You know I noticed something: Harry is always the child of either one of the Shinigami (or adopted by one of the Shinigami) or in a relationship with Sebastian... So I wondered: what if Sebastian was Harry's father?
Hence I wrote this :P

This is kind of the unofficial sequel of my story 'Fallen'. It can be read without reading that one though...

Summary: You have the stories in which one of the Shinigami's (Undertaker most of the time) adopt Harry, train him and help him defeat Voldemort. What would happen if Sebastian was Harry's father?

Warnings: Mentioning of rape...

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to either Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) or Harry Potter.

Enjoy!

"I seem to have finally found you, my little demon," a soft, smooth baritone almost cooed and Harry whirled around as fast as he could while making sure that he didn't lose Riddle out of his line of sight. Luckily, Riddle seemed to have decided that the newcomer was more dangerous than a twelve year old boy without a wand and he too had turned around to face the voice, his wand trained into the direction the voice had come from.

Harry waited with bated breath and tensed muscles as the sound of footsteps neared them. His eyes flicked towards Riddle. Did he know what was happening? The way he acted made him doubt that, but still one could never be too sure.
"Show yourself," Riddle commanded after a couple of seconds in which the person had yet to show himself.
"Does the little demon want me to show myself?" the voice asked, clearly amused by the situation.
"I order you to show yourself," Riddle nearly hissed as his eyes narrowed and Harry's wand shot green sparks thanks to his rage. Harry couldn't help but gulp as he noticed that the Slytherin's eyes had started to turn red.
"I don't believe I was talking to you," a smirk was clearly heard in the intonation when the voice answered.

Harry blinked as the meaning of the man's – because it sounded as a man – words became clear to him.
"Potter wants you to show yourself," Riddle's voice had gained an annoyed and high pitched quality to it, the latter similar to how Voldemort had sounded when he had met him last year.
Harry just wished he could disappear. Preferably with a living and not possessed Ginny in tow.
"Ah, ah," the voice sounded again, "I didn't hear him say that."

"Come out now or I will kill you," Riddle said clearly angry before a dark smirk made his way onto his face, "or maybe I should just kill Potter. Would that make you come out of your hiding place, hm?"
"I would like to see you try," the voice sounded after a couple of seconds. It still contained that amused tone but it had gained a certain quality that Harry recognized as one that meant that the speaker knew something they didn't. He just hoped that whatever the man knew it didn't end up with him wounded – or dead.

Riddle snarled at the shadows before he trained the wand once again on Harry.
"Last chance," he stated as the tip of the wand turned green.
"Do you want me to show myself, my little demon?" the voice asked curiously. It took Harry a couple of seconds before he realised that both men were waiting for his answer – which was slightly uncharacteristic from what he knew about Voldemort.
"Er… yes?" he finally managed to say, though his voice sounded feeble and weak to his own ears.

The soft sound of shoes on stone sounded again and a tall – he easily reached the 1 meter 85 – and thin man dressed in the classic uniform of a butler stepped out of the shadows. His hair was as black as the shadows behind him and hung in slight disarray towards his shoulders. His eyes were the same bloody red as Tom Riddle sported on the moment but his seemed to glow and had a slight diabolic gleam to them. The fact that his pupils were slit didn't really help either. His shoes were neatly polished and gleamed and his hands were covered by white gloves.
"As my little demon wishes," he finally purred as he stopped a couple of meters away from them.

Riddle once again trained his wand on the man, "who are you and how did you get in here?"
The man smirked, "Me? I'm just one hell of a butler."

It was after his words that time seemed to get fast paced. Riddle had fired some kind of green spell in the general direction of the newcomer while the newcomer had somehow dived towards Riddle while dogging the spell – throwing something at the other while he dogged in a show of superior mobility. Harry sincerely doubted that the man was human.
The only thing Harry could actually see from the very short and very violent fight that followed was the flashes of light that Riddle kept firing at the stranger and the black blur that the other man had become.

The fight was over in a little under twenty seconds and when the dust had settled and Harry's eyes had finally readjusted to the low light – the flashes of the spells had given him sunspots – all that was left of Riddle was a little black book, ripped to pieces and oozing ink.

The stranger dusted his clothing of – some ink had splattered on his shoes but he didn't seem to care – as he stared down on the book.
Harry shifted slightly and the stranger's attention snapped towards him. He couldn't help but freeze under those terrifying red eyes – they frightened him more than Voldemort's ever had – as they studied him to check... something he wasn't quite sure about.

