Yes, it's another ___-is-Harry. No sequels for this one, simply a 'fun' one-shot that has been bouncing around in my head since fall semester. I've tried to edit it myself, but it is probably riddled with errors and the flow could probably use work. :/ That's what happens when you write outside of your Beta's fandoms. Feel free to point them out and I'll try to have it fixed when I (eventually) repost it.

Rating for language, a little violence, implied torture, and a few dark thoughts. Nothing too horrible (especially if you have read Kuroshitsuji).

Warnings: Possibly a little confusing, I like to try and heighten the mystery but sometimes I just assume that everyone is as familiar with both fandoms as I am. PM me for explanations if you need them (I'll try to edit them in as well). MINOR Harry/Luna, simply because he needed a blond date and my friend picked her over Hannah. If you don't like that, replace Luna's name with Hannah's and Ravenclaw with Hufflepuff. It's mentioned all of three times.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor Kuroshitsuji. If I did, things would have turned out much differently. I don't even own a portion of this dialog, having taken it directly from both the manga or Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. So anything you recognize, I don't own.

SPOILERS! For Kuroshitsuji through Chapter 12 (possibly up to 38, but nothing too noticeable) and Harry Potter 1-5 (if only because you have to know who Luna is).

A Life in Flux

By: Nenagh24

– Evolution –

When asked later Harry's family would swear it was a gradual thing, but no one really knows for sure. The simple fact that the Dursleys didn't know their nephew in the first place threw a shadow on all of their accounts. But no matter what had really occurred, when the Weasleys arrived on that Sunday in August it seemed as though they were meeting a new person.

After all of that talk about locking the poor boy up before his second year, Arthur had been expecting a very different family dynamic than the one he saw as he stumbled out of the now cleared fireplace. The three strangers sat stiffly on their now white furniture, each pair of lips drawn together; one pursed in distaste, another stifling anger as his face grew purple under the dust, and the last thinned in fear. Yet even as he apologized and rambled on, not one of them uttered a word as their eyes darted from the destruction to the family that caused it to the doorway and back.

"It's a bit scary, don't you think?" one of the twins asked him, looking slightly disquieted himself. His brother looked no better as he commented, "Like statues, they are."

"It may do you both some good to learn a little from them," their father commented, unamused by their teasing no matter how unusual he found the family's behavior himself. Maybe this was normal for most muggle families?

Ron snickered at the looks on his older brothers made faces at the very idea of being as silent as statues before asking the question on everyone's mind, "So, where's Harry?"

"Right here," came a cool voice from the doorway. Not one red-head could keep their jaw from falling open as they looked to the figure standing there, leaning calmly on a cane. Harry bore their shocked inspections easily, looking almost bored as they took in how messy black hair had been replaced by a smooth dark gray and at least one of his eyes had gained an almost aqua hue, the other covered by an eye patch and hair from his fringe.

But even bored he stood more regally then he ever had before, his once slouching shoulders now sitting square as he raised a brow at their continued silence. "Shall we go?" Ron attempted to swallow his jealousy, he even sounded richer now. His struggles with his errant emotions went unnoticed even as his brothers got wrapped up in teasing their brother's best friend over this new-found posh demeanor that he had gained over the summer. After bantering with him for a moment, they then grabbed his trunk and, without having to be asked, walked it to and through the fire as if it was the most natural thing to help their brother's best friend with any heavy lifting.

As they made their way back through the fireplace, they left the still eerily quiet and unknowingly seething muggles behind them. Around the corner, a figure stood with his back against the adjoining wall. His polite smile never left his face as he listened to the ruckus in the next room, even after a century had passed his master still knew how to cause a stir.

– Family –

The child no more than three, if that, sat happily on a plush rug and jabbered on happily as he played with the deceptively simple toys scattered around him. A man and woman, obviously his parents smiled and 'played' along with him as they listened to his almost nonsensical mish-mash of words. They seemed quite content to let this continue for the next while, but the fun was cut short along with the child's words.

Coughing was not a new thing for the child, but they had hoped that the sickness had finally passed. Quickly moving to her son's side, the woman picked him up and attempted to sooth him even as her husband shouted for the medicine that would sedate the child if they couldn't halt this fit fast enough.

The coughs were never ending, pierced only by the small, far too small gasping breaths in between and the servants were running as fast as they could to get the sedative, but it was clear across the manor. Running out of options, the lady moved towards the window, opening it wide to let in the fresh air in hopes that it might help stop the painful mussel spasms.

Through teary eyes the child caught sight of something he rarely saw in his sickness induced sheltering, a majestic bird was flying just outside. As he watched the eagle glide over the thermals, his choked breathes became smother and the painful restriction of his throat eased enough for him to stop the wild coughs. But still, he couldn't take his eyes off of the bird soaring high above. The wonder and amazement at this act stuck with him for many years after, especially after his overly doting parents realized the significance of this calming fascination and brought many a falconer in for him before the incident.

