Summary: Azkaban has gained a new resident. However, he doesn't plan on staying… One-shot.

Though I should probably be working on my other stories, this little ficlet wouldn't leave me alone ^^' Ah well, best get this out of the way so I can continue working on those rather neglected fics… Hope you enjoy!

WARNING: Some Allen-torture, though very mild and nothing graphic (no really, it's all implied)... it's very short, anyway. And in the form of a flashback (guess how… this is Azkaban, people). Also, spoilers for those not updated on recent D. Gray-Man chapters.

I'm not well-versed in the HP universe, though I did my best. This is set sometime around the beginning of PoA…

EDIT 2/13: I forgot to mention that this takes place well after D. Gray-Man is finished, which means that Allen and Nea would have spent about 90+ years together… anyone feel free to check my math :D With the way things are headed in the current DGM chapters, you'd think immortality isn't so far-fetched for Allen…

:Speaking through mind-link:

Thoughts will be in italics.

Flashbacks will be in bold.

Listen, listen, to this prison

Many black hearts cry.

Cowering, quaking, shaking,

As the guards pass by.

….

Should this be read

And its writer not present,

He is most likely dead.

….

How lovely. The former resident had thought that some poetry, scrawled on the wall in blood by the looks of it, might brighten the dank, dark prison cell. Scratch that. The content of the simple verses seemed a bit too morbid to be labeled "bright". For a human, anyway.

The grey-skinned man sighed as he turned his gaze to the barred window, rhythmically tapping his fingers against his leg and humming along to the invisible tune. The wails of agony made a wonderful background, but he made sure to keep that thought from his adorable nephew (he just couldn't help his Noah's nature). Slowly, his gaze raked over every inch of the cell, observing the dirt and grime that settled into every nook and cranny. If insanity didn't get to the prisoners first, illness would. That, or starvation. Already two days since he was placed here, and he was given nothing more than a single plate of an unidentifiable, gooey substance. He didn't eat it – his rumbling stomach attested to that – he had pushed the plate into the corner of the room, with his foot, before it mysteriously vanished minutes later. Of course, with his nephew being a parasitic-Innocence wielder, this would pose a serious problem if he remained for any sustained amount of time…

At any rate, he detested this place and those responsible for placing him there. Or rather, for placing his nephew there. The former exorcist hadn't even been doing anything wrong, not that the so-called wizards had believed him. What sort of world had they saved from the Earl when a person couldn't save a child without being called a "dark magical creature" and "too dangerous to roam freely"? Seriously, the irony was nearly enough to have him rolling across the ground of their shared mindscape, laughing his ass off. The only thing preventing him from doing so was the overwhelming surge of rage and incredulity that washed over him. One look at his nephew's arm, and the wizards hadn't given him – them – a chance. Straight to prison, no questions asked.

It really pissed him off, to put it as eloquently as possible, as well as reducing his faith in humanity even lower.

His nephew was undeserving to held in such a place, with his kind and innocent (bordering on naïve) heart; his own heart, however, was a different story… which was why he was currently in control of the conscious level of their shared mind. He wouldn't allow Allen to have to experience this, not if the Fourteenth Noah of Destruction (or Betrayal, as his brothers and sisters oh-so lovingly dubbed him), Nea Walker, could help it.

:Shut up Uncle. I'm not as delicate as you make me out to be,: a musical voice grumbled.

Oh dear… Allen heard that, did he? :Ne, don't be so mean! I only want to protect your purity!:

Nea could picture the flush of embarrassment coloring his nephew's cheeks. :U-Uncle!: He sputtered a few moments more, to the older man's great amusement.

:Use your words, dearest nephew of mine~:

He heard Allen mutter something along the lines of "your only nephew" before becoming silent as he collected himself. As he waited, Nea distracted himself from peeking into the other's thoughts by composing a quick melody to describe this prison – Abracadabra, something or other. Wizards and their odd tendency to come up with ridiculous names…

:How are you doing?:

To say that he was taken aback by Allen's quiet response would have been an understatement. The concern which laced through his words was not difficult to miss; it warmed his heart to know that Allen truly cared for him, even after all the things he had put the boy through… all the things he had to suffer for, in the name of the Fourteenth… he didn't deserve Allen's love…

"You will tell us of the Earl's plans, or suffer the fate of a traitor."

It hurt to watch. They, the damned dogs of the Vatican, mercilessly tortured Allen for information… information he didn't have. Even if he knew and told them, they would have labeled him a traitor anyway for association with a Noah… for being his host…

"Tell us, Walker!"

But he couldn't do anything to stop it.

No.

Those bastards had used some kind of new drug to suppress him from surfacing. He was helpless, helpless to do anything but watch.

Stop.

"I don't know anything, I swear!" Allen's pained voice cried out. Oh, how he wished to come to his nephew's aid, to at least whisper words of comfort. He was even deprived of that; the drug had completely blocked all pathways which connected their minds.

Allen was alone.

No, that's not true…

Suffering.

Not anymore!

It was his entire fault.

Damn it all…

"Gahhh!"

Wait, no… stop it…

"Please! I swe-arhhh!"

NO!

… He would kill them all.

GET OUT!

He was thrust harshly back into reality, gasping for breath on his hands and knees, throwing up all of his mental shields after he recognized the intrusion into his memories. He was well-acquainted with his having his mind violated, during the wonderful times he had "played" with Road. This particular experience proved to be a bit different from her twisted mind games, though the effect was eerily the same: he felt closer to the brink of insanity than usual.

But this wasn't like one of Road's games. At least, when that creepy little girl took you into one of her illusions, they were just that: illusions. Not real. This, however…

"Damn it," he cursed.