Finally after a couple of minutes of looking him over the other opened his mouth, "you were quite the surprise, my little demon."
Harry blinked at him, still too surprised by the turn of events and too weary and frightened to do much more than study the man for eventual attacks.

The first thing he noticed was that the man's eyes had darkened to a dark red – almost brown – colour and that his pupils had become round. Not that that helped him calm down.
The second thing he noticed was that the man was relaxed and that he kept his hands visible as if to show that he was not a threat. Harry didn't quite believe the posture, not after he had seen the man move meters in a blink of an eye.

The man took a couple of steps forward but stopped as he noticed the almost rabbit-like actions – Harry had been about ready to bolt as soon as the man had started to move – of the young boy in front of him.
"I'm not going to hurt you," the man stated amused but Harry kept watching him wearily.

Another silence fell, only broken by the soft dripping of the water in the Chamber and Harry's fast, shallow breaths as he kept his attention on the man. The other just watched him, completely amused by him though there was something else in his eyes too. Something Harry didn't even try to figure out.

The silence was finally broken by the sound of Ginny regaining her consciousness.
"It seems I'll be leaving you at this point," the stranger said casually, "but know this: now that I've found you I won't lose sight of you again!"
He seemed to fade away before his very eyes as the man stepped closer to the shadows, "I'll be watching you."
Harry stumbled back as those words only to whirl around at the sound of someone moving behind him.
He breathed out a sigh of relieve as he noticed that it was just Ginny.

The man was gone when he turned around again.

oOoOoOo

It was a couple of years later that the man reappeared. Or maybe 'showed himself again' was a better term, as Harry had always felt as if he was being watched ever since the man had first appeared to him in the Chamber of Secrets.

It had been a couple of minutes after Voldemort's resurrection and he had been lecturing his followers and taunting Harry when a particularly loud caw of a crow had been followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground just behind the gravestone Harry was tied to.

Voldemort fell silent and turned towards the gravestone – and thus Harry, but he ignored him – as he ordered sharply in his high, cruel voice, "Crabbe, take a look."
One of the Death Eaters bowed lowly before he made his way over towards Harry and started to circle around the gravestone. It didn't take long before he had disappeared completely out of Harry's line of sight.

Everything was silent except for the soft breathing of the people in the graveyard and the sound of Crabbe's heavy footsteps and his feet disturbing the dead leaves on the ground.
It was a couple of minutes later that the man returned to his place in the circle, unharmed and empty-handed.

Voldemort took this as a sign that there was nothing out of the ordinary and that they were alone – well, except for the small party around him and Harry – and continued with his speech about his own greatness.
It wasn't long after that, that he turned towards Harry and Harry felt a spike of pain shoot through him originating from his already burning scar.
"Harry Potter," he said softly as he made his way over towards the boy, "only known survivor of the Killing Curse."
Silence fell as he stopped right in front of him, not that Harry could see him very well through his pain blurred vision.

"Why did you survive when no one has before? That question kept me busy all the time when I was just a spirit," Voldemort continued, "but the answer is so simple. It's all thanks to the sacrifice of your mudblood mother."
The Death Eaters burst out in loud, vindictive laughter but Harry ignored them all as he tried to glare towards the blurry blob than he knew to be Voldemort.
"And now I've the very same blood that contains the sacrifice flowing through me," Voldemort stated darkly amused as soon as the Death Eaters had fallen silent, "which means that I should be able to do this."
As soon as he was finished with speaking he lifted his hand and deftly pressed a single finger against Harry's forehead.

Harry's head felt as if it was about to burst open as the pain flashed through him and his vision turned completely black. But he was aware enough to vaguely hear the high laughter of Voldemort and the cruel laughter of the Death Eaters.
And he was most definitely aware enough to hear the soft, "not quite." which – even though it was softly spoken – seemed to be heard by everyone present.
The laughter died down almost immediately.

Voldemort withdrew his finger from his forehead, which caused the pain to lessen and as the pain slowly lessened it finally clicked inside Harry where he had heard that voice before.
He closed his eyes as the memories of that evening came back to him and he shuddered. He hasn't felt safe ever since he had met the man he had met that day.