– Flying –

It wasn't until the Quidditch match itself that the drastically changed Harry seemed truly interested in anything. His eyes lit up as he watched the game progress, following every move and seeming to know where each of the sports four balls were at any time without the help of the Omnioculars. Only at one point did he seem distracted, seeming to swat at a fly or some such that came to close to his sleeve before giving a pointed glare in that direction.

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes at the boy's silly behavior. Honestly, glaring at the insect wouldn't help at all, but it seemed that it didn't bother him again after that, so maybe it had done more good than she had thought? Well, it had certainly never worked for her against any type of bug that came near her! It was probably just his wonderful luck working in his favor again, she thought fondly.

Though, his luck didn't always work that way, she reminded herself, the cold battle of wits between Lord Malfoy and Harry not an hour before had surprised everyone in the top box. Not only had neither cane holding man resorted to violence, but the one-eyed boy seemed to have gotten the better of his elder in the process. It seemed that more than just his appearance had changed over the summer.

The brunet frowned to herself as she glanced at the patch that now resided on her best friends face. He still refused to tell anyone what had happened to his eye; almost everyone had tried to get a look under that patch but so far none had done it successfully, not even the twins. She knew she had to respect his privacy and had the strength of will to back her morals up, but that didn't stop her fingers from itching with curiosity every time she looked at the dark cloth.

As if sensing her stare, Harry turned his head to the right so he could see her face and raised an inquiring brow. Blushing at having been caught, she turned back to the game, just in time to see the Irish seeker plow into the ground. She winced, the violence of the game just didn't appeal to her at all.

– Competition –

The man across from him swallowed once more and reached up to loosen his cravat. A nervous chuckle escaped from the elder's lips as he chanced a glance back up at his opponent, "Getting a little warm in here, isn't it?"

Not moving except for a slow blink of his one visible eye, the young Earl stared him down, waiting for his next move. Neither of them even glanced away from the heated game when the butler came to take away the remains of their after dinner tea. When it became obvious that the other man wasn't going to continue without an answer, a single brow raised before the 'child' opened his mouth to respond.

"Really? I hadn't noticed any drastic changes in temperature since you asked me to bank the fire a few minutes ago. Are you quite well?" The still arched brow challenged the man, riling him up once again. Reminding himself that he had invited the competition in the first place, why he had to beat him at his own boardgame. Squaring his jaw and wiping his brow, he picked up his piece and made his next decisive move.

"I'm fine, thank you for your concern."

Far too intelligent eyes seemed to glitter with satisfaction in the dim light of the game room and the older man couldn't help but wonder what information his opponent had gained from that. Suddenly even more paranoid, the challenger scanned the board again and again looking for any hint of a mistake. The sweat began to bead once again on his forehead and as he worried himself into a corner, the young Earl simply smiled, all sharp edges and sadism as he easily manipulated the man into playing a game of a different sort.

– Manipulation –

"Really, gentlemen. Is all of this panic really going to help us any?" Harry's clear voice cut through the jumpy group standing in front of them. "The answer to all of this is quite simple, really. Merely bring forth the creature hiding over there in the bushes and ask for the truth. Each and every one of you knows that a House Elf cannot lie under direct and through questioning."

Murmurs could be heard even as two of them men ventured into the bushes, wands drawn as they looked for the cause of all the ruckus. Ron was still standing there, horrified at the thought. How could someone steal his wand and then use it for something as heinous as this? The remains of the Dark Mark still hung above their heads, but the almost oppressive weight that many of those around him seemed to feel wasn't affecting his friend in the least. In fact, he seemed to be thriving under the pressure.

A squeak was heard as a small House Elf was pulled from the surrounding shrubbery. Easily making his way up to it, unnecessarily using his cane as he did so, Harry looked down at it sharply. He spoke up before any of the officials could, "Was Ronald Weasley the wizard who performed the spell to create the Dark Mark?"

Ears flapped as she shook her head and cringed away from the crowd that found her, "No, sirs. Not Weasey!"

Before he could phrase a more telling question Mr. Crouch stepped forward, pushing him back and glaring down at his Elf. "Winky! Elves are not allowed to use wands! You know what this means!" The pitiful Elf gasped, "No!"

"This means clothes." He stood nearly emotionless as she threw herself at his feet, sobbing hysterically. Harry was pulled away from the scene by a highly embarrassed Mr. Weasley, who gathered up the children and brought them back to the tent safely. Hermione faintly registered the regal boy's thoughtful face, but didn't give it much thought as she began making plans to make House Elves' lives better.

– Names –

A single, piercing blue eye studied the newest board placed in front of him, critically examining every nuance of the 'map'. His well trained eye picked out the flaws, how one could easily get stuck in the upper right hand corner and suffer defeat or 'death' because of it, how those talented with dice could con their way through it easily – though that held true for many of it's ilk – and how the titles, labels and phrases would appeal or put off both adults and children.

