InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Demon Hunter ❯ Return ( Chapter 21 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Chapter 21

Harry was meters from crossing the wards surrounding the castle when a silver blur shot past him and crossed over first, landing swiftly on other side.

“I win!” Inu Yasha grinned. Harry landed next to him looking bewildered.

“Hey! You were holding out on me!” he accused in mock anger.

“Not really, I just prefer not to travel that fast.”

“It's the same thing,” Harry deadpanned.

“About face and march,” was the half-demon's response, moseying past Harry and towards the castle. Harry stood his ground for a few seconds longer blinking, and once again found himself seriously doubting his mentor's sanity.

But the time he caught up to Inu Yasha he saw that he had changed his appearance to human.

“Are you going in the castle?” he asked.

“Yup.”

“uh...ok. why?”

“I like the architecture.”

“No really, why?”

“I hope you know,” Inu Yasha said as they approached the doors, ignoring Harry's earlier question, “that everyone pretty much thinks your dead.”

“What!?”

“Yeah—Dumbledore pretty much assumed that and announced it to everyone.”

Harry moaned and covered a hand over his eyes, “and here I was hoping to get away with `I missed the train',”

“You could still try that...” Inu Yasha said thoughtfully.

“Inu Yasha...”

“Oh, who the hell cares what they think! It's lunchtime anyways and—damn boy, you need a shower!”

Harry furrowed his brow and glanced down at himself, finally noticing the clothes he had been in for nearly the last month were torn, bloody, and oily. His personal scent was stronger than what he knew to be usual, mixed unpleasantly with the strong odor of sweat, grime, and demon blood.

“Climb the wall, take a shower, and then walk around like you own the place.”

“But I'm hungry,” Harry pouted.

“So stop at the kitchens, bitch. Now go.”

Not bothering to wonder why he was listening to Inu Yasha in the first place, Harry turned tail and began leaping from window sill to window sill, hoping he was moving too fast for anyone to notice him before he finally landed on what he knew to be the ledge of the Griffindor sixth year dormitory. Luckily, due to the warm day, the window was slightly ajar, and Harry was able to squeeze in with out triggering any wards that might have been in place. He stood and looked around the once vacant room. It pretty much resembled his dormitory last year except for one bed, which looked completely untouched with no possessions littered around it like the others were.

Smiling, Harry took out his trunk and un-shrunk it, placing it at the foot of his bed like usual. He then took out a fresh set of clothes, some toiletries, and headed off to the showers.

The shower took approximately a half an hour, due to the washing and re-washing of his body and hair—though the chemicals in the soap burned his nose. He noticed, while he was in there, that he had a few more silver stripes on his body than he realized. There was one on the side of each hipbone and three going up each side of his torso.

After he was showered, changed, and made sure his glamour charm was still in place he decided to go down to the kitchens to eat. He had almost made it there without running into someone when a group of giggling girls interrupted the path to his meal. The girls and their giggling stopped the moment they spotted him, though he kept walking, ignoring their stared. He vaguely recognized Marietta Edgecombe as part of the group and idly wondered how she got the sneak off her face.

“Excuse me ladies,” he said pleasantly. She parted silently, still gawking at his as though they had seen a ghost. He rounded the corner and the second he left their eyesight a flurry of girlish screams echoed throughout the hallway.

`Talk about a delayed reaction,' Harry thought laughing. He ran to the portrait he needed, tickled the pear, and entered the kitchen before any of the girls caught up with him. Before he could turn around, something tackled his legs, almost knocking him clean off his feet.

“Mr. Harry Potter sir has returned! Dobby knew he was not dead, sir, Dobby knew it he did! Dobby knew the good and great Harry Potter sir would return and fight the bad wizards!” the fidgety house elf squealed into Harry's knees.

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry grumbled, not liking the prickly smell house elves gave off. The kitchen was simply filled with it.

“Mr. Harry Potter sir must be very hungry. Dobby knows this because Mr. Harry Potter sir's tummy is saying so.”

Harry blushed and put a hand on his stomach, willing it to shut up.

“Yeah a bit,” he said. Dobby looked positively gleeful.

“What is Mr. Harry Potter sir wanting? He is having anything he is wanting!”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Er...do you have ramen?”

0o0o0o0o

The great hall was bustling as usual for a Thursday afternoon lunch. Everyone was dining with splendid conversation, preparing for their next classes, when the doors to the great hall opened with a bang, and in came...a group of hysterical, seventh year, ravenclaw girls

“He's back, he's back! He's alive!”

“The hall—he was right there walking towards us!”

“My God, he's gorgy!”

The teachers stood, only catching snippets of what the girls were screaming.

“SILENCE!” Dumbledore cried, sending the girls into silence along with everyone else in the room, “what is the matter, young ladies. Who is back?”

