Chapter 13
The Man who Summons The Dead

Teaching wasn't as hard as Suguro expected it to be. On the other hand, his only experience with tutoring involved Rin Okumura and it was quite... intense. Not only because of the circumstances - it was literally the situation of the do or die sort - but because Rin was Rin.

Now Suguro expected the whole misadventure to repeat once more, just with more chaos involved, since there was more than one person to teach this time. It was a pleasant surprise to discover that it wasn't the case and the kids were actually trying to learn something. Sometimes.

"Adam, can you please pay attention?"

Ryuji had to admit, the kid got some balls on him, considering the fact that he was able to completely ignore the murderous glare directed right at him.

"I'm recording," Adam said, like it was explaining why he was currently occupied with scribbling something definitely not related to the topic Suguro was rambling on for the past fifteen minutes.

"And if you discover that you don't understand something during listening to recording?" Ryuji groaned. "It's not like you can ask questions then."

"But I can write them down and do it at the next meeting, right?" Adam answered, speaking as quietly as ever. "Besides, it's not like you're not sending us a whole bunch of reading materials related to the topic."

Ryuji was. He kind of wanted to strangle the brat, too. That kid really should start treating the whole thing more serious if he didn't want to die because of some stupid mistake. Suguro still had no idea, why exactly Adam decided to join or how he gained the ability to see spirits in the first place. Many people didn't like to share their stories, since they usually were connected to a tragedy or a traumatic experience. One had to be quite unsound of mind to decide that fighting monsters was a right career choice.

"Can't you, like, listen now and then do your thing later?" Natalie proposed.

The girl wasn't much better. She was pretty much lying on her desk, with her chin prepped up on crossed hands, with long, red curls loose, covering her backs like a blanket.

"But I'm listening while I'm in the metro," Adam explained. "I can't write while the thing is moving."

"...you're not writing now, you're doodling." Suguro felt the need to point this little detail out.

"It helps me visualize what I want to write about."

Natalie made a small puffing sound, like she was trying to get hair off her face without actually raising a hand to do so. It wasn't working, so she just eyed Adam from under the curtain of messy locks. "Weirdo."

Ryuji had to agree with the girl, this guy was on the odd side and the way he looked wasn't helping any. It was almost like he was trying to create a hardcore image of a member of a crazy metal band but halfway through got bored with the project and was too lazy to put away what he already was wearing.

Ryuji checked the time and sighed. "Alright, let's say we're done for today. Others are going to start showing up in few minutes, so starting a new topic now doesn't make sense anyway."

"So, do I have the permission to write now?" Adam muttered, rolling his pen between fingers.

"Do you have any questions that actually have anything to do with the topic?"

"Not really," the boy shamelessly admitted.

Well, at least he and Natalie were showing up. The third kid sure wasn't, not for the most of time, at least. It was annoying from Ryuji's perspective, but there wasn't much he could do. Besides failing the truant brat, obviously.

xxx

Suguro closed his eyes and sighed. He was finally done with the school stuff for today, but there was still a lot of talking ahead.

No reason to not start now, so Ryuji pulled out his phone and scrolled through the contact list, looking for the number he managed to put his hands on just the other evening. Night, to be exact. Since the middle of the night wasn't the best of time to call someone to ask for a favor - especially one as big as Ryuji needed - so he decided to wait.

Now however was a pretty good time to socialize.

Suguro found himself a comfortable spot to sit, in an uninteresting corner hidden behind the stairs, where not many people wandered off into. He wasn't expecting the talk to take too much of time. Neuhaus wasn't a social person and preferred to get straight to the point even while he was a teacher.

It took three signals before the phone was picked up. Neuhaus happened to be one of those people who just left the beeping instead of changing the signal into something that didn't cause one's ears to ring unpleasantly. Suguro couldn't' tell if it was because Neuhaus was old fashioned or just plain mean. Probably a little bit of both.

"Who's there?" Neuhaus asked. Or said something of sorts. He used German and Suguro never was too good with that language.

"Suguro Ryuji, I am-" he started, but was cut out.

"I know who you are," Neuhaus said. "Though I must admit, I am quite surprised for you to contact me. Our ways didn't part on the best of terms."

"You had an issue going with Okumura, not me," Suguro said. True, the guy went straight for trying to kill Okumura with his undead summons during the exwire exams and because of that the rest of the group was in a tad deeper waters than usually, but it actually was a good thing. Thanks to that they learned early how nasty a situation could get and how they acted while something scary was actively trying to murder the crap out of them.

"I doubt this is a social call," Neuhaus sighed. "So, what is it?"

"As you can guess, I need a favor. A big one."

"How big?"

"How well do you speak English?"

"Ah!" there was recognition in his voice. "I've heard that they moved you all the way to England. So what is it? That thing about the undead keeping crawling out of that one cemetery?"

Suguro raised eyebrows. "You heard about that one?"

"This is quite a curiosity, I must admit."

"Well, it's not that," Ryuji said. While it would be cool to milk out everything he could out of the man, it wasn't the time. "I stumbled into a girl with the ability to summon a ghoul."

