Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso, Harry Potter to JK Rowling.

This unlikely crossover idea, Cain Kruspe and the words are mine though so please don't take them.

This story has nothing to do with my previous KS/HP crossover (which I, nevertheless, recommend to you ;) )

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Harry Potter and a dance with the devil

Chapter 1: The circle of black magic

Lucius Malfoy was not a nice man by far, but even his conscience was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable after the "branding" of the boy that the Dark Lord has chosen. He did not question his Lord's choices, even when the hairs on his neck stood when he listened to the latest plan. But the Dark Lord chose him to command this plan and it was a prestigious job – everything that the Dark Lord considered important made for a prestigious job.

Snape hasn't been so happy when it was him, Lucius Malfoy, who was chosen for this task.

Still – the pain-filled screaming made him wake up, sweating, a couple of nights already. For an asthmatic kid, the boy sure had lungs to scream and Lucius was rather glad that he wasn't required to participate or even attend to the other "preparations". It was enough for him to know that Fenrir Greyback enjoyed the preparations of the children. He was also glad that only a few kids needed to be branded, as it was one procedure he needed to lead. The Dark Lord trusted only him with the ancient scripts.

All in all, Lucius was doing quite well for a person charged with torturing and, eventually, killing a bunch of innocent children. He consoled himself that most were Muggle anyway – hardly anything to be bothered with. There was only one heir to an old, powerful wizarding family.

Better him than my own son – he thought and shook his head to clear the troubling thoughts.

There was the added guilt coming from the fact that his wife, the beautiful Narcissa, was the best friend of the boy's aunt. The latter was in a poor shape ever since the fire that consumed the Phantomhive mansion, taking Earl Phantomhive and his fragile wife and the sister of his wife's friend, with it. The body of their son, the shy, little Ciel, was never found and Lucius knew that Angelina Durless clang to the hope of finding the boy alive. That hope was diminishing with each passing day that decreased the chances of a helpless child surviving Merlin knew where.

It was even worse that Narcissa started talking about Ciel as well, insisting that Lucius uses his influences in the Ministry to put more Aurors in the search for the boy. She didn't know that her husband knew perfectly well where the boy was kept and had no intention to have the boy found. At least not before Lucius got what he wanted from the boy.

In any case – everything would be over tonight – he thought as he pulled on his long, black cape with a deep hood and secured a white mask over his face. With firm and fast steps, he crossed the mansion, hoping that he wouldn't meet Narcissa or Angelina. The latter came to cry again because her father, the old Duke Durless, was weak and she was afraid that he'd die soon and leave her the sole heir to the name of Durless.

He smirked under the mask – Angelina would finally have to stop all her flirting and take a reasonable decision regarding marriage. She would have to choose wisely to not bring the Dark Lord's wrath upon her. If she only knew why the Phantomhives were murdered… Lucius supposed that the old Duke knew and it was that knowledge that was killing him slowly, eating him day by day. The knowledge that his unmarred left forearm was the reason of the death of her beloved daughter and the disappearance of his little treasure. Yes, Ciel Phantomhive would pay a terrible price for his grandfather's pride.

He swept out of the house and Disappearated to a small dead alley in London, right next to a disintegrating door. Checking that nobody was around, he opened the door and went down the stairs that awaited him on the other side. The stairs led him to another door, this time more beautiful and well kept, and the door opened into a large chamber, lit up by countless candles.

Most of the Deatheaters that the Dark Lord lent him to fulfil the task were already there, waiting with some impatience. The sacrificial table was prepared and scrubbed clean after their rehearsal the day before. Four, large candles were placed in the corners of the table, ensuring that it was the brightest spot of the room.

To the side, in a semi-shadow, three cages were placed. Two were filled with Muggle kids, while the middle one held only the Phantomhive boy. Lucius wordlessly cast a voice-changing charm on himself. He didn't need the boy identifying him in case he somehow managed to survive the night.

Ciel Phantomhive was staring at him with huge eyes and Lucius suddenly regretted pulling out his wand. He wasn't sure where the feeling came from – after all the boy wouldn't live to tell the tale. He smirked under the mask and motioned for his companions to form a circle around the table. They did so without the smallest hesitation. Whether they knew what exactly was going to happen he didn't know and he wasn't really interested. He was more worried about the look in little Phantomhive's eyes – could the child know what was going to happen?

Surely his father wouldn't let him in on knowledge like that. Right?

At his gesture, the first sacrificial lamb – a Muggle girl, was dragged out of her cage. She didn't struggle. She merely gasped when a sharp blade ended her life. Some other children screamed in terror and Lucius risked a glance at the cages.

Panic and terror now filled the eyes of all, including Phantomhive and, with some satisfaction, Lucius motioned for the next child to be brought.

And then – before he managed to start an incantation to call the ungodly beaing – a chill rushed through the room. A wave of whispers rolled along the circle of Deatheaters as the candles flickered.

In the corner, a shadow thickened – a shapeless flame with two, blood-red, shining eyes.

Lucius Malfoy stood frozen, watching how the shadow floated across the room, the red eyes looking at everybody in turns until they stopped. He followed the inhuman gaze and saw Ciel Phantomhive – a terrified boy who was nevertheless radiating desperate determination. Did that boy call a demon?

Shock blurred his vision and then there was an explosion of light and a familiar scream. Afterwards there was darkness.