Dazai blinked once, then twice.

I 'm not the villain here,

he wanted to protest. But with the black shadow of the Port Mafia always hanging over him, Dazai wasn 't entirely sure that was true.

Still, Dazai was convinced that, at the very least, Lockhart was no

champion of the people.

The man had yet to go even a full minute without finding some way to compliment himself. At least when Draco boasted his prowess, the snake didn 't immediately follow it up with a declaration of war.

Lockhart looked incredibly pleased with himself. Dazai wanted little more than to shatter that self-satisfied expression. But he knew he needed to maintain some level of restraint here with Lucius watching.

With

everyone

watching.

Damn Mori for not giving him a heads up.

No 'damn Mori for letting things get this far. Dazai was sure the doctor could have shaken off the Daily Prophet somehow. It was almost like he

wanted

the Demon Student story to spread its fingers through the cracks of magical society.

Everyone here was

terrified

of him. And they were

angry

about it.

Hmm

... what was the best solution here? Dazai usually had plenty of time to consider his schemes. And then when he executed them, it would be done methodically and, often, from the shadows. Now, Dazai would have to do so on the fly with a sizable audience. Mori would call it a good challenge. Dazai would call it annoying.

Deciding on his plan of action, Dazai gave the crowd a rigid smile. 'There is no monster here to defeat, Lockhart. Why don 't you defeat You-Know-Who and write a book on that instead? ' Dazai asked coyly. At the last second, he remembered to change Voldemort 's name to its censored version. Even with the switch, however, quite a few faces in the audience flinched back as though struck. 'That must be more interesting to your readers than you beating up a twelve-year-old child. '

Lockhart 's smile was beginning to look more like a grimace. Good. 'Nonsense! That vile man lives no longer. The only monster here is you. '

Dazai bristled minutely.

Voldemort no longer?

Then whose face had he glared down just a few months earlier? Keeping his cool demeanor, Dazai raised his hands in a placating gesture. 'Consider it, is all I mean. Anyway, I'm more likely to kill myself than you are to defeat me. Let's just call it a draw from the outset. '

For just a second, Dazai saw Lockhart 's eyes narrow like the man was trying to figure him out. However, it was replaced not a second after by another of his shining, fatuous smirks. 'You shouldn 't lie about such things, ' he said with a scolding tongue.

Taking a step forward, Lockhart approached Dazai.

He couldn 't help the way his body tensed up in anticipation. But he still made sure to keep his expression flat.

The author came to a stop just a step away then, without indication, dropped his hand down onto Dazai 's shoulder. He pulled Dazai, pressing the boy tightly into his side. The discomfort and disgust must have been palpable on Dazai 's face, because a moment later Lockhart lauded, 'That 's it! That 's the front-page photograph right there. Make sure to snap a couple 'I can use one for the book cover once its finished. '

There was a flash of light, and the sound of a camera shuttering from somewhere within in the crowd.

Lockhart 's hand was on his shoulder, pressing near his neck. And half the man 's body was poking into him. Dazai wanted to stay rational 'to grin and bear it. But the only thing he could think was

get off get off get off!

Followed by the burning feeling of tar in the back of his throat. Dazai nearly choked on it.

Remembered how Quirrell would do the same thing.

How Mori still did.

Subtly, he tried to pry himself out of Lockhart 's grasp, but found he couldn 't break free. Lockhart tugged him back to his side immediately.

'Make a scary face for the photo, ' Lockhart told him. 'My fans will eat that up. Like the one in the Daily Prophet articles, if you could. '

Another photo taken, and another white flash to accompany it.

'That image is cartoonish, ' Dazai bit out, largely ignoring Lockhart 's demand. Still, Lockhart didn 't let up. Dazai felt his skin sting wherever they touched. The man 's body caged him in. Dazai 's breath spiked, his discomfort rose, and rose, and rose, and '

'Oomph! '

Dazai jammed his elbow into Lockhart 's stomach.

He was harsh 'not sparing Lockhart any kindness. It connected with a

fhwump!

Dazai was rewarded a second later when Lockhart stumbled and took a gasping breath for air. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and grunted.

Someone clicked a photo.

Relieved to have the other man off of him, Dazai took a calculated step away. It still burned where they had touched, but the tight band around Dazai 's chest finally released.

Almost immediately, he staggered into Fred and George. The twins looked down at him with surprised eyes, looking like they hadn 't quite processed the latest string of events yet.

'He attacked me! ' Lockhart cried out. 'The Demon Student has attempted to kill me as well! Just like poor Quirinus Quirrell! '

A shriek rang out in the crowd and Dazai 's head snapped towards it. Lockhart did the same. Whereas Dazai 's look was frazzled, Lockhart was the picture of a wounded knight.

'Not to worry, people, ' he assured. Despite his confident words, however, Lockhart backed away from Dazai with a wary glance. 'I won 't be defeated so easily. But,

ahem

' ' he coughed, again moving closer to the crowd and further from Dazai, ' 'I believe it would be best to return to the book signing now. Before our Demon Student gets more,

er

, violent. '

Dazai watched, with mute curiosity, as Lockhart stumbled back through the crowd before unceremoniously throwing himself onto a chair.

Was he... being serious?

Lockhart waited in patient silence before, after nearly a minute, a young curly-haired boy offered out a book. Lockhart signed it with a flourish.

Slowly, the rest of the crowd began to gather around him, though not without giving Dazai a sharp glance or two first.

Dazai stared.

Had... had this so-called Champion of the People just run away after barely taking one hit?

Disbelief sat thick in Dazai 's stomach as he tried to reconcile the boisterous Lockhart from before to the fidgety one now.