"And you decided to reach all the way to me instead of looking for a tamer somewhere nearer?"

"The problem is, there's a chance for spontaneous summoning. The girl is also quite temperamental which isn't helping."

"Spontaneous?" there was clearly disbelief in his voice. "How exactly that can happen? There was that girl in your group, but as far as I understand her situation she was actually connected with her spirits by blood..."

"The situation is quite more complicated here," Suguro sighed. "The family was perfectly fine with that ghoul hanging out in their attic for years."

"...what." It was a shame Ryuji couldn't see his face because the expression definitely was hilarious.

"That's only the tip of the iceberg, believe me," Ryuji sighed. "But that's not something I want to talk over the phone."

"You are not joking, are you?"

"Do you really think I would waste so much time and resources just for a prank call?"

"True," Neuhaus agreed. "Then what do you want from me?"

"Honestly? I have only a vague idea. Depends on what do you make out of that ghoul. A special snowflake, that one. It talks."

"You do remember that a summoned beast and it's tamer-"

"The blasted thing is talking to everyone. Tip of the iceberg, remember."

"...you really want me in England, don't you?"

Well, there was a reason for Suguro to drop all the interesting bits around the place, in hope that the bait would catch.

Neuhaus sighed. "It would still take time to wrap everything up here. But people already wanted to drag me to your place because of that cemetery."

"I'm pretty lucky then?"

"I can't promise much," Neuhaus warned him. "But I'll try. The files are accessible, or should I wait-"

"Right now the whole thing is of the grid," Suguro cut out. "And right now there's a reason for it to stay that way."

"The reason you can't talk over the phone."

"Pretty much," It would suck to get mindwiped - or just plain attacked, since the mind-related magic seemed to not work on him too well - by some paranoid wizard that wanted to keep the existence of his world secret. He honestly had no idea how paranoid the magical people were, but while it was doubtful that they would go after everyone talking about the magic related stuff, Ryuji didn't want to accidentally out their existence either. It would create a whole new universe of a mess. There was enough troubles already on his map, so Ryuji decided that being paranoid was the healthiest way to go.

There was a long moment of silence, during which Suguro was lying to himself about not being nervous. He didn't know anybody else who dealt with the undead on daily basis so looking for another person would take lots and lots of time. And then there was the whole trust issue...

"I'll give you a call when I'll stand on the same continent," Neuhaus finally decided. "Then we could talk about time of my visit some more."

"Understood," Suguro nodded. "And thanks."

Neuhaus just cut the connection instead of answering, but that was perfectly fine by Ryuji. He got what he wanted, more or less.

As soon as he pocketed the phone his adult on-off student walked from around the corner, her heels loudly announcing her presence with every step she took.

"Are you even allowed to do that?" she went straight to the point.

"My mother taught me it is a bad thing to listen on other's people conversation."

She also taught him that kicking women in the butt was a bad thing, even if they were sticking their nose in the stuff way beyond their understanding, just because they were nosy. A shame. Nosy people tended to mess with business of others right until something they weren't ready for chewed their head off.

"And I was told it wasn't the best idea to go around your superiors."

"You were hanging out behind that corner for awhile then," Ryuji snickered. "Enjoyed playing the spy?"

"I wasn't playing anything," she frowned at him. "I just heard something that made me question thing or two. Since you're holding teaching position..."

"Afraid that I'm going to drag the kids down with me? Or it is more about you deciding to associate with me a few days before?" Ryuji raised an eyebrow.

"Don't turn this around..."

"Let's just said it is related to business of the Honorary Knight."

As he expected, the woman paled a little.

"You are working for him?"

"Well, since I finished the school where he's the headmaster," Suguro shrugged. "No way away from that person, once you got his attention, I guess."

The Mephisto Card worked well with most of people who never meet the demon and with many among the people who had the pleasure. Besides, Mephisto definitely already was interested in the wizarding world - no better way to catch his attention than nicking someone he was fond of. He was probably going to take the credit for either making the alliance with the beautiful and new world of wizardry or for discovering a new enemy. Depends how Suguro was going to deal with the situation.

"Look," Ryuji sighed. "It is more than possible that you are going to learn about the whole thing in the next few months."

"So why are you even trying to get around it?" she shook his head.

"Politics," he said simply, because this single word was able to explain everything. More or less. Well, he could tell her that there were people in the Order all too eager to jump to the conclusion and then to blast the potential enemy with all they had – because there were idiots like that everywhere – but for the moment Ryuji felt pretty lazy. The woman was also just plain annoying with sticking her nose where it didn't belong even after he pulled the Mephisto card. She was brave, Suguro had to give her that, but annoying.

She took a deep breath.

"I'm not going to do anything yet," she said slowly. "But if…"

"I get it," Ryuji cut in. "And don't worry. I'm not in habit of using people as my shields."

xxx

It was an early Sunday morning at the Burrow, but Molly Weasley decided to change her clothes for the fourth time, still not feeling quite right.