All it took was a slight jerk of his head to one side and the board game, the worker's dreams, and at least a week if not a month of work were sent back to whence they came. Such a game would frustrate children and their parents, and the special game pieces would be costly to manufacture, making it cost more overall and taking at least half the population out of their marketing range. There was no way a game like that would tarnish the family's and company's good name, even if those in the higher classes already looked down upon it.

That would be because many of the upper class knew what the Phantomhive name really stood for and that the toy business was just a front for their shady dealings, but they would have a hard time convincing any of those unacquainted with the Earl himself. The newest heir had taken great care to keep the general populace in the dark by successfully making their company a household name in children's entertainment while he himself kept to the shadows unless absolutely necessary.

He had manipulated more than a few people into keeping it that way and had no qualms about doing it again. There was no way anything could keep him from his true goal, whether that obstacle was an overly complex game or a useless loudmouth, Ciel would have it quickly and quietly controlled or, if that failed, disposed of.

His lone eye, which had drifted towards a nearby window during his silent musings was drawn back to the next presentation, a small puzzle box that could hide a treasure or treat for the intended owner, and he went on ignoring his butler's knowing glances in his direction. He had more important things to decide.

– Chosen –

"Harry Potter."

The sharp 'tsk' rang out clearly in the newly silenced room and every occupant's eyes stayed glued to the figure as he stood up. Jealous and hate filled stares followed his every move, but the stiff silence was only punctuated by the methodical tap of the dark haired boy's cane as he made his way to the front of the Great Hall.

He ignored every one of his peers, keeping his one eye firmly locked on the headmasters two blue ones even as the whispers finally broke out. But just because he acted like he couldn't hear them, didn't mean that his ears had stopped working. The young man heard the rumors and theories already being tossed about: if was it planned, how he'd done it, and why.

And at the same time, many were mentioning how unsurprised they were by this new development. Being famous, it was expected that he would get caught up in things like this and – because of his heroic beginnings – he was also expected to either win big or lose graciously. Ignoring every caging comment and without pausing for instruction or an explanation, he walked past the older man and into the back room where the other champions were waiting.

– Cages –

Bars made of a cold, hard metal, each of them completely uniform surrounded him on every side. He felt like he had been there forever. Perhaps he had? But, no. The ten year old could remember times before then. Happy times, sad times, even a time when he had tried to escape these bars that had become a large part of his life. Now, however, he could barely drudge up enough feeling to see past those same bars, not wanting to see the inevitable doom that he would face.

The same doom that his recently deceased parents had faced.

But his willful ignorance was soon discarded as the bars were finally opened and a hand reached in to grab him. Blue eyes widened at the sight and suddenly, as if the opening of the cage had freed his trapped emotions, he remembered his fear and his anger. Focusing these newly-won dark feelings, he fought back viciously, using nails and teeth against his captors.

But in the end, it was all for naught and Ciel found himself tied to a large slab in the middle of what seemed to be an auditorium. Many a face stared at him, each filled with any range of emotion from blank to excited, but not a one showed remorse or sadness. His hate-filled glares took in each person before looking back at his fate.

– Attention –

All eyes turned to him as Harry entered the back room to join the other competitors, but he ignored the others and their professors' quibbling with the ease of many years of practice. It wasn't until Dumbledore made his way towards the center that he saw fit to pay attention once more. It was a good thing, seeing as Dumbledore took that time to question him. "Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?"

A single brow raised at the inquiry, did the man seriously think him so foolish? "No," came the clipped answer. Further questions along this line were met with similar responses, but disbelief was written on every face. Tired of the petty arguments and poor reasoning skills of those around him, Harry smoothly turned his head towards Mr. Crouch.

"Surely there is some rule to stop this sort of thing from happening, sir?"

The man shook his head stiffly, the creeping shadows in the room making him look like the reaper himself as he gave his sharp response, "The rules clearly state that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

The arguments which had paused during this small aside started up once more, each side grumbling and complaining about the unfairness of it all. Instead of waiting for them all to settle, the bespectacled young man took a few more steps towards the man who had just sealed his fate. The instructions were soon given to the challengers and Harry easily took his leave shortly after.

Apparently, this was something he couldn't talk, bribe, or fight his way out of. Harry knew that the only possible solution was to win, because there was no way he would compete and lose. Not after what happened before.

– Contract –

Suddenly the captive boy's surroundings changed drastically. Gone were the laughing people, the bloody auditorium and the knife-wielder who was aiming for his heart. All he could see from his reclined position was an empty plain, marred by only a single branch that stuck up from the ground like the mast of a sunken ship. Even as he saw it, a single raven which he hadn't noticed just a moment before alighted on the tip.

It was just before the raven spoke to him that he realized the strangeness of his situation, floating on nothing and white feathers beginning to fall from nowhere as the raven spoke, perfect English spilling out without it even opening it's beak. It had been summoned by his intense feelings of hatred, lust for revenge, and need to survive, it explained. The spirit offered him a deal, his soul for revenge against those who had wronged him so, a large price for one who had been taught to fear god since the time he had begun to understand.