Helpless, Dazai looked over his shoulders to see what the Weasley twins thought. They looked just as lost as him. The second their eyes met, however, Fred and George shook from their stupor. Then, mostly to himself, Dazai muttered, 'Did he really just give up? It doesn 't feel like I won at all... '

Fred hesitated for a second before seeming to come to some conclusion. He gently laid his hand on Dazai 's shoulder and gave a light shove. He whispered, 'Let 's get out of here before Lockhart ' '

'Lockfart! '

' 'Lockfart, thank you George, decides he wants to start up round two. '

Dazai glanced between them as he let them drag him away from the crowd. 'I need to buy my books, ' he reminded the twins before they could take him too far.

'Maybe come back another day? ' George tried.

Dazai was quick to disagree. With the number of photographers present today, his face would be even more widely known tomorrow.

Fred sighed. 'Let 's be quick. I don 't like the way those snotty fans were looking at you. '

After that, they worked to quickly and quietly collect all of Dazai 's books. It was surprisingly easy to avoid the harsh glares of the other patrons 'but not without reason. They were clearly avoiding him. When Dazai turned down an aisle, he abruptly found the lane emptied of people within seconds. It didn 't bother him, but the twins grew more distressed with each and every aisle.

Plucking

The Biology of Magic

from the shelf, he tried to console them. 'You two are overreacting. '

The twins huffed, evidently in disagreement over the topic. They read over Dazai 's booklist before pulling a face.

'What? '

'Lockhart 's books are the only thing left, ' George explained, a furrow in his brow.

'Want us to sneak up front and grab them? ' Fred offered.

At their hesitance, Dazai remembered that Lockhart 's books were only at the front of the shop by the man himself. Dazai considered accepting their offer. It would keep him out of the crowd and stop Lockhart from starting anything up again. But...

An idea flashed in Dazai 's head.

'I have a better plan, ' he said, grinning.

Fred and George blinked. Then, twin smirks grew across their lips as well. 'That 's an impish grin if we 've ever seen one. What are you thinking, Boss? '

'I 'm thinking, ' Dazai said, striding across the store floor towards the front, 'I want Lockhart to sign my books. '

The twins snorted. Though clearly amused with the idea, they sobered up quickly.

'Is that a smart idea? '

'Yeah, ' Fred sniffed. 'I 'm all for bullying Lockhart, but he has a whole mob backing him up. '

Lockhart definitely didn 't seem to have any qualms about threatening a child. But, from Dazai 's perspective, very few people did. Lockhart wasn 't special in that regard 'just look at Quirrell! And even though Dazai loathed butting through crowds, he knew there were other considerations to take into account.

Namely: the Malfoy family.

Mori had said to make a good impression. Running and hiding from that sparkly, blonde narcissist wasn 't a good impression by a long shot. It said: Port Mafia is a bunch of

good-for-nothing cowards.

He might as well consider the mission failed now.

Mori had also said that fear was a good motivator. And, certainly, everyone currently in Flourish and Blotts was absolutely

petrified

of Dazai. Even Lockhart, it seemed. And Dazai could work with that.

Dazai wanted '

needed

the last word.

The twins must have noticed something in his expression, because they didn 't protest further. Instead, they just hovered over his shoulders. It was a familiar feeling, to have Fred and George within reach again.

Dazai walked to the front, ignoring how the crowd backed away from him. As he walked, he snatched some of Lockhart 's books from the surrounding tables. The twins did the same, dropping them into Dazai 's open arms after.

People moved aside. Some flinched as he approached. Wide, fearful eyes followed him.

Then, Dazai came to an abrupt halt.

Lockhart was sitting behind a long, white table. There was an open book in front of him with half a signature across it, as though Dazai had chased a customer away mid-signing.

A dangerous smirk flew across Dazai 's lips.

Lockhart 's mouth fell open.

Someone snapped a photo.

Without ceremony, Dazai dropped his entire stack of books with a woody

smack!

A few people flinched at the sound 'including Lockhart. Dazai took no small amount of pleasure in seeing this.

'Could you sign these for me, please? ' He said sweetly.

Lockhart 's brows rose all the way to his hairline. He coughed to clear his throat before pasting a charming smile across his face. His teeth gleamed white. 'Come to taunt me, Demon? '

Dazai held his smile in place. Having instigated this conversation himself, he felt much more in control. No more was he caught off guard by the dozens of eyes boring holes into him. 'I 've come to get my books signed by the man who 's going to kill me, ' he said the words like they were the most ridiculous thing he 'd ever heard. And they kind of were. Dazai leaned forward, bracing his palms against the table. He spoke just low enough for only Lockhart to hear, 'Keep your enemies close, right? '

Fear,

Dazai 's eyes said.

You should fear me.

A hush fell across the crowd.

Lockhart met Dazai 's eyes with two wide ones of his own. His brows seemed to raise even higher and higher. Dazai didn 't relent, not stepping back even when he was practically nose-to-nose with the man.

'A-asking like this is awfully rude. Though I suppose we can 't expect better from a mindless killer. ' Lockhart said. One of his hands found the quill, forgotten, on the table. With his other hand, he opened to the first page of one of the books.

The quill tip poked into paper, then spelled out a large and loopy

'Lockhart '.

Dazai finally leaned away with a satisfied nod. 'Thanks. The other ones too, if you wouldn 't mind. '

Lockhart 's head snapped up to glare, but at the last minute he remembered his audience and stopped himself. Instead, a tight 'but otherwise charming 'smile filled his face. 'Of course. Anything for a fan. '

Dazai watched as Lockhart signed one book, then the next.

The entire bookstore was dead silent. A tense air seemed to surround them. The crowd was stiff and unmoving, as if expecting either Dazai or Lockhart to attack the other at any moment.

Dazai smiled a toothy thing, and Lockhart did as he was told.

As Lockhart finished signing the final book, neither had done any more than to simply smile. Boldly written across the cover page of

Break with a Banshee,

Lockhart was writing a swirling,

'To my latest victory in a long line of truly impressive victories. May your defeat be as devastating for you as it is triumphant for me 'Lockhart. '

The book cover snapped shut.