"Honey, are you sure you want to do that?" Arthur asked, finishing his morning tea and sending the cup to the sink, where the cleaning charm was still working and lazily scrubbing a lone pan. There was already set of the plates dripping wet on the drying rack over it.

"Of course I do!" She huffed at him angrily, then turned back to the mirror, frowning at her white blouse. "I really want to make up my mind about that man before letting Ginny go anywhere! But... do I look fine?"

"You're really pretty," Arthur said with a small chuckle and walked towards her. "Whatever you wear, you always look wonderful."

Molly chuckled. "Oh, stop that!"

"I'm really sorry I can't go with you."

"I don't mind," Molly sighed. "I know how hard you are working. Now go, before you get late!"

"Fine, fine!" he said quickly, walking towards the chimney. "And take care, honey."

"Yes, yes," Molly muttered, waving him a goodbye, then turning back towards the window.

It was ages since she was at the church and Molly was getting nervous. Especially since she was not going there to pray and make good impression, but to meet with an exorcist. Who was supposed to be a rather stern and cold person - at least that was what she gathered from Suguro and his friends when she asked about that man.

Molly wasn't sure if she wanted that sort of a person to teach her daughter. While being stern was definitely a good thing when someone was a teacher, Molly wasn't too sure about the other thing. What if the man decide to turn her sweet girl into his disciple and push her to fight those scary things?

The way people were acting about him wasn't helping. As she arrived at her destination, Molly hadn't actually any idea how to find the man on her own – it wasn't like anyone at the church was wearing an ID on their neck. Molly did the logical thing and asked one of the local priests – a small, thin man that had astonishing singing voice and almost no hair – about the guest. If she wasn't looking for exactly that sort of thing, Molly would surely not notice how hard the priest was trying to not to flinch. She felt like running away at the sight of too stiff shoulders and the forced smile of the man who then led her to the exorcist, but she followed instead.

Oddly enough, the first thing that came to her mind when she set her eyes on that Neuhaus man, was Remus Lupin. Not because they were looking similar, or had the same posture. Quite opposite. Lupin was always slightly stooped, his shoulders slumbered and clothes rather shabby, in uninteresting shades of brown.

Neuhaus was keeping his back straight to the point he seemed to be stiff as a stick. He was wearing black from head to toe and looked... unpleasant, to say the least. It wasn't the stern look Minerva McGonagall had, or something similar to the nasty glare Severus so liked to wear on his face. The man just had a certain aura of darkness around him Molly always imagined vampires to have.

"You're the perzon who vanted to talk?" he asked, looking down at her. It was hard for him to not to, he was probably higher than Suguro.

"Yes," Molly nodded, ignoring the unpleasant tone of his voice. "Do you have time now? Or would you prefer to set up another date?"

"I'm fine," he said. His voice told her he definitely wasn't in the mood for social contacts of any sorts, low and coarse, with a strong accent that made words seems to weigh a tone each.

"Follov," he said. Or rather, ordered.

Molly blinked. "Excuse me?"

"This is hardly the place for such a confferzazion," he explained with a pang of annoyance in his voice. "Unless you vish to spend the nearest hour on your knees in the confezional."

It was hard to not agree with him, so she decided to walk wherever Neuhaus was heading. Which wasn't that far. They entered the area where the visitors were usually not allowed and went down the narrow corridor. Someone jumped out of their way in hurry and Molly felt an odd wave of gratitude that she weren't the only one who found Neuhaus scary.

Molly had no idea what exactly was the room used for when creepy exorcist weren't around, but there was a long, wooden table in there and a set of comfortably looking chairs. The place looked quite cozy with long, thick curtains covered with a subtle flower pattern on the fabric. They were wide open, proudly demonstrating a row of potted flowers and a nice view on the outside.

"Wouldn't you mind me closing the curtains?" Molly asked.

"Whatever," Neuhaus just shrugged and sat down in one of the chairs.

Molly decided he was indeed letting her do whatever stroked her fancy, so she walked towards the window and closed the curtains shut, with a great care and spending much more time than usual on making sure that nobody could see them from the outside.

The exorcist was patiently walking for her to, turn around and rest on the chair on the opposite side of the table. Then Molly shifted nervously, because he hadn't said a word. Only staring at her, with his single eye and it was creeping her out much more that Mad-Eye Moody could even hope for.

"So..." she started carefully. "You control the same... creatures as my daughter."

"That's the theory," he nodded. "But it iz hard to tell anything without actually zeeing."

"I have a memory of it, it should help," Molly said quickly.

The exorcist raised an eyebrow.

Of course!, Molly felt like smacking herself over the head. How could he know what she had in mind, when he was a Muggle? How could she forget something like that in the first place anyway? She was taught about keeping the secrecy from her early childhood and now, here she was, spilling the beans all over the place. Though it could be because the man was freaking her out just by being there. No Muggle should have that sort of aura round him.

"I mean I can share it with you. Make you see what I saw. Literally." she explained.

"Huh," Neuhaus tilted his head to the side. "That actually zounds quite interesting. Proceed."

