Title: They All Fall Down

Author: JadeOokami

Category: Harry Potter and D. Gray Man crossover

This will be largely from the Harry Potter perspective but it would help to be familiar with both worlds. There is also a lot of information about the Deathly Hallows book that is summarized in this story instead of gone through.

Genre: Action/Adventure, friendship

Summary: There was the softest of sounds from the window; He spun his head to look. "I did not expect to run into an exorcist here."

Timeline: Before/during the 7th Harry Potter book, and not long after General Cross disappears/dies/whatever. (SPOILERS during and after both of these)

Warnings!: Some language, Character deaths, Blood/gore

Updating schedule: This story is COMPLETE!

Disclaimer: I own neither D. Gray Man nor Harry Potter, though I wish I did.

Edit: This story has been completely rewritten from what used to be posted here. I kept the overarching plot points the same in order to focus largely on the actual writing, but there are a lot of differences.

And a note to anyone returning: There is a new ending! This has been rewritten with the DGM chapters that have been published until this point in mind. As such, the previous Epilogue that assumed something a little happier was scrapped completely. The entire chapter is brand new.

I hope you enjoy!

One week until Harry Potter's seventeenth birthday, between his uncle obsessively packing and unpacking his family's things, they received visitors.

"Make yourself scarce, boy," Vernon said. Petunia scuttled behind him, wringing her hands in her finely ironed dress, and Dudley trailed after them both. All of them wore their Sunday best. Nobody seemed surprised by the doorbell except Harry himself, but he had no idea who they could have invited over so soon to their evacuation.

It was the perfect time to strike. The wards around the house should still be up until his birthday but he couldn't squash a sense of foreboding. He'd been expecting something to go wrong ever since the plan had been decided on and he could hear Moody's voice in the back of his head – Constant vigilance! So instead of retreating up to his room, he went to kitchen to eavesdrop.

He heard the door open and loud greetings. There seemed to be a man and a woman, neither of which had a voice he recognized, but that didn't mean much.

"We cannot stay for more than some tea, but I just want to thank you for your invitation," a man said. He sounded middle-aged and laid-back. A boss, maybe, or a well to-do coworker. He didn't imagine Vernon had any friends.

"Your house is so clean! I just can't manage, and I don't have children! How do you do it?" a woman said. Their voices grew muffled and distant but Harry heard Petunia laugh and humbly accept.

Harry froze when his scar prickled. It was faint, almost an itch. He was tempted to say it was imagined; he was used to blazing agony, not this pinprick.

The wards were intact, he told himself. Nobody with malicious intent should be able to enter. He was probably just too anxious about his birthday and what would come after. Still, he pulled out Petunia's good china and made tea. It was better safe than sorry. He'd pop in under the guise of being a good nephew and back out again. If they were anyone nefarious, seeing Harry Potter in the flesh would probably be enough to reveal them – or so he hoped.

Vernon was the first to notice him step into the room, face scrunched as if he'd smelled something disgusting.

"Something wrong?" the man said.

"No, no, not at all!" Vernon's face smoothed and reddened. He avoided looking at Harry, pretending he wasn't there with the grace of nearly seventeen years of practice. Harry moved to begin passing out the cups.

The man was aristocratic, dressed in a suit that looked more expensive than any one of Vernon's paychecks. The woman was just as fine, but they had a certain similarity in their faces that made them look more like siblings than husband and wife.

"You never told me you had two sons! Such a cute boy, if a bit skinny," the woman said with a smile. She seemed kind enough, but when their gazes met, he had the same feeling he sometimes had when he looked into Dumbledore's eyes – as if they were looking right into his soul and knew with certainty if he were to lie. He quickly looked away, resisting the urge to scratch his prickling scar.

"He's not my son," Vernon was quick to say. "He's Petunia's nephew. Car accident, you know."

"How dreadful! And how kind of you!"

"Not at all."

