Wraith

Dazai put the book he had been reading to the side; it was heavy and thick causing a soft thump to ring over the cart. Hermione sat opposite the new professor and Blaise across from himself.

The boy seemed to have grown a few more inches, as did Hermoine who was almost the same height as him. It was refreshing to be able to Blaise again, he had missed his gang, even with his new command in the Port Mafia it wasn’t the same.

It was lonely.

That was the main difference between Yokohama and the school. He had no one to rely on besides Mori back in Yokohama but at Hogwarts people where practically offering themselves to understand him. To be his friend.

“Where are the others?” It was strange to see the two as a pair, they often agreed due to their no-nonsense attitude regarding his schemes but never actually hung out, well outside of his study sessions in the library if Blaise chose to join him.

Hermione smiles at him, her eyes crinkle cutely but he sees something he doesn’t recognise swirling in her brown eyes. “They didn’t think we would be able to find you, so they stayed in the other cabin.”

“Right.”

Blaise is staring at him. His big brown eyes curious, and slightly squinted, his brows furrow as he continues to keep his gave on Dazai’s face. Then he looks him up and down.

Letting out a huff, Blaise deadpans, “You said you would write.”

He isn’t accused of anything; Blaise is just starting a fact. And yet Dazai has the same feeling he gets when Mori catches him tying another noose. “Aw, did Blaise miss me?”

“Yes.” Blaise hast allowed his eyes to stray from Dazai’s own, locked ferociously in a battle of will, to which Dazai immediately gives in.

“I was busy, okay, Mori was being a pest per usual. And I have no idea where Featherbrain is.” He shrugs but Hermione lets out a scandalized gasp.

Her face takes on one of a stern mother. “Dazai you must take better care of your pets!” He doesn’t say anything, just put his hands up as a show of surrender.

They sit in comfortable small talk for some time before Hermione lets the curiosity that had clearly been waying of her out; “So who is he?”

Her head titles in the direction of Professor Lupin who seemed to have covered his face further into his jacket. “I think he’s the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.” He lazy gesture to the suitcase above the professor’s head.

“Honestly, I’m just glad Lockhart has been fired. I don’t think I could take any more of his ‘I will exterminate the demon’ speech anymore.” Hermione and Blaise shared a look. “What?”

“Well, um, Lockhart.. well-”

“Lockhart hasn’t been fired. He is now doing transfiguration in Professor McGonagall’s place.” Dazai felt himself groan, staring at the ceiling. Just as he thought he could have a peaceful year!

Hermione looked at him with pitying eyes, “Well, surely after you defeated the Basilisk last year, he will leave you alone?” Oh. Dazai had almost forgotten that had happened. He was so preoccupied with Dumbledore and Mori and Lucius he had completely forgot his name had somewhat been cleared. It was like a weight had lifted off his shoulders.

Blaise clenched his fist in his hand. “What do you think happened to Dumbledore anyway?” He was hesitant in a way so unlike Blaise Dazai had to make sure he hadn’t wrapped the wrong eye.

Reaching into her gown pocket, Hermione brandished a paper dated to just after summer break had begun. The pages moved animatedly as pictures of different celebrities had their pictures taken. However, the most prominent photo was the only one staying still. The front page, which was torn and creased, showed a still image of Dumbledore smiling and waving.

She pointed to the start of one of the paragraphs, “As it says here, it is an unrecognisable spell. No one knows who it did, but rumours have it You-Know-Who has returned and sort revenge on Dumbledore for his defeat last time.”

Dazai had gathered little information about You-Know-Who or Voldemort and was eager to learn more. “Last time?” He questioned.

Hermione nodded melancholy, “Yes, thirteen years ago a man told You-Know-Who where a family who was opposing him at the time lived, the family of three was murdered in their own house. The Ministry was notified as he had used an unforgivable curse.”

It made sense, the Ministry could locate specific spells simply by using them. It was good to know- something he would report to Mori later.

“Furthermore, Dumbledore had already known what was happening and rushed over, but he was too late. It is said that he had a fight in the very house with Voldemort and barely won.”

“If he beat him before, why can’t he now?” Blaise questioned face blank as he pondered.

Thinking of his meeting with the Dark lord himself and what Lucius had believed before Mori had informed him it was in fact Dazai’s doing, Dazai formed an answer. “The Dark Lord is back. And he must be stronger.”

Hermione looked sceptical and had a rebuttal prepared however as she opened her mouth the train skidded to a halt. The sound of the breaks on the railroad was grating, as if someone was blending screws ad Dazai covered his ears with his hands.

Hermione sat straighter and looked outside the window as Dazai braced himself before opening the cabin door, people where peeking out of every way, and the noise of panicked chatter rose.

Somewhere down the train he could see a head of orange hair, they looked over, brows knitted together. He could see them shout something over the other occupants of the cart before going to make themselves over, but Dazai shook his head.

