AN: SO... LIFE IS ANNOYING and THAT'S WHY THIS IS LATE... but the SEQUEL for Order of the Heavens is here! (I'm so sorry...)

Chapter 1: Reckless Summer

Draco Malfoy schooled his expression from displaying emotion, the grip on his walking stick white-knuckled as he exited the Ministry with his head high, ignoring the flashing cameras in his visage. In his face upon good or bad, the grey-eyed blonde was raised to uphold his pride as a pureblood first and foremost, therefore, he strode in arrogant aloofness, careful but blank. Apparating with a crack, the pureblood nearly sagged in relief to be away from those vultures that called themselves civilized persons of the press, now at the familiar grounds of Diagon Alley. Many at the trial had questioned the whereabouts of his mother as the sole free Malfoy was just that, but Draco took their questions with stride, playing the role of being calm when the only thing he wanted to do was shout on top of his lungs for the release of his father.

But life was anything but kind to those who were suffering. Azkaban.

Expected, but still, the reality of it had Draco reeling as he would have cracked if not for Blaise's curt retort to a particularly uncouth gentleman — remove stocks from there permanently — who stated that it was what he deserved. Perhaps, but it was still his father.

Broken glass cracked under his boots as Malfoy lifted an eyebrow before looking up. Ollivander's. The quaint wand shop that was where anyone who was a wizard in Great Britain acquired a wand, was in shambles to say the least. Window frames bare as glass littered the entrance and scorched inner workings of the shop, it was a mess. Shaking his head, the blonde backtracked his steps lightly before taking out an emerald, Port-key to now his manor. Only to find a guest.

"Aunt Bella." He greeted at the many parlors before confusion covered his expression. "What are you doing here?"

"Draco." His aunt smiled, the maniacal glint in her eyes glowing. "You have returned in one piece. I can't say the same for brother-in-law and Cissy, the Dark Lord shall reward you accordingly if you are loyal. Do not fail him and you should be honored."

"Yes, Aunt Bella." Draco replied, unmoving as she ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. "Mother and Father have made mistakes, and I will not do the same."

She smiled widely, hugging him close, her breath at his ear. "The Dark Lord expects nothing less." Satisfied, she let him go, walking further into the manor, a butler following after a nod from Draco. It was not until he could no longer hear her steps that the boy allowed himself to breathe, turning tail to his wing, he had no time to spare. Toshiro was returning soon and that meant that he had to preparations to make.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Hitsugaya Toushirou stilled from his position over a rack of test tubes, ignoring the sight of a Kurotsuchi and an assisting Nemu overlooking the still specimen that the ice captain had promised his colleague. After improving the Dementor to become both a storage chamber for Pluses and a proxy shinigami for bait situations, the Twelfth Division captain had fulfilled the results that was required of them. Hitsugaya provided the specimens for testing and oversaw the experiments — therefore, writing the reports — while Kurotsuchi did the actual experiments while coordinating with his colleague to speed up the process. The arrangement surprisingly worked well, as the youngest captain was efficient as he was quick, while Kurotsuchi was not as inverse with the wizarding world, therefore, needed the other captain whether he liked him or not.

Having found the Inferius to be immune to his freezing spells with his wand and only attacks with Hyorinmaru in Shikai to be enough to stop the onslaught of corpses, Toshiro was greatly annoyed to find that the reanimated dead were only known to be destroyed by fire. So, he gave a snarling test subject — victim — to Kurotsuchi and asked to be informed the swiftest way to obliterate the annoyances other than fire. The scientist was surprised at the request before asking if he was able to break this one, while the younger merely waved as if to say 'as you please' before stating that he had a whole cave of specimens in ice for him to go through.

Needless to say, the scientist was delighted. This one was the sixty-fourth.

Where, the ice captain was currently experimenting all on his own at his personal corner (room) of the Twelfth Division that the division members quickly learned to leave alone, where the incident involved his strawberry-blonde lieutenant paying a visit before knocking over a light blue vial onto a stray Twelfth Division member, who swiftly fell over in a fetal position before mumbling incoherently, eyes wide and shaking uncontrollably. While everyone in the vicinity was thoroughly freaked out other than the two captains and stoic vice captain, Hitsugaya merely mumbled a 'not diluted enough…' before pulling out a turquoise blue syringe from his lab coat, administering it as he informed the subordinate that the images would last a while and that they would stop in about an hour. To this day, the subordinate was too scared to approach the ice captain, thoroughly traumatized because he would curl into a fetal position after the mere mention of his name.

