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Hiyori returned home for Christmas break as her parents had missed her for the last two years, leaving Yato and Yukine to their devices as they stayed at Hogwarts. The Dementors, to Yato’s dismay, would also be accompanying them for the festive period as the prisoner was still on the run.
Hiyori’s owl delivered presents to the pair on Christmas day, and Yato sent her a new sweet trick with his ‘coo phone’. He hoped her parents wouldn’t mind sugar-paper mice in their home.
Yukine insisted on dragging his new cat along everywhere he went. Even though Yukine had managed to get most of the dirt out of its fur, the cat – which remained unnamed – was still gross enough for Yato to want to avoid it. Something about its unblinking eyes was… off-putting.
Thankfully, the cat seemed to hate their time together as much as he did as it would wander off to explore the castle by itself, before being hunted down by Yukine and returned to Hufflepuff’s dorms for the night.
The Christmas break passed quickly, and before long the dorms were filled once more by students unpacking from the holidays and settling into another term as classes filled their time once more. It turned out, when they met Hiyori again, that her mother wasn’t too keen on the mice.
January made the snow trickle away and leave the castle cold and damp with wet weather. Relentless lashings of rain rapped on the window pains and uprooted several trees. Regardless of the foul weather, the Ravenclaw vs Slytherin Quidditch match went underway.
The podiums were nearly empty as barely any students had come out to watch the match, save for Hiyori and Yukine (who wasn’t commentating this time around), who were drenched despite their waterproofs.
Yato hovered near Kazuma like he normally did, though this time he struggled to stay upright on his broom as the wind howled. Yato had no chance of finding the Snitch in this weather, but with Kazuma’s freakishly good eyesight, he would be able to outrace him when he located it.
It felt like they sat for hours waiting, but eventually Kazuma took off - so quickly that Yato nearly fell backwards off his broom as he tried to get a grip and race after him. A few players had fallen already, the conditions making it impossible for anyone to see the Quaffle, let alone score in the torrential rain.
The Snitch was the only thing that could end all of this.
The first tendrils of white fire sliced the sky followed closely by a thunderous roar, lighting the jagged rain clouds. Rain pelted Yato like hail the further he flew into the sky, drenched clothes plastered flat to his body and his hair sticking across his eyes. His hands clenched the broom in a vice grip, the damp leather of his gloves and the slick wood threatened to end his Quidditch career in one big 'splat'.
Several meters ahead of him, Kazuma was a blur of navy against the dark sky--when suddenly, he vanished. Yato had no idea where he went, but the glittering of the Snitch that was continuously lit up by the flashing lightning was enough to guided him closer and closer until he reached out a shaky hand.
The cold struck him immediately. It was as if winter had returned with vengeance, but brought a sinister, deathly aura with it that promised no escape from what was hiding in the dark.
Yato felt his lungs tighten at the familiarity, and his eyes dropped from the Snitch to the ground below.
No, no, no –
The first ones came out like old rags that had been left to soak in the rain and been torn away by the wind, dripping wet and moving with heavy movements as they approached Yato with outstretched arms.
There was a silence so loud that it muffled the wind and the rain and the inhaling sound Yato knew they were making as they came closer. Only one thought came to Yato’s head.
Up.
His hands clenched the broom so hard that it felt like he wasn’t holding it at all, fear taking over as he tried to get as far away as possible from the Dementors that he knew were growing in number and gaining on him.
Yato twisted his broom to a hard right when he saw them approach. Spinning upside down, Yato - miraculously - righted himself. He couldn’t go down; they were there, blocking his view of the pitch and the view of any spectators who would realise what was happening and alert the Headmaster.
What do I -, the question screaming in Yato’s head didn’t finish, nor did it need answering. A deeper cold swept over him when a Dementor glided above him, its face inches from Yato’s.
He could feel the air shimmer in front of him as his world became devoid of feeling the despair of the Dementor’s Kiss, and his body went slack.
He doesn’t feel like he’s falling.
~
Yato’s world swam back into focus in the form of white linen and worried faces, namely Hiyori’s and Yukine’s.
He didn’t notice that he was still drenched from the rain – which continued to lash the infirmary’s windows – and was soaking the bedspread where his hair and muddy clothes had seeped rainwater. The only thing that had been removed was his gloves, leaving his hands cold and shaking slightly when he flexed them, not really believing he was alive.