Harry held his tray towards Dudley, then Vernon. Neither looked at him as they accepted.

"I heard about Mathew," Vernon continued. "Such a shame, a man like him. I'm sure the company with miss him."

"Oh, yes." The man nodded, taking a cup when his female companion passed one to him. "His death was completely unexpected. He'll be hard to replace."

Ah. That explained the visit. Vernon must have jumped on the chance to look good when a better position opened up, even if there was only one week left. Perhaps he hoped it would help him make up his mind.

"And just after the death of his wife." The woman sighed, tracing her finger around the rim of her china. "I talked to her once before but, to my shame, I didn't know her well. I get the feeling you might have gotten along, though, Petunia. You both have a passion for family."

Harry lingered at the end of the couch. They seemed like standard Muggles – wizards always seemed to have a hard time fitting in – but there was too much prickling in his scar to ignore. He couldn't tell if it was coincidence or something more, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could linger. His uncle was already sending him dirty, impatient looks.

"I believe they had a son about your age. In fact, if I remember right, you look similar." The woman beckoned Harry closer. He couldn't refuse without seeming strange so he went reluctantly, using the tray to hide the way he was fingering his wand. She stood and took his chin, tilting his head about like a different light might reveal some secret. "You are quite a handsome boy."

There was something about her gaze that he didn't like. He tried to gently extract himself from her grip only to find that he couldn't move a muscle.

It was like being Stunned. Frozen in place, not able to so much as wiggle his toe. Her eyes were dark pools that drew him in until it was all he could see.

They had to be Death Eaters after all. He'd been too confident in the wards.

"Something wrong?" Petunia said. Harry's tongue was as frozen as the rest of him no matter how hard he tried to warn them. Could she control his breathing? His chest constricted at the thought.

"Not at all," The woman said. "Everything is perfect."

She smiled, but it was different. There was a sinister gleam to her eyes, an unpleasant twist to her mouth. Stuck so close to her face, he began to see her irises glow and her skin pale to an ill grey. She had a sheen like metal, an oddly mechanical grin.

Vernon surged to his feet and bellowed, "What freakishness is-"

Harry didn't see it, but he heard Vernon crash to the floor. Petunia gave a shrill shriek, too terrified to do more than fall over herself.

"You're always too impatient, my dear," the man said with a deep sigh. "We've barely been here long enough to have tea put in our hands."

"I have waited long enough. Playing pretend is boring." The woman's hair stiffened into needles and her hands became big enough to wrap around Harry's waist almost completely. Her mouth stretched into a nightmarish slash, revealing a set of large, wicked teeth. "I'm starving."

The lights went out. Bulbs burst loudly, raining glass, and the room flooded with an unnatural darkness. The dim light from the front window reflected from her teeth as they came towards his face and he could do nothing but watch. He strained against the hold she had on him, willing himself to move.

He panicked. What kind of creature was she? She couldn't be human.

How had she gotten passed the wards? Was she a Death Eater or not? How could she hold him in a trance like this, how did he brake it, what –

The air was cut by a high-pitched whistling. The large double-window shattered inward with a great crash and the woman spun, breaking the connection. Free, Harry threw himself backwards as the light from the street lamps spilled in.

A streak of silver shot through the room and right through the creature's head, imbedding in the wall. Her body jerked with the force, mouth opening in a scream, and he threw his hands up when she exploded into flames. The heat stung his exposed skin.

When it faded, he lowered his arms and fixed his crooked glasses. Vernon was splayed out on the ground, eyes wide and sweating profusely. Petunia and Dudley knelt beside him, huddling partially over and behind him. The man was nowhere to be found.

There was the softest sound from the window; he spun his head to look. He found, much to his alarm, a figure cloaked in black crouching and balanced precariously on the sill, hood drawn up. They stood slowly, light from the outside a pale silhouette. Their head turned as if scanning the room, looking for something.