It was a very strange thing to say, but since Neuhaus was not a native speaker he could not have a full grasp over the language at this moment. He had a pretty strong accent that made all words coming out of his mind sound harsh.

A moment later, an image of Lance standing in the middle of the living room at the Grimmauld Place appeared between them. It included a very cheerful Ginny and dumbfolded Suguro too.

"Huh," was all Neuhaus had to say after carefully studying the monster.

"What?" Molly asked, carefully putting away the crystal bottle. One couldn't just store memories in just anything and creating of such containers was a pretty complicated art of its own. The barely visible pattern of runes on the surface was impressive and hard to read – not to mention to actually understand – for people with decent Ancient Runes OWLs like her. Because of that it was a pretty rare and expensive item. Black told her that she could take whatever she needed from his mansion, but she would still feel pretty bad owing him for the bottle. It was enough she had to ask for the instruction how to use it in the first place.

"That iz interesting."

Interesting. He was a Muggle, that was his very first contact with magic and all he had to say was that it was interesting. On the other hand, he was so stoic it was almost impossible to imagine him actually reacting in any other way to the wonders of magic.

"Can you tell us why... Lance is acting the way he is?"

"He spend too much time in Assiah," he said with an almost invisible shrug. "Here, I mean. He might have not inderact in any way vith your family, but he was capable of hearing you just fine."

"So... he turned out to be friendly and somewhat talkative because he learned it?"

"Zomebody Zomewhere down your line - or maybe your husband's - probably used it as a protective spirit. Zort of like a guard dog, to eat uninvited guests or zomething like that."

Molly shuddered at the implications.

"Whoever it was, bound the ghoul to the family bloodline instead of himzelf alone like it's usually done, so even after his death, the ghoul was stuck."

"But there was nobody to control him!" Molly pointed out nervously.

"While nobody until your daughter had the ability to control him – and that's only us guezing - he was still bout to the family as a whole."

So, it was a bit like a House Elf, only not doing dishes and quite on the stinky side? At least that was what Molly understood.

"Suguro said these things are difficult to control. And that they could attack the... what was the word?"

"Tamer," Neuhaus said. "And yes, they can, but apparently the long stay changed the ghouls aptitude. It's quite interesding, really."

"Interesting," Molly repeated after him. She was starting to hate this word.

Neuhaus just nodded, ignoring the tone of her voice.

"It didn't turned that ghoul into a teddy bear," he continued. "It is still dangerous for other people and even you; ghouls are uzually rather messy."

"I know," Molly said with a sigh.

"Choozing the right words while commanding is important," Neuhaus continued. "Even the most zympathetic spirits can mizinderpret what you have in mind. And I azzure you, ghouls are far from being nice."

"Suguro told Ginny that she is not supposed to call Lance at all."

"Your people are in the middle of something nasty, right?"

Molly slowly nodded.

"Then you can't predict what zituation she vill face. It iz better to think the commands through before you need pull the last ace out of your sleeve."

"But... it could be dangerous!"

"Zo the best course of action is to plan for these things before they happen," he stated, his voice flat. "Zo she won't serve herself addizional trauma by accidentally killing a perzon."

"I won't let her get into that sort of a fight!" Molly cried.

"Can you guarantee that?"

She wanted to tell him that yes, she was perfectly capable of keeping her daughter safe, thank you very much. But when Ginny stumbled upon that accused diary, Molly were anywhere near her daughter. And even if she was there, she still would be absolutely clueless. She knew how to degnome the garden, was a great cook and her biggest accomplishment was modifying a laundry spell, but fighting monsters – that was far beyond her abilities.

It was the most terrifying moment of her life, to learn that Ginny was in grave danger that even Dumbledore couldn't her get out of and she promised herself to do anything to keep this situation from repeating itself.

Molly took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, putting herself together.

"What exactly," she asked. "Are you planning on teaching my daughter?"

Neuhaus just smirked at her and then started talking, explaining the basics. It was as horrifying as Molly expected it to be.

xxx

"How come you're so much better at it than I am?!" Harry groaned with frustration. He managed to psyche himself into expecting that re-learning Parseltongue would be more like riding a bike or doing math - that he just needed a kick for the whole thing to jumpstart and start working like nothing ever happened.

Obviously, it wasn't the case.

The more he tried to repeat Jabber's hisses, the more that little snake looked like she was going to smash her head into a wall, repeatedly. Harry shared the sentiment, at least in between feeling stupid and embarrassed. The walls of the Room of Requirement already got suspiciously fluid, like they were about to become padded with pillows. Dobby introduced them to the place when they asked him where they could safely hide while he was turning the Chamber of Secrets into something that wasn't a deathtrap. It was glorious, taking all the shapes they wanted it to and filling with useful trinkets, but it also seemed to have an odd sense of humor. Which was quite creepy, since it was a room. Magical, but still. Rooms were not supposed to develop a personality.

"I have no idea," Ron shrugged hopelessly. He looked like he felt very sorry for doing better at Harry in talking snake, but he also seemed to be as lost in this whole situation as Harry felt. The snake was looking in his direction too, it's head lolled a little to the side. Sometimes Harry had the weird feeling that Jabber decided that imitating Ron was a fun thing to do.