“Harry Potter—,” Marietta managed to get out before the room erupted once more. Dumbledore help up a shaky hand for silence, not quite believing what he was hearing.

“Miss Edgecombe, explain yourself.”

“I—we—saw him, walking in the hall. He was there! And then he walked away and we couldn't find him. But he was really there!”

The other girls were all nodding in agreement to her story. Dumbledore looked at them sternly.

“That is not possible, my dear. It appears that someone has played a foul and uncalled for prank on you. Harry potter is—”

“Albus!” McGonagoll gasped, staring strait ahead. Dumbledore looked to where she was staring and froze, eyes wide. Snape's jaw dropped in a most un-Slytherin manner. Flitwick dropped his fork. Morgana raised an eyebrow. Inu Yasha snorted into his food. Every student head in the great hall turned to look at one Harry James Potter; standing casually in the open doorway of the great hall languidly petting a purring Mrs. Norris.

“...dead?” he finished helpfully, his voice echoing throughout the silent dining area.

Pandemonium erupted. Children were screaming cries of `ghost!' or `imposter', teachers making vain attempts at gaining control of the situation while staring disbelievingly at the boy they all believed to be dead for the last month, some students, the closer friends of Harry, tried running towards him, whether to harm or hug him, he didn't know. Nor did he want to find out. Dropping the purring pussy, he turned around and ran strait out the door and down a random corridor. Some students, including his old friends followed him, others stayed where they were or ran back to their common rooms or to the owlry to spread the news.

Morgana stayed seated where she was, letting the humans deal with their own problems. She looked over to her former lover to see him snickering into his plate like a teenager.

“You knew something about this didn't you?” it wasn't a question, more like a statement. Inu Yasha schooled his face to be one of utter shock.

“How could you even think of accusing me of keeping things from the most respected and psychotic wizards of our time?”

Morgana said nothing but continued to stare at him with those unblinking black irises.

“Alright, I might have known something,” he gave in finally, “but seriously, the whole cat thing, now that caught me off guard.”

0o0o0o0o0o

After leading the school on a giant manhunt (most who believed Harry to be an imposter deatheater), Harry finally ditched everyone and took refuge in the headmaster's office. He didn't want to see the man but didn't have much of a choice if he were to get back on schedule. He sat in a comfy chair and waited; mildly disappointed that Fawkes wasn't in the room to keep him company. The wait was a short one, thankfully, as twenty minutes later Albus Dumbledore strolled into his office, glancing at Harry, before taking a seat at his desk and steepling his fingers.

“I am most curious as to how my gargoyles are littered about the hall and there is a gaping hole in the wall exposing my stair case.”

Harry gave his a sheepish grin, “aren't you just glad I'm alive?”

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in response to this.

“Indeed. Lemon drop, Harry?”

“Are you shitting me?”

“Language, Harry. Now tell me, where have you been?”

Harry decided to humor the man, figuring that it would be good to say in his good books for now. So he told him a very edited account of what happened. He said he had to fight off a few demons using magic and then escaped through a rift between the barriers (which was complete bull shit), but Dumbledore seemed to accept it.

“You don't know how fortunate you are to have fallen in such a low populated area in Hell.”

Harry just shrugged, fighting down a smirk. Dumbledore stood and clapped his hands.

“You may come in now,” he called to his door. It slowly creaked open, and revealed every guilty face of the Hogwarts staff.”

“Albus, it is really him?” Professor Sprout asked from the front of the group.

“Yes it's really him,” Harry answered instead, annoyed that he would be talked about. The teachers tried to bombard him with questions, which Dumbledore quickly quelled.

“This is not the time, you have heard enough through your eavesdropping. Harry has a potions class to get to in twenty minutes if we get him back on schedule.”

“I'm not taking potions,” Harry said hurriedly.

“Mr. Potter, I assure you that your grade does not matter and that it is all worked out—,” McGonagoll started before Harry cut her off.

“It has nothing to do with grades,” he said, “but as I no longer wish to be an auror I just have no use for potions.”

That seemed to strike a cord with Snape, “Why you ignorant, ungrateful—,”

“Very well,” Dumbledore said loudly, cutting off the man from a very repeated triad, “if that's the choice he had made then we will respect it. You will receive your new schedule tomorrow morning at breakfast. Oh, and one more thing, I'd like you to meet to new teachers to the staff. Professor Verchik will be you new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher,”

Harry looked at her, standing in the back, pale and tragic and knew instantly that she was a vampire.

“...And Professor Nagasaki will be teaching muggle studies, which should not concern you.”

Oh, but it concerned him very much. He glanced over and noticed Inu Yasha wink at him from his place besides the vampire. That man had a lot of explaining to do.