Chapter Text
All of Hogwarts agreed, as rare as that may be, that Ryuunosuke Akutagawa was the most disagreeable child to have ever walked the premises.
Just one look at him gave Harry an unpleasant feeling. There was, of course, his Slytherin uniform, which the Gryffindor had already come to instinctively know as a harbinger for trouble. The ebony robe engulfed his scrawny frame in a way that Harry could begrudgingly relate to, having not long ago endured wearing Dudley’s enormous sizes. Though Harry was far from a healthy weight, his time at Hogwarts had still filled him out to an extent. The same couldn't be said for Akutagawa, whose sunken cheeks never rounded and bony knuckles protruded every time he grasped his wand.
His sickly face overall reflected his rottenness. Harry had never seen the boy smile, unless in response to a cruel victory, like the time he'd knocked a poor Hufflepuff girl over for walking too close to him. Even then it wasn't quite a smile, but rather a twisted smirk, his pale countenance wrinkling in what Harry could only see as sick satisfaction, before the boy covered his mouth to cough. Besides those moments, his usual expression was always scathing as those soulless, grey eyes bore into anyone who came across him.
Harry could go on. Akutagawa’s attitude was nothing short of foul. “That’s why he’s got no friends; the bloke is that bad!” Ron had said, and while Harry wouldn't verbally phrase it in the same manner, he shared that same sentiment. Not a student nor teacher could claim to harbor even neutral feelings towards Akutagawa. Harry heard that even the ghosts dispersed at his presence and that paintings threw themselves at the edge of their frames when he walked by.
There was no question as to why. Every word uttered by Akutagawa was downright loathsome. If it was not an insult, it was a critique. If it was not a critique, it was a threat. Akutagawa had the decency to slightly curb his behavior around teachers, but he was still far from pleasant.
It was surprising to find that Akutagawa lacked Slytherin acquaintances. That house was full of similarly foul individuals. Though, further thought cleared the discrepancy; Akutagawa was muggle-born. The first muggle-born to be sorted into Slytherin for decades, in fact, if the rumors were true. The wizarding world had only known the boy for two months, for he came from Yokohama, Japan. Why he was obligated to attend a school on an entirely different continent was left up to the wild speculations of gossiping first years.
But Harry had no doubt that the boy belonged in that house, and so did the Sorting Hat. Indeed, Akutagawa’s sorting was such a bizarre sight that, right in the moment, Harry knew he wouldn't forget it for a long time.
Akutagawa sat stiffly upon the stool, his head downturned as he glared at nothing as usual. Professor McGonagall was in the motion of lowering the hat to rest on his head when the Sorting Hat jerked within her grasp, the fabric folds that made up its face stretching into an expression of pure horror.
“SLYTHERIN!” it bellowed, louder than the other declarations, with such abject certainty despite Harry being confident it had hardly brushed a hair on his head.
The whole ordeal was mostly why Harry felt so headstrong in his dislike of Akutagawa. What better evidence of his rottenness than a brief glimpse into his memories horrifying the Sorting Hat?
One would assume such a display would immediately hail Akutagawa as the ultimate Slytherin. And Harry was certain it would-- if it weren't for his muggle-born blood. And perhaps even besides his heritage, Akutagawa’s personality was simply intolerable to the most sympathetic of Hufflepuffs and the most vile of Slytherins.
That was Ryuunosuke Akutagawa, the boy without emotions. That was who he had made himself out to be.
For the time of year, Harry made it to the Grand Hall without hearing a word about Akutagawa.
The reason greeted him the second he passed the threshold-- the aroma of pumpkin pie and caramel apples wafting through the air like a siren song, compelling him to hasten to the Gryffindor table and have his fill of Hogwarts’ iconic Halloween banquet.
“This, Harry!” Ron spoke and chewed, bits of mashed potatoes flying from his lips. “This is what Halloween’s about!”
Just when Harry thought nothing could disturb the evening, the doors to the Great Hall flew open. Professor Quirrell came rushing inside, face taut in horror, nearly tripping over his robes as he hurried to Professor Dumbledore’s side.
He uttered, “Troll-- in the dungeons-- thought you ought to know,” before crumpling to the ground in a cold faint.
The room erupted into chaos.
After an excruciating period of panic, the prefects eventually managed to herd their houses out of the Great Hall and toward their dorms.