"Seriously, what I'm doing wrong?"

Jabber hissed something. While Harry couldn't tell what it was, he was certain that was a snicker.

"Uh..." Ron furrowed his brow. "Your accent is kinda way off?"

Harry grimaced. His friend was many thing, but subtle wasn't among them. Him trying to spare Harry's feeling, that actually sting more than most of the things Harry heard in his life. "How off?"

"Like me trying to speak Japanese?"

"You don't know Japanese."

"Exactly."

Once again, Harry groaned, hiding face in the palm of his hand. It was frustrating and annoying, but it wasn't all that bad. Since Ron somehow was able to not only tell the hisses apart but also repeat the sounds close enough to the real thing to gain Jabber's approval. Because of that, opening the Chamber of Secrets wasn't impossible anymore and that was everything they really needed. They continued to work with Jabber because Harry was stubborn and Ron found it enjoyable.

"Oh, you're still working with Jabber?" Was the first thing Hermione said, when she sat next to them, dropping her heavy bag on the table. The room helpfully enlarged the desk, so there was still a lot of space for all the books and other items she started to dig out of seemingly endless purse. "Good! There's no way to tell if we won't need that language for something in the future."

"For what?"

"I don't know yet," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Then why aren't you learning it with us?" Ron muttered.

"It's not like I'm not helping!" the girl huffed. "I'm helping making notes and all! I just... if I learned something important during our third year it was to not try and do everything at once, I guess."

Ron snorted.

"Are you going to be angry if we agree with that statement?" Harry chuckled. "By the way, how exactly are you making notes, if the Parseltongue is well... I don't think snakes and writing mix together?"

"That's the troublesome part," the girl sighed. "I had to ask mom for help."

"Your mom?" Ron shook his head. "Isn't she a teeth healer?"

"She's a dentist," Hermione nodded. "But she knows lots of people and the internet connection. She's pretty much looking for things linguistic related for me and sending it over here. I think the school owls are starting to hate me for all those piles of paper they have to drag around..."

"Linguistic?" Harry asked. "But how that's even working? I mean... snakes."

"That's why it's all so painfully slow," Hermione sighed. "I pretty much have to create all of the writing part of the language on my own, but I can't do that if I don't understand how it works and how it evolves, but snakes are a different species, so-"

"Okay, okay!" Ron said quickly. "We understand! At least that part about how much work it is. The part with all those crazy muggle words not so much, but we trust you!"

"...unless it comes to not biting into too much," Harry snickered. "Didn't you just told us that you are not going to bite too much ever again?"

Hermione blushed.

"Busted!" Ron grinned.

"By the way, how are you going to explain all these papers if Umbridge decided to snoop around?" Harry asked. "We all know how she is when it comes to anything that's not magical."

Hermione shrugged. "I'm just going to tell her that I want to understand Japanese," she said smugly. "Why it's so different than English and so on."

"You're just going to play it on the fascination over how exotic miss Hojo is?"

"It's not like she's not all over that woman," Hermione shook her head. "Same as many people at the school."

Well, she was right. At times, the whole situation looked plain ridiculous; a bunch of Slytherins were trying very hard to get onto her good side, hoping that it would clear their way towards her sisters, Umbridge was sweettalking her because of political reasons, not to mention Mr. Filch. Mamushi herself was spinning the web of half-truths with terrifying grace, never openly lying.

"While we're at people at school," Ron changed the topic. "You guys thing that we could start the whole defense club thing?"

Harry hummed in agreement. "Dobby said that everything down in the Chamber is sparkling clean now and even dragged down a sofa or two. No idea where he managed to find that."

It was better not to ask and just accept the state of things. The last time they asked how Dobby managed to do something, they ended up with a very long, ridiculously awkward conversation and even longer trip through the castle, because the elf just needed to show them everything, while narrating the whole thing once again. Nobody wanted to repeat that experience any time soon.

"Why are you suddenly so enthusiastic about it anyway?" Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Is it about your sister?"

"Ginny?" Ron blinked, then energetically shook his head. "Why do you think that? She got her own thing to do this weekend…"

His Mom wasn't happy about it at all, for some reason. On the other hand, it was going to be an exercise in controlling a man-eating demon, so…

"And it's exactly why you want to start the defense club," Hermione shook her head. "You want to keep her away, don't you?"

"I don't!" he protested. "I just… She's got her hands full already and Mom barely agreed for her to meet the dude Suguro dug out from somewhere. If she learned that Ginny was getting into a whole other thing that could be possibly dangerous-"

"Aren't you getting too far away with that?" Harry asked carefully. "Learning is not going to hurt her, or anything."

"Yeah, but undermining Umbridge's authority now, with all that undead stuff going on around her?" Ron shook his head. "No way. I know she's probably going to be really angry about this whole thing, but she can't do everything at once and get away with it."

"The question is," Hermione crossed arms on her chest. "Why you are the one to make the decision for her. Shouldn't she be the one to choose what to do with her time?"

