Hoshi no Hikari

Jedi Goat

Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter or Bleach.

Author's Note - Yeah, well, this took a little longer than expected. -.- Sorry about that, guys.

Chapter 7 – It's Nothing Personal, Really…

"That – that had to be dangerous!" Fred accused her as soon as he found his voice.

Luna shrugged, slipping her wand back behind her ear. "I suppose so. If you had been a normal human, removing your soul would have likely killed you."

Her nonchalant gaze was more than a little disconcerting. "Warn me next time before you do that, yeah?" he grumped, rubbing his head. When she only stared at him, he sighed heavily and glanced down at himself. His body felt the same – he tried clenching and unclenching his fists, finding himself to feel reassuringly solid. However, he was quite certain that if someone walked in now, they would see Luna appearing to be talking to herself.

He wondered again if she was really as crazy as everyone seemed to think. Maybe by this point, she only appeared normal in comparison to his own growing insanity. He would have laughed, if his stomach wasn't rolling over right now.

"Hey," he noted suddenly, "my Hogwarts robes…"

Fred didn't know how he'd neglected to realize it before. What had been his school uniform had transformed – what he now wore was a silky black kimono with a white sash at the waist, similar to something he'd seen pictures of eastern wizards wearing. He sported white sandals as well.

"That is the Shinigami uniform," Luna stated matter-of-factly. Glancing over at her, he realized she'd taken the liberty of dragging his corporeal self behind a desk, out of immediate sight of anyone who happened to look in on them. He grimaced.

"You know, the whole soul-leaving-the-body thing really puts a creepy twist on this."

She chose to ignore that comment. "You are a Shinigami now, Fred Weasley. You will soon find your abilities and stamina are much enhanced from when you were contained in physical form. However, limits still apply." She eyed him thoughtfully.

"A Shinigami's unique strengths are their extra speed and strength as well as skill with a zanpakuto. Finally, you will find your wand-based magic will not work in this form. Shinigami rely on a separate branch of magic, called kido."

"I was trying to find something on it in the library," he explained. "There was something about ninjutsu –"

"Not quite. Kido is spellcasting directed only with the spoken word – incantations. It is similar, however, in that it requires immense inner focus to execute properly."

"Let me guess, meditation."

She smiled at him. "You have done your research."

"Earlier," Fred said, "you mentioned something about training –"

"You're not quite ready for Shinigami training yet," she said distantly. "In the meantime, start to practice meditation. I will also make a list of spells you should memorize."

"Wait," he said, a bit put out by how quickly she dismissed him, "why aren't I ready?"

Luna blinked, "Well, your zanpakuto has not chosen you yet, has it?"

"Well, no, but what does that have to do with anything?" he growled.

"You cannot be a Shinigami without one. It is the first indication of the nature of your abilities – if it hasn't chosen to show itself yet, then your abilities aren't fully awakened yet, are they?"

"What am I supposed to do, wait around until a sword shows up?" The stress of the last few days had pushed his patience to its limit. As Luna remained silent, he growled, "Look, the Dementors are right outside the castle – I don't have time to waste."

She shook her head slightly. "They will not move for a while yet. They know not yet of our presence."

"Listen, Luna," he sighed, "I don't have time to mess around, all right? I haven't slept right since we got to Hogwarts, and my life's not exactly peachy either right now. The only way...the only way I can at least try to fix it is if I figure this out. Can you understand that?"

She closed her eyes regretfully. "You are not ready…" She let out a breathy sigh. "If you must, then strike me."

"Er, what?"

"Attack me," she repeated. "If you can, then I will train you."

"Er…all right." He regarded her in confusion; she perched cross-legged on the edge of the desk, unmoving, her wand still stuck behind her right ear. She has no way to fight back… He shook his head, arousing his determination. All right, I just have to do this!

Squaring his shoulders, he circled nearer, keeping a wary eye on her wand. She made no move for it; her utter stillness was more than a little unnerving, and it spurred him into motion. With a yell he lunged suddenly, fist pulled back, aiming for her side.