Dazai placed his hand on the book, then slid it to himself. He added it to the stack and hauled the entire thing into his arms. It was heavy, but Dazai didn 't let that show on his face. Instead, he gave Lockhart a fox-like smile.

'Thank you, ' he grinned.

Lockhart 's beatific smile looked a little strained, which only made Dazai 's grin widen cheekily.

Dazai stepped away, content with how the interaction had resolved. Purposefully, he walked to the front desk to pay for his books. The worker there shakily rang him up. Dazai was very aware that every eye in the shop was on him now, carefully watching his every move.

As he placed a calculated handful of sickles and galleons on the desk, Dazai caught Lucius ' eye over the crowd.

The blonde stared back at him, expression perfectly blank except for a thoughtful press of his lips. Dazai smirked, but otherwise didn 't gesture to the man. He didn 't want to call too much attention to their relationship for now. In the meantime '

'Y-your books, s-sir? ' The cashier said. She didn 't seem to know how to address him, Dazai thought with amusement.

He collected the books from her. Now, they were nicely tied together and bagged for easier carry. Dazai hauled them into his arms, then turned to leave.

Although he was a little forlorn at not being able to hang out with the twins any longer, Dazai knew it was for the best. Tensions were high in Flourish and Blotts right now, and Dazai was already Public Enemy #1. The Weasley 's didn 't need to be dragged into that anymore than they already would be.

Thinking this, Dazai walked straight out the exit. Draco and the twins would have to finish shopping on their lonesome, it seemed.

He supposed ice cream would have to wait.

'That 's right! Begone from here! ' Lockhart called from behind him.

A second of prolonged silence passed.

Then, the crowd started to jeer with him.

Dazai merely raised his hand in a casual goodbye. 'See you in class, Professor. '

A bell on the door jingled as it shut.

Quiet.

The wind brushed Dazai 's hair back gently. His bag swayed in the breeze.

The streets of Diagon Alley held none of the tension inside Flourish and Blotts.

Unknowing to what had just transpired, pedestrians casually chatted and shopped. Dazai eyed them, as if expecting someone to recognize him any second now. But after a few seconds, the peaceful air of the streets did nothing but hum with faint magic.

Dazai let out a breath.

Now would be a good time to scurry back to the Leaky Cauldron. Now 'before any of those photographers could rush to publish their stories. Once Dazai 's face was plastered across the news, Diagon Alley could become too hostile to traverse.

But first...

Dazai looked down at his unoccupied hand. He flipped it over, inspecting the exposed palm mutely. No Longer Human seemed to buzz beneath his skin and boil in his blood.

There was something else he needed to buy, first.

-

Tom had a problem.

For once, his problem wasn 't the rowdy drunkard at the bar, nor the snooty wizards currently making an unapologetic mess of rooms six through nine, nor the mysterious owl that kept leaving dead mice on his doorstep. No, all of that was too straightforward to really be a problem at this point.

The problem was that the twelve-year-old boy staying in room number four was a murderer.

Tom had had his fair share of unusual and dangerous customers in the past. Running the Leaky Cauldron for as many years as he had, it was inevitable. During the height of the Wizarding War, sketchy people passed through nearly every day. Tom was used to witnessing danger in passing. He played unobtrusive host when he could manage, and evictor when he had to. Tom knew what he was doing, and he always knew where to draw the line.

But something about Dazai Osamu was different.

Eyeing the newsstand near the wall, Tom sighed.

'What 're you sighing about? ' A particular customer at the bar slurred, leaning over their ale, heavy. 'If I w 're surrounded by alcohol all day, I 'd never be sad. '

Tom raised a brow. 'If you were surrounded by alcohol all day, you would never get anything done. '

'Well... ' They waved a hand, then tucked their long, dark hair behind an ear self-consciously. 'I wouldn 't get anything done, anyway. S 'not in my nature. '

'You can 't be drinking so early in the day, Florence, ' Tom interrupted, despite having been the one to serve them.

As if fearing the worst, they wrapped a hand around their drink and hugged it protectively to their chest. 'Spell of de-intoxicating, ' Florence grumbled.

'When you finally invent such a spell, ' Tom said sternly, 'you 'll be famous. In the meantime, you 'll just be going into work slurring all your words. '

'Ha!

As if the Daily Prophet notices the difference, ' they cackled. 'All the big boss cares about is those fancy journalists upstairs. I doubt the boss even remembers us lowly workers in the archive. It 's all Demon Student this, Demon Student that these days... '

Tom sniffed.

Without a word, he turned away to collect an empty plate from another group of customers. They gave him their thanks, then left for Diagon Alley. When Tom returned his attention to Florence, the patron was taking another long swig of ale.

'Slow down, ' Tom said, earning a glare from Florence. 'You 'll hurt yourself walking out of here. '

Florence grumbled into their ale. 'Get me another drink an ' I 'll think about it. '

Tom raised a brow as Florence immediately went back to nursing their drink. He reached for an empty plate and began to wash it instead of humoring them with a response. A few crumbs clattered into the sink below before water could wash them away. He mindlessly scrubbed the dish.

Tom 's mind slipped back to the problem at hand.

Dazai Osamu was out now, evidentially confident traversing Diagon Alley on his lonesome. For the first time since Dazai arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, he was out of his room. At first, Tom had thought he would be worried about such a thing.

The Demon Student roaming Diagon Alley freely? Horrifying!

But instead, all he felt was

confused.

Because the Daily Prophet had 'Demon Student ' smeared across what must have been a hundred different papers since last February. Hysteria buzzed around the inn for months following the first article. Even just a few feet to his right, today 's paper proclaimed much the same. Having a position so central to wizarding student life, Tom had thoroughly read every one of those papers.