As he weighed the options the raven, now reveled to be a demon in disguise, warned him once more, "By refusing your faith just once, you will be forever obstructed from passing through God's gate."

Ciel had to hold back his snort at his last chance to back out, his body was still burning from the treatment his tormenters had put him through, but he managed to grind out, "As if … a God-fearing creature would ever... summon the likes of you."

The bird didn't even blink an eye as spoke for the final time, "Once again I ask: Dost thou desire a contract?"

"Enough!" The pressure had finally gotten past his carefully-crafted, cold exterior and he fought through the pain to even turn his head slightly towards the deal maker. He succumbed to the promise of a willing slave and bodyguard helping him with his new found goal. "Contractor, now! Grant us our wish!"

The revenge would be completely worth it, and who knows how long revenge might take, possibly longer than he would have lived had none of this happened, Ciel justified his decision once more. Feathers, which had been falling steadily since the beginning and piling up on the ground began to fall upwards, to whence they came. The young Earl could only watch in carefully concealed awe as their white coloring turned black and the raven who had been shrouded completely more than once, was replaced by a tall, smirking man.

A man who would follow him to the ends of his days

– Loyalty –

When he had left Azkaban to hunt down Peter Pettigrew just over a year ago, Sirius had never expected that not only would he get his chance, and subsequently lose it, but that his godson would believe that he was innocent! All of those years he had spent in that hell hole he could never even bring himself to hope that Harry would believe him and now the kid was even turning to him for help!

Another grin stole across his face as he glanced back at the fire that had just connected them for the briefest of moments before he remembered what exactly he had agreed to do. Puzzled, he looked down at the letter in his hand and the collar in the other, a strange pendant hanging where the tag was supposed to be. His brow furrowed as his curiosity got the better of him and he held the letter up to the firelight.

Sighing resignedly, he brought his arm back down. He should have guessed that his godson had put a privacy spell, possibly more than one, on the letter before giving it to him to hand deliver. Or maybe, he thought to himself as he rolled the parchment around the collar before securing it in place, recipients name facing upward, 'paw deliver' would be a better choice of words?

His lips twitched upwards at his humorous analogy as he made his way out of the front door. He belted the collar loosely around his own neck and he made sure that there was no one else on the street, before he stepped behind a convenient hedge. A large dog with the same neck ornament made his way out the other side.

Sirius wasn't sure why his godson needed him to personally deliver this to the Queen (of all people!) without anyone else being the wiser, but his loyalty to those he considered his true family and joy of being the one selected stopped him from asking any further at the time.

– Dog –

A movement caught attention as he patiently ignored Sebastian's teaching. A rather large dog seemed to have found it's way into the garden, reminding him of the one he'd owned as a child. He wondered if this one would stay and debated the pros and cons of such a thing for a moment before deciding it would probably be for the best if it left soon. There was no need to humor the groundlings with the thought of the Queen's Dog owning a dog of his own.

The Queen's Dog. He smirked at the name that the underworld of London had given him. But while he could see why they had named him such, Ciel didn't think it fit him well enough. There was so much more to what he did than just that.

Of course, his family had been called upon by Britain's Royalty for years to be the watchdogs of the underground for them, but that wasn't the only reason why they should be feared by those lowlifes. The petty thieves held no interest for them nor the everyday murderers or swindlers. Those were left for the police and detectives to hunt down, still undeserving of the Phantomhive's extensive resources.

No, they were called in for the strange and unusual, those crimes that baffled the keepers of the peace and those that went above their station. Those who eventually caught their attention, serial murderers, white-collar thieves, and any of those in the upper class who abused their station, had to stay on their toes or risk the Dog's teeth.

For they had no fear in crossing the lines that their upper society peers had imposed upon the world. The Phantomhives were notorious for viewing trials as something used for smaller crimes and, as such, many of their quarries were found 'dead on arrival' due to unfortunate accidents.

Another smile, tinted with malicious intent crossed the young Earls lips before he turned back to his lessons. His butler gave him a knowing look and asked him to play the passage he just explained in detail. Raising a challenging brow, Ciel raised the silver flute to his lips.

– Music –

"And our fourth Champion, Harry Potter!" cried Bagman over the roar of the crowd and once more Fredric sat on the edge of the seat so as to get a better look at the Champion that was pitted against his dragon. The dark-haired young man seemed to be ignoring everything, his entire being focused on the Hungarian Horntail glaring at him from the other side of the stadium. This was certainly no time to be distracted the dragon physically reminded him, thrashing her tail and leaving yard-long gouges in the ground.