I won't hit her hard – just enough to score a hit –!

He didn't get a chance to execute his plan. As soon as he swung down toward her, Luna's eyes flickered open; fast as flashing lightning she disappeared. His punch met only air – gaping in shock, he saw her at the corner of his eye, behind him. She's so fast -! As if in slow motion he turned.

Luna's hand glanced sharply off the back of his neck; the blow was enough to send him reeling, and as he fell he heard her murmur behind him, "This was the only way. I'm sorry."

Then the ground rushed up at him, and he succumbed to darkness.

Professor Trelawney's classroom lay at the top of one of Hogwarts' many spiraling towers. The stuffy room was crowded with small plush stools and chairs in various states of dilapidation; the fifth year class now settled among them, shifting anxiously. A heavy cloud of perfume and incense hung in the air; George's eyes watered as he scanned the gloomy chamber.

Fred wasn't there.

Of course, he corrected himself, it wasn't like he was worried or anything. Fred could skip class all he wanted; at this point he didn't really care. He wasn't sure why he was here either, he reflected, glancing around the tiny table he currently shared with Lee Jordan and Alicia Spinnet. He was only taking Divination to fill up his schedule – and even though the class was obviously a hoax, he and Fred found it rather amusing to mess with their professor's mind. Since third year they had gleefully predicted each others' demises in increasingly bizarre fashions every time she asked the class to practice their skills.

Well, since neither he nor Fred felt much like laughing right now, or even addressing each other, the class presented only an hour and a half of boredom.

At that moment their teacher, bundled in layers of shawls and adjusting her large, bug-like spectacles, appeared from behind a curtain. "Good morning, my dears," she whispered, sweeping into their midst. By now the fifth years were used to her unusual appearance, and merely blinked. Lee yawned widely.

"Welcome back for another year of the delicate study of the future," she murmured. "Of course, I foresaw your continuation in this course –" Lee barely stifled a snort, and George offered a half-smile at his not-so-discreet attempt to lift the mood "- and I sense great things yet to come from some of you."

"And I sense someone's off her meds again," Lee imitated in a whisper. Alicia lightly punched him beneath the table.

"Quiet, you!"

Professor Trelawney went on obliviously. "Now, we will begin this year with a look back at what we finished last year. Yes, I do believe we should start with palmistry." She approached a Hufflepuff in the front row, whose expression paled in petrification as she ran a long bony finger over his palm. "Hmm… This upward curve here shows good luck in your future…"

She dropped his hand to face the class, the Hufflepuff looking rather relieved. "Now, pair up and open your books to page 144 to assist you."

There was a scuffle of motion as people bent to retrieve battered copies of Unfogging the Future. Lee and George bent over Alicia's book, neither having bothered to bring their own. She cast them a hapless look.

"Really, you guys? I thought we were through with this last year…"

"Think I burned mine," said George apologetically. "Gets really cold in the winter here, you know?" He and Lee exchanged high-fives as Alicia rolled her eyes.

"Fine – I get to read yours first." Before he could protest, Alicia grabbed George's right hand and flipped it over. "Hmm," she imitated Trelawney's nasal sound, tracing her fingers along his lifeline. "I'm so sorry, Weasley. It looks like… you're going to be beaten up by someone you thought was your friend."

"Aw, come off it," George said mock-crossly as Alicia giggled. Shaking his head, he made a grab for her hand when Lee elbowed him suddenly in the side.

"Look who it is," he hissed.

George turned. A familiar redhead had just slipped through the trap door entrance, now tiptoeing quickly toward Angelina Johnson's table. George said nothing, turning away; his good humor had suddenly evaporated. Lee continued to watch Fred with a frown – though he didn't glance their way, he was rubbing slightly at the back of his neck and grimacing. Angelina whispered something to him, but he shook his head.

"He's been acting strangely lately, hasn't he?" Alicia murmured from George's other side.

He made a noise of discontent. "Don't remind me."

"But, seriously…" Lee dropped his voice, turning back to the two anxiously. "I dunno what's up between the two of you, but he was talking to Loony Lovegood at breakfast."

