After Transfiguration Class
Transfiguration class ended in the usual way—books closed, supplies put into bags, students moved to the door with the energy of people ready for lunch.
Terry was already very enthusiastic talking about something regarding the spell they just learned to Michael as they walked out. Michael listened in his calm way—nodding occasionally, correcting with a single sentence that made Terry stop talking for a moment then continue with a more accurate version.
Kenzo walked behind them. Until a footstep stopped right at his side.
"Otsutsuki."
Kenzo turned.
Daphne Greengrass stood in her usual way—back straight, controlled expression, a way that showed nothing on the surface. But there was something small in the way she stood that was different from the way she usually stood in the corridor—slightly less certain, like someone who had decided something but was still weighing the words that would be used.
"May I ask for a moment of your time?" Daphne asked. "After this."
Kenzo stared at her for a moment.
"Yes," Kenzo answered.
He turned to Terry and Michael who had turned around realizing Kenzo was not following them. "You two go to the Great Hall first. I will catch up."
Terry glanced at Daphne, then glanced at Kenzo, then opened his mouth.
Michael placed a hand on Terry's shoulder and pushed him slowly toward the corridor. "Let's go."
"But—"
"Let's go, Terry."
Terry walked with the way of someone who really wanted to look back but was struggling hard not to do so.
Michael did not look back at all.
The corridor gradually became quiet.
Kenzo and Daphne stood on the side of the corridor that had been left by the flow of students. The sound of footsteps drifted away. The afternoon light entered from the window at the end of the corridor, creating long shadows on the stone floor.
Daphne did not speak immediately.
An unusual way for her—someone who always knew what first word should come out.
Kenzo waited.
"I read something about your family," Daphne said finally. Her voice was quiet, quieter than the way she usually spoke in class or in the corridor. "Quite a lot. From the sources I can still access."
"And?" Kenzo asked.
"And there is something I want to confirm directly." Daphne stared ahead for a moment before returning to Kenzo. "From a source more reliable than a book."
Kenzo nodded once—a way that gave space for her to continue.
Daphne took a very shallow breath. "Many old literatures call the Otsutsuki family with an unusual name. Not just as a powerful wizarding clan or a noble family." She paused for a moment. "They call them divine healers."
Kenzo did not move from his position.
"For all circles," Daphne continued. "Ordinary humans, wizards, mutants, other beings. There was no distinction. And from the records I could read—which are very limited because Britain's isolation during the Voldemort era erased much of that information—it was mentioned that the United States became the center of all that. The best hospitals for all types of beings. A staple for top-tier wizarding circles from all over the world." Daphne finally stared at Kenzo directly. "And rumors say access to that facility is not open to everyone. Only to loyal supporters of the Otsutsuki family."
Kenzo stared at Daphne for a few seconds.
"What you read is accurate," Kenzo answered finally. "America is indeed the place where various beings who obey our family's laws have the right to live and receive treatment. The facilities are not only for ordinary humans or wizards—all who meet the requirements have equal access."
Daphne nodded very slowly—the way of someone who just got confirmation of something she was long unsure of its truth.
But she did not continue immediately.
There was a long pause.
A pause different from the way Daphne Greengrass usually used pauses—not for dramatic effect, not to calculate something. More like someone who was gathering courage to say something that had been kept for a very long time.
"There is a reason I am asking this," Daphne said finally. Her voice was lower than before.
Kenzo waited.
"My sister." Daphne said it in a way that was very different from the way she said any word before tonight—more open, more unprotected. "Astoria. She is sick. It has been a long time. And the best healers in Britain have tried everything." A pause. "Nothing has worked."
The corridor was silent.
Daphne continued with a tone that she had already guarded to remain flat but did not entirely succeed. "I read about a disease that is similar in description to Astoria's condition in one of the old records about the Otsutsuki family. And in those records, it was mentioned that a condition like that was once cured." She stopped. "By your family."
Kenzo did not answer immediately.
"The problem is," Daphne continued—and this time there was something very clearly moving in the way of her voice, something that very rarely comes out of someone who has been long accustomed to showing nothing—"I know my family does not have that access. Britain was almost entirely marginalized by the Otsutsuki family because of the relationship with Voldemort. The Malfoy family even had almost all of their heritage seized." Her eyes met Kenzo's eyes. "My family almost joined Voldemort's faction—we stopped only because one of his followers attacked a loyal Otsutsuki supporter and my father decided that siding there was too dangerous. Not because of ideology." Daphne admitted that in a direct way that showed she was not here to give a better version of reality. "We are a neutral family, but not loyal supporters. And I do not have access to any information about that facility."