Ron sighed heavily. "You're right. But look at this like that: we have a guy who travelled all the way here just for Ginny and he's ready to spend a lot of his time on teaching her just because he's a decent person. We can't just tell him to screw off because Ginny decided to do something else with her free time!"

Not to mention it would royally piss off Suguro and nobody wanted that. He was quite scary when angered.

"It wouldn't be nice," Hermione agreed. "Still, it looks like you're trying to force this whole thing down her throat."

"I'm… I'm worried, okay?" Ron groaned and closed his hands into fists. "She almost died once already, just because she didn't know what she was doing. And we all saw what these things can do, right? I just don't want to see her like that ever again. "

The girl exhaled deeply, slowly relaxing her hands. "I still think you should go and talk to her about that. Not about what you think she should do, but what you're afraid of. But that's your decision. I'm not… I'm not going to repeat what I did with Harry's Firebolt."

Both boys slightly grimaced at the mention of what had happened two years ago. Back then, it felt like Hermione betrayed their trust, stabbed them in the back and demanded a prize for what she's done, while twisting the knife at the same time.

Now, however… It looked different, Harry though.
Or maybe it was just Suguro who rationalized the whole thing to the point there was no choice but to agree that flying on a broom from an unknown source while a supposed homicidal maniac was on the loose wasn't the smartest idea.

"Thanks," Ron nodded with a small smile. "Really. And I promise, I'm going talk to her. Just not now. Right after the guy says that she's safe. Safeish, even."

Hermione just smiled, her mouth shut tight into a pale line. It looked like they agreed to disagree.

xxx

As every other year, Hogwarts students were restlessly awaiting the Hogsmeade weekend. This time probably even more than usual, considering the fact that the few hours out of the castle meant that they would spend a few hours away from Umbridge. even the Slytherins acted like it was a thing worth living for. It also said a lot about what sort of a person Dolores Umbridge was.

Ginny Weasley was also restless, constantly checking the time and counting every hour, but for a whole different reason than the rest of the students.

It was the middle of the October and Suguro finally managed to made a contact with that guy who was supposed to teach her and mom actually gave it a go. It was a chance, Ginny couldn't waste. She needed the help. Accidentally hurting someone like her brother got hurt... that would be an awful, awful thing to happen.

There was also the other thing, the one that made Ginny nervous about the whole meeting. She wanted to learn how to properly control Lance, how to command him, because that was power. And she wanted power, since having it would mean that being helpless like she was three years ago wouldn't repeat that easily. There also was that little, ugly part of her that wanted the power just for the sole sake of having power. That was exactly what made Ginny worry about the meeting - what if the guy notices that she wasn't all that innocent? What if he will find something else? Something dark and ugly, that would made him to turn around and walk away and then warn mom and Suguro and everybody else about what she could become...

Ginny shook her head.

"This is getting ridiculous!"

Speaking out loud wasn't making it any better, but well, not like someone was listening.

"Divination is a bull and the guy is supposed to be a Muggle anyway," Ginny continued to rationalize. "There's no way for him to see right through me."

There was also no reason for ugly things to hide inside Ginny's head, since Voldemort's spirit disappeared without a trace as soon as Harry destroyed that awful diary.

Ginny put on her brave face and marched down the staircase, to join all the people who already started crowding the Great Hall, filling the place with enthusiastic chatter about all sorts of things they wanted to buy and visit during the trip, telling stories about the place to younger students and doing many different things. She exchanged smiles here and there, played her part for a little while and then there was time for her to disappear in one of the alleys.

She reappeared what it seemed to be a middle of nowhere. Only what looked like an old, muggle road, riddled with holes and cracks, framed by a sad line of leafless trees and a sea of high, dry grass. There was a rusty sign standing nearby. The shield looked like it was about to come off at any time, the letters not recognizable anymore. Looking up closely, Ginny could spot an old, dust-road, hidden in the deep sea of dry, tangled grass. It wasn't leading anywhere anymore; all there was to see was a high, stone fence, half-broken down and covered in moss, with gates in surprisingly good shape considering how bad everything else around looked like. All that was visible behind it, was a broken roof of some old building, riddled with holes.

It was windy in the Hogsmeade, the usual weather during the Autumn with the never ending promise of rain. In This place the air was unmoving and the time felt like it stood still along with it.

Ginny slowly turned around, searching for something, anything that would point her what was next. Did the exorcist just dissed her? Made her show up in the middle of nowhere for no reason other than a few laughs?

"Patience and faith are important vhen you try to control a dangerous sbirit."

The sudden masculine voice with a heavy accent almost made Ginny jump. almost. She forced herself to keep still, not wanting to show any signs of weakness.

Which was spotted.

"Vell, aren't you a tough one," Ginny could hear clearly the sarcasm in his voice.

She turned around, not too quickly, since it could lead to accidentally tripping or something and that was the last thing she wanted him to see during their first meeting. Even if the git seemed to be as charming as Professor Snape, Ginny was going to plaster a pleasant smile on her face and milk the chance all the way through.