Harry was walking alongside Ron through the halls when he faltered. “Hold on, Ron. Did you see Akutagawa at the feast?”
Ron gave him an incredulous look. “Mate, I was worrying about other things! Like, when the food would stop coming--”
“I just thought-- he doesn’t know about the troll.”
Ron paused. He then burst into laughter.
Harry frowned. “I’m going to try to find him. Trust you won't snitch?”
Ron laughed harder, wiping tears from his eyes. “Blimey, Harry! There’s a troll running around; you ought to take this more seriously!”
But when Ron opened his eyes, sure to see his friend grinning as well, Harry was gone.
Harry strode down the hall, anger fueling his every step.
I’m just doing what’s right. I’m just doing what’s right. The mantra playing in his head wasn’t entirely successful in rationalizing his actions to himself.
Akutagawa had been nothing but rude to Harry in the past. The two were often paired together as partners in potions class (Harry was convinced it was out of Professor Snape’s malice against him), and those times have always been miserable.
“Are you illiterate, Potter? The instructions say the exact opposite.”
“Sit straight. I’ve seen hunchbacks with better posture than you.”
“Are you certain you didn’t get that scar from being dropped on the head as an infant?”
The boy even had the audacity to slap away Harry’s hand when it accidentally touched him while reaching for the aconite.
So, why was Harry looking for Akutagawa?
I’m just doing what’s right.
Perhaps.
Or, he begrudgingly admits, there was something about Ron's lack of concern for the boy’s safety that angered him more than every jab Akutagawa had ever sent him.
Harry found himself in the nearest boy’s restroom, led purely by a hunch.
As he gauged the area, he worried that he was wrong. The room was silent and barren, as far as he could tell.
Maybe Akutagawa was elsewhere. Maybe he already caught wind of the commotion and had safely been evacuated to the Slytherin common room. Maybe Harry had been foolish… and this had been a waste of time and hope.
Hairs on the back of his neck stood. The sensation compelled him to turn around at once. When he did, he was upon the sight of Ryuunosuke Akutagawa himself, clearly frozen mid-gait on his way out of the restroom.
Even though it felt clear to Harry that Akutagawa was the one who had been caught, the boy would school his composure so quickly-- cloaking himself with the usual air of hostility and schooling his face into the expected scowl-- that it was Harry who was overcome with self-consciousness.
Harry knew he should match his energy, keep his head high, and show his refusal to crumple under that stinging stare. But he found that the anger kindling within him moments ago-- the flames warming his heart and numbing his reason… was absent. They had been snuffed out entirely. All that was left was a dull pile of ash-- an emotion he never thought he would ever feel for someone like Akutagawa.
Pity.
It must have shown on his face, as the glare Akutagawa was fixing him with intensified. Harry swallowed but stood his ground.
“So,” he started, softly, “you weren’t at the feast.”
Somehow, Akutagawa looked angrier. Harry was impressed at this point.
Before he could be on the receiving end of a threat to his life, Harry spoke again. “I reckon you were the only student absent. No one wanted to miss out on the food.”
“Get to the point, Potter.” Akutagawa bared his teeth doggishly. “I have no patience for your babbling.”
Harry sighed. “Fine, then. Where are you going?”
“I fail to see how that is any of your business--”
“It’s nowhere, isn’t it?” Harry interrupted. “You have nowhere to go.”
The statement didn’t garner the expected reaction. Akutagawa didn’t stagger in disbelief or parry the remark with a scathing retort of his own.
He merely stood there. His countenance lost the slightest bit of its edge.
Harry went on. “Even for normal meals, you never show up. I thought you were busy, but surely not every day. It has to be the company, right? You’re muggle-born, so the Slytherins gave you a hard time. And you’ve got no one from the other houses to sit with. There’s nowhere for you to go, is that it?”
The room fell silent. Harry could hear his heart racing, an anxious rhythm pounding methodically as he awaited Akutagawa’s response. Staring down the frail boy, Harry’s heart quickened-- though not in fear.
Perhaps it was a trick of the light of sorts that could explain it away-- rationalize the slight shimmer of moisture and faint redness in Akutagawa’s eyes. But Harry knew better. He knew that face-- he had worn it several times before. The smears of wetness around the eyes, evidence of a hasty job of putting rough sleeves rather than towels to work-- Harry knew it all too well. Pity only further swelled in his deeply sympathetic gut.
