AN: I do not own D. Gray-Man or Harry Potter. D. Gray-Man belongs to the brilliant Katsura Hoshino, and Harry Potter belongs to the equally brilliant J.K. Rowling.

Soldiers and Children – Chapter 1

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry could hardly be called a "normal" school. Students attending the old magic school learned how to make furniture float, mix up sleeping potions, and fly on brooms. Typical Hogwarts affairs.

Headmaster Dumbledore smiled into his long white beard. His students would enjoy something extra, particularly his special charge. For the past four years, Harry Potter had battled giant snakes, soul-sucking dementors, devious plots, and evil teachers. He could use an advantage. And Dumbledore had arranged for one.

Of course, the person coming to Hogwarts was bringing his own share of trouble, but Dumbledore felt sure that his staff, not to mention himself, would be quite capable of handling it. After all, that was why the Black Order had agreed to send help.

Sighing in content, the old man unwrapped a lemon drop and leaned back in his large, soft armchair. The new school term would begin in less than a month, but Allen Walker would arrive in less than a week. He'd best prepare.

XXX

Shifting uncomfortably against the stiff train seat, the young, gray-eyed teenager quelled the urge to tear off the thick blindfold tied tightly around his head. Not that he could anyway. Crackling white seals wrapped around his entire body, concentrated mainly on his arms, which were bound before him, weighed down by the heavy magics in the seals. The teenager sighed as his stomach emitted a loud grumble.

"Link…"

"Just deal with it, Walker. The castle is less than an hour away."

Allen sighed again. Although his vision was completely obstructed, he could easily picture the strict look his companion was giving him.

"Remind me again why I'm completely immobilized, on a train, and headed towards an unknown location only specified as 'the castle'? And why, for God's sake, you are my only company? I thought we already moved past the whole suspicion thing."

"Don't use the Lord's name in vain. You have already proven yourself fairly trustworthy. I am only here to regulate the seals, which, as I've already told you, are suppressing your powers – all your powers – for your own sake."

Allen raised a dubious eyebrow. "You mean for the Vatican's sake?"

"Both. We can't afford to let the Earl take one of our most powerful exorcists and the Ark's player. And you wouldn't want the Fourteenth contacting the Earl again, would you?"

"There would have to be akuma around for that to happen. Besides, that still doesn't explain everything else. Why haven't I been briefed on the current mission? And why don't I have any backup? Lenalee or Lavi, or even Kanda?"

"I would have thought you could handle a mission by yourself. And aren't you forgetting what happened at HQ last month? The Order is still recovering from the damage. You're pretty much the only one who has fully recovered from your injuries and… other issues," Link ended awkwardly. "I am the only person available to escort you to your destination."

"I thought Kanda – never mind." Allen abruptly stopped, slumping against the back of his seat. The compartment fell into a silence only broken half an hour later, when the train's arrival was announced over the loudspeaker.

"Time to go," Link grunted as he stood, "I'll take off your blindfold and unseal your legs so you can walk, but your arms stay sealed."

"That's fine. Just hurry up and let me stretch. I'm dying to get off this train." Allen leaned forward and felt the thick cloth around his head loosen before being pulled off completely. He squinted through the bright light streaming in through the compartment windows as Link worked on the seals. "Where are we, anyway?"

Link hesitated before answering. "All I can tell you is that we're not far from old HQ."

"Why didn't we just use the Ark like we always do? Don't tell me Rouvelier still thinks I'm going to run away."

"As a matter of fact…"

"Never mind. I think already know the answer to that one. But, honestly, when am I going to learn what I'm doing here, wherever here is?"

Link finished removing the seals before he slowly replied, "You'll be briefed when we get to the castle. You know we can't afford to give you too much information. If you ever become – I mean, if you ever –"

Allen snorted, amused by the man's uncharacteristic stumble. "Yeah, I know. If I ever turn into the Fourteenth, you can't afford to have me know too much." He suddenly looked up, his eyes fierce. "But, you know, I'll never let him take control, and I'll never turn against my comrades. The Order is my life and my family. I'm not going to let anyone hurt my friends, especially not myself."

"We'll see," was all Link said. He slid open the compartment door and gestured to Allen. "Come on, let's go. If you're 'dying to get off this train,' you don't want to be stuck on it when it leaves the station."

With mock horror on his face, Allen hurried to step out and disembark the train. And stopped in confusion.

"Link, you said that we're near old HQ, right? Then why doesn't this look anything like London?" Spread before him was a picturesque landscape of rolling hills and breezy meadows. Far in the distance, Allen could see a mountain range, and before that, a dark forest stretched out. But the most remarkable detail was the grand castle dominating the hill by a beautiful lake. It captured Allen's attention, and he immediately knew that it was 'the castle.'

"Don't worry Walker. We're in London. This is just a more… discreet region. Now stop gaping at the scenery and get moving. We do have an appointment to keep, after all." Link pointed to a small footpath leading down from the train station and began walking. "Don't trip. You're guaranteed to fall flat on your face with your arms sealed."