The man indeed is high and unpleasant, looking down onto her with his single eye, but at least there's no sneer on his face. The expression is blank to the point the mysterious exorcist looks more like a well detailed mannequin than a real man.

"How did you get here?" Ginny asked. She had to start the conversation somehow and it was as good as anything. Hopefully it would spare the usual weather-nonsense. They were standing on the British Isles, the weather always sucked. No need to repeatedly pointing that one out.

"Though the doorz," he said, like it was explaining everything.

"There's nothing on the other side of that doors."

"Not on that other zide, no."

Ginny felt weirded out, until she remembered; there was a key, a small golden thing that Suguro gave her mum when they needed to get Fred to the safety of muggle hospital. it created - opened? - a path that had no right to be there.

"Right..." she muttered. Now Ginny probably knew why Muggle families were always so uneasy around the magic when they were sending their kids to Hogwarts, or at least a little bit of it. Or how the Muggleborns felt among their wizard-born friends; having the ability to produce sparks while waving a wand, but not really members of the society, not part of the world yet.

"You definitely have an interezding aura," he stated all of sudden. The gaze of his sole eye was cold and locked right onto her, like the man was calculating Ginny's worth.

"Excuse me?"

"You know exactly vat I'm talking about."

Ginny slowly nodded. It was hardly a riddle. What else interesting was there to see in her aura than that?

"I was eleven and stupid."

"And now you're not?"

"Now I at least know to not trust strangers so easily." Her Dad always was talking about how one wasn't supposed to trust things if their didn't know where the brain was. Ginny learned, than even with humans, brain all intact and stuck neatly in the scull, there was still a lot of space for betrayal. The Diary was just on the whole different level when it came to trickstery and manipulating.

The man smirked. "And yet, you're here, talking to a complete stranger, hoping to achieve what, exactly?"

"I'm not sure how much do you know about what is going on… at my place. Sir." Ginny said carefully. He was a Muggle, that she definitely knew. Suguro had to tell him something about magic, but how much, she had no way of telling. Ginny didn't want to outright break the law. With people like Umbridge holding power – and she was sure there were many more just like that awful woman – it wasn't worth the risk.

"And what it changes?" the man humorlessly smirked. "There alwayz are dangers, lurking around. There's always a reazon for zeeking power."

"That power more like bumped into me than the other way around," Ginny murmured. "It's not like I woke up one day and decided that controlling some dead spirit is the way to go with my life."

Seriously, who in the right mind would even imagine a that such a thing was even possible? There were those nasty stories about vampires and the inferi, the muggleborn students brought a whole bunch of entertaining stories about murderers strolling though nightmares and zombies. But those were just that - stories. Then they turned real all of sudden on her, her whole family and friends.

"Suguro told me the basics. The books of his helped, too."

"There are no details, though, are they?"

"I know it is dangerous," Ginny shrugged, desperately trying to act like she wasn't getting more and more scared with every passing minute. The guy still could decline, or treat her like an interesting thing to observe and make notes or something "So it's logical to learn some more, right? To not screw things up."

"Zmart thing," he said. "I haven't decided yet if I like you or fear vat you and your kin can bring upon the vorld."

"I'm not the one who's trying to conquer it," Ginny pointed out. She just couldn't put a finger on this man. He was scary, just in the same way Suguro was. Probably more, especially with that ice-cold glare of his.

"Then you want to zave it?"

"If I can help with that," Ginny shrugged. "Then I will. But I want your help not because of that. I... hurt people, once. you can say it was a spirit. Kind of. I don't want for it to repeat. "

He nodded. "Fair enough."

So... did she do good? Was that a pass, or the man was just making up his mind and talking to himself, or something like that? Ginny found him extremely difficult to read, even more than Professor Snape. With him, you could at least tell if he was hating you more or less than the next person. This Neuhaus guy... his face was absolutely blank for most of the time and even the short moments where he showed amusement were not telling her anything important.

Or maybe they were - sometimes she got that odd feeling from him, that every change of hi face expression was coming a split of second too late, like he was deciding to smile or frown instead of just doing that.

Ginny wanted to curse or kick, or do something, because she was just so damn confused.

She didn't, because that would be childish and Ginny needed to create a good image. Or something like that.

"You have to pozzess zome zort of a talent when you want to be a tamer. A connection to a zpirit, one are you born with. But it's not the most important thing," Neuhaus continued.

Ginny furrowed her brow. "It's not?"

"You can create a contract vith a zpirit if you find one that's villing to work vith you. You can on favors and you can promise zomething in exchange... vich isn't too different from vhat a natural-born tamer is doing."

"Exchange?" Ginny furrowed her brow. "I remember, when Suguro decided to give it a try and check if someone from my family got a thing for summoning Lance... He said that the drop of blood is an offering."

"It iz," Neuhaus nodded shortly. "But at the zame time, it's not good enough for many zpirits."

He took a deep breath.

"A zpirit usually is not your zervant. More like a pardner. He vill demand his share or payment for their favors."