If Akutagawa knew what he was thinking, he didn't at all appreciate the sentiment.
“You think you have me all figured out, don’t you?” he hissed.
Yet the words fell over Harry not like rain pellets of a furious thunderstorm-- rather, a gentle breeze, which merely washed over him, cold to the touch, yet noticeably subdued. It was as if Akutagawa had stopped trying.
“No…” Harry sent him a gentle smile. “But I hope to.”
Akutagawa scoffed and pivoted to face away from him. “Is that truly all you came here to discuss? You're insufferable.”
Harry blinked. “No, I came to tell you that there's a…”
His heart stilled.
“A what?” Akutagawa rolled his eyes. “I don't have time to humor your dawdling…”
“A troll.”
“What?”
“A troll!” Harry shouted, the realization surprising him all over again. “There's a troll somewhere around-- how did I forget?-- I came to warn you!”
He moved toward the restroom's exit, gesturing for Akutagawa to follow. “We've got to get to our common rooms, come on!”
His hand barely made it to the doorknob.
BANG!
The door slammed open, knocking Harry off his balance. He was about to complain to whoever had carelessly burst into the room when… He looked up.
Harry looked up at the looming form of the troll before him in terror, too fixated on its lumpy face, large teeth, and thick limbs to think to dodge the swing of its club coming down upon him--
The world surged backwards. Harry found himself airborne for a moment-- the wind rushing through his ears-- before he crashed onto the ground. He yelped on impact and hastened to straighten his crooked glasses to take in the scene around him.
As reality focused once more, Harry saw Akutagawa standing with his back to him, hands casually shoved in his cloak’s pocket as he stared down the enormous troll.
Then a pressure around his waist he hadn't registered until now suddenly loosened. He could only make out the afterimages of a long, black cloth whizzing away from him before settling into the black void of Akutagawa’s robe.
There was no time to question it. Not when the troll was raising its wooden club once more, ready to deal a devastating blow to Akutagawa.
Harry gasped and scrambled to his feet. He couldn't just sit there and watch-- someone was in danger!
“Akutagawa!” Harry yelled. “Move!”
But Akutagawa remained still. His expression was not like Harry’s. It was the opposite. Harry couldn't understand it at all. He couldn't understand why Akutagawa looked so calm, as if his life wasn't in obvious peril.
Nothing Harry could do would be fast enough to save Akutagawa. His eyes widened in horror at the realization. Was he about to see something unforgettable? No-- No! He wouldn't allow it! Even if he wouldn't make it, he had to try. This is more than what is right.
Harry broke into a mad dash to Akutagawa.
But the club was far closer to him than Harry would ever be.
He was…
Too late?
A voice bellowed a beckon, unlike any spell imaginable.
“RASHOUMON!”
From the abyss of Akutagawa's cloak erupted the head of a demonic beast. Its shadowy silhouette, of jagged corners and whipping edges, sharpened as if it had absorbed all light from the world to compose its hellish grin.
Even the troll had frozen in horror.
Akutagawa’s blank expression then intensified into a diabolical one not unlike the monster he spawned-- his eyes and lips widening into a wild smile that looked so strange on his face... and yet so natural.
The beast billowed forward, its mouth opened and its sharp canines revealed.
And in an instant, the troll's head vanished into the jaws of the summoned beast.
Its wooden club rolled out of its grasp and hit the floor first. Then after came its decapitated body, timbering to the ground with a resounding thud.
The monster visibly swallowed, the troll's head digested into… nothing.
The world was silent.
Harry watched, stunned, as Akutagawa approached the troll’s corpse, his hands still having never left his pockets.
He leered over the body, then rasped once more, “Rashoumon.”
The beast rushed again to the troll, this time engulfing its body whole into its jaws. And in the next moment, the troll was gone, as if it had never been at all.
The demon flew back to Akutagawa’s cloak, out of existence.
The boy then turned around, seemingly finally acknowledging Harry. He opened his mouth to speak, and Harry leaned in, desperate to hear his next words, hoping for some sort of explanation-- some sort of reason for everything he had just witnessed.
Akutagawa only managed to utter a singular syllable before he clasped his hand over his mouth and coughed.
At that same moment, Professor McGonagall came rushing into the restroom, with Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell not far behind.
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. “What on earth are you two doing here? Why aren't you in your common rooms?”