The stately young man paused only for a moment to leave his cane near the break in the fence, his calm facade never breaking, though it looked a little stiff. Taking a few steps closer to the weary and agitated dragon, he stopped when it started shifting to get a better view of him, a wise decision as she had quite a range when she got going. Instead of trying to get closer, he reached up one of his sleeves. The dragon tamer squinted to see what it was and was surprised along with his fellow audience members when he saw it was not as wand, but a longer silvery rod.

It wasn't until the Champion had brought it to his lips that Fredric understood exactly what it was, but as he began to play each and every witch and wizard could only stare in shock. The Horntail was calming, it's eyes shuttering slightly to the lilting melody, even as the man in the stands looked at his coworkers. They of course knew that this dragon was easily calmed by this particular song, but wondered how the fourteen year old would know that as well. They hadn't told a soul nor had they used this technique since a week before the dragons were chosen for this task. It wasn't like the child could have guessed it, for even though most larger beasts were soothed by one sound or another, the particulars were drastically different from one to another.

Their amazement only increased as, during a small lull in the song, the young man quickly gestured with his now present wand at the egg. The judges and proctors, who were just about to scoff at the folly of trying to summon the egg, were soon picking their jaws up off the floor. While playing had resumed itself, the egg and the portion of the nest that held it appeared at the contestant's feet. A moment later the song had reached its end and the dragon was sound asleep over it's clutch.

Fredric watched in silence with the rest of the audience, still in disbelief of what they had just witnessed, the reality only setting in after Harry had already picked up his egg and snagged his cane. No one saw him rolling his visible eye discretely as he continued on his way, too distracted by the Horntail which had woken up at the cheering who had started to roar and attempted to attack the now frightened crowd.

– Provoked –

Ciel snarled slightly as he made his way to the parlor. It had been a long night, one full of mystery and intrigue that had eventually worked out in his favor but had eaten up his already short amount of patience. The fact that this visitor had interrupted his sleep before even four hours had passed wasn't helping his temper any, either.

Reaching the door, the boy paused and closed his eyes. A deep breath was taken in and slowly let out as he calmed himself. There was no way that she could have known about what happened last night, especially seeing as she had planned this out weeks before. Really, it was his own fault for not remembering.

That last part didn't help the slowly receding anger, but it did help him justify his guests actions a little bit more. Finally, when he felt like he wouldn't snap at every little thing, he nodded to an accessorized Sebastian who opened the door and bowed him into the room.

His eye was drawn to the ray of sunshine which seemed to be dancing on the girl's blond hair even as she turn toward them at the sound of the door opening. The radiant smile which she gave them both could have been described as breathtaking had the Earl been more poetic. But he wasn't, so he simply greeted her with a polite bow and allowed himself to be dragged over to a couch.

Elizabeth's inane chatter was going in one ear and out the other as she arranged herself more adequately on the stool that had been set up for her. Then, with a small breath to center herself like her teacher had taught, she picked up her instrument and began the small concert she had practiced so hard on for him.

With the bow gliding easily along the strings, Ciel found himself relaxing as he watched her play the classics, never once missing a note. His servants, standing unobtrusively to one side and in new outfits courtesy of the young lady in front of them, smiled at the picture the engaged duo made.

– Couples –

Students that had paired off over the past few days now lined the halls as Harry made his way though the castle that Christmas night, a silent shadow following him just out of sight.

Ron, who had yet to be truly forgiven for his betrayal, had tried to commiserate with him a few nights ago about how neither of them had dates and - without waiting for an answer from his quiet friend - he went on to completely blow it with his other friend by asking her to be his last minute date. Hermione hadn't taken the delayed realization of her gender very well and blew up at the both of them.

Narrowing his eyes at the memory he couldn't help the small smirk from making its way to his face. It was best to keep everyone guessing and he especially enjoyed their looks of surprise when he did something unexpected. It threw people off of their game and make them easier to manipulate, anticipate, and kept them from looking at anything too closely.

After all, if they are too busy looking at his date and wondering about her or their relationship, why should they think about or question his other actions. Like how he knew how to dance so well, or when he learned to play the flute, or yet another question about his cane or eye-patch. As if they weren't annoying enough already. That was the reason why he hadn't corrected either of them.

Reaching his destination, he went up to the Ravenclaw entrance and knocked. A genuine smile came to his face as his date answered the door and took his arm. People stared in disbelief as they made their way down to the Great Hall, wondering if Harry was actually going to take her to the ball, not even believing their eyes as they saw how close they walked or noticed their matching outfits.

He enjoyed the small power this curiosity gave him and gave Luna one last smile as they lined up with the other Champions.

– Celebration –

It was a very pretty dress, he admitted privately to himself. If only it had been on someone else. Someone female. Someone not him.

"You are the one who wanted to go undercover, Master," Sebastian helpfully reminded. The smallest of spasms effected Ciel's eyebrow for a fraction of a second as he looked down at his gloved hands once more, wondering if all of this was really worth it.