George's blood ran cold.

"Loony?" Alicia asked in fascination. "You mean that Ravenclaw second year everyone's always talking about?"

"Yeah, that one. She's loopy, she is." Lee shook his head. "George, don't you think you should –"

"No." Coldly he stared at the open page of Alicia's textbook, littered with diagrams of the fine lines of peoples' palms. The other two were watching him, hesitant; he refused to meet their eye. What happened between him and Fred had nothing to do with them… It twisted his stomach just to think of it, of the way Fred could just toss aside his entire life for the sake of some eerie dreams. He shook his head to clear a sudden cold that had seeped in, and raised his head.

"George," Alicia said cautiously, "this isn't because of…well…" She shifted uncomfortably.

"Because of what?" he snapped.

"…Well, Angelina…"

George stared at her a moment blankly. Alicia bit her lip, then elaborated, "Well, you're not jealous, are you? That they're going out?"

His face turned an interesting shade of red. "No, I am not jealous," he declared, so loudly that a table of Slytherins nearby sniggered. He glared in their direction, continuing in a bit more restrained a tone, "That's about the farthest thing from my mind, Alicia."

"…Oh." She lowered her eyes. She looked so embarrassed, George reached out to reassure her.

"Listen, what's between me and Fred –"

Motion across the room distracted him; Professor Trelawney, bat-like in her lengthy shawls, had just descended on his twin's table. Angelina had been attempting to read his palm when she approached. "If I may have a look, Mr. Weasley…"

"Er, sure," said Fred, a bit unnecessarily, as she snatched his right hand away without waiting for his reply. She stared into his palm a moment, brow furrowed; then she dropped it with a sudden startled gasp.

Half the class, George's table included, jumped. Trelawney backed away, her hand over her mouth.

"My dear child…"

"What?" demanded Fred, rather peeved.

"Your lifeline is so…so pale… I'm afraid you may very well soon be leaving us," she rasped out.

"Yeah, in about an hour," Fred shot back.

Professor Trelawney drew herself up. "This is nothing to joke about, young man. You may not have an eye for the future but I… I see terrible things ahead." She had raised a trembling finger, pointing at him.

"Thanks for the warning," Fred said flatly. "Really appreciate it."

The class had fallen utterly silent, watching their exchange; Fred had crossed his arms defiantly, staring her down, while Professor Trelawney drew herself up to her full height, her eyes bulging more than usual. It was admittedly an amusing sight, if George hadn't been so adamant on not laughing.

When a nearby Hufflepuff timidly interrupted with a question on her friend's palm-reading, the stillness was shattered abruptly. Professor Trelawney swept away to look at their hands instead, leaving Fred to make a rather rude gesture behind her back. The class dissolved back into welcome whispers until, at long last, the bell signaled their release.

At lunch, they – meaning Lee, Alicia, and Angelina – eagerly shared the story with their fourth-year friend Katie Bell. Fred had once again disappeared to who knew where (George suspected he'd sighted him descending in the direction of the kitchens, but said nothing). Katie, meanwhile, didn't look too amused by their tale, her eyes rather round as Lee and Alicia giggled.

"You don't think she really meant it," she reproached them anxiously.

"Relax, Katie," Angelina said, also grinning. "It's not the first time Trelawney's done something like this. Remember third year?" She glanced around at the other fifth years, who nodded, Lee grinning widely.

"Oh, yeah, she predicted you would kick it next, didn't she?"

"M-hmm," said Angelina. "Had a Quidditch match the next week too – I was half convinced to sit the game out until Fred told me even turkeys could see the future better than that old hag."

"Well, that does sound like something he'd say," Katie agreed, smiling slightly. It disappeared the next instant as she sighed, "I just hope he's all right…"

George knew they all chanced a glance at him at that, but said nothing.