And there was no doubt about it, reading them. Tom knew '

everyone

knew: Dazai Osamu was a monster.

But.

Then Dazai had stumbled into his shop, friendly smile on his lips and a too-heavy load in his hands. The boy had quietly requested a room. He had gawked over Tom 's wandless magic and had played keep-away with a feisty owl.

It could have all been a facade, Tom knew. The papers had certainly speculated as much about the boy 'that he was some sort of deceptive, two-faced wolf in sheep 's clothing.

But '

Tom couldn 't forget the way Dazai had frozen up reading the Daily Prophet article. Or how his fingers had tensed up over the paper, crinkling up the edges under white knuckles. Dazai had looked almost surprised to see the news there. Then, with shoulders pulled back and smile gone brittle, the kid seemed to be physically walling himself off.

As if

Tom

was the threat there, not himself.

Perhaps it wasn 't fair to say that Tom 's latest problem was the murderer living in his inn.

No, Tom would be lying if he said that.

The

problem

was that the twelve-year-old murderer staying in his inn was holding himself up in his room, and Tom was

concerned

.

Concerned. About a murderer. One who, for all accounts, was being slandered to hell and back in the papers. Tom should have no sympathy for someone like that. But here he was, cleaning a plate behind the bar and thinking just that.

Self-defense, the kid had said, even though the media was saying the exact opposite.

He was just a kid 'so sue Tom for being a little worried.

Tom 's gaze traveled back to Florence. They had emptied their ale and were now looking rather forlornly at a mostly empty coin-pouch. Tom frowned and fidgeted with the edge of the plate for a second before deciding to voice his thoughts aloud.

'Florence, ' he called.

They jerked up after a sluggish second.

'Hm? '

'You work at the Daily Prophet, ' he started, parsing out his words carefully. 'Do the journalists ever... '

Florence raised a brow and rested their head on a hand.

Tom took a deep breath.

'Do they ever just... make things up? To write about, I mean. '

Florence stared at him for a long moment.

The wall clock ticked.

Ticked.

Ticked.

Suddenly, Florence burst into cackling laughter.

Tom jumped.

'What kinda question is that, Tom? '

'A thoughtful one, ' he said with a huff.

Again, Florence laughed. They spun their hand in a loose, drunken gesture. 'I just work in the archives. You know that. No place for a drunkard like me upstairs. Can 't see straight enough to write even a sentence. '

Tom carefully ignored the remark, knowing Florence 's early drinking habits were at least half his own fault. Quickly moving on, he asked, 'Do they keep records of all the old stories down there? ' He paused. Then, remembering Dazai 's request the other day, he added a hesitant, 'Ones about the Demon Student? '

'Sure, probably. ' Florence reached for their ale, lifted it to drink, then pouted when nothing came out. 'All the published and unpublished stories go down there to collect dust. We all like to pile up the boxes and nap on them. '

At least they could admit to it, Tom thought wryly. He shook his head.

He opened his mouth to ask something more, when the sound of bricks shifting suddenly tore his attention away.

The wall to Diagon Alley creaked as the bricks moved open. On the other side, Diagon Alley came into view, looking busier than it usually was at this time of day.

Lockhart 's signing,

Tom recalled with a frown. He wasn 't fond of the man 's flowery language, but enough of his customers waxed poetic about the author for Tom to understand the buzz. But it wasn 't the crowd that snatched Tom 's attention.

Dazai Osamu hurried through the door.

A stack of books in his arms indicated he 'd just been at the Lockhart signing himself. Tom also noted that Dazai was wearing a sleek pair of black gloves. They must have been new as well, as Tom hadn 't noticed them earlier that morning.

Despite the boy 's seemingly ordinary purchases, there was nothing casual about his entrance. Tom thought he looked to be in a rush. Dazai beelined directly towards his room without even glancing in the bar 's direction. His shoes pounded against the floor.

'Kid! ' Tom called before he could stop himself.

Dazai slammed to a stop, eyes snapping at Tom instantly. For just a second, the boy 's eyes were wide and his lips parted, as if expecting something. Then, his expression abruptly shuttered closed. A calm look washed over him.

'Tom. I was just heading back to my room. '

'I can see that, ' Tom said, speaking slowly. He thought about the hunted look in Dazai 's eyes, then asked, 'Can I... offer you some lunch? '

Tom watched his expression closely, but all Dazai did was blink a few times as he registered the question. 'No thank you, ' he said, curt. Then, he blinked, a small twinkle in his eyes that had Tom briefly staggering.

"Oh!

Was I too noisy? Are you actually going to kill me?"

"What?! No!"

Dazai huffed, looking at once disappointed. Tom was baffled.

Apparently dissatisfied, Dazai turned on his heel to start walking again. Again, before he could, Tom said, 'It 's just, you haven 't come out for anything to eat since you got here. And, w-well... it 's on the house? Since you 're staying here alone, and all. '

And again, Dazai stopped dead in his tracks. He stared straight at Tom, a confused press now between his brows. Tom silently cursed himself. From Dazai 's perspective, it must seem like Tom was doing a complete 180 '. But in reality, the innkeeper had been thinking about the Demon Student 's predicament for days now. This morning 's encounter had only hastened his uncertainty. Still, there must have been a more tactful way to offer Dazai a tentative olive branch.

'Hey, if the kid gets free meal, can I get free ale? '

Both Tom and Dazai 's attention snapped to Florence.

They smiled crookedly at the barkeep.

Dazai seemed to relax a little at Florence 's interjection, Tom noted with relief. Something about the drunk 's lack-of-class must have put him at ease.

The boy raised a brow. 'Isn 't it a bit early to be drinking? '

Florence huffed. 'What, are you and Tom sharing notes? I don 't want an intervention. '

'If you drink too much, then you might trip and crack your skull open on the way to work, ' Dazai told them.