A rustling of papers to his right made him turn. His butler looked up at him from where he was reorganizing the papers discussing the murderer, 'Jack the Ripper'. All of those women in danger... Ciel shook his head and made his way for the door to tell Madame Red that they were ready.

Their first challenge after reaching the party wasn't getting in – no, they had planned for that – but staying away from his petite fiance who desperately wanted to see the young 'lady's' dress. After dodging that mess, the gray-haired Earl found himself face to face with their suspect. He would never admit just how awkward that truly made him feel, but his attempts were successful enough for the Viscount to invite him out.

His hopes of catching the gentleman in the act were dashed as his world turned to black.

– Darkness –

The murky depths of the Lake were enough to make one shiver, though Harry refrained as he stood on the platform floating above its surface. Something important of his was down there or at least someone the judges thought he found vital, but he was in no mood to do something as plebeian as swimming, especially on this brisk February day. So he opted for something a little different than what his opponents had planned.

As the whistle was blown signifying the beginning of the contest and the others jumped right into the water, the green-eyed young man simply waited for the water to settle. Then once the Lake had settled back to its eerie glass like surface, he flicked his wand and murmured a phrase. Immediately, the air took on an even colder edge and the water in front of him turned to ice, growing outwards from the raft.

Immensely glad that he hadn't changed into that hideous bathing suit that they had assigned to him, Harry used his cane to check the stability of the ice. After another casting or two, the ice had thickened well enough for him to stand on. He moved easily out to the center of the lake in this fashion, casting further ahead and also below him to keep up an adequate thickness.

Reaching a certain point, which made no sense to any of the bewildered or scoffing onlookers, he stopped. Just a moment and a swish of his wand later, there was a circle cut out of the ice about two meters in diameter. He knelt down next to it, pulling off one of his gloves in the process before reaching into the dark abyss, wand at the ready.

An indeterminate amount of time later he pulled his hand back up, began drying it off with a handkerchief, and was followed almost immediately by a figure who looked very much like a mesh between a human and a fish gone wrong. It gave a screech at the sight of the unimpressed male before holding its hand out. Giving off a put upon air, the human reached into one of his many pockets and pulled out not one, not two, but four shining stones. Those in the know gasped at his handling of these precious artifacts.

Handing them over without a blink or hesitation the merman gleefully took them, the wondrous stones that gave off both light and heat underwater, handing over his part of the obvious bargain as well. The humanoid figure was thrown up on to the ice with ease and not a moment later the undersea creature had gone back to whence he came. Harry took care to recast the freezing spell at least twice over the path back before levitating the girl that had yet to awaken.

It looked like the judges were at least partially correct, Luna was quite a treasure, but she was not yet something he would risk everything for.

– Valued –

Ever since the loss of his parents, Ciel had liked to think of himself as very logical. A cool, calculating person would never have to suffer the way he had when his family had been torn from him. The little jump his heart would take as he walked into his father's old study still expecting to see him there or the hope that would crawl into his chest whenever he caught the melody of his mother's favorite songs only to realize that they would never be there again would never have occurred.

Never aching everyday as you realize that even though there are people around you, they have no sliver of obligation to you other than the ones you make and can leave you at any time they please. Leaving you alone. Again.

But then, a more thoughtful being would never have agreed to the Contract either. Because if he hadn't had those feelings in the first place, why would he strive so far to appease them? These feelings are what drove him, made him want those people to be humiliated and downtrodden just as he had been for his own selfish reasons.

Still, trying to force logic onto an illogical decision would do nothing more than depress him. There was no way to change the past. So instead, Ciel held on to the fact that where he had suffered before, he never would again, coming to view those around him as 'useful' not as friends. People were tools and tools could be replaced easily. Only his most valued tool could not be replaced, but Sebastian would never truly die.

Or so he had thought, but up against this Death God the Earl wasn't so sure anymore. Even as the two supernatural beings fought it out, he couldn't take his eyes off the red figure in front of him. Madame Red had him at knife point, ready to kill him for finding out the truth; she was Jack the Ripper. Her hands shook as she pointed the blade at her nephew and it was becoming readily apparent that her time for choosing weather or not to do the deed was coming to a close.

He waited, heart beating fast but never moving even as the gun still tucked away in his waistband pressed into his back. It was then that he knew that he was still so very far from that cool, calculating person he had striven to be.

– Sharp –

A single green eye took in the scene before him, shrewdly analyzing every nuance. Not that it was very hard to figure out, the man was clearly out of his mind.

After parting ways with the still suspicious Krum, whom he had talked to not minutes before in a carefully erected privacy bubble, Harry had practically been ambushed by a battered looking Crouch. Having pried the man off of him and keeping him a safe distance away with his cane, the fourteen year old was trying to figure out what the man was attempting to tell him.

"Warn...Dumbledore! My fault ... all my fault ... Bertha ... dead … my son … tell Dumbledore … Harry Potter … Dark Lord … stronger..."