"That make sense..." Ginny muttered. She would be pissed if someone was asking her for help with the homework over and over again and had no decency to even buy her a butterbeer afterwards. "So, how do you know what a spirit would like?"

"Uzually you just have to ask your zummon for preferenzess..."

Ginny grimaced.

"Uzually their preferenzess are pretty cloze to vhat their element iz about, or how they are portrayed in the folklore. For example, fire zpirits will listen only if your blood iz pure enough-"

"Seriously?" Ginny raised eyebrows. "Spirits are blood purist too?"

"It's more complicated than that, but I sav more than onze a fire zpirit refusing to do vork with their zummoners."

"That must've sucked."

"At least they are not prone to attack the zummoner they deem unworthy... which lead uz to the mozd important part of this converzadion."

"The...ghouls are one of those…who attack?"

"I waz told you're already avare of how dangerouz they could be," Neuhaus said coldly. "And vhile you should have zome zort of rezisdance to the poizoning, people around you won't be zo lucky."

Lucky... Ginny would call it anything but that. To live while someone else died, with the knowledge it was your fault, your stupidity that brought that death... a terrifying thing to imagine. She shuddered, then stole a gaze up at the man.

"Did you ever...?"

As soon as the words left her lips, Ginny deeply regretted asking the question. It was more than just deeply personal. She was getting shamelessly curious about something, that probably was the greatest tragedy that could even happen in a life of someone like him. Them.

"I'm sorry!" she said quickly. "Can we please act like there was no question? That was really uncalled for."

He shook his head. "Blood iz zomedhing you are going to zee zpilled, no matter if you're a tamer or no. The path of an exorcist iz a dirty one, no matter hov hard you try."

Ginny licked her lips. "There's no other path for me, isn't it?"

Not with that ability she now possessed. Lancelot was a deadly weapon, an Avada Kadavra on the tip of the wand already shining sickly greenish and there was no way to escape. The death was on every other path available too, patiently waiting for Ginny to lose control over Lance. The only thing she could possibly change was who the dead body would belong to.

The morbid through turned her blood into ice.

No escape.

xxx

Ginny frowned, observing what was going in the Common Room from her corner, hiding face behind a heavy volume of Transmutation textbook, feeling a wave of anger rushing over her like ice-cold water. She forced herself to breathe steadily, but it was hard, almost painful effort.

It all started with a crying second year that walked into a Common Room one late October evening. The girl, with mousy hair bind in two pigtails apparently dared to do something to annoy Umbridge - probably just said something to a colleague or stuff like that - enough for the woman to call for the detention.

And now she was back, terrified, humiliated and in pain, sobbing frantically as the older students tried to calm her down.

Katie Bell, like a responsible Qudditch team captain she was, had her own supplies of creams to reduce pain and swelling so she ran to her dorm and back to get the balm. It was much better than dragging twelve year old girl all the way to the Hospital Wing.

The air soon filled with thick smell of medicine and herbs.

Ginny swallowed.

Something had to be done. Hurting children - or anybody else - like that was despicable and had to stop, no matter what.

But they all were just children that could do literally nothing against the Ministry. Even teachers, including Dumbledore himself, seemed to be hopeless. They only could keep Umbridge occupied with other things than students and this particular strategy wasn't always working.

She observed the people in the common room, all of them suddenly quiet and gloom and chewed on her thumb.

Attacking Umbridge face-on, while a very Griffindor thing to do, wouldn't' work in the slightest. The old hag would use that as opportunity to oppress all of the Griffindors even more. Pranking her would end up with a similar result.

That wasn't what Ginny wanted. She wanted little kids to stop crying like that, holding on their bloodied hands and the easiest way to keep them from getting hurt was to keep the tool of the torture as far from the Umbridge, as possible.

Ginny was lucky or maybe she just keep her head low for long enough to keep the woman for paying attention to her up till now. But she heard the stories about the detentions in the horrendous room filled with kittens paintings meowing from the walls and the quill that was writing with blood.

It clearly was a dark artifact. Ginny heard enough about them from her dad, who told a lot of storied about what he encountered in his work. Mom never let her listen to such things, but Ginny was very good at not being noticed when she didn't want to be.

Items like the quills Umbridge used were definitely illegal, but since the woman was so high up Ministry hierarchy, Ginny doubted that anybody would do anything at all. Even if somebody extracted the memories of students from all of the Houses and send them to the minister himself, she doubted that Umbridge will receive even a slap on the wrist.

No. If she wanted to do something to stop Umbridge, she had to do it herself. Because Ginny was the only one, who had the ability to. Even if a lot of people was going to be seriously angry with her for even considering this option.

A/N: Hi there!
I'm sorry for not updating for so long (again -_-'), but I've somewhat burned out and needed time to recharge my batteries. Monthly updates, while very nice from readers perspective, are somewhat exhausting on this end. And writing is supposed to be that time when I'm all about relaxing and having fun.
(And okay, Neuhaus, no matter ho much I adore the guy, wasn't exactly cooperating. I also wasted a lot of time toying around accent translators, because I wanted him to "sound" cool...)