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The infirmary doors shut with a muffled thump as Yato and Yukine stepped into the hallway.
Yato let out a sigh. Whilst Hiyori was still unconscious, she would be ok. ‘No lasting damage’, the matron said. But it didn’t feel like she would be ok, not after…
Madame Kofuku, Daikoku, and Daigo looked up at the noise. Their faces were twisted with concern – except Daigo, who had found interest in chewing on his mother’s coat strings and softly babbling nonsense to himself.
“She’ll be fine,” Yukine said when the silence stretched out. “She did a counter curse. Just a broken arm to heal.”
Madame Kofuku sighed, fingers twirling Daigo’s dark hair anxiously. Daikoku, on the other hand, gave a curt nod with his jaw clenched, but his gaze was fixated on Yukine’s coat pocket.
“I believe we should take that to Professor Tenjin.”
Yato and Yukine both glanced down at Daikoku’s pointed nod. The necklace, and whatever curse was on it, lay wrapped inside Yukine’s pocket. Even now Yato could feel certain darkness emanated from it, one that tempted its victim to want to wrap the chain around their neck in a deathly embrace.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that, whatever it was, it was no accident it ended up in Hiyori’s hands.
The walk to Professor Tenjin’s office was agonising. Few students passed them, and when they did they received confused glances that asked why their exiled werewolf professor had returned, and why Madame Kofuku had a child in her arms.
Daikoku ignored the looks, head held high as he led the way up the grand staircase and down a hallway. Concealed behind the gargoyle statue on the third floor, the hundreds of steps spiraled to the Headmasters tower where they would find Professor Tenjin.
Yato found that the room hadn’t changed at all since his regular visits to the Headmaster all those years ago. The periodic scolding for truancy or missing curfew all seemed a distant memory. Hundreds of books were inset into the bookcases that lined the walls, merging around the window that gave a sparkling view of the Great Lake and the valleys beyond. The familiar scent of ash and old parchment that had seeped into the crevices in the room was a tell-tale sign of how long Professor Tenjin had been Headmaster at Hogwarts. Putting a number to that was something Yato could not guess at.
Professor Tenjin looked up at the gentle squawk of his phoenix, Fawkes, which alerted him to the newcomers as the door opened.
“What a pleasant surprise,” Professor Tenjin said. He rose from his seat as he took in the ex-professor and his entourage, but it was covered by professionalism as he greeted them with his familiar smile. “To what do I owe this visit?”
Daikoku stepped forward and cleared his throat. His hands were tucked behind his back and his head was inclined in what Yato assumed was respect – it seemed that Daikoku harboured no ill feelings about being forced to resign from Hogwarts.
“I’m afraid one of your students, Hiyori Iki, has been injured in Hogsmeade,” Daikoku said. “She was cursed with dark magic, stored inside a necklace.”
Professor Tenjin’s expression darkened quickly as Daikoku ushered Yukine forward. Without thinking, Yato followed.
Daikoku drew his wand and, as Yukine held the pocket open, the necklace floated to rest of Professor Tenjin’s paper-strewn desk. A pendant on a chain, slightly tucked under some papers, caught Yato’s eye as he scanned the desk, but it was quickly diverted to the cursed object at hand.
Upon closer inspection, Yato could see the glint of rounded opals stringed together by a black, roped chain. Professor Tenjin’s eyebrows drew together as he leant over the necklace, hands splayed on the desk and nearly covered by his black robe sleeves as he inspected it with piercing scrutiny.
“This is a very strong curse,” Professor Tenjin murmured. His greys eyes turned up to look at Daiko, Yukine, and Yato in turn. “This should’ve killed her.”
Yato felt his chest constrict. It was one thing to curse, but why would Nora try to kill Hiyori? It didn’t make sense.
“Where did she get this?”
The attention turned to Yato and Yukine. Though his mouth opened and closed a few times, Yato finally found the words in his muddled brain. “We don’t know. We were in Honeydukes and then she was gone.”
Yato bit back his comment about seeing Nora in Honeydukes cellar, right where Hiyori was before she received said necklace – but unfounded suspicion wouldn’t help Hiyori, as much as he believed it was her doing.
Professor Tenjin hummed, stroking his greyed goatee, eyes closed. It was here where Yato truly noticed his age; years of teaching and fighting – Ministry and Sorcerer alike – had taken their toll on him. He opened his eyes as Yato looked away once again.
“Although this is dark magic, I think it’s safe to say,” Professor Tenjin paused, poking the necklace with the tip of his wand for good measure. “That this is not a horcrux.”
Yato and Yukine’s attention snapped up the second he said the word. How did he know about the horcruxes?
Gentle footsteps approached behind them. “Professor Tenjin is aware of the horcruxes.”