The man's eyes were bulging and his hands waving wildly as he tried to impart this message. Thankfully, he had been clear enough for Harry to get the message, now the younger man just had to figure out how to get Dumbledore here or Crouch to the castle.

As he was debating this new obstacle, a movement from just behind him caught his attention. Swiftly turning his head towards the noise but keeping the mad man in the corner of his eye, he wasn't fast enough to stop the red spell that was speeding towards his back. The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was the sound of Hagrid bursting out his backdoor, wondering what all the ruckus was about.

– Madness –

The Death God's taunting voice rang out over the alley, insulting Madame Red even as he pulled his unconventional Scythe from her chest. "I'm not interested in you, who got carried away by meaningless emotions."

Ciel could only stand in horror as he watched his last living relative breath her last, her murderer dismissing her almost immediately after. Keeping his hands from trembling, he stepped forward and knelt down next to her and shut her staring eyes before reminding his butler of his last order.

"I said, take down Jack the Ripper!" He looked up from his aunt's body to look a shocked Sebastian in the eyes. "It's not over yet! Don't hesitate, just hurry up and finish him!"

Pausing in his exit, the Death God looked back at the butler, wondering if he would follow this order even after seeing what he could do.

"Yes, my Lord."

With the battle fiercer than ever, the two of them trading blows as they sharpened their wits. But it seems that Grell was just a trifle smarter on this night and, while Sebastian was too busy bleeding and being disgusted by the Death God's comments, the other man made a break for the unmoving child.

This unexpected turn of events happened too quickly to be stopped. The Earl and his butler could only stare in horror as the chainsaw pierced the master's skin.

– Unpredictable –

"So … on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" said Bagman. "Three – Two – One – " A short blast of the whistle later had Cedric off and running with Harry setting a slower pace, jogging easily out of sight. There was no need to use up all of his stamina on the first leg of the race, after all.

The hedges themselves had a different idea, however, as they had been spelled to move after a certain length of time and did so much faster than any bush over eight feet high should ever move. The one-eyed boy soon found himself sprinting down yet another row of hedges, the right wall having decided to merge with the left.

Panting slightly as he made it to the next crossroads, he took a swift left and made it just in time to watch the path seal up behind him. This didn't worry him as much as it could have, he was never one for backtracking along his own path.

Instead he continued with his strategy, one that he had been taught by his rather sneaky father the first time they had traveled through a hedge maze: remember the paths I showed you before we entered. Of course, due to the magical nature of this particular maze he could not truly memorize the layout, so he had to find another way to know the pathways.

Looking up, he located the raven once more. Two knowing eyes glittered back at him before it took off, seeming to lead away from the main part of the maze. The young boy followed it's directions as he had many times before.

– Remembrance –

Memories flashed before his eyes, those of his family, the good times they'd had, his tenth birthday and the horrors that followed. All of these playing out before him. Many would have felt regret or sorrow, but Ciel didn't see one that he would have done differently.

Each of these things had made him who he was that day, every hurt, every joy, all coming together to make him. Without even one of them, he had no idea what path his life would have taken. The maze of 'what if's and 'if I had only's had so many drastically different outcomes that, even though it could have ended 'better', he would not have been truly happy with any other result.

The only thing he would have hoped for was a little more time to finish what he had started. What they had begun to accomplish together.

The last thing he saw before the true darkness was his usually stoic butler tearing the Death God apart with its own Scythe, a terrible expression on his face.

– Faces –

Harry stared back at the monstrosity that had just risen from the cauldron, his eye patch was gone, but he carefully kept his right eye closed under the cover of his fringe. His left took in the other's appearance, whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that resembled more of a snakes than a humans. This confirmed it for the teen if he hadn't known already.

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

During some obligatory taunting and gloating, the youngest Champion tuned out the Dark Lord's voice, amusing himself with humorous thoughts of what any of the other contestants would have done in this situation had they reached the cup before him. He mentally shrugged and resigned himself to never knowing, just as multiple pops sounded around the cemetery.

Honestly, he couldn't say he was very impressed with the Death Eaters, not only were their uniforms even more outrageous than the usual robes that the wizards wore, but their numbers were terribly underwhelming. Harry's respect for them, which had been somewhere around sub-basement level, dropped even further as Voldemort took the time to scold them like a mother with rowdy children.

The unimpressed snort that finally made its way past the gag did catch the Dark Lord's attention and his focus snapped back to his captive. "So eager to die, Harry?" Only the caw of a raven broke the ominous silence that followed that question, mostly because the person who it was directed to still had a rather large cloth restricting his speech, but the one-eyed glare spoke volumes.

"Well then, I suppose explanations can wait until after the fun," the monstrosity smirked, pointing his wand at the captive. "Crucio!"