"Show yourself," Voldemort snarled angrily as he drew his wand and pointed it towards the direction the voice came from.
"This brings back memories," the voice commented lightly and it sounded as if it was moving, "does the little demon want me to show myself?"
A smirk could be heard in the voice and Voldemort shot some kind of red spell towards the last location of the voice.
"Hm, missed me," the voice said amused, "want to try again?"
"I want you to show yourself," the snakelike man hissed.
"Ah, but it doesn't matter to me as to what you want," the man said, "I only care about what my little demon wants. But seeing as he is a bit tied up… very well, I'll show myself."

And just like two years ago he appeared out of the shadows, though this time the shadow was cast by a large tombstone. The man hadn't changed a bit. His hair was the same length, his cloths seemed to be the same and his eyes, while not the frightening red with the slit pupils, had the same diabolic gleam in them.
All wands were trained upon him the moment he had appeared but he still made his way over towards the small group.
"I suggest you stop and explain why you are here," Voldemort stated neutrally.
The man stopped behind one of the lower gravestones, about ten meter from the Death Eaters.
"Why I am here?" the man asked as he cocked his head slightly, closed one of his eyes and placed a finger against his lips, "the 'why' is actually chained to a gravestone."
Voldemort turned towards Harry, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"Are you here to free him?" he finally asked as he turned his attention back towards the stranger.
"Now why would you think that?" the man asked darkly amused as he started to walk again and rounded the low gravestone until he stood in front of the small group.
"Stop, or I will kill him," Voldemort threatened.
"You will try," the other said, a dark smirk curling his lips.

Voldemort snarled at him – a crazed gleam in his eyes – before he turned back to Harry, "Avada Kedavra!"
Harry eyes widened as the green beam left the wand and made its way over towards him. There was no way he could escape it when he was chained to a gravestone but he wiggled in an attempt to get loose anyway.

Suddenly a black blur made its way over towards him and the spell – which should have hit him – hit the stranger whom had dived in front of him.
Harry expected the man to drop dead as soon as he had realised the Killing Curse had hit the other but the man remained standing in front of him, alive.
"Demon," Voldemort hissed sharply and he barred his teeth.

Harry stiffened slightly at the term as the many stories he had been told about the inhabitants of Hell sprung forth in his mind, not one of them positive or good. The worst thing was that his aunt and uncle – who weren't even that religious – always told him that he would be going to Hell after he died and that the demons would enjoy torturing him.

"Why does one of the darkest creatures to ever roam Earth defend a light wizard?" Voldemort asked and Harry could hear the curiosity in his voice. It seemed that the Dark Lord had relaxed after his initial shock, though his wand was still pointed towards the black-clad creature in front of him.
"He is mine," the man – demon – drawled silkily, "and what kind of butler would I be if I couldn't even defend what belongs to me?"
Voldemort stared nonplussed at him, "you made a contract with him?"
Harry couldn't see the demon's face but the fact that the Death Eaters he could see twitched and flinched said enough.
"Not quite," the demon said mockingly though the amusement had returned, "want to guess again?"
"So you're not collared," Voldemort murmured pensively, "but you still defend a human."

The demon turned around until he came face to face with Harry, his back turned towards Voldemort and the Death Eaters.
"Let's continue this in a more… comfortable place, shall we?" the demon murmured and, with a flick of his hand, the ropes around Harry disappeared.
Harry felt himself fall forward as the ropes supporting him suddenly disappeared and his leg gave out underneath him. Just as sudden as the ropes had disappeared did he find himself bridal style in the arms of the demon.

Harry started to squirm immediately but the demon just tightened his grip on him and forced his head in the crook of his neck. This only made Harry squirm harder but - as he was already weak and sore thanks to the spider, the still oozing wound on his arm, Voldemort touching his scar, the fact that he been tied to a gravestone and the magic he had had to use - his movements became sluggish and weak rather quickly. After a couple of seconds he stopped his fighting and relaxed unwillingly back into the tight hold. His eyes closed not long after that.

"Where is your base of operation?" the demon asked Voldemort as soon as Harry lay almost limp in his arms.
"The mansion," Voldemort answered and even though he was tired Harry still heard the irritated and angry tones in his voice.