Madame Kofuku spoke lightly, as if she were afraid that someone was lurking outside the tower’s windows. “After the Minister resigned, after Sakura… it was only fair to tell him that his Order of the Phoenix had been reborn, and what our mission was.”
“And while I don’t condone students involving themselves in such things,” Professor Tenjin cut in with a pointed look. “It seems we have no choice when your bond to the Sorcerer is strongest. I also understand your father is connected to him.”
Yato nodded duly. Shame wormed into his chest and rested beside the constricted worry for Hiyori. His father. A man he hadn’t seen since he fled to Hogwarts to escape his cruelty. A Deatheater, a murderer, a purist. He could only be thankful they didn’t share blood, but he still hated to be called his son.
“I will ensure that this is taken care of by the Ministry,” Professor Tenjin said. He was already raising the necklace with a wordless spell and placing it into his top drawer. It locked with a dull click. “Thank you, Daikoku, Madame Kofuku, for bringing this to my attention.”
Daikoku nodded respectfully once again and turned on his heel with a farewell, guiding Madame Kofuku and Daigo down the stairs.
Yato and Yukine went to follow but were called to a stop. They both half-turned to look back at the headmaster, finding his eyes filled with empathy but a hint of knowing.
“I can assure you that Miss Iki will be fine,” Professor Tenjin said. “But if you know who did this, you need to tell me.”
Yato knew Yukine was clueless, but he wouldn’t risk his friend’s safety further. Nora would never admit it was her, and how could they even prove someone gave her the necklace? The last thing he needed was for her next curse to be successful.
“No, headmaster,” Yato said. “We saw nothing.”
~
Hiyori’s eyes cracked open, her head swimming and spinning as she slowly took in her surroundings. A high arched window opposite her showing a sunset – or was it a sunrise? Hiyori felt like she had slept for years, all sense and track of time lost to her.
Where am I?
Her head rolled to the other side of the pillow. A small cabinet was next to her bed, but this wasn’t her bed. Her bed was grandiose and looked like it belonged to a princess, but this bed was small and lumpy, too many cushions piled behind her and white sheets that matched the screening curtains around her.
Hiyori lay back again, briefly shutting her eyes and trying to manage the pounding in her head.
The infirmary…. Why am I here?
She let her loll to the other side of the pillow, letting out a deep sigh as she opened her eyes which quickly hitched in her throat.
Yato slumped over in a chair onto the bed, his weight pressing against the mattress. His head rested on his arm as he slept quietly at her bedside, but his other arm had snaked up to catch Hiyori’s hand in his own. His grip was slack, but she could still feel the warmth of his fingers entwined with hers.
Hiyori stared at him, stupefied at his presence and their current position.
How long had they been like this? Hiyori wondered.
She couldn’t help but stare at Yato. He looked younger when he slept, his dark fringe swept messily to one side showing his forehead which wasn’t creased in a frown as it usually was.
Hiyori shifted slightly, trying to lean further to peer at his relaxed face more closely but let out a hiss as a sharp pain cut through her right shoulder blade.
Hiyori flopped back against the pillows which had propped her up to alleviate the pain she had failed to notice when she woke. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the stabbing sensation with shuddering breaths as it prickled her skin.
“Hiyori?”
She felt a gentle squeeze on her hand – a small, cautious gesture that made her opened her eyes slightly, seeing that Yato had sat upright and was staring at her intently.
“Hey…” she croaked out, finding her voice had abandoned her.
Yato leaned forward, his free hand clutching their already entwined fingers.
Why is he shaking?
“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” He asked worriedly, gushing out questions faster than Hiyori could answer them.
“My shoulder...” Hiyori whispered, wincing at the motion of Yato’s grip irritated her injury further. Tears pricked at her eyes which she hurriedly blinked away before Yato could see them with his attentive gaze. Nevertheless, Yato quickly caught on and released her right hand.
“Sorry,” Yato whispered. Standing up and looking her straight in the eyes, Yato carefully took her hands in his, as if he feared he would hurt her again. His previously relaxed expression had changed into one of remorse, his eyes taking on a glassy look either from troubled sleep or unshed tears. “This is all my fault.”
Hiyori’s words failed as did her voice, deserting her, leaving her unable to tell him that he did nothing wrong, that he wasn’t the one to blame.
Hiyori's tears swelled and threatened to spill onto her warm cheeks as Yato bowed down, allowing himself to easily raise her hand to his face. He pressed his lips to the back of her hand, a motion that he was so accustomed to despite the initial embarrassment he felt the first time kissed Hiyori's hand at the Yule Ball.
Hiyori gazed at the top of Yato's bowed head, his height allowing her to see his eyes were gently closed as he lost himself in the moment. A flicker of a smile emerged on her lips as she stifled a sob or a laugh - either of which she could not tell apart – from escaping her.
Yato slowly pulled away, delicately releasing her hand.