Pain, it came from everywhere, never ending, always fresh. His head bent down and his eyes opened wide to stare at the grave beneath him, but not a sound passed his open lips. After a series of moments that felt like decades, the pain stopped, leaving him panting and hanging limply in his restraints. When he looked up again, he glared defiantly at the man who had hunted him for the past thirteen years. The man ignored it easily, any effect the young man was going for was spoiled by the shadows that covered his expression.

"Release him so I may at last prove who is stronger."

In the space of a minute, Harry found himself facing his opponent with naught but a wand and his courage to help him. Yet, even as Voldemort continued his mockery of a duel, the changed teen calmly glanced up and to his left before his attention was caught by the other's last phrase. "Bow to death, Harry."

– Death –

"Stop it," came a ringing voice. Sebastian ignored it, his master had been killed prematurely, fracturing the contract but not truly breaking it for some reason, and there was no way he was letting this thing get away with it. The chainsaw clanged against something, was that a trash collector?

There, on top of a nearby roof, stood it's wielder. "I am William T. Spears of the Dispatch Management Division of the Death Gods. I'm here to pick up the one you are threatening to kill."

The fallen Death God perked up at this savior's appearance, but was soon put down once more as the newcomer jumped from the building directly onto the first's head. Sebastian's anger did not disperse during the reading of the murderer's crimes, but he waited until William gave his 'sincere' apologies before he spoke up.

"Your underling fractured my contract by killing that boy. I trust you know who I am and how I operate; I may only feed through contracts and may only have one at a time." His eyes became slitted once more in his anger. "That contract was not fulfilled yet, nor can it become so without that soul being alive or fully dead!"

The clerical Death God narrowed his eyes as he looked back down at his colleague. A moment later, he looked back up at the Demon, "We cannot take those souls, though we can remove them from their bodies. Usually this wouldn't have been a problem, you would have just completed it with a ghost following you, however, this idiot went against regulation by changing his Scythe so that any souls taken are immediately sent for reincarnation." He opened his folder once again and marked something off before continuing. "Instead of that soul which you will be waiting approximately ninety-two years for, you may have that idiot to satisfy your hunger. Once the soul has been reborn you will have to wait until it reaches a similar age before reconnecting its memories."

Picking up the chainsaw once more, the Death God removed a small roll of film and handed it over to the Demon with distaste. "Just hand this to the child and everything will be remembered as if it just occurred. Within a month, the two personalities will have merged, though this one being stronger due to the fact that it will have been 'experienced' more recently."

He then turned away, taking both weapons with him. "We are now even, Demon. May we never cross paths again."

– Adversary –

"I didn't bow to it the first time so why should I do it now?"

A snarl answered his sardonic question and an immense pressure pressed down on his shoulders nearly forcing him to his knees before the screams started and the Dark Lord turned to face the new threat. The spell caster's attention averted, the fourteen year old resumed his perfect posture.

"Surely, you didn't think I fell for 'Moody's' trick did you? There are many more important things that I have to do this time and none of them involve you." Voldemort turned back to his challenger with a snarl, brandishing his wand before pausing. His bloody eyes widened as he finally saw the other's right eye and the contract that was sealed within it.

"No! How did you – ?! I tried for so many years to find him and yet – !" His screams turned incoherent even as his followers were mowed down all around him, forks and knives sticking out of vital places on every body.

The smirk that settled on the younger man's face spoke volumes, "Sebastian only has one Master." And Voldemort fell for the last time.

– Life –

Harry looked up from his homework which he had brought into his room the night before at the sound of something tapping at his window. Wondering who he knew that would send a letter with a raven, he shrugged before he cautiously opened the window to let the bird in. Maybe it was Sirius'?

It flew right past him without the slightest hesitation, but instead of hearing it land on the perch next to Hedwig, he heard something hit the floor. Cursing his bad luck, as only he could kill a bird by letting it fly in to deliver a message, he turned to see what might have happened. He jumped in shock to see a well dressed man standing where the bird had been not moments before.

Scrambling for his wand and berating himself for forgetting about animagi so soon after learning about them, his eyes widened as the taller man bowed to him. "Forgive me, my Lord, but you must remember."

His back hit the wall as he tried to retreat from this deceptively passive person, every instinct he had calling for him to run. Even as he prepared to cast a spell, to hell with underage laws, the man rushed forward and pressed what seemed to be an undeveloped roll of film into his hand. Before he could throw it away, the memories overtook him.

Under an hour later, the same young man sat up from the bed he had been deposited on, his two-toned gaze hitting the other person in the room. His slightly annoyed tone rang out in the silence, "What took you so long, Sebastian?"

– Connections –

A stately man dressed in a very nice suit stood just beyond the fallen Dark Lord, his own red eyes glittering dangerously. Giving the dissolving body one last dissatisfied glance, the younger turned away and began moving back towards the Goblet.

"Come, Sebastian. There is much work still to be done. You don't want to be held responsible for holding up the Queen." Harry paused for a moment as another thought hit him, "Nor Luna, I would suppose."

The taller man bowed with a fanged smirk, "Of course, my Lord."