The demon started to move, mindful of his precious burden and Harry could hear the footsteps of the men following them.
The smooth swaying of the demon's walk combined with the soft lull of the background noises and his tiredness soon made him doze away, even though he knew that that was the worst thing which could happen.

oOoOoOo

Voldemort watched silently as the demon – he hadn't asked his name and he doubted that he would get the being's real name if he did – placed the sleeping brat-who-wouldn't-die down on one of the many, dusty couches the parlour contained before he took one of the blankets and tugged him in.
It was strange to see a creature as dangerous as a demon care for such a slip of a boy, especially because he seemed to care genuinely for the child. Voldemort wondered what kind of demon this one was: the born kind of the fallen kind.

He had sent the Death Eaters away as they were not useful on the moment. He was more than aware that the demon could kill him even when he did have his followers around him and he couldn't give them their orders when the Potter boy was still around.

"You mentioned that he belongs to you," Voldemort stated, genuinely curious, as soon as the demon had seated himself gracefully next to the sleeping child, "but you aren't contracted to him. So how does he belong to you?"
The demon chuckled amused, "humans can belong to us in multiple ways. When we are collared as you call it, their soul belongs to us. Care to guess for the other ways they can belong to us?"
Voldemort frowned at him as he sunk into his thoughts and memories. He could admit to himself that he didn't know a lot about demons but he was planning on rectifying that now that he had met one.
"I would say 'body, mind and soul'," he murmured pensively.
"You missed one," the demon said and he bared his sharp teeth in a grin before he added, "he is mine by blood."

He blinked at him, honestly surprised by the answer, "how can he belong to you by blood?"
"I'm only telling you this because I do not want to kill you. You and your followers amuse me after all," the demon smirked darkly, "my last contractor was a witch. A jealous witch who wanted to marry the man of her dreams: James Potter."
"You were contracted to Lily Potter?" Voldemort gaped at him.
"No, I wasn't contracted to Lily Potter," the demon told him, "it doesn't matter who I was contracted to, all that is important is that she ordered me to split up James and Lily Potter in such a way that he would never want her back. On her orders I tried a lot of things. Nothing worked so the witch ordered me to do the one thing which would break up any marriage. She ordered me to get her pregnant."

"You raped her," he deadpanned.
The demon threw his head back and laughed, "would that surprise you?"
"No," Voldemort admitted, "it really wouldn't surprise me."
"But no, I didn't rape her," the creature told him, "we demons are seductive creatures, not unlike your vampires. It wasn't hard to convince her to have sex with me – and to continue with having sex with me – until I got her pregnant."

"But Potter didn't divorce her," Voldemort told him confused.
"He didn't," the demon said with a slightly puzzled look, "she told him of the fact that she had slept with me and she told him that she was pregnant with my child – though she didn't know who or what I was. But while he didn't like it, he accepted her apologizes and when my little demon was born he loved him like he was his own child."

Voldemort stared at the boy resting peacefully, "so he is part demon."
The demon hummed lightly in response.
"Why do you care for him?" Voldemort asked genuine curious, "aren't demons supposed to be cold, cruel beings?"
"We rarely procreate," the demon told him, "so every child we get is precious to us."

"Why are you telling me this?" Voldemort asked, suddenly suspicious. He had acted terribly out of character for him when he had allowed the demon in the mansion and he wanted to know why the demon had told him all this. Because there had to be a point somewhere.
"Like I said: I don't want to kill you, you are amusing," the demon stated as the dark smirk returned and his eyes turned to the bloody red, slit eyes that had given away what he was, "but, I'll have to if you keep threatening my child."
"You want me to stop trying to kill him," Voldemort hissed and he narrowed his eyes, "you ask of me to let the one person who can vanquish me live."
"I ask nothing of you," the demon growled lowly and Voldemort shrank back slightly as the room darkened and black feathers started to descent from above, "you have a choice: either you stop coming after him or you die."
"I'll stop hunting him," Voldemort conceded, aware that the demon would kill him if he didn't stop hunting the boy.

The demon bared his teeth at him in a mockery of a smile, "good."
He rose from the couch and gathered the boy in his arms before he stalked away through the door without looking back.
"Does he know?" Voldemort called after him, aware that the demon would hear him.
The demon stopped and turned slightly towards him, "no, he does not know."

Voldemort watched pensively as the demon turned back around and continued walking. He would have to change his plans.

I hope you guys enjoyed this story!

I might add another chapter in which Harry finds out about the fact that Sebastian is his father... but that will be once I feel like writing it and/or if you guys like this story...

Reviews are very much appreciated,
~Marwana