Florence choked on their spit.

Equally flabbergasted, Tom coughed into his fist.

'Charming, kid. ' Florence recovered first. 'Real charming. I 'll need another drink to forget such cruel words. '

Tom shot them a glare before turning back to Dazai, who merely shrugged. 'It 's on the house, ' Tom reiterated. When Dazai didn 't react except to watch him, he plowed onward, 'An apology for my being a little,

er

... harsh the other day. I realize now that I may have jumped to a few conclusions. '

Please don 't take offense, Tom thought frantically, I 'm terrified of you but also worried about you and 'why can 't you actually look as scary as the Daily Prophet makes you out to be?!

Dazai 's outward expression didn 't change, but Tom got the impression that the boy was scrutinizing him. The bartender couldn 't help but feel like the assessment was warranted. For a second, Tom thought Dazai would agree.

But after a pause, the boy shook his head.

'No thank you. '

Tom deflated. It seemed his young charge wouldn 't be budging today. The air left his lungs in one big, heaving sigh.

Relief, or defeat. Tom wasn 't sure himself.

'But, ' Dazai said before turning on his heel to retreat to his room, 'consider yourself forgiven. I suppose it can 't be helped, if the Daily Prophet... '

Dazai trailed off. With a surreptitious glance to the other patrons, Tom understood why. He didn 't want it getting out any more than Dazai did that the Demon Student was currently rooming here.

Dazai was fast, already half-way to his room when Tom called, 'I 'll bring you some supper tonight ' ' and the door slammed shut. ' 'if you want. ' He sighed. 'Or not. '

The bar room was quiet for a moment.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering just what sort of mess he was getting into. Just a week earlier, he would have told you the Demon Student was some half-mad serial-killer in the making. But now having actually spoken to the boy? Tom couldn 't say

anything

with confidence. Hell, he couldn 't even say the main source of magical news, The Daily Prophet, was reliable now.

All because of one twelve-year-old's pouting, bandaged face.

...Maybe he was getting soft in his old age.

'The Daily Prophet,

hmm? '

Tom opened his eyes to see Florence, sloppy grin crossing their face.

They lifted their drink, tilting it towards where Dazai had swiftly disappeared to. 'Your sudden interest in my job wouldn 't have anything to do with that kid, would it? '

Tom stole the empty drink right out from their fingers. Florence squeaked and made frantic, grabbing motions to get it back. The barkeep didn 't relent. 'You 're surprisingly astute for someone so drunk. '

'It 's a talent 'will you refill that, now? ' Florence keened.

Tom glanced to the glass, then back to Florence. An idea tickled the back of his mind. 'You don 't have the coin. '

'Er

'I can pay you back? '

'Perhaps, ' Tom started, slowly parsing out his idea as he spoke, 'we can work out an alternative method of payment. '

Florence blinked once, then twice. They looked Tom up and down with slow eyes.

'Get me the archive copies of the Demon Student stories. ' With pink cheeks, Tom hastily added, 'in exchange for a free drink. '

The proposition hung in the air for a long moment.

Then, 'just one drink? '

'Two, if you can get it by tomorrow. '

'Ah, '

Florence sniffed. 'Two 's too good to pass up. Doubt the boss 'll even notice one or two stacks missing, anyway. '

Tom let out a breath, then nodded. 'Then it 's a deal. ' More quietly, he added, 'Thanks, Flor. '

Florence waved him off. They looked to the glass, which Tom had started to unconsciously wipe clean, before seeming to sober up some. 'The Demon Student,

huh? '

Florence muttered, eyes shooting to the inn hallway thoughtfully. Tom followed their gaze and held his breath. 'Wonder what 's got you suddenly interested in a story like that. '

'Just a thought, ' Tom told them. 'Aren 't you going to be late for work? '

Florence grumbled. 'I 'm already late for work, ' they puffed, shooting a glance to the wall clock. 'But I guess I can get there now, since there 's ale on the line. '

Florence stood, hands bracing on the bar top for stability. Tom took pity on them.

'Here, ' he retrieved a chocolate bar from under the bar and slid it across the table. 'Shouldn 't let your drink sit on an empty stomach. Now get out. '

'Aye, aye, ' Florence huffed. They snatched the candy off the table before clumsily sulking to the brick wall. A sloppy wave of their wand opened the door. Florence slipped into Diagon Alley with all the poise of a drunken goose.

Tom watched as the brick door closed back shut. Once it was sealed, he turned back to his work behind the bar. Although his eyes naturally came to spy down at Room Four, he didn 't let them rest there long. There was a sour feeling in Tom 's gut. Hopefully Florence 's bounty, when they returned, would clear things up. But until then, cleaning dishes and tables would have to keep Tom occupied.

Whatever was really going with the Demon Student, Tom hoped the answers would be satisfying. Somehow, he didn 't think that would be the case.

-

The curtains were pulled tightly closed and the room was pitch black. A pile of half-read textbooks sat scattered at the edge of the bed, cast aside when Dazai 's eyes had started to ache. Only Lockhart 's books remained entirely untouched. Dazai had skimmed the first few chapters of

Break with a Banshee

only to stop there. It had become immediately clear that it wasn 't really a textbook, so much as a list of reasons why Lockhart thought he was amazing.

Speaking of Lockart, Dazai now had an official declaration of war hanging over his head. He wondered if he could just ignore it. Lockhart didn 't exactly seem like the capable type. Moreover, the man had practically shook in his boots every time Dazai talked back to him. Still, it was just one more thing to deal with on top of all of Mori 's nonsense.

This year was already shaping up to be a catastrophe. In spite of this, Dazai couldn 't find himself entirely dreading it. His gang would be waiting for him there. Meeting the twins at Flourish and Blotts had only reignited the warm flame in Dazai 's chest. It was entirely unlike the cold, sterile world of Mori 's office.