"I resent that," Allen grumbled, "I have better balance than you, even with my arms tied."

Link raised an eyebrow and gestured again at the path. "We don't have all day, Walker. Get a move on. Use that better balance of yours to get us to the castle on time."

"I don't know what time we have to get there by. I don't even know what time it is!" Allen protested as he nevertheless carefully made his way to the footpath.

"You'll know when we get to the castle."

"How did I know you were going to say that?"

XXX

Crackling fires lit the interior of a methodically cluttered office. Silver instruments whistled and clicked, occasionally emitting clouds of multicolor smoke, which triggered a bout of coughing from the whispering people painted in portraits carefully hung at regular intervals around the office. A sudden flare of light brightened a dark corner of the room as a wrinkled little bird burst into flames, scattering ashes into the tray below it. The old man seated at the large mahogany desk gazed at the remains of the bird for only a moment before focusing his attention once again on the misty image swirling in the air above his desk.

It was almost like a pantomime, the stiff set of the blond-haired man's shoulders as the younger teenager gave a lighthearted laugh, skipping down the dirt path, somewhat awkwardly due to the strange binds on his arms. The sound of the laugh didn't reach his office, but Dumbledore chuckled at the teenager's energy. He wondered if this was the help the Black Order had promised. Was the blond-haired man the one named Allen Walker, one of those "exorcists" who served as the Order's soldiers? But then what purpose would the youth by his side serve? An apprentice? Questions tumbled about the headmaster's mind, but answers would have to wait for the two's arrival.

In the image, the teenager turned back to smile at the blond-haired man, who gave an exaggerated sigh before jogging to catch up with his companion. And then something strange happened. The blond-haired man suddenly stiffened and seemed to look past the image and into Dumbledore's eyes. He whispered something to the teenager, who frowned and shook his head. Dumbledore leaned forward in interest, mumbling something quietly. The image froze, then clarified once again.

"-know you could sense magic," the teenager was saying.

"It's something I learned in Crow. Do you think it could be the Earl?" That was the blond-haired man.

"No, if it were the Earl, we would be seeing its effects by now. And he's more discreet than to let anyone, even someone from Crow, know that he's here. Either that, or he'd be bouncing around in front of us right now."

"I suppose that's true… The Earl isn't supposed to know about this place anyway. Let's just hope that this magic is something cooked up by our allies. Maybe it's someone at the castle."

"Again, with 'the castle.' Wait – what do you mean by the Earl isn't supposed to know about this place?"

Here the blond-haired man sighed and said, "You'll see." From there the conversation died off, and the two walked in silence. Dumbledore frowned in concentration, and the hovering image dissipated into the air. He frowned again, this time in puzzlement. What had the blond-haired main meant by "the Earl" and "Crow"? Could those be code words? And why didn't the teenager know what was going on? Well, at least it was clear by now that they had been sent from the Black Order.

Dumbledore surveyed his office, his gaze coming to rest on the tray of ashes that the bird had become. "Fawkes, wake up. We are to have guests in a short while." A form in the ashes stirred, and a bright flame suddenly erupted from amongst the debris. It expanded, revealing itself to be a magnificent bird with flames licking its wings and body. "Good. Why don't you lead our guests to my office? They ought to have reached the castle by now." Fawkes bent his head in consent and disappeared in a brief flash of light.

XXX

"Um… Hello…?" Allen stood before the castle doors, politely rapping on the aged oak. He threw a confused look over his shoulder to Link, who had crossed his arms and was tapping his foot impatiently. "Isn't someone waiting for us?"

Link frowned. "There should be someone… Maybe he's coming down now." A sudden burst of flame surprised both of them, and they tensed in one synchronized movement, preparing to defend themselves. The flaming bird that had appeared before them clicked its beak and cocked its head to the side, considering the pair, before drifting down to perch on Allen's shoulder.

"It's a… phoenix…" Allen murmured quietly, carefully keeping his head still, "A bird covered in flames. A phoenix. Right Link?" His companion slowly nodded his head.

"I suppose this must be our guide." He looked at the bird. "Are you?" The phoenix clicked its beak again, brushed Allen's head affectionately with a wing, and bobbed its head towards the door.

"Open it?" Allen asked. The phoenix clicked its beak. "Okay, sure." He grasped the ornate brass handles and carefully opened the castle doors. Now the phoenix pushed off from its perch on his shoulder and hovered in the air for a moment, before gliding down the lighted corridor that had appeared before them. Allen exchanged a look with Link, then rushed to catch up with the receding figure of the phoenix.

Link followed at a more deliberate pace, gazing curiously at the gas lamps lining the corridor, the clean wooden floor, and, most importantly, the moving pictures framed along the walls. He raised an eyebrow at the strange sight, but dismissed it as a matter for further discussion at a later time.

After a few moving staircases, many ghost encounters, and a password-holding gargoyle, the party of three stood before the door leading to the office of the person who was apparently in charge of the castle. The phoenix gave a gentle trill, and the door slowly creaked open.

"Welcome to Hogwarts."