“What happened to me, Yato?”
There was an edge in her voice, one that had Yato stop short. He let out a shaky breath. It was a question he knew would come and was pained to answer.
“You were cursed.”
Hiyori looked at him, confused, before the realisation dawned on her. The infirmary, the ache in her arm, the foggy memory that was pierced with an agony that splintered her body into fragments.
Yato tentatively sat on the bed, as if he hadn’t just been curled up fast asleep on it a few minutes ago. His hand lay just out of reach, and Hiyori wondered if he would take hers again in comfort. He didn’t.
“What do you remember? Who gave you the necklace?” Yato asked. He knew the answer to one of the questions at least, but Hiyori seemed to struggle to recall the last day.
“We went to the Three Broomsticks, and Honeydukes… but… then there’s nothing else.” Hiyori’s brow creased at the strained memory. “What necklace? What happened?”
“There was… a necklace… a cursed necklace,” Yato said, confused at why she had no recollection of what had happened. “It curses whoever touches it. Hiyori, are you sure you don’t know who gave it to you?”
“I don’t know…” Hiyori paused. Her fingers twitched involuntarily as the pain grew in her arm, no doubt the numbing potion the matron had given her wearing off. “But I knew I had to deliver it to someone.”
Yato’s ears pricked up, but he felt a gnawing dread in the pit of his stomach that had been there since he saw Hiyori suspended above the bridge. If Nora hadn’t intended the necklace to curse Hiyori, it meant that she had another target.
“Who, Hiyori?” Yato urged.
Hiyori’s eyes flickered for a second, conflicted at the memory before there was a moment of clarity.
“Professor Tenjin.”
~
Hiyori spent the rest of the day in the infirmary. Her broken arm had been mended and she was blessed with the knowledge that she had been very, very, lucky.
Yukine brought fresh flowers the morning Hiyori awoke to Yato asleep beside her, though by that time he had moved far enough away that Yukine was none the wiser of their interaction.
Yato and Yukine decided it was best to tell Professor Tenjin sooner rather than later about what Hiyori remembered. Leaving her in the infirmary, they told Professor Tenjin that, whilst Hiyori couldn’t remember who gave the necklace to her, she remembered it was to be delivered to him.
This revelation opened a whole new can of worms: someone wanted the headmaster dead. But why?
By the time Yato and Yukine returned to the hospital wing, the matron had allowed Hiyori to leave. With Hiyori’s memory, Yato now had a solid idea of what happened the previous day. He had painstakingly gone over it for hours, and he relayed his idea as Hiyori pulled on her shoes.
“So, the only way it happened is because Nora used the connecting tunnels under Hogwarts to give the necklace to Hiyori,” Yato finalised. He twiddled the bedsheets under his thumb and finger as he mulled over the sequence of events, a far off, disturbed look in his eye. “But it means that she used the Imperius curse on Hiyori to make her take it to the headmaster.”
The thought of Nora using the curse on her made Hiyori shudder, but it made sense. She would have never taken anything from Nora, not willingly, and to murder the headmaster was unthinkable.
Hiyori’s gaze caught on Yato’s scarf folded over the back of his chair. The memory of Yato wrapping it around her in Hogsmeade made heat rise to her cheeks as her eyes slid over to Yato. His gaze, thankfully, was still fixed on the wall.
“But with dark magic that strong, it must have been someone else – a Deatheater, probably – who also used the tunnel from the Shrieking Shack to bring it to Nora in the first place.” Yato snapped his gaze away from the spot on the wall he’d found and released the crumpled bedsheets. They had no way of knowing if Nora actually met someone down there, or who it would’ve been, or why they would be trying to kill Professor Tenjin.
“I still don’t know why you didn’t tell the headmaster about Nora,” Yukine growled. “He could’ve had her bang to rights.”
“Because,” Yato cut in. “How would you explain that Nora is a Deatheater who uses secret tunnels that practically no one knows about, to meet another Deatheater and pass off a cursed necklace to kill the headmaster for god knows what reason? Seems a bit farfetched, don’t you think?”
Yukine grumbled ‘where’s a vial of Veritaserum when you need it?’ before turning his attention back out the window at the snowy afternoon.
“Well,” Hiyori’s shoes made a soft tap on the stone floor as she stood up. Unused to the new feeling in her arm, she gingerly picked up her coat which had been hung on the screening rail by the matron. “Without proof, we can’t do anything. Just be thankful that necklace didn’t send any of us to St Mungo’s.”
Yato met Hiyori’s eye for the briefest of seconds before he looked away. Of all people, he was the most thankful that Hiyori wasn’t any more injured than she was, but he still felt a rush of heat in his chest whenever he thought about Nora using Hiyori and what happened to her. The same anger he felt when Sakura died.
For this anger, he knew he would make her pay.