Dazai flipped over in bed. He buried his head beneath the quilt.

You know attachments like that,

Mori 's words echoed in his head unbidden,

have no place within the Port Mafia.

Mori hadn 't said the next bit, but Dazai 's brain filled in the blanks automatically:

If you don 't belong in the Port Mafia, you 'd be better off dead '

'Hoot! '

Dazai jerked out of his thoughts.

'Hoot! '

Featherbrain suddenly shook the room with another bellowing

hoot!

There was a ruffle of wings in the air followed abruptly by sharp talons digging into Dazai 's shoulder.

'Hey! ' Dazai squawked, pushing himself upright and toppling Featherbrain off of him. 'What 's that for? '

Featherbrain didn 't look at all told off, and she hooted again.

Dazai scowled. 'I was only thinking, ' he grumbled, suddenly feeling trapped under those intelligent owl eyes. 'Don 't you have better things to do than attacking me? '

Unsurprisingly, Featherbrain 's responding hoots were entirely nonsensical.

Dazai ignored her, now, in favor of sitting up. He ran a hand over his face in some vain attempt to wipe away the dark thoughts there.

Evidentially pleased, Featherbrain hopped off the bed. Dazai didn 't turn to watch her go, too busy rubbing his eyes.

Blindly, Dazai reached around the bed. It was a few seconds before his hand found purchase on what he was searching for. He pulled the phone to his ear, dialing the only number saved without having to look. Dazai carefully kept his eyes closed against the item 's harsh mechanical light.

The phone line clicked.

'You didn 't call yesterday, ' was Mori 's greeting.

Dazai frowned. He squinted at the phone. The white light blinded him for a second before clearing up: it was almost noon the next day. He hummed. 'I 've been busy. '

He had been busy lying in bed and staring up at the dark ceiling, losing track of time.

But Mori didn 't need the specifics.

'How did you meeting with Lucius go? ' Mori asked, straight to the point.

'Fine. ' He hesitated. 'He brought his family. '

Mori hummed, seeming to consider the information. 'And? What did you learn? '

Dazai paused, remembering all the Malfoy family interactions he 'd seen yesterday. Between their meeting in front of the bank to their departure in Flourish and Blotts, Dazai thought he had a fairly good picture of the family 's inner politics. 'Lucius is definitely the one you want to impress. If he gives an order, the others will follow. ' He recalled how quick Lucius had been able to shut down with wife and child when he wanted to. 'The wife, Narcissa, seems to just be going along with Lucius ' plans, but she has a soft spot for Draco ' ' he corrected himself, ' 'her son. '

Static buzzed over the line as Mori considered the information. 'What of young Draco? '

Dazai bristled, but carefully kept his voice level. 'They don 't tell him anything. I 'd say they don 't trust him, but I think it 's more likely Narcissa just doesn 't want him involved with the Port Mafia any more than necessary. '

'That will make him easier to manipulate, ' Mori said, sounding impartial.

'He 's already loyal to me. I won 't need to push too hard for him to trust me more than his own family. '

Mori chuckled. 'It seems those cute little friendships of yours aren 't entirely useless after all. Good work, Dazai. '

Dazai twitched at the praise. He was quick to push past it. 'You said Lucius might try to test me, ' he prompted.

'That 's right. As far as I 'm aware, the pieces of your test are already in motion. Take care of it quickly. The sooner Lucius bows to the Port Mafia, the sooner we can move on to more important things. ' Mori 's voice had gone entirely clinical. From the other end of the line, Dazai could hear papers rustling around.

'Consider it done. '

'Good boy, ' Mori purred into the microphone. Dazai could practically feel the man 's words through the line 'a too-gentle caress of nail over his wrists. Gooseflesh. 'Now, I have some important work to take care of. Try not to kill yourself in the meantime. '

Dazai opened his mouth to respond.

Click.

The line had already gone dead.

Dazai 's tongue was dry and cold in his mouth. He pressed his lips firmly together before discarding the phone with a flick of his wrist. It landed with a

smack

against the wood floor.

Featherbrain dropped one of her dead mice by Dazai's feet.

He eyed her for a long, long moment.

There weren 't mice in the Port Mafia headquarters. The entire building, from its penthouse suite to its midnight black basements were sterile and full of a clean, well-intentioned malice. Even the dog kennels, which Dazai had always found to be near squalor, were actually quite well-kept. Something about the Port Mafia being so pristine had always made Dazai pause. It caught in his breath and held his lungs still until he wasn 't sure if he 'd be breathing much longer.

The Port Mafia shouldn 't be clean, he 'd always thought. That building and everyone in it was drenched in blood. The torture rooms were splattered with red day-in and day-out, but they were somehow the cleanest rooms in the whole of Yokohama. The only places in the whole world where people told nothing but the honest truth.

Then those people would always die. And Dazai knew nothing was more honest than death.

There were no rodents in the Port Mafia, but there were mice in London. There was a sly rat named Angel that wandered around Hogwarts half of every year. There were a dozen dead mice at the foot of Dazai 's borrowed bed.

The contradiction burned like nothing else in the world.

Lucius was a rodent, Dazai knew. Someone who would burrow a million little homes and keep every single one for himself. 'But a mouse could always be drawn out of their hole with cheese. All Dazai needed to do was to supply the metal spring trap 'and to find out what was sweet enough to Lucius to entice him out. The man was conniving and immoral, but he wasn 't hospital-clean like Mori was.

Knock 'knock 'knock '!

Dazai barely shifted away from his thoughts. He angled his right ear towards the noise, but otherwise didn 't react. By his feet, Featherbrain let out an eager-sounding tweet. Again, Dazai barely reacted to it.

A rodent was entirely unclean to the core. Unclean and inhuman, just like '

Don 't kill yourself,

Mori had said.

