Chapter Text
Rukia Kuchiki had, throughout her afterlife, dreamt of a castle by a lake, shrouded in fog pierced by moonlight and guarded by mountains to all sides. Being a poor orphan who had only known the harshness of the Rukongai, it took some time for her to conceptualize these visions ( Her earliest memories of a “castle” were of a…..certain establishment in a grimier area that catered to specific interests that no child should have business with ) but she held to them because they gave her something to distract her mind from the realities around her. She would imagine stories of clever children like herself triumphing over shadowy evils and her mighty blade shining high towards the cloudless sky. This continued all throughout her time there and throughout her eventual acceptance into the Gotei 13’s ranks, along the way being joined by other strange, visions: A boy with raven black hair and eyes so very green, a boy with red hair and spotted with freckles, she remembered distant sights and sounds that were fantastic to behold. She was amongst them and she felt warmth and coldness from each other, but she knew that they were her friends, right? She remembered cats and snakes dancing in a circle in a void while she was locked in place, knowing, at least in her dream, that there was something more to be understood but never grasping the truth. And, most vividly of all, she remembered a dark night, a graveyard, and a flash of green.
She shivered at the memory, it WAS death, but in what form, she did not know. But, she put it out of her mind, life refused her respite as she worked tirelessly to fulfill her duties. But, she would often notice strange occurrences throughout her youth that reminded her of these strange half-memories, like changing a bandit's hair yellow when she was the equivalent of 6 and her seeming ability to find items she needed at a whim, from scraps of food to books ( She always adored reading, teaching herself and others the ability through sheer determination, even if Renji took some prodding to do so ). But, they would remain fragmented pieces of the past that were left behind when she was adopted into the Kuchiki Clan. Until one day, she received a summons to her brother's quarters for an important meeting. The walk to his room was quiet, but her mind supplied a stream of terrible thoughts and anxieties until she opened his door and stood before him. But, beyond the normal terse exchanges, he simply presented her a….”gift”. From her departed sister, Hisana. Informing her that her sister had discovered it bound to a young Rukia and had kept it for future use ( what that meant was left unsaid ), again, refusing to meet her gaze, wordlessly dismissing her. Leaving Rukia without an explanation of what her late sister was thinking, but, there was a certain numbness to the whole exchange. She lived a life of ignorance and quiet resignation at this point, so what was one more mystery to the pile? Her sister essentially robbed a child, even if she did not know what lay bound in the slender parcel, branded with the Kuchiki Clan Crest, at the moment, she knew that blundering it was not something done without explanation. But, as she gazed at the slender wood package that held the gift, she again sheltered these thoughts, thanked her brother for his grace, and departed with the package to privately open the parcel, her brother did not often care for such things.
The Kuchiki manor was silent as it usually was even during the day, leaving her without reprieve from her whirling thoughts. She would hesitate upon entering her quarters and would simply stare at the package for a time. Why? She was used to such uncertainty at this point, a consistent feeling of inadequacy and ignorance had been a constant in her life, so the thought of understanding, in some form, gave her both comfort and dread in equal parts. She would stare at the object until, suddenly gripped by an unknown courage, she’d open the wooden box to reveal a, um, well, a wooden stick. Specifically a piece of Vine Wood, carved, and placed by her to be around 11 cm, roughly. She would stare and then stare some more until, belatedly, she took the object into her hands and studied. It was simple yet also elegantly made, with sloping patterns adorning its face, though there were noticeable chips and other such imperfections. Well used, but for what? She creased her brow in thought as she sat on her bed with the object between her hands until she thought to grip it and attempt…..something? She did not know what possessed her in that moment but upon taking the object in hand, she felt a steady warmth flow through her and guide her in a spiral motion. She saw the path, so she would venture down it. She visualized, she channeled and then she released. With a swift finish, Rukia watched in awe as a soft light emerged from the tip and danced gently in her darkened room. As the young lady Kuchiki was mystified by her first display of magic, she heard a faint voice echoing in the back of her mind, something she would add to her tapestry of faint vision and thoughts in due time.
“Well done Miss Granger, you’re going to be a brilliant witch”
It had taken some time to organize the funeral, many different people had to attend of course, stories and such needed to be conjured. It was never a simple path forward when a muggleborn dies, so much of their society was built on a separation between worlds, so much ignorance on so many different fronts that needed to be maneuvered through. Minerva often contemplated this fact, it was hard not to when a child too often came to her and asked why they were called names for being different. Ignorance lives in such separation and ignorance gives way to hate all too often. Such hatred killed many innocents for the crime of being themselves, for wanting to know the wonders of magic they all shared, including a darling young girl who simply wanted to protect her friend and whose wit led her to him, only to be struck down. The damnable tournament could not even be stopped then, the horror of the loss of not only Hermione Granger but also Cedric Diggory had done nothing but fuel the machine of gossip that controlled wizarding world media.
She had only recently returned to the school to help go over the end and beginning of next term because time was cruel and waited for no one. But, as she began to sit, she received a summons by the headmaster, which was not anything odd, he himself was taking the loss hard as well and asked to talk semi-regularly, it helped ease their troubled minds. Especially since they had both helped console the grieving Harry and Ron, who had sought them out after the tragedy, both having become near catatonic in the days before and leading up to the funeral, something that defined the summer, one that they dreamt would have been spent together as friends with one who was now lost. She sighed as she reached the headmasters office and opened to find a solemn looking Albus Dumbledore, brow creased in thought. Pleasantries were exchanged, candy was offered and then the discussions began:
“ I received a peculiar notice from Arthur some time ago ”, he began, “ it was an exchange between the Ministries of Japan and Britain regarding the usage of underage magic in a Japanese muggle city by the name of Karakura, which is apparently a hub of odd happenings, riveting really.”
