. Or he'll have spontaneously combusted from the combined glares of Kurama, Yusuke, and Kuwabara.

Malfoy isn't defying him anymore; out of pity or fear or both, Hiei isn't sure, but if it's the former, he will fucking murder Malfoy, laws of the Reikai be damned.

Hiei stands, heading outside and generally ignoring all of the other people in the room. Mindful of the injuries that haven't made much progress at all, Hiei sighs and takes a seat on the grass. It's quiet, relatively quiet, with the occasional chirp of a bird.

After a while of sitting—classes have certainly started by now—Hiei decides to skip being the assistant (not like he does anything anyway) for the day and head into the "Forbidden Forest" just to kill some time.

He strolls around leisurely for a while, feeling rather sleepy, and frowns, finding a clearing after a while, perching in one of the trees to take a quick nap.

Hiei never sees the ambush coming.

Nor does he feel his blood, tinged with black, pool around him.

~oOo~

"Have you seen Hiei?"

Lupin nods. "I saw him this morning, why?"

Kurama ignores the werewolf and pushes past him, green eyes narrowed. Earlier this morning, he had felt Hiei's youki disappearing, which he finds incredibly odd.

He knows Yusuke and Kuwabara have similar sentiments, and they've split up to find Hiei, but he hasn't had any luck so far.

Sensing Yusuke's youki up ahead, Kurama picks up speed to meet the half demon. "No luck?" Kurama asks, slipping off the translation bracelet, seeing Yusuke do so as well.

"No," Yusuke sighs. "I guess you didn't have any either, huh."

"There is no way Hiei would ditch us like that without at least telling me," Kurama murmurs. "His youki just… disappeared. And I am easily able to come to the conclusion that there is someone behind this."

"There usually is," Yusuke retorts.

Unfortunately, that's true. Too true.

~oOo~

"We have come to an agreement, then, Voldemort-san?" The speaker's voice is smooth as silk, neither masculine nor feminine. Neither person in the room can be seen in the darkness that drapes over them.

"Certainly."

"Then please repeat exactly what our agreement is to seal it."

"'You will lend me three hundred demons for my army in exchange for twenty of my dementors.' Is that correct, Hiniku?" Voldemort's hissing tone mangles the Japanese name but Hiniku clearly just finds it amusing.

"Yes, yes. Certainly, Voldemort-san. But as soon as I am finished with your dementors, I expect you to return my army within three days. If you do not, I will hunt down every last one of your Horcruxes and destroy them."

Hiniku's words sink their meaning into Voldemort's heart like a basilisk's fangs, which is quite the ironic comparison… which suits his name quite fine. [1]

"I… I understand." Hiniku definitely hears the stutter in Voldemort's tone but makes no comment about it. The quiet whisper of cloth tells Voldemort that Hiniku has turned his back and is heading for the exit.

Voldemort makes no move for his wand to shout the killing curse at the demon despite his trembling fingers.

The door opens, casting light into the room.

After all, had Voldemort even tried, the basilisk curled around his body would have immediately bitten him, injecting its poison into his body without hesitation.

What irony.

The door starts to shut, leaving Voldemort in darkness as the basilisk hisses in warning before slithering through the crack in the door.

The door shuts with a click.

~oOo~

In the light, Hiniku is certainly male.

His eyes are violet and snakelike, and his long white hair is swept into a ponytail, skin dark in contrast to the white of his hair. A pair of fangs poke out from his upper lip.

Turning, Hiniku looks for the designated dementors.

Oh, little Hiei. Your hell on earth has arrived.

Almost quite literally. Hiniku just about purrs.

~oOo~

Hiei awakes in a cold cell, chained to the floor. This is getting old, and he tries to yank his arms out of the chains, but they don't give. Frowning, Hiei inspects the cuffs around his wrists and with a growing sense of panic he realizes they're youki suppressors. His pounding headache isn't helping at all either.

He forces down his emotions and studies his surroundings through bleary red eyes. The cell is relatively large, enough for a large table covered in a cloth—Hiei is almost certain that the cloth is covering a large variety of torture materials. It doesn't faze him anymore; after all, he's faced worse.

The chains are wrapped around his body, shackling him to the wall and the ground, sucking out his youki, and most likely the cause of his headache from lack of youki… combined with the blood trickling down his face, which he assumes is from a blow to his throbbing temple.

This all doesn't really explain why he's feeling so awfully sick though, and it isn't like when he's anemic after losing half his blood or something. This feels more like one of those human flus except probably a million times worse.

His clothing is soaked in his own blood, and he groans inwardly; he hasn't changed his bandages, of course they'll wear out.

Hiei puts a hand to one of his injuries and when he pulls it away his hand is covered in red, unsurprisingly. But what catches his attention is the tinge of sickly black.

Kurama said there was no poison he could detect in my body, Hiei muses. And I trust that Youko more than I should, but I'm sure he didn't lie to me. But is this what is causing my injuries not to heal? But shouldn't Kurama have noticed if my blood was a different color?

He suddenly feels very dizzy, and he forces himself to focus to keep himself conscious. Hiei bites the inside of his cheek, drawing blood.

Suddenly, the door swings open, bringing in a flood of light that illuminates the dimly lit room. As it swings shut, Hiei is able to makes out the silhouette of the newcomer to the room.

His eyes widen involuntarily before narrowing down to angry slits, and Hiei feels his nails dig into his palms, feeling himself bleed even more.

"You," Hiei snarls, rage flooding throughout himself from head to toe.

"Yes, me, Hiei," the other demon singsongs. "I am so glad you remember me, Jaganshi. And I'm quite sure you know why I'm here."

Hiei knows but says nothing, biting his cheek even harder. The taste of blood fills his mouth.

"If you aren't saying anything, I suppose I have to spell it out for you." Hiniku smiles cruelly. "I want your tears. I want to see you beg."

"F-fuck you," Hiei retorts after spitting out the blood in his mouth on the floor in contempt. "Go die, you bastard."

A basilisk slithers into the room from a crevice in the rock, hissing and baring its fangs. "Prepare yourself, Jaganshi," Hiniku purrs. "Hell on earth is here for you."

And Hiei really does have to bite down on his tongue to avoid the sting of tears of fear as thirty dementors appear all around him.

A/N: Woot. That was ridiculously late, and I'm not sure if it's even good.

[1] Hiniku means "irony" or "sarcasm". I am also aware that Voldemort gets his body in book 4 but you know, I can do what I want. XD