Movement from the corner of his blurred vision – when had he started crying? – caught his attention. He sharply looked up in time to see a black, wispy-clothed creature recoiling from the entrance of his cell.

The source of his pain and suffering was the result of that creature's presence. He was sure of it.

He had to get rid of it.

Nea glared at the creature, taking pleasure in seeing the thing back further away in what seemed to be confusion and, perhaps, fear. It lingered, though… such audacity…

"Leave me," he snarled dangerously, allowing some of his Noah's genes to flare. Almost instantly, the monstrosity bowed its head in submission before gliding away towards another cell.

He slumped against the nearest wall, relieved to find that the dark atmosphere lifted slightly. If only just slightly.

And when he subconsciously lowered his mental barriers, since the threat was gone, he was suddenly reminded of the other occupant of this shared mindscape. A very angry occupant. A very loud occupant.

:Allen, please stop shouting.:

:Why should I?: the boy snapped. Before he could respond, Allen added heatedly, :I had no idea what happened to you!:

Nea sighed, guiltily running a hand through his (nephew's) snowy hair. :I apologize.:

Allen huffed, calming down to some extent. :Mind telling me what the hell happened?:

:Language: Nea scolded absent-mindedly. He had no intention of bringing up those particular memories again. It was bad enough his poor nephew had to suffer through such an ordeal in the first place. He sighed tiredly, responding with a firm, :You don't need to know, Allen.:

Obviously irritated with his uncle's un-cooperativeness, Allen relented for the moment. :Fine. But you never answered my question.:

Nea chuckled, steadily rising to his feet and leaning against the wall for support. :I'm doing perfectly well. You know very well that it takes quite a bit of power to take me down… I'll not be defeated by a mere magical prison after having faced the Earl himself.:

:… says the man who collapsed just a few seconds ago.:

:You don't give me nearly enough credit, my dear nephew,: Nea pouted. :I was taken off-guard.:

:Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.:

Nea's lips twitched, fighting the smile which threatened to break loose. :So cruel… I think I'm a bad influence on you.:

He heard Allen's airy laugh before feeling something prickling unpleasantly at the edges of his mind. His amber eyes flickered to the entrance of his cell once more, his piercing glance narrowing in irritation as he spotted another one of those black clothed creatures.

He wasn't sure if it was the same one as before – he didn't really care, either way – but he intended on sending a message to those depressing bastards, once and for all. Nea sauntered up to the cell door, glaring at the creature fiercely. It backed away, just as the other had done. "Listen up, all of you," he snapped, his voice amplified ten-fold. Every one of those abominations should be able to hear him, now. "Come near me, and you shall be dealt a painful death." He formed a ball of dark matter in the palm of his hand, making sure the creature in front of him was able to see it. It fled faster than he thought it capable of moving.

Satisfied with himself, Nea decided that he had humored the wizards long enough. As if they could contain a Noah.

:Just don't kill anyone.:

Nea rolled his eyes at his nephew's harsh tone (sometimes he wondered who was the mature one). He was wrapped around the boy's finger… he'd never go against Allen's wishes, which included dirtying their hands with blood. :Don't worry, I'll do my best to resist.:

With that, Nea began planning his escape.

It wouldn't be too difficult. Charms, spells, and things of the like were child's play after having to deal with the Crow. The only issue was making his escape as flashy and fun as possible. It had been such a long time since Nea had had fun… and he had to do so without killing anyone.

His answer came in the form of one Sirius Black.

Apparently the prisoner across from him, a man who had seemed quite off-his-rocker if the random mutterings meant anything, turned out to be plotting his escape as well. Something about having to protect his godson. Nea relayed to the man that he himself had a nephew he'd do anything to protect (leaving out the fact that they shared the same mind, of course). It was through this understanding that they had formed an almost-kinship. It was obvious Black still didn't quite trust him, though he couldn't blame the man. He knew he didn't exactly give off a very trusting vibe, being a Noah and all. It didn't help that the strange creatures, which he now knew were Dementors, avoided him like the plague.

But after three days of building their relationship, for lack of better terminology, Nea knew he couldn't wait any longer. He felt significantly weaker than a few days prior, most of it due to not being able to provide nourishment for his nephew's Innocence. He was still strong enough to carry out a break, though he didn't know how long he would be able to fight off any wizards that would chase after him… and Black, if the man chose to tag along.

Knowing that it was time, Nea made his way over to the entrance of his cell, pushing back the slight dizziness of standing upright too quickly. "Black," he called out softly. Once he knew he had the man's attention, he continued, "Whether you're ready or not, I'm not staying a minute longer." It was pointless to speak in code about their plan; they wouldn't be heard by anyone other than half-crazed and completely insane prisoners (the Dementors didn't count either).

"What?!" Black exclaimed. "Right now? But we haven't even –"

He was interrupted by an explosion, the force of which made him stumble back a few steps. Once he regained his footing, Sirius hurried back to find Nea standing amidst the debris and rapidly clearing smoke. He gaped, staring at the man in shock. "What – How –"

Nea snickered, brushing some dust off of his prison uniform. He approached Black's cell, warning him to step back. He did so, not a moment before Nea blew yet another hole through his cell door and through the other side of his cell, revealing a vast ocean beyond the prison's walls.

"Let's get to it, then!" he said enthusiastically, flashing the surprised man a charming smile.

And there you have it! The plot bunny stopped poking me after this point, so this is where it ends. I'll put it as Complete, though I might continue it. Maybe. It's not completely edited, so if you see any mistakes, please point them out... it's too early in the morning for me to comb through everything right now.

So, tell me what you thought! Liked it? Loved it? Despised it? Reviews are like cookies to me! :3