Hello, lovlies. For those who don't know me I am Rose Basilisk 007, although I tend to go by Rose Basilisk in A/Ns. This is my first Kuroshitsuji/Harry Potter crossover, but I've read several of them, and I've watched the anime and read the manga... as such, I will be drawing from both when writing the Kuroshitsuji Characters. My disclaimer, which we all have, is on my profile. It's universal, as I hate being redundant, and so I'm not putting one here. I normally put my warnings in my summaries but I really ran out of room.

Warnings: Twin fic-which means Harry has a twin, light bashing-and i mean serious light bashing-as Ciel is not light and Dumbles really rubs me the wrong way, I did leave Lily and James alive-and since I don't really go into it in the story, Voldie decided to leave them alive for shits and giggles as I truly think he is that sadistic-so they were powerfully stunned, There's also some serious light bashing, as well as slash

Slash warning: I'm pretty certain this is going to be a ciel/Sebastian slash story, so technically, it's underage slash. Also, if slash makes you queasy or turns you off, then I suggest you turn back. For those that have never liked slash I apperently have a knack of making people enjoy the story anyway, so maybe you do want to read. Anyway, this is a super long A/N so I'll let you get to the story. Ta

Chapter I—His butler, Adopted

England—Victoria Era, Phantomhive Estate

Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive had been awaiting the arrival of their newborn for over a year; when Ciel was born they were ecstatic. He had inherited Countess Phantomhive's asthma and due to a pre-mature birth was born with a weak heart. Still, he was a happy infant, and his dark hair complemented his sea blue eyes very well. For four years the fragile boy lived happily with his family, until tragedy stuck before his fifth birthday.

Ciel's heart gave out, it was sudden, and Rachel was inconsolable in her grief. The pregnancy had been very difficult on her lungs, and the doctor had advised against another pregnancy. Vincent felt helpless, he had not told any outside of the staff of Ciel's death, and was too caught up in his grief to think on the subject. Although, he continued his duties as Her Majesty's Guard Dog, he felt adrift and powerless inside. Due to their son's poor health, The Phantomhives had thought it best to limit those who interacted with him to themselves and the household staff. As such, not even his aunts had seen him since infancy.

A knock sounded on Earl Phantomhive's office door.

"Enter," Vincent said as he continued in his paperwork. Tanaka stepped into the office of his lord, hold a small child in his arms. The child appeared to be around five years of age, and was cold from being out in the snow for hours. His clothes were quite strange. Vincent looked up and dropped him pen.

"Tanaka, why are you carrying a child?" he asked his head butler.

"He was found in the gardens, my Lord. Passed out from the cold he is, freezing, and we've no idea where he came from. He frightened the maids, sir, as he looks so much like our late young master. I was hoping we could call a doctor for him, he seems in a bad way," said the butler. Vincent nodded.

"I agree, send for the doctor immediately," said Vincent. Tanaka nodded and left with the child. The boy did truly look much like Ciel; Vincent began to get an idea. Strange as it was, but he would have wait and see.

Three days passed before the child awoke, the doctor had said the boy had a dangerous fever that seemed to have damaged his lungs. He'd have asthma, if he survived. Survive the boy did, when Countess Phantomhive laid eyes upon the child she called him Ciel and refused to leave his side. Vincent did not correct her; if she wished to believe this was their son, Vincent would allow her to. Regardless, Rachel was asleep when the boy awoke.

"Good morning, you've slept for three days, little boy. How are you feeling?" said Vincent. He'd come to check on his wife and the child, as he had every morning for the last three days. He felt his breath catch in his throat. The boy's eyes were a deep green, with swirls of a strange blue in them. He felt as if he were staring at the ghost of his son. The boy looked confused, and sheepish.

"I'm so-sorry, sir. I didn' mean ta be a bover," said the boy with big eyes. He even sounded similar to Ciel, his lisp near identical.

"We were actually quite worried for you," Vincent said after a moment. "The doctor says you were out there in the cold for a long time, he's surprised you even survived. Your lungs were hurt by the fever the cold gave you. What is your name, little boy?"

He had to know, his plan was near solid now, and he could truly see this boy as his son, but he had to know. Before he did what he was going to do, he had to know.

"I don' kno, sir. I fink the lady and man called me 'arry once," said the boy and Vincent could see those big sea coloured eyes fill with tears. "They don' call me tha' no more, tho, jus boy now."

"Who are the lady and man?" Vincent asked with feelings of anger boiling in his gut.

"They was momma and dada, but they no want to be tha to me anymo. Jus fo Cha'ly are they momma and dada now," said the boy. The boy was trying hard not to cry now, and Vincent was impressed the little child could hold back the tears at all. It sounded as if his parents had abandoned him.

"Who's Charlie?"

"Cha'ly is my brover. He no like me anymo, no one like me anymo, they like Cha'ly mo; cause the bad man came when momma and dada was away and the bad man tried to hurt Cha'ly an me, but I wouln' le 'im. Now eve'y one like Cha'ly mo ten me cause he gots a mark from when he hitted his hea' on ta floo'."