Kenzo stared at Daphne.
In front of him, the Slytherin girl who so far was known as someone who always knew how to keep the right distance from everything stood in a way different from all the ways she stood before.
More open.
More like someone who had decided that tonight she did not have the luxury to maintain that distance.
"Is there a requirement to get access?" Daphne asked quietly. "For someone who is not a loyal supporter. Even for someone from a family that has a history like mine."
Kenzo thought.
Not thinking about the answer—the answer was clear. More thinking about the way to deliver it honestly without making something sound easier than the reality.
"There is," Kenzo answered finally. "But my family's trust toward families in Britain is already very broken. Almost all. Rebuilding it requires something real—not just words or good intentions."
Daphne nodded slowly. "In other words, there needs to be something sacrificed to get that trust."
"Yes."
Daphne was silent for a few seconds.
Then said in a way she had clearly prepared before this conversation began.
"I can be the eyes and ears in Slytherin," Daphne said. "Monitoring the people there who still support Voldemort—who are still waiting for a chance. I know who they are. I know how they move." A short pause. "And with the help of my parents, I can monitor further into other families. A network that will not be seen from the outside."
Kenzo stared at her.
Daphne stared back in a way that did not look for approval—more like someone who had decided and only needed to know if the decision was accepted.
Kenzo went silent.
Not because of doubt about the value of what Daphne offered. Information from inside Slytherin—from someone with a family network and intelligence like Daphne—was already very clear in its value. And he knew that.
What made him silent was something else.
The way this girl stood in front of him and offered everything she could offer—not for herself, not for her family, not for any gain except one very simple reason.
Her sister.
Only her sister.
Kenzo raised his hand and flicked Daphne's forehead very slowly—a way that was more like a reflective gesture from someone who did not fully plan on doing it.
Daphne blinked.
"I am impressed," Kenzo said. The tone of his voice was different from the way he usually spoke—more direct, more not through any professional filter. "With someone who is willing to sacrifice anything for her sister." He stopped for a moment. "And it makes my position as an Otsutsuki family feel like a villain asking someone to sacrifice everything just for information."
Daphne opened her mouth.
But Kenzo continued before she could answer.
"This Christmas," Kenzo said, "I will visit your family. To see Astoria's condition directly and confirm what is actually happening." He stared at Daphne in a way that did not leave room for doubt. "But do not worry. There is no disease that cannot be cured by Otsutsuki."
Daphne did not move for two seconds.
Two seconds in which something she had already very long held back—since the first time she realized that Astoria's condition was not improving, since she started reading about the Otsutsuki family with a hope she guarded very carefully not to be too big, since she decided to approach Kenzo today in a way that was unusual for her—everything moved at once in a way she could not entirely control.
And before the part of her that had been very long trained to control everything could intervene—
Daphne hugged Kenzo.
Not in a way that was dramatic or excessive. The hug of someone who was very tired and had just received something she had long not allowed herself to hope for.
"Thank you," Daphne said. Very quietly. Her voice was different from all the ways she had ever said those two words before.
Kenzo patted her head slowly.
Then said with a tone that contained something close to amusement—a way that very rarely came out of him.
"Hmm. I just found out a Slytherin can cry." A short pause. "I thought they were only someone who is cunning."
Daphne snorted softly on his shoulder—a way that contained something between being offended and being embarrassed at the same time.
But she did not release her hug.
Kenzo allowed it.
In a corner of the corridor that was not visible to anyone, White Zetsu watched in a very quiet way. He did not open his notebook this time. He just existed—in a way that showed some moments are better not documented.
Black Zetsu in the darker shadow did not say anything.
But he also did not leave.
A few minutes later they walked together toward the Great Hall.
Daphne had returned to her usual way—back straight, controlled expression, steady steps. But there was something very small that was different from her usual way of walking. Lighter. Like someone who had just put something heavy in a safe place.
"I will tell my parents that you will visit during Christmas," Daphne said.
"Fine."
"They will be..." Daphne stopped for a moment looking for a word. "Shocked."