“Yato?” Hiyori asked tentatively. She saw his eyes crack open and stare blankly at her, almost like he couldn’t focus on her.
Yato blinked a few times. The familiar pounding in his head was almost gone, and as soon as the haziness cleared and he remembered the Dementors, Yato bolted upright.
“What happened?!” Yato blurted out, too frantic to notice the worried hand Hiyori placed on his arm to steady him. Hiyori and Yukine exchanged shifty glances.
“Well,” Hiyori said nervously, “We saw you fall, but you started to slow down -.”
“You pretty much slammed into the ground by the time the Headmaster caught you,” Yukine interjected.
Hiyori chewed her lip at Yato’s bewildered stare that flickered between the two of them. Muddy drips ran from the tips of his hair and carved clear paths through the dirt stains on his face before dripping onto the bed.
“And the…” Yato started to say, but the words dried up in his mouth.
Hiyori gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “They were sent away by Professor Tenjin.”
Yato nodded duly, but one question raced through his head: Why did they attack him?
They sat in silence for a moment, Hiyori not removing her hand from Yato’s arm and Yukine looking up at the storm outside. Neither of them wanted to break the news, but when Yato asked, they had no choice.
“Where’s my broom?”
Hiyori looked to Yukine, who sighed and walked to the foot of the bed.
Yukine picked up a bundled cloak – not Yato’s, as his was stuck flat to his back. This one was navy blue, lent to them by Kazuma who had caught the Snitch before realising what had happened. Most oddly about the bundle was its shape, but when Yato caught a glimpse of splintered wood when Yukine dumped in at Yato’s feet, he knew what was inside.
Carefully unwrapping it, Yukine simply said: “The Whomping Willow got it.”
The broom was completely obliterated. Half of the bristles had been shredded to stumps whilst the other half were missing completely. Parts of it seemed to be missing as the shaft was there, but the curved groove where ‘Nimbus 2000’ had been inscribed was missing.
“I’m sorry…” Hiyori glumly said, but Yato shook his head.
“It’s just a broom.”
New footsteps came into the room, catching their attention as the curtain was pulled apart to reveal the visitor.
Professor Daikoku, his expression not as gruff as before, looked at them each in turn before his eyes rested on Yato.
“May I have a moment?”
Slightly taken aback, Yato nodded, giving a cue for Hiyori and Yukine to stand up. Hiyori gave Yato’s downcast expression a small smile, saying that they would catch him later. The curtain shut behind them and when their footsteps had left, Professor Daikoku took a seat.
His brow was furrowed, eyes scanning the smashed broom that still lay on the bed and the muddiness of Yato’s boots that had ruined the white sheets.
Yato sat awkwardly silent, wondering why his Dark Arts professor was visiting him in the infirmary. He noticed that his hair had grown but somehow still kept its slicked back appearance. The stubble that roughened his chin gave him a deceptively older appearance, and for a second Yato wondered how old he really was.
Any questions flitting in his mind were dispersed by Professor Daikoku’s sudden question.
“This is the second time, yes?” At the lack of an answer from Yato, coupled with his blank expression, he prompted, “With the Dementors?”
Yato oh-ed before letting a beat pass. Second time at Hogwarts, yes. But the other times …
“Yeah.”
Professor Daikoku leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together. He looked at Yato levelly, and all of a sudden, he felt like a child.
“Do you know what the Patronus charm is?”
Yato shook his head.
Professor Daikoku straightened up, arms folded across his chest. “A Patronus is a positive force that can repel dementors using a happy memory.”
“Like a shield?” Yato asked, to which the teacher nodded. It was the first time Yato had heard of such a spell.
“I’d like to teach you it, since you have an affinity for their attacks,” Professor Daikoku stood up as he said this, hand already on the curtain to leave, “unfortunately I won’t be able to help until next weekend. My office.”
Yato nodded at this, managing a ‘thank you’ before the professor left the room, leaving Yato alone with his thoughts. He flopped back on the bed, feet kicking pieces of the broom which clattered the floor.
Of course he wouldn’t know what a Patronus charm was.
How could you teach it to someone with no happy memories?
~
Yato followed behind the Headmasters party which seemed to consist of Professor Tsuyu and a few other people he didn’t recognise. As soon as he saw them leave the carriage, Yato knew he had to follow. There was something that Professor Tenjin wasn’t telling him, whether it was about the prisoner or the Dementors.
Either way, he was going to find out.