Needless to say, when the white-haired captain was working at his corner, everyone knew better than to interrupt. Not that they could anymore because after that incident, the captain was given one of the larger experimentation lab rooms as his new 'corner,' none able to enter but him and Kurotsuchi along with Nemu. Pressing a button on his tan bluetooth, the ice captain grunted a greeting.

"Hitsugaya-taicho, this is Seventh Seat, Takezoe Kokichiro, reporting. The Headmaster of Hogwarts would like to see you. He has requested for your company in finding an item."

Teal eyes narrowed as he added four drops of a pink liquid into a clear one, black precipitate forming in the tube on the bottom as he dispensed the rest of the dropper. "Where is he currently?"

"He has been invited into the palace where Pyrrhus is currently speaking with him, sir. He is adamant upon seeing you before departure." Hitsugaya kept his frown still as he poured the contents into a beaker, heating it over a bunsen burner before lidding the crucible, the liquid burning away.

"Inform him that I will not be present until the following two weeks and for him to leave the premises. If not, you may execute force." And with that the captain hung up, before slipping on a mask, pouring the black powder into a bag that was labeled — hellebore grounds.

You will not see to what the Headmaster wants with your company, Master? Sephiroth asked as his master removed his gloves and mask before doing the same with his lab coat, hanging it up as he threw away the other two.

No. Whatever it is that is so concerning to him can wait fourteen days until I return to the palace. Matsumoto better be finished with her paperwork. Replacing his haori over his shinigami robes, the ice captain exited the Twelfth Division to appear over his own, crossing over the filled courtyard of subordinates, training. Paying their looks and bowed greetings with small nods, Hitsugaya entered his office, lifting an eyebrow at the sight that greeted him.

Seated with his lieutenant — not doing her paperwork — was Hinamori, her blue ribboned hair and soft brown locks, not to mention familiar stature was easily recognizable to the ice captain. Immediately, the captain slowed his steps, before eyeing the two of them warily. "Matsumoto, I believe I had left an hour ago with orders for you to do your paperwork."

"EH~ But… The paperwork is so hard, taicho~!" The strawberry blonde woman whined as Hitsugaya glared at her.

"They are approval forms, Matsumoto. All you need to do is read and then see if you're going to approve it or not."

"Exactly~! Reading is bad for my skin, taicho! Do you want me to be ugly?!"

Sighing, the ice captain ignored her whining before looking to Hinamori. "Hinamori, what are you doing here?"

"I was on the way around to deliver papers when I thought I should visit you and Rangiku-san, Shiro-chan." The older sister chirped happily after smiling at the famous antics between Matsumoto and Toshiro, before frowning lightly at the captain. "It has been so long since I've seen you after you went on those year-long missions."

"Eight months." The ice captain corrected, his expression annoyed. "And I told you, it's Hitsugaya-taicho."

Ignoring the quip of his title, the Fifth Division Lieutenant sat up to take her leave. "I have to see Hirako-taicho soon for a meeting. I'll visit you another time, Rangiku-san. Shiro-chan."

"You…" Toshiro swore under his breath, unable to get all of it out before the brown-haired girl had left. Annoyed, he turned to catch his subordinate, tiptoeing her way after his older (adopted, mind you) sister; before she froze and smiled nervously at his scowl. "Matsumoto. The last time I checked, reading was not bad for your skin. And it is not like drinking sake with Hisagi and Abarai are going to assist in understanding any of it. To your desk. Now."

"But taicho~…" Hitsugaya merely hardened his glare as his lieutenant slumped in defeat, pouting as she made her way to the desk adjacent to his own. "… Now I'm going to be ugly because of all of this paperwork. And it's all taicho's fault~!"

Toshiro huffed at his desk, teal eyes locked on his own pile of paperwork. "Even if that was true, it would hardly do anything to you."

The office was silent as Toshiro awaited for the whining retort that was sure to come from Matsumoto, only to have nothing of the sort as he glanced at her to find her gawking. Pale blue eyes wide and a faint blush of rose on her cheeks, the lieutenant let out a small flinch before looking away, stuttering her words as she grinned wolfishly at her captain. "H-Hm~ Are you saying that I'm pretty, Taicho~? I didn't know that you looked at me at that way~"

Resisting the roll in his eyes, the tone inflected it well. "I said nothing of the sort, Matsumoto. Paperwork isn't bad for your skin. That paperwork is due by the end of the day and you have a little more then several hours until that deadline. You have no business to be dawdling. Do your paperwork and on time." For once.