It was uncertain what was happening but from the look of things being together would only cause more crowding and panic.

The sky outside was grey, the clouds almost black and rain pelted across the windows. Hermione watched as ice cracked over the window. It was cold, unbearably so. Dazai had returned to his seat at Hermione’s command.

“These are Dementors! They are the guards at Azkaban.” She informed them. “Lock the door.” Dazai did as instructed before looking over the cart. It was so cold he could see his own breath and ice had covered every surface.

Well, that was almost true. Dazai had a healthy gap between him and the frost. It was certain it was a magical situation then. Everything was still. Everything was quiet. He couldn’t even hear the other carts.

Every now and then an almost hissing would fill the air. As if the basilisk was moving through the walls once more. It was dark too. Dazai had never liked the dark. The kennels only had a small lamp to illuminate the room. His father only ever kept on a matching pair of candles.

A soft mist caressed the outside of the train, the wind whistled its symphony of death. Crying. The train jostled, and he heaved forward and back several times.

Outside the door, a floating black mist, almost like a ragged, town, black coat floated by. It paid no mind to anyone in their cart. Then another one wisped by.

It all seemed to stop after several tense seconds. A dark hovering mass looked through the windows on either side of the door. Its tendrils of inky black cloth ran with the wind, moving like smoke.

It had skeletal, bony fingers that creaked and cracked as they curled in. The door to the cart opened without any complaint. Whooshing almost silently. Dazai held his breath. It was colder. Darker.

The thing looked right at Dazai, it skipped over Blaise and Hermione like spoiled food and Dazai was its dinner. Dazai couldn’t take his eyes away, it stared at him, and he did the same.

He couldn’t quite tell what he was looking at. Its face was marred, and it had no eyes nor nose. Only a mouth. Dazai lifted his hand to touch the being, despite his gloves curious to see its reaction. It opened its mouth, wide and teethless. Somehow that was more unsettling than rows of sharp poised teeth.

A sensation, cold and aching overtook him. He continued to stare up at it, its hand took his coat in a twisting grip. The cold seeped into his bones. The world around him blurred and he could hear the gnawing of the pound. Dogs barking all around him. It hurt his eyes, so he turned away.

He looked at Hermione who sat, tears in her eyes staring at the Dementor who was still towering over him. “Hermione, I think you should wake up the professor.” Blaise too looked terrified. His face screwed up.

However, as the teacher at his side moved to cast a spell, the Dementor let go. It whirled away, cloak billowing behind it.

“My boy, are you okay.”

Dazai nodded his head carefully, “Fine actually.”

Lupin looked at him with eyes cased in concern. “No need to be modest, the Dementors Kiss is a fate worse than death.” He proclaimed, he reached over to his jacket that lay discarded on the seat beside Dazai. He reached into his pocket pulling out a thin bar wrapped in tin foil, he passed it to Dazai. “Now if you would excuse me, I’ll have a word with the driver.”

With that the man excused himself. His appearance was odd- as Dazai had come accustomed to as all teachers at Hogwarts where peculiar- he had a winkled face with remnants of claw scratches, Dazai assumed from some sort of dog.

Furthermore, he had a moustache that matched the colour of his hair that was slightly wild from the coat previously over his body.

Clothing him was a greyed dress shirt and tie with sandy-brown dress trousers. Finally, he had an almost mustard yellow pair of dress shoes.

Dazai looked at the other inhabitants, “Did you hear it too? The growls?” He was doubtful but it would be necessary to find out what exactly had happened.

“What growls Dazai, it was almost silent.” Hmm. Interesting, it was likely that the Dementors had affected him differently than they would the average wizard due to No Longer Human.

That paired with the reaction the professor had, it should have been more painful or what not. He would have to visit the library sooner than anticipated at this rate.

Dazai absentmindedly itched at the bandages along his arms, “What are they doing here anyway, surely they are too dangerous.” He theorised. He remembers skimming them in passing when reading the Daily Prophet recently but had not been interested in the information as it seemed to have no relation to Hogwarts or the DOE.

“Precisely, they are a risk to the students! Just what is Professor McGonagall thinking.” Hermione lamented. “They are searching for Sirius Black. He has recently escaped from Azkaban, no one knows how though..” She trails off.

Hogwarts was just as Dazai remembers. It is large and beautiful. He follows Hermione and Blaise into a carriage, the Thestrals pulling the carriage are just the same and he wonders who else sees them. They spend the journey talking about their summers and other unimportant chatter.

And for a moment, just a moment, Dazai feels lighter. “Hermione, when do you plan to go to the library?” He knows she is planning a visit and Dazai needs to go there too, and he needs a guide.

“Hmm, I was thinking next Thursday.” She comments idly waving her hands. With that set he nods his head goodbye and walks with Blaise to the Slytherin table.

There were going to be a new set of first years, anxious little children bustling with joy. Fantastic. He could feel stares on his head as he trailed Blaise, it was disconcerting, Mori gave him a difficult mission.