He kept his paces quiet as he followed, hoping they wouldn’t hear the extra pair of footsteps following behind as he slipped into the private room above the pub where the adults had taken sanctuary.
Trying to keep his breathing as quiet as he could, Yato stood in the corner of the room and listened to the unfolding conversation.
“The Dementors have been coming into my pub looking for this prisoner!” A middle-age witch, who Yato presumed to be the landlady, ranted.
Professor Tenjin’s forehead was scrunched as if he had a painful migraine. Professor Tsuyu was sat by his side, pouring a tea pot into two cups on the low table between the two sofas.
“It’s to be expected,” another person he didn’t know, a man wearing formal black robes sitting on the sofa opposite the teachers, “after all, the prisoner was seen here a few days ago.”
“Who is this prisoner?” the landlady asked, anger quenching as she dropped into the seat beside the stranger. Her head was directed at Professor Tenjin who rubbed his temple with a forefinger, eyes closed as he spoke.
“Only in these dire consequences. She is nameless to the public, to preserve her true identity and the severity of the crimes she committed.”
Yato’s felt his breath hitch and the world seemed to stand still. He heard a sigh from the headmaster as he opened his eyes.
All eyes were on Tenjin.
Yato couldn’t feel his lungs burning for air, too intent on finding out who this woman was, which he knew could help him understand why she was so desperate to see him dead.
But when he heard her name, he wished that he already was.
“She’s the right hand of the Sorcerer. Her name is Sakura.”
~
The next thing Yato knew, he was running down the stairs and out of the door, nearly tripping in the snowdrifts and alarming the people who he knocked over beneath his invisibility cloak. He heard his name being shouted, but he didn’t have to stop or turn to know that Hiyori and Yukine were chasing after him.
He couldn’t hear anything but the blood pounding in his ears and the ragged breathing that made the cloak so stifling hot that Yato felt that he was going to be sick.
His feet took him away from the village until there was nothing but him and a white world of evergreen trees that had been laden with fresh snow. He slowed down, lungs burning with frost, and when he rubbed his cheeks his gloves came away damp.
Yato sank to the ground behind a snow-capped rock, the cloak still hiding him from Yukine and Hiyori who he could hear calling for him. He drew his knees to his chest, burying his head in them with his arms locked around his legs, and stayed still, wishing that he would disappear.
The voices stopped after a moment replaced by soft footsteps crunching in the snow, coming closer until they were right in front of him. He heard the shifting of material and the cloak was gently pulled off his head.
“Yato?” Hiyori’s voice was soft, but it still jolted Yato when she placed her hands on his.
He didn’t look up.
“Yato?” she asked again. Her fingers gently worked on loosening his hands as they were knuckle-white and shaking. Hiyori hooked her fingers with his and gave them a squeeze.
“What happened?” Yukine asked. He stood at Yato’s side, awkwardly placing a hand on his shoulder and casting a worried look at Hiyori. Neither of them had ever seen Yato like this.
A psychopathic Death Eater who may or may not be the Prisoner of Azkaban is someone I know and is currently trying to kill me, Yato thought. None of that would make sense. Not when they didn’t know…
Yato raised his head, thankful that Hiyori and Yukine didn’t say anything about his puffy eyes or running nose.
“The Prisoner is definitely trying to kill me,” Yato said shakily. It wasn’t a lie, but the look Yukine and Hiyori exchanged made him elaborate.
“I couldn’t take Nora’s word for it. Why did she go to Gryffindor Tower if I’m in Slytherin?” Yato asked.
He had a point – even if he did believe Nora before finding out for himself. But if the Prisoner was after him, then why did she go to the Tower?
A thousand questions tumbled over each other in Yato’s head, too fast for him to answer and building so much that Yato felt like it would be easier to give up.
But why was she trying to kill him?
Who was the Sorcerer?
Did he break her out to kill him?
Why not just send someone who wasn’t going to start a nationwide witch-hunt?
Was Father involved?
Yato closed his eyes, rubbing his nose against his folded arms before noticing that Hiyori’s fingers were still linked with his. He raised his head and gave them a squeeze, and she squeezed back, smiling sadly.
“It’s ok!” Yato exclaimed with a laugh, but it was choked as he dragged a hand over his eyes. His smile warbled dangerously as he tilted his head to look at Yukine.
Neither Yukine or Hiyori bought Yato’s attempt at lightening the mood.
And honestly, neither did Yato.