What strange people, Vincent thought as he listened to the little boy. So his parents no longer care for him, that's perfect. No one will ask questions.

"Well, My wife, whose sitting right over there, and I have always wanted a little boy like you. Since you no longer have a mother and father, would you like us to be your new mother and father?" Vincent asked. This was the real question. Would the boy be willing, he watched as the child's expressive eyes looked at him with hope.

"You wan's me?" the little child asked.

"Yes, we'd call you Ciel, and you'd be our son. We'd tell everyone that you were born to us, that you've always our son," he told the boy. The child smiled, and Vincent felt his heart melt, he looked identical to Ciel when he smiled.

"Yea, I wanna be you' son," said the new Ciel. Rachel woke with a start.

"Oh Vincent! I had a horrid dream; Ciel was sick and died from his weak lungs!" Rachel cried.

"It's alright, you're awake now, darling and look, so is little Ciel. I'll have Tanaka fetch the doctor, you stay with Ciel," Vincent said with a smile. It seemed Rachel didn't even remember the real Ciel's death.

Perhaps that's for the best, thought Vincent as he went to get Tanaka. The staff needed to know they were to act as if this Ciel was the real Ciel, and not let anyone know the first had died.

Two weeks later

Ciel met his cousins Edward and Elizabeth for the first time in his young life. Francis, his father's sister was much stricter than Madame Red, his mother's sister, but Ciel didn't mind since she was nice to him. Today was his birthday, well, the birthday his father told him would have from now on. Ciel didn't mind. Charlie's birthday could be in July, his would be in December. Anything to make the two of them different. Charlie could keep Momma and dada, he had mother and father now.

"Alright, young master, time to blow out the candles," said Tanaka. Ciel blew out the candles on his cake and wished to always be as happy as he was now.

Modern Day England—Grimauld Place

A thirteen year old Charlie Potter was back from Hogwarts for his winter holiday. The Dark lord had risen again when he was eleven, having gotten the sorcerer's stone from the bowels of Hogwarts. Lily and James had moved in with their friend and Charlie's godfather Sirius Black that year. Their son wasn't safe elsewhere besides Hogwarts.

"Everyone, please, settle down," Albus said as he started the meeting. The Order of the Phoenix had reassembled three years past, and had made its headquarters in Grimauld Place at Sirius's request. Remus sat by his lover and across from Charlie.

"Does anyone have any information on where Voldemort is planning on raiding next?" Dumbledore asked. Severus was not at the meeting, he never was, he was a trump card Albus held hidden up his obscenely coloured sleeve.

"They may go for Diagon Alley," Sirius suggested.

"Shouldn't we be more worried about gaining allies than where the Dark lord is going to raid next?" Lily asked. She had her auburn hair in an up-do, and the Potter rings flashing on her fingers. She wore a red dress, as she usually did.

"Lily, I think Albus is right about worrying more about the raid than allies," James said to his wife. "We've got the ministry on our side."

"So does Voldemort. James, he's got as much of the ministry on his side as we do ours. I'm not sure we've got the numbers to keep going at him as we have," Lily said.

"Mum, they're dark, they can't possibly win. They might have some blokes from the ministry, but we've got the better ones," said Charlie. The rest of the table exclaimed in favor of Charlie's words; except for Albus and Lily.

Lily wondered how her son could turn out so much like James. Not even a little of her common sense had made it to her little man. Not for the first time Lily wondered if Harry would have turned out different. Harry had always been quiet and clever. He always seemed to be cautious about things. He'd been such a bright boy, but he was gone now. Albus had taken him away, said Harry needed to be raised by people who could afford to take time to raise him. They had Charlie to worry about, and Lily had secretly agreed that maybe Harry would become envious if he stayed.

Albus, however, was thinking along different lines. The prophecy had stated that the one marked would be Voldemort's equal. Albus assumed that didn't just mean power wise, but as a tactician and leader. Charlie Potter, as the Chosen One, should have good grades, and be able to think on his feet. However, the boy seemed to be better at sports than anything else. He had failed utterly in his first year, not in school work, no, the boy had his friend Hermione keeping him afloat there, no he'd failed when it came to the stone. He'd not kept it safe from Voldemort, he hadn't even realized Voldemort was at the school. He'd let Voldemort rise to power, and his ideas were one of the reasons they were losing. The boy couldn't do anything right, he wasn't even very powerful.

Maybe I made the wrong choice, he thought not for the first time. One of the Potter twins had to be the Chosen One, Voldemort had gone after them after all. He'd thought it was Charlie because of the jagged scar on his brow, the mark.

Perhaps the mark was not a scar, Harry Potter's eyes had become bluer after the attack, and Albus nearly sighed before pushing his thoughts away. It didn't matter now, they were stuck with Charlie. Harry Potter had run away from the Dursleys not three months after he'd been placed there. The boy had not had a letter written to him when he was eleven, which meant he was dead. The magic of the school would have written an address if that weren't the case. Still, his doubts made him worry. If Charlie was not the Chosen one, and Harry had been, then they were doomed because of his own mistake. No, I was not wrong, Charlie is the Chosen one, Harry was just an ordinary wizard, Albus thought to himself.