True to his word, the shinigami captain appeared on his palace grounds without much flair, dressed in a sleeveless ebony tee with matching leather pants wrapped over his legs, decorated with zippers that dangled bronze as his trademark boots scraped the courtyard, hiding his wand. White locks messily done, Hitsugaya had just entered his chambers when Pyrrhus had made his entry. As opposed to what most would have thought, the dragon had adjusted somewhat to his humanoid form, just awakened from sleep. Black hair mussed over the shaven half of his head, the young dragon rubbed annoyed garnet eyes as he glared at the captain, dressed in midnight evening robes.

"You're early, Hitsugaya."

Toshiro rose an eyebrow. "I have returned in fourteen days as I said, Pyrrhus." Adjusting the Time-Turner and locket around his neck, the captain replaced a Transfigured Hyorinmaru to his finger, deciding to hide the gigai as a sole bangled ring on his right hand.

"Not at midnight, the moment it turns to the following day." Pyrrhus grumbled, his robes dragging behind him as he seated himself at the captain's desk. "Wizards and Muggles usually come in the morning or the day to do businesses such as these. Not in the night, too afraid or of the sort."

Hitsugaya hummed noncommittally. "Then am I to assume that the palace and Malfoy's company are no problem to you?"

The dragon shrugged. "Malfoy keeps to himself as do I. He only leaves his chambers to leave for some errands, stay overnight in his manor for a few nights, or for that rare walk on the grounds. He's gone now, left just yesterday and told me he was going to be back in four days."

"And the Headmaster?" Toshiro seated himself across the desk, summoning tea for himself and sake for his guest with Japanese snacks. Pouring himself a cup of the bitter tea, the captain lifted the drink to his lips.

"He left you this, before smiling at me as if he knew something and leaving." And with a hand into his sleeve, the fire dragon revealed a bare letter, the writing easily seen through the thin parchment. "And apparently, no one but you and Dumbledore can read it. I nearly burned him to char after he reached into his bloody robes. Damned wizards, shady bastards."

Ignoring the swearing dragon who downed his cup of alcohol, the captain scanned the letter. "… So that leaves the scoreboard to be, three to three."

"The old coot find a Horcrux, then?"

Toshiro ignored the fact that the dragon spilled as he poured more.

"And he requests my presence to accompany him."

"You did inform him that you did destroy the diadem's Horcrux and show him the locket." The dragon shrugged. "At least he's not taking that Potter boy with him to go splunking for them and you instead."

"Yes, but knowing Dumbledore, that's not too far off." Replacing the letter in his back pocket, the captain ran a hand through his locks as he leaned back against the pillows unlike Pyrrhus, who laid outstretched. "Anything else to add?"

"Other than the occasional news of 'supernatural events' from Muggles that were really the work of Death Eaters and rumors of the Dark Lord's location, the wizarding world is uneventful. But there is something of interest that you may wish to divert your attention to, Hitsugaya." Pyrrhus lowered his cup. "What do you know of the Deathly Hallows?"

"… I do not." Toshiro replied, teal eyes expectant.

"I expected as much." Pyrrhus nodded, downing his drink. "They are magical objects that have been lost to time, after all. In possession of all three objects of the Deathly Hallows, has the power to be immortal upon the surface — escaping Death as the Master of Death. A wand that is unbeatable, a stone that can bring back loved ones from oblivion and lastly, a cloak that renders the user invisibility even from the eyes of Death. Together, they are the Deathly Hallows."

"So, if this were to come to the ears of Voldemort, he may pursue to become the Master of Death and try to command me to not kill him? Or at least, try to escape me?" Toshiro's words were cold yet toned with obvious incredulity.

"The True Master of Death cannot do that, and compared to you, the Deathly Hallows are not much of a threat." Pyrrhus pointed to Toshiro's wand. "As the Master of the Ivory Wand, you are equal to the true wielder of the Elder Wand as long as you are vigilant. The Cloak of Invisibility is powerful enough for your eyes to overlook but reiatsu reveals them. The Stone of Resurrection brings back shades of the user's loved ones; reflections of the holder's memories — do not apply to you. Even if you are victorious against the Elder Wand, it's allegiance is not to you. The Cloak will not hide you, nor will the Stone show you the dead."

Toshiro waved for him to continue, drinking his tea.