Snape glared at Harry, surely already thinking of every conceivable explanation for the situation that was particularly unfavorable to only him.
“Were you trying to play the hero again, Mister Potter?” He sneered. “Defeat the troll yourself?”
And then, topping what just happened with the troll, indisputably came the most bizarre moment of the night for Harry.
Akutagawa interjected. “No, sir. I left the Great Hall on my own. I wanted to… see if I could fight the troll and win. The troll passed by, and Potter pulled me in here. I would be dead if he hadn't come.”
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was Ryuunosuke Akutagawa, the terror of Hogwarts, the boy without emotions… covering for Harry?
Professor McGonagall frowned. “And where did the troll go?”
Harry hastened to speak up. “We didn't see but maybe further down the hall?”
Professor McGonagall curtly nodded. “You boys are very lucky, understand? Especially you, Mister Akutagawa. How could you think of defeating a mountain troll on your own?”
Akutagawa lowered his head.
She then turned to Harry. “You were no less reckless than Mister Akutagawa here by going off on your own. However, your assistance here was certainly invaluable. You win two points for Gryffindor, but I never want to see you pull any such risky behavior again, understand?”
Harry nodded.
“Mister Akutagawa,” said Snape. “That will be five points taken from Slytherin for your foolishness. The both of you, get to your common rooms at once. Professor Dumbledore will be notified about this.”
The two left the chambers and stepped back into the hallway. Akutagawa turned to head off to the Slytherin dungeon.
“Wait, Akutagawa,” Harry called.
The boy paused.
Harry swallowed. “You… covered for me. Why?”
Akutagawa was silent. Harry looked at his form-- at the black robes that had summoned a monster… that had saved his life.
Akutagawa coughed. “I am not a mindless instigator forever against you, Potter. I know when courtesies are owed.”
He turned his head to give Harry his signature glower. “However, don't take this as an offering for friendship or a gesture of amenity. That will never come between us.”
He then stalked off into the shadows.
Harry turned and made his way over to his common room. He thought of the glare Akutagawa sent him before walking off. Normally it would send a shiver down his spine or rile him up into arguing. But here? Harry felt nothing towards it.
Whether it was because Harry’s unfavorable view of Akutagawa was staggering by the minute or because Akutagawa had lessened his glower into something more benign for his sake… Harry wasn't sure.
Wait.
Harry frowned. A courtesy, Akutagawa had said. A courtesy for… what? Checking up on him?
“Pig snout,” he murmured to the Fat Lady before entering his common room.
Harry was once certain of the boy's arcane and mysterious character. It was strange how, in merely one evening, he felt as if he had unwound the first mystery behind Ryuunosuke Akutagawa for good.
Was he a Death Eater? A vampire? Possessed by ghosts?
Nothing of the sort. He was actually…
The next day, Harry and Ron were on their way to the Great Hall. The daily gossip, which permeated the trek as usual, had been drastically amped up following yesterday’s fiasco. No matter where you went, there would be speculation surrounding the mysterious troll: how it got in, where it went, if Quirrell actually hallucinated it-- the vivid imaginations of the students were unmatched at rationalizing the whole ordeal.
Harry sighed in relief. Even from the perspective of someone who knows exactly what occurred, the wild speculations did not irk him. He was merely thankful their topic of slander wasn't…
Harry called out without thinking. “Akutagawa!”
Ron shot him a bewildered look. Harry ignored it and stepped through the crowd, making his way over to the boy.
He stopped a few paces away from him, a kind smile on his lips.
“Akutagawa, want to sit with us?” he offered.
The corridor fell silent. Harry kept his smile as he awaited a response. The boy in question’s face was shifting rapidly. It first widened into shock before scrunching up into confusion and then settling on annoyance.
Akutagawa rolled his eyes. “Absolutely not, Potter. Away with your nonsense.”
Then he stalked away.
Ron ran up to stand beside Harry, asking if he had lost his bloody mind? Harry ignored him. He stared at the spot where Akutagawa once stood.
A moment like this would ignite flames, yet Harry only found ash. He wasn’t bothered whatsoever. Really, he should’ve anticipated such a response from the beginning. Someone like Akutagawa wouldn’t be won over that easily. That boy was prickly (supposedly), foul (apparently), and disagreeable (seemingly).
It was who Ryuunosuke Akutagawa made himself out to be, the boy without emotions. Though Harry was beginning to doubt if that was entirely the truth.