She hummed in acknowledgement but perked an eyebrow to illustrate her confusion over the relevance of such exchanges. While a bit less common, interministry communication on such matters was banal and a tad mundane on its own, so what, pray tell, was different here.
He continued, “hmm, yes, well, during these discussions it was revealed that the young woman detected using magic was doing so with a wand not registered with the local ministry, no, rather, she herself was unaccounted for in her entirety.”, he said with a hint of dry humor, one betraying his lack of cheer, “She was not a Mahoutokoro student on an ill advised dalliance, which itself was startling given her perceived age, somewhere around 15 I believe, but also because she was not registered with the ministry at all. Nowhere in its library of individuals of any kind of background did this young woman appear.”
Minerva’s eyes steadily grew throughout the summary and she could not help herself from injecting in quickly, “I-I will say that this is unusual, I don’t believe that an unregistered Witch, or anyone really, has appeared for quite some time, such events would be tracked in some form unless hidden through considerate effort-wait, you noted cooperation between ministries, specifically for the matter of the wand”, her eyes widened even furthered in realization, “was it Hermi-Miss Granger’s, was it hers?”
As part of the tragedy months prior, Miss Granger’s Wand had seemingly vanished during the horrifying event and it became another part of the ordeal’s horrid tapestry. Mister Potter had especially taken the loss with anger, envisioning it being taken by one of Voldemort’s wretched followers as a trophy of the wicked deed, something that sat in the pits of all their stomachs. That they would deny her right to magic in a way, to deny her being a witch even in death, it gave the Professor of many years a rare feeling of smoldering rage. But, it would seem, something else might be at play, hopefully. Albus broke her stream of thoughts, “It would appear so, Mister Ollivander met with his his counterpart chosen by the Japanese Ministry, Yasutsuna if I recall, fine proprietor of cherry wood wands, and they cross references these photos of the girl to discern the wands identity,” the headmaster sled a collection of photographs towards Minerva, each one depicting a young woman with raven black hair as previously described firing spells at an unseen foe with obscene speed. This further complicated things since while an unregistered witch was already a rare sight, one skilled like this young lady was unheard of to her knowledge; Most cases of unregistered magicals were a result of affairs and such, things that would lead to a child growing up without receiving a proper education due to desire for silence on the matter. “The local authorities further elaborated that the area where she’s been sighted is notoriously hard to gauge. The Japanese Ministry has long dealt with areas of strange occurrences: Mass devastation without a mundane or magical cause, sightings of black figures that flicker in and out of view, and sects of strange magicals who deal in dark soul magics, or so it is described by the records I could procure on the matter.”
Minerva nodded, her mood noticeably numbed and took in the news. Her eyes ventured over the photos of the girl in question clad in muggle clothing and wondered if this girl could be some dark witch of a hidden sect. It felt absurd to imagine. She looked to Albus for a glimmer of understanding but found grim focus. “I’ve been in contact with Aurors and Cursebreakers of the Japanese Ministry who have had experiences with these “soul reavers” as they are known to them. Experiences are rather slim I’m afraid but contemporary and historical sources have shown them to be a constant fixture in their lands, often appearing in these nigh impenetrable areas of strange magic. Accounts vary but everything they are seen in action, they perform strange feats of soul tampering, with strange flickering shadows emerging from their bodies and seemingly being able to animate corpses with unknown potions and rituals, quite grim stuff.”
His words rang in her ears as she attempted to respond, “If we give some credence to these tales then, why and how does this girl possess Miss Granger's wand?”, her tone neutral but quivering with unsaid anxieties . “Well, that’s the conundrum, since these reavers seem to practice a strange and destructive form of wandless magic, known as the Demon’s Way, or Kidō, but not much of anything is known beyond its name, even less so on what they do with said magic. I combed over reports by a Cursebreaker who described them as binding flickering white “demons” to their service, some seem to believe they draw power from them along from souls they’ve bound to their whims. But, western necromancers do have usage for dead magicals wands, as we know all too well.” His voice was quiet and thunderous in equal measure, mirroring his colleagues' horror and anger. Western necromancy was a foul thing, exploiting “emotional tethers” to torture a body and or soul in servitude for nefarious ends with wands being one such item that held great “spiritual significance” and was thus exploited. “ The current hypothesis I’ve devised is that the young woman in question was contacted by a fellow in Voldemort's ranks and……I believe they seek to desecrate Miss Granger even in death.”
Silence reigned oppressively over office as it seemed to dim even further. Albus took the time to slide another photo of the girl towards her, one from a muggle school given the uniform and composition, along with a few others of different children and an older man. Minerva took the chance to study them and her stomach churned at the younger children being shown in such a conversation. Albus said, “Aurors tracked her movements to local muggle healer, where she seems to be residing for the time being, we-“ He steadied his breathing, “We suspect that she has them under her thrall in some fashion. During one of her displays of power authorities witnessed, she seemed to forcefully eject the older boy's soul, manipulating his body to some effect, beyond that, we do not know what to expect or believe.”
Minerva did not know what to do, what to even begin thinking to do, but as she stared at the face of the unknown girl, she suddenly became a fulcrum of all sorts of evils in her mind and Minerva shivered at the admission. She hated to think it but even if she loathed hurting a child, she refused to allow Miss Granger’s memory be besmirched, no matter what, if this unknown witch needed to be taken down, then she would, along with any dark figures who stand with her.