From under their hood came a red glow, accompanied by a low whirring noise like a machine; another one of those creatures? Harry went for his wand, tucked into his waistband, and began to back up.

The figure hopped from the sill and seemed to float to the ground. They were enveloped in a silver glow, lighting the entire room, and a bright cape materialized over his shoulders. Despite the glass from the broken window, they made not a single sound.

"I didn't expect to run into an exorcist here." The man's voice echoed around the room, deeper and more gravelly than before. Harry pressed his back against the wall, still kneeling, holding his wand out in front of him.

"Your time has run out, akuma," the silver cloaked figure said. His voice was male, but startlingly young. "I will cleanse your soul."

"I'm not so sure it's my time that's run out, Exorcist."

The air itself changed. The shadows shifted and moved as if alive. Behind his relatives, one section detached from the wall and began to form something solid, twin yellow orbs glowing from the dark. He cried out a warning, spell on his lips as he brought his wand up.

But then the silver stranger tensed and – vanished. A blur shot forward and stopped in front of the shadows, one long, sharp finger impaling it between the eyes.

"Rest in peace," they said. Their voice had a kind lilt as if they were smiling.

This creature didn't explode like its companion did, but faded away. The air shifted again, becoming lighter and easier to breath, but Harry was not reassured. He gripped his wand tighter; the attack had come so suddenly. They wouldn't catch him so easily again.

A deep, commanding voice from just behind him sent his heart into his throat. "Hurry it up, bean sprout. We don't have all day."

Harry spun on one heel, eyes wide. He hadn't heard anyone approach. In the dark, he couldn't make out their features too clearly but he could recognize a strong jaw, broad shoulders, and long hair. They carried something long and curved in one hand, too big to be a wand, and wore the same black cloak the first stranger wore.

"I refuse to acknowledge an idiot who refuses to use my real name," the first snapped. Their annoyance drained away between one word and the next, kneeling down to Vernon. "Are you alright?"

They reached out but Vernon slapped his hand away, fueled by horror. Dudley gasped and Harry recalled the last time they'd defied a wizard. Removing that pig tail had been expensive. But the stranger didn't pull out a wand; they just stood up, seemingly unaffected.

"Do they look alright?" The second said.

The first pulled down his hood, muscle in his jaw jumping. His hair was either light gray or white but not as fragile as an old man's. Whatever had given the red glow was gone; there were only two normal, pale eyes. One had been marked with a some kind of tattoo or scar in an unfamiliar pattern.

Harry jumped when the second man went to where a sword had buried in the wall. He grasped the hilt and, with one sharp tug, pulled it free. He wiped it on his cloak, leaving behind a streak of white drywall remains. So distracted by watching them, he missed the first one approach.

So much for not being caught so easily. He tried to bring his wand between them but his wrist was caught in an iron grip.

"Please don't," they said. "We're not your enemies."

Their hold ground his wrist too tightly. One twist and his bones would snap. Gritting his teeth, he gave a reluctant nod.

"My name is Allen Walker. How's your face?"

"My face?" He reached up with his free hand, startled, but pulled his fingers away with a hiss. The explosion must have singed him more than he'd realized. "I'll be fine. Mind explaining what's going on? What do you want?"

Allen opened his mouth and a spell collided with his shoulder, sending him flying across the room. Harry ducked a second spell with a gasp.

There was a Death Eater standing outside on the sidewalk, but it was what was behind the Death Eater that was alarming – a gaping mass of nothing. Everything beyond the street had been swallowed by the same darkness that had appeared with those creatures and he stifled a surge of anxiousness at the thought of more.

But from the side, out of his line of sight, came what looked like a giant hammer. It slammed into the wizard from behind and he could hear the collision even from inside his living room. The man skidded against the ground, pulling up grass, and then stopped moving. He did not stand.