Knock 'knock '!!

The knocking picked back up.

'Er,

D-Dazai? ' A voice called through the wood, subdued. It sounded as though the speaker was trying to keep their voice low. 'It 's Tom. Can I come in? '

Dazai blinked out of his head, slowly shifting to face the door.

'Only for a minute. I just don 't think you 'd want to talk out in the hall, ' Tom reassured quickly. There was a sound as if Tom were shifting something heavy in his hands. Curiosity prickled at Dazai 's chest. 'Are you awake? '

For another second, Dazai merely stared blankly ahead.

Then, he shook himself. Featherbrain must have noticed his change in demeanor, because the owl took to the air abruptly. She swooped across the room and onto the window sill to watch with sparkling eyes. Dazai sighed at her antics before pushing himself to his feet.

'I 'm awake. '

'Ah,

good! ' Tom said, sounding relieved. 'Can I come in? '

Dazai ran a hand across his face.

As he walked to the door, he quickly snatched his new pair of gloves from the bedside table and pulled them on. They were a pair of black, dragon-skin gloves he had bought at Madam Malkin 's Robes for All Occasions yesterday. They had been a last-minute decision, but a smart one, nonetheless. Sleek and strong, they wrapped No Longer Human up and prevented the ability from lashing out unexpectedly on passerbys.

Dazai gripped a gloved hand around the door knob and carefully pried it open by just an inch. He peeked a single, chocolate eye out of the crack.

Tom was just on the other side of the door, looking back-and-forth as if expecting someone to interrupt them. Dazai tried to make out a reason for the man to bother him now, but couldn 't find one.

'Tom, ' he said, snapping the bartender 's attention to him. 'To what do I owe the pleasure? If you've come to kill me, now is a good time, actually. I just had the most awful conversation I'd like to forget. '

There was a pause. An extended pause.

'Um.

Can you let me in? ' Tom asked eventually. 'I have something for you. '

Dazai frowned. He strained to see what Tom was holding, but their positions didn 't allow for it. He thought the problem over for a second. What was the worst that could happen, letting Tom in? If the man really was a threat, Dazai would just have to stab him the same way he had Quirrell. It would be an unfortunate issue to deal with later, but Dazai would manage.

Or. Well. He could just let Tom kill him.

Thinking this, he nodded. He stepped back and, with little flourish, swung the door open wider.

'Ah,

thanks, kid, ' Tom said, stepping through the door. Dazai shut it behind him.

'The room is a bit of a mess, ' Dazai said, words apologetic but tone anything but, 'I 'll make sure Featherbrain cleans it up before we leave. '

Dazai didn 't catch Tom 's expression as he walked across the room, but the bartender did pause to consider those words. 'Featherbrain? ' He dropped something heavy down on the corner of Dazai 's bed, then looked up.

'Oh.

Your owl? '

Dazai hummed. From her perch, Featherbrain hooted a kind greeting.

Dazai waited a second by the door, pausing and assessing. However, it became clear abruptly that Tom wasn 't about to whirl around and attack him. Dazai wasn't sure whether to feel relief or annoyance at that fact. But, momentarily assured of it, Dazai padded across the room to peer around Tom 's shoulder.

The thing Tom had dropped on his bed was a stack of twine-wound newspapers. Garnished atop it was a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. It was a heaping serving. At least enough for five people.

Dazai 's curiosity won out over trepidation. He walked past Tom to squint down at the articles.

It was a challenge with the lack of light, something that Tom also seemed to notice. The bartender made a gruff sound before carefully walking himself through the darkness towards the window.

The first paper on the stack wasn 't bound like the others. Instead, it seemed to have been added to the top almost as an afterthought. After a second, Dazai realized why: it was freshly printed and dated that morning. Bold, capital letters were printed across the top, spelling out both Dazai 's name and Lockhart 's. Below that was a familiar scene from Flourish and Blotts. Dazai 's own image grinned devilishly back up at him.

'The story broke this morning, ' Tom said, voice unsure. 'Your face is all over Diagon Alley by now. '

Dazai sighed. It wasn 't like he hadn 't known this was coming. Still, it was an unfortunate turn of events regardless. Unwilling to dwell on it long, however, Dazai moved to the other stack.

THE DEMON STUDENT IS COMING FOR YOUR CHILD NEXT!

the top paper read.

The cover photo was that of a chubby-cheeked, crying child. Dazai frowned down at the blatantly false reporting. He noted with some aplomb, however, that the photo had not stopped silently sobbing yet. The animation spell was still fully intact.

Gloved hands couldn 't nullify spells. Good to know.

'It 's real nice out today, kid. You should open the windows. Let me ' ' Tom cut off abruptly before even reaching the window. 'Is that a pile of dead mice? '

Dazai jerked out of his readings. His head snapped up to where Tom had frozen in place. 'Gifts from Featherbrain, ' he informed plainly before turning back to the papers. Ineffectually, Dazai tried to rip off the twine bindings. It was too tightly bound for him to make progress. His wand was probably sharp enough to cut through...

Suddenly, Tom bellowed out a laugh. Dazai once again jumped out of his contemplation to stare wide-eyed the barkeep 's way.

Tom apologized for startling him with a wave of his hand. 'I had wondered whose owl was leaving those! It 's you, isn 't it, lovely lady? '

Featherbrain cooed when Tom gently scratched her beak. She preened under the attention, then obligingly hopped away so Tom could peel open the curtains.

Immediately, light poured into the room. The whole room bled white.

Dazai closed his eyes to brace against the blinding change.

'Sorry! '

'She left you mice, too? ' Dazai asked instead of amusing the man 's apology. He pried his eyes back open but scowled at the bleached spots that still lingered in his vision.

Tom grunted and lifted the window open. A gust of fresh-smelling air gently ruffled Featherbrain 's wings.