The week was immeasurably long for Fred. Though he could sleep again, at least enough to keep himself functioning, nightmares now came to haunt his dark dreams. They seemed to revolve mainly around George; after a particularly horrible one where he looked on as a Dementor devoured his twin, he awoke in a cold sweat. For the rest of the night he strived to meditate to keep the memory at bay.

Despite the difficult nights, at least he didn't have to explain his actions to everyone. Every day was a mindless ritual – finding himself awake at ridiculously early hours, he'd taken to the common room to meditate and work on repeating, in hushed tones, a long list of incantations Luna had provided him with. After that he rejoined the sleepy-eyed others for breakfast and morning classes; lunch was spent in the kitchens or the library, studying pictorials of the eastern wizards fighting with swords or bare fists. He'd also, on a surprisingly kind tip from Madam Pince, discovered a book on muggle martial arts that complemented it nicely. When he took to the kitchens again, he vowed to start practicing these techniques as well. His neck was a throbbing reminder of what those dangerous skills could do – he hadn't managed to look Luna in the eye since.

When classes finished, he devoted a brief period to homework and catching up in schoolwork – it was a slow process and it made his head pulse for hours afterward, but he was determined not to fall far enough behind in his courses that he aroused suspicion. Then two hours were devoted to detention with Snape – which was positively torturous – after which he was far too exhausted to do much but fall into bed and dream.

Thursday dawned the same as any other day, and Fred noted, thoughtlessly, that already a week had passed since their arrival at Hogwarts, and George had stopped speaking to him. Everything had become so blurred since Luna's revelation…

He was clawing through his trunk for a missing sock when a familiar voice made him stop short.

"Fred…"

He glanced up.

George stood over him, his hair still a tousled mess from his pillow, not quite meeting his eye. He played with a tear in his sleeve as he muttered, "Listen… Are you still…dreaming?"

It was the first sentence he'd spoken to him in about a week. Fred cracked a tired grin and was glad, for once, to be able to tell the truth.

"Not for a while now."

George nodded distractedly. "That's good, right?" He glanced up and their gazes locked; searching his eyes, Fred saw none of his previous hostility. They were both burned out and exhausted.

"It is," Fred concurred with a jerky nod. "They might be gone for good." If his training worked out with Luna…

"That would be really great." George smiled slightly, a hint of his old self returning to him as an almost malicious glint appeared in his eyes. "We should do something to commemorate it… I think Snape's deserving of a little thank-you present, don't you?"

Fred shook his head, chuckling weakly. "You just read my mind, Georgie."

"Oi! I thought we agreed you wouldn't call me that?"

George was grimacing at him in such chagrin that Fred threw back his head and laughed. It was like the past week had only been a dream – a dragged-out nightmare at that. George joined him after a moment, grinning broadly.

"You know, ickle Freddikins, I think we've left the castle in peace long enough."

"I'm liking the way you think Georgie-porgie. Do share this genius idea of yours."

George made a face at him. "I'm thinking, brother of mine, that it is time for a Weasley twin welcome-back special."

"Ah," observed Fred. "But you miss a fine detail, brother of mine. We are already a week late in planning this."

"All the better to make it something big," George smiled. "They won't see it coming."

"Well now, I never thought you would be the dastardly one. I suppose, since I got the good looks, you had to get something."

"Oi!" George grabbed the nearest pillow and flung it at his head. "We're identical, you idiot!"

"You just keep telling yourself that," Fred chortled, ducking.

"You two fighting again?" Lee muttered, raising his head from his now pillow-less bed. Seeing their identical evil grins, he groaned, "Aw, c'mon, at least let a poor bloke sleep around here." He, however, couldn't resist grinning as well.

"Never –" began Fred.

"- There shall not be peace at Hogwarts –"

"- Until the handsomely devious Weasley twins –"

"- One of whom has an irreversibly large ego –"

"Hey now, I was going to let you be deviously handsome."

"Well, all right then."

"- Not until the handsomely devious and deviously handsome Weasley twins are through with them," Fred concluded with a broad smirk.

Three seconds later, he and George were bombarded with pillows courtesy of Lee and their other sleepy dorm-mates.

To be continued...

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