"Kanda!" Allen called. The second stranger, Kanda, swept by Harry and momentarily blocked his sight of the outside. When he moved, there was another of them in the yard; hair redder than a Weasley, wearing an eyepatch and matching black cloak.

"This was a bad guy, right?" they yelled, heaving the hammer over his shoulder. It looked far too heavy to lift properly, but they carried it as if it were weightless. "Not, like, one of the kid's allies, right? Because I don't think he's getting up again!"

Compared to the strangers, Harry's footsteps were gunshots. He wasn't entirely sure they were human either. He drew up beside Kanda in front of the window.

"He wasn't any ally of mine," he said.

"Oh, good!" The redhead laughed, rolling the body over with a foot and then slinging it over his shoulder. "I was a little worried, there. Hey, Allen-"

"Stop," Allen said, appearing from behind. The other boy froze, one foot in the air. "Lavi, that's an akuma."

"Say what?!" The body hit the ground. If they weren't in pieces before, they were now. "Akuma can't do magic!"

"Said who?" Kanda snapped, looking for all the world bored of the situation. "Since when did you have everything figured out, rabbit?"

"It doesn't make any sense, does it?" Lavi faltered, nudging the body. "Can akuma fall unconscious? And I hit him pretty hard with my hammer, and he's… well, I don't know if he's alive, but he definitely didn't explode."

"I'm positive. Maybe it's the magic?" Allen said.

All three looked to Harry as if he had the answers. His eyes narrowed and he glare back. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said. "Or who you are."

"Of course he doesn't." Kanda grunted and looked away.

"Sorry, man, this is all pretty new," Lavi said. "The old man has a lot to answer for; this is nothing like the stuff I've seen."

Harry frowned. "Are you saying you're… Muggle?"

"Muggle?" Allen said, tilting his head.

"Wizard-speak for non-magical," Lavi said, tapping his temple. "Specifically for the Brits. Didn't you read anything Komui gave us? That's exactly what we are, if you want to be technical."

Muggles! Harry didn't believe it for a second but, before he could call their bluff, Allen's arm shoved him below the windowsill. It was like the ceiling had come crashing into his shoulders for all that he could fight it.

"Stay down!" Allen hissed. Kanda's legs disappeared as he vaulted through the window. Spells flew over the sill, dissipating against the furniture and walls. He heard shouting and fighting from outside.

Vernon appeared from behind the couch, shuffling backwards toward the doorway. He dragged Petunia from under her arms – Harry hadn't noticed her faint – while Dudley tried to carry her feet. Harry and Vernon locked eyes. This wasn't how he imagined their parting going, but he wasn't going to cry over it. He motioned frantically for them to go.

It was the last time he saw his mother's family.

An explosion rocked the ground. Harry twisted and peeked over the edge.

It was pure chaos. Creatures he'd never seen before floated in his yard, great circles with protruding gun barrels. A smoking crater had ruined the driveway. Kanda and Lavi were in the middle, slashing and smashing. They moved like a bad action film, jumping far too high and pulling stunts that didn't seem possible in a real fight. They looked choreographed, too smooth and too practiced.

"There's supposed to be protective spells around this place!" Harry said, looking into the eternal darkness stretching around them. "There's no way they should have fallen yet!"

"Akuma aren't people, they're machines," Allen said. "Perhaps the magic doesn't work the same?"

Harry snorted. It would figure! Wizards never would have considered using a Muggle invention to get to him – except, here they were. Voldemort must have been desperate to get to Harry before his birthday. Before he went into hiding.

"There are supposed to be people of your kind watching you, aren't there?" Allen said. "Maybe they'll notice something wrong."

"Even if they do, who knows how long it'll take for them to break this shield," Harry said. "I've never seen magic like this. Or like you, or your creatures, your 'akuma'."

"The barrier might be magic but nothing else is, I promise you," Allen said with a smile. "And the barrier is the only part you need to worry about. Leave the akuma to us."

Somehow, Harry was still not reassured.