'Sure did. ' He glanced back to Dazai.

Dazai felt his face go blank on impulse. Still, Tom must have seen something, because he calmly tacked on, 'no harm done. Some owls are like that 'giving gifts to say

thank you

or

I care about you

. '

'She 's just being annoying. You'd know if you met her for more than a minute.

Obnoxious

is her defining character trait ' Dazai countered without pause. He looked around for his wand, wondering where he 'd ended up tossing it to. Finally, he spotted it rolled over next to one of Lockhart 's worthless books.

Tom kept his distance, hands tucked behind his back non-threateningly. When Dazai picked up his wand, however, the barkeep instantly went tense. His hands twitched behind him. Dazai glanced at him 'from his sweating brow to his shoulders held stiff. It seemed he still held some trepidation, after all.

Dazai didn 't comment, merely raised a brow and made a show of slicing the twine with the sharp point of his wand. The bindings fell apart over his bed. Dazai discarded his wand by it, and Tom let out a sigh of relief immediately.

HOGWART 'S STUDENTS TELL ALL! FIRST-HAND ACCOUNTS OF THE DEMON STUDENT,

the next article read.

Dazai quickly skimmed through the page. He didn 't immediately recognize the names of the students Skeeter had interviewed, though most of them seemed to be other Slytherins. Dazai caught the name 'Pansy Parkinson ' near the end of the article and nearly laughed.

'Dazai is really bad news. I 've been telling everyone that for ages, '

Pansy had told Skeeter, who in turn had carefully penned it into this Daily Prophet article,

'Did you know he 's awful at magic? I hope the professors don 't welcome him back for a second year. '

HOW TO TELL IF YOUR CLASSMATE IS POSSESSED BY A DEMON.

read the next article. The one after,

IS DAZAI OSAMU POSSESSED BY A DEMON?

Dazai's nose scrunched up as he flipped from one article to the next.

'What is all this? ' Dazai thought aloud.

Tom answered. 'The other day, you mentioned wanting to read all the articles about yourself. I had a... friend get them. '

Dazai set another article aside, then scowled at one titled,

THE COLD-BLOODED KILLER NEXT DOOR!

This was...

This was all hysterical nonsense!

Not even one of these articles was slightly based in fact. The words 'self-defense ' never once appeared in the entire stack of newspapers even in theory. Let alone 'Voldemort ' or 'Death-Eaters. ' The closest Dazai found was one article speculating he was a fan of 'You-Know-Who. ' The articles spanned across multiple months, and every single one was topped with the name Rita Skeeter. Finally, he came to the first paper in the pile:

THE SECRET BEHIND DAZAI OSAMU 'S MUREROUS RAMPAGE!

He blinked down at the date.

'This is dated from May. '

Tom cleared his throat, drawing Dazai 's gaze. 'That 's all I was able to get, ' he explained, 'for now. Florence will probably grab the earlier ones if I ask nicely. '

Florence

... Dazai couldn 't recall having ever heard that name. 'Who? Your friend? '

'Right, I never formally introduced the two o ' you. ' Tom didn 't sound even slightly apologetic. If anything, Dazai thought he sounded sheepish at how the conversation was turning. 'Florence is the drunk you met yesterday. Long, dark hair? Slurring all their words? '

Dazai nodded.

'They work for the Daily Prophet. I asked 'em to grab the old Demon Student articles for me. ' Tom scratched the nape of his neck. At Dazai 's unblinking look, he sighed. His hand dropped back to his side. 'I skimmed through them all. Looking at them in retrospect, the whole thing seems a little silly. But when everyone is saying it, it's real easy to get swept up in the... the

hysteria,

I suppose." He scoffed and shook his head a little.

"Demon possession... '

Dazai couldn 't agree more. 'How does Rita Skeeter get her information? ' he asked, rather than dwell on a rising frustration.

Tom frowned. 'Not sure. Any other time, I 'd have told you 'interviews and investigations. ' But now... '

'She 's just making things up, ' Dazai finished for him. Under his breath, Dazai asked himself the question that had been bugging him ever since he first arrived in the Leaky Cauldron: 'Why? '

Because that was the real issue here, wasn 't it?

What did the Daily Prophet stand to gain from demonizing him? From denying that the Death Eaters were on the move again?

Dazai 's eyes narrowed as he considered the conundrum. Someone with a lot of power had made the conscious decision to turn the wizarding world against Dazai. And, despite himself, Dazai didn 't think that obnoxious Rita Skeeter was the big-bad here. When they had met, she had

asked

about the Death Eaters and Voldemort specifically. She had been prepared to actually write about it.

Who was really in control of the Daily Prophet? Dazai asked himself, and what did they stand to gain from all the hysteria they were building?

The expression on his face must have been frightening, because Tom 's voice when he next spoke was somewhat shaking.

'I-is it okay? That I brought these? '

Dazai let out a deep breath and forced his expression to something more neutral. He looked to Tom. 'Thank you, for this. '

Tom seemed to melt with relief at that. Then, growing more sure of himself by the second, he smiled. 'I brought you some food as well. Some hearty breakfast food, even if it 's a bit later in the day. '

Dazai didn 't spare the eggs a glance.

Instead, he turned back to the scattered articles around his bed. Dazai began to methodically organize and re-stack them. He thought to re-bind them, but the twine was unfixable now. 'Even if it's not true, it 's nice to know what people are saying about me, ' Dazai told the man, tone purposefully subdued. He met Tom 's eyes. 'Thanks for breakfast. '

Tom sobered up upon hearing this. 'I can 't believe the Daily Prophet would just lie about this. They're the most trusted news source in all of magical society! '

Trusted things could be corrupted, Dazai knew. And anything with that much power would, invariably, have an agenda. Dazai just wanted to know how he fit into it.

On the window sill, Featherbrain swallowed a mouse whole.