The stares are nowhere near as malicious as the previous year, the press having dealt with their own problems and rumours of Dazai saving the school with Lockhart circulating. It was like a breath of fresh air.

However, that didn’t stop people from tensing at his presence or staring, gapping at him as he walked, large flowing coat behind him.

“Draco! Pansy. How are my favourite subordinates!” He wiggled his fingers at them.

Draco stares at him with a distaste unrivalled- well except for Pansy- and huffs dramatically, “Here I was thinking you wouldn’t return.”

Dazai clutches his chest. Blaise sits opposite Pansy, beside him, “How where your breaks?” Blaise is always the calm, civil one out of the group.

“Oh, it was so boring Blaise, mother kept insisting that I read ahead on the material and father-”

“Ew, who asked Pansy?”

“Blaise literally did!”

Draco cleared his throat, “The Malfoy’s where busy preparing for a business matter, it took all break, so I mainly hung out with Blaise.” Blaise nodded in response. Dazai assumed the matter itself was one regarding the Port Mafia.

Dazai smacked his face into the table, “Well mine was positively suicide inducing. Seriously, I’m thirteen why is Mori making me run around like some mutt.”

“..Right.”

Pansy just sneers at him, her face slightly red, “Well at least you didn’t cause any trouble.”

“Oh, well, a Dementor attacked me on the train. Does that count?” he spoke like talking about the weather.

Draco stared him down. “You’re kidding. He’s kidding.” He looked over to Blaise, “Oh.”

“The dumb thing probably though you were Sirus Black.” She spoke hushed.

Dazai scratched at his bandages, “Whatever it thought, I would appreciate not having my face sucked off.”

The other two teens went pale. “What do you mean!”

“Yeah, you couldn’t have survived the Dementors Kiss.”

Dazai shrugged at them, “It didn’t seem too ‘more painful than death’ to me.” Blaise shook his head like a disappointed father.

Before too long, the first years were introduced, they walked over to their respective tables and greeted their fellow house members. The children didn’t seem to know who was quite yet and he was almost at ease.

However, still he felt eyes on him. He looked around the hall aimlessly, he caught the eyes within a few circles. Lupin was watching him, his face tight but displacing when he caught Dazai staring back.

The other eyes where not so shameful, Snape assessed him from besides Lupin. He waved over but Snape just raised an eyebrow. Buzzkill.

With the first years sorted into their houses, the choir began singing. The rhythm was haunting, as were the lyrics the phrase “Something wicked this way comes.” Repeated like a mantra.

Continuing their serenade of the school, the food appeared a McGonagall swept her hand. Students filled their plates and stuffed their plates. Dazai picked some crab that Blaise had considerately left on his plate and began chewing mindlessly on it.

It wasn’t until McGonagall cleared her throat and the choir stopped singing did Dazai’s consciousness fade back into existence.

“Good evening, everybody. I’m sure you have all heard news of Dumbledores death, Hogwarts is deeply grieved and will be holding a minute of silence at the first Quidditch match of the season.”

She stepped in front of the podium she previously stood behind. “I have been appointed the permanent role of headmistress.” Hesitant claps rang out in the echoing hall. She silenced them with a hand

“And as such would like to address several issues. Any rumours surrounding Dumbledores passing, are strictly that, rumours. The Ministry has confirmed they are not true. Additionally, Hogwarts does not condone bullying, anyone seen partaking in such an activity will immediately be up for expulsion.”

McGonagall took a breath, she walked over to her podium once more, “Finally, taking over for me in Transfiguration will be Professor Lockhart, and our new Defence Against the Dark Arts position is Professor Lupin.”

She stepped back and allowed him the stand and receive applause. Dazai was internally grateful that he was useless at Transfiguration and would not have his grade suffer as a result of Lockhart’s petty narcissism. Not that he really cared.

Without further apprehension they were allowed back to their common rooms. Gemma stood in front of the Slytherin student body and led them to the dungeons.

On the walk down, Draco had pulled him to the side. “What did you do?”

Dazai hummed non-committedly. “Whatever do you mean?”

“My father, he asked me to keep an eye on you, report back to him.”

“Your father is a strange man.”

Draco looked at him with wide eyes, “Dazai. He says your dangerous.”

Dazai looked away, walking slightly away, his face had dropped, and his tone was blank when he looked over his shoulder at Draco “Well, at least he isn’t a fool.”

 He walked away, his coat eating at the space behind him, great, now he was in a bad mood.

Taking a deep breath, Dazai prepared himself and caught up with the group, Draco was there too but cast off to the side a pensive look on his face.

One thing Dazai had not missed was the bone-deep cold that encompassed him in the Slytherin quarters. He walked through and found his luggage waiting for him.

On the top of his bed sat an owl, Featherbrain, with a letter gripped in her beak, it had swirled letters and a wax stamp with the letter ‘M’ in the middle.

This year was going to be a real pain.