"Most likely."
"My father might not know how to behave."
"That's natural."
Daphne glanced at Kenzo from the corner of her eye. "Aren't you worried?"
"No."
"Why?"
Kenzo thought for a moment. "Because I am not coming to judge your family. I am coming to see your sister."
Daphne did not answer.
But the way she walked already very clearly showed that the answer was already very much enough.
Great Hall — Lunch
They entered the Great Hall from the same door but separated before actually entering—Daphne toward the Slytherin table, Kenzo toward the Ravenclaw table.
The usual way.
But inside the Great Hall which was already crowded with the sound of lunch, several things happened almost simultaneously.
Daphne took her seat at the Slytherin table.
And immediately felt something.
A certain way that made the hair on the neck stand up a bit—not a threat, not danger. More like the way someone feels that there is a very intense gaze directed at them from an angle that is not immediately visible.
She scanned the room in a very neat way—not conspicuous, not looking like she was searching for something.
And found it.
At the Gryffindor table, Hermione Granger sat with a book in front of her—open but not read. Her eyes moved very slowly from the page toward Daphne, then toward Kenzo who had just sat at the Ravenclaw table, then back to the book page.
In less than three seconds.
A very controlled way.
But Daphne Greengrass was already very trained to read things that do not want to be seen, and what she just read from those three seconds was already very clear although very small.
Hermione Granger was not happy with the way Kenzo and Daphne entered the Great Hall at the same time.
Daphne took her spoon and started eating in a way that did not show anything on the surface.
But inside there was something very small moving—something close to amused, though not big enough to be called that.
Pansy beside her whispered something about the afternoon schedule. Daphne answered with one sentence. The conversation continued in a way that did not require more than a small part of her attention.
Because the other part was still watching.
Hermione flipped the page of her book.
With a way that was too neat for someone who had just actually read it.
At the Ravenclaw table, Kenzo sat in his usual position.
Terry was already very enthusiastic welcoming him in a way that showed he had already been holding back many questions since earlier.
"So," Terry said.
"No," Kenzo said before Terry could finish anything.
Terry closed his mouth.
Michael sipped his tea in a very calm way.
Kenzo took his food.
At the farther end of the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang had already arrived earlier than usual and had already taken a sitting position that—if watched closely—was a bit more toward the middle of the table than the usual position which was more at the end.
A position that gave a better viewpoint to the part of the table where Kenzo usually sat.
Cho opened her notebook in a very neat way.
And did not write anything in it.
Marietta beside her glanced at Cho's sitting position, then glanced toward Kenzo, then back to Cho with an expression that was very clear although very small.
Cho did not stare toward Marietta.
But the way she held the pen slightly tighter than necessary was already very much enough as an answer.
Marietta nodded very slowly to herself.
Yes. Today is indeed different.
And it was indeed different—because without the jutsu, with the daylight of the Great Hall entering from high windows touching Kenzo's face in a way that could not be obtained under any artificial lighting, everything Marietta and Cho had ever read about the Otsutsuki family in old literature was already very much confirmed in a way that did not need words.
Marietta opened her notebook—not to record lessons.
Writing one small sentence in the corner of the page.
There are no words enough. The old writers were right.
Then closing it.
At the Gryffindor table, Hermione flipped the page of her book for the third time in five minutes.
Harry beside her glanced at the page that had just been flipped—the exact same page as the page five minutes ago.
He chose not to comment.
Ron on the other side of Harry whispered. "Why does Hermione keep flipping the same page over and over?"
"Quiet, Ron," whispered Harry.
"I just—"
"Quiet."
Ron closed his mouth and returned to his food in the way of someone who did not fully understand the situation but had already learned enough to know when to stop asking.
Kenzo ate in the usual way.
Without paying attention to the gazes from various directions.
Or more accurately—noticing all of them in a way that did not show he was noticing.
In the shadow that was not visible to anyone, White Zetsu wrote in his notebook in a way that very much enjoyed his work.
Great Hall today: one person who just got hope for her sister, one person flipping the same page three times, one person sitting five meters closer than usual, and one person nodding to herself because of a confirmation that did not need to be spoken.
Subject Kenzo Otsutsuki eats lunch calmly in the middle of all that. As usual.
White Zetsu closed his book in a very satisfied way.