"The reason is that, as a shinigami, god of Death — you are Death. The objects are gifts that you have gifted to each object that was meant to take the lives of those who had forsaken Death's right with magic. Why would a shinigami have the use for seeing the dead, kill enemies of the living or hide from Death when they are already Death?" Pyrrhus pointed out. "What is concerning is that, while they are unusable to you that does not mean that you are resistible to their effects. As gifts of Death, they will recognize you and will perform to their upmost to their tasks. To usher the walkway to their false users' deaths, and find their place with their true master."

"I suppose the risk for myself is at the recognizing aspect?"

The dragon nodded. "You will be revealed for the species that you are. In other words, be revealed to be Death. If you as much as touch any of them, you will be revealed in the form of not your soul form, but the projected image of Death. The Grim Reaper, himself."

Toshiro appeared inquisitive before smirking, quiet.

Raising an eyebrow, the fire dragon appeared within the Inner World of the ice captain, to find the icy landscape the familiar biting cold. Spotting the two elder dragons lounging comfortably by snow dunes in their humanoid forms — they were strangely eyeing their master warily — as the captain gazed into the distance in front of them, the fire dragon neared them. Greeting the dragons with nods, Pyrrhus blinked as he found himself hearing soft chuckles in the blizzard winds, followed by words so soft he could have sworn it was misheard.

"… been years ago… manifested as a Grim Reaper… not since the Black Plague… how amusing…" The fire dragon repressed a shiver as a black pill danced in the captain's thoughts.

Hitsugaya lounged almost carefree in his private chambers, eyes transfixed with the ceiling as Pyrrhus muttered under his breath with curses, wrapping fresh bandages on the child's right arm, hiding the deep burns. To which was the scene that Malfoy found as he burst in through the doors, ignoring the frowning subordinate behind him as he strode in. The blonde scowled as he studied his friend. Toushirou was conscious, but lazily stared into the ceiling as if the injury to his completely bandaged arm was not as bad as Pyrrhus had made it out to be. But somehow, Draco doubted that. His friend had an interesting disregard for his own well being for most of the time.

"Draco. You have arrived." Toushirou greeted, taking the blonde out of his thoughts as he sighed, seating himself beside Pyrrhus at the pillows, but out of the way, before glaring steely at his cohort on the futon.

"And you are injured. Again." Draco stated flatly. "What, on my father's name, did you do this time?"

"A minor miscalculation that may be a blessing in disguise." Toushirou replied vaguely as he sat up, flexing his bound fingers. Draco stared at him, unamused. From the edge of his collarbone to the tips of his fingers, the entire right arm of the ice captain was covered with white bandages, completely covering any flesh from being seen but was loose enough to allow him flexibility and movement of the limb. "The price may eventually be… inconvenient but the profit is enough as that pest is a step closer to death."

"… Do you mean that you've found another Horcrux?" Draco looked at his friend with wide eyes. "Where?"

"I cannot disclose too much, but as far as you are concerned, it has been done and destroyed. But it is a bit disheartening for us to be only short only two more." Pyrrhus snorted at the captain's words as he stood to put away the salve and bandages. Toushirou ignored him as he turned to Draco. "My side businesses aside, what of happenings upon your front, Draco?"

"Daddy issues." Pyrrhus supplied from the other room as Malfoy choked slightly at the comment while Toushirou merely rose a brow. But there was a laughing glint that made Draco give him the stink eye for a moment.

"I do not, you uncivilized pyromaniac. And you, injured or not, I had nearly forgotten that it was straight to business with you, Toushirou." The blonde huffed, before his grey eyes sharpened. "Rumors had been abound that our Headmaster was gone senile, aged beyond defending anyone. Deeming his beloved facility a danger zone that parents are considering to pull their children out of Hogwarts. And it does not help when Aunt Bella and Greyback are murdering incessantly."

"That much is to be expected." Toushirou hummed, half-sitting and lying back as Pyrrhus grunted, seating beside the blonde. "Chaos does have it's own unexpected addiction, doing what is obviously wrong but not minding if the consequences are a bit amusing to anticipate. Not to mention interesting to manipulate."

"A prodigy control freak who is stubborn to a fault and a prejudiced boy with daddy issues." Pyrrhus rested his chin on his fist, looking at the respective boys, one more visibly annoyed than the other. "I have got to start looking for more sane company."

"As if you are one to talk." Draco snapped. "You were the bloke who set my chambers aflame a week ago with your elemental magic going haywire. I had only mentioned my father once to you, hardly proving that I have daddy issues."

"But you do, Draco." The ice captain was unfazed by the glare shot at him.

But before the conversation could continue, an owl made her appearance from the window, ajar as it allowed the night wind to cool the room. As white as her master's hair and nearly as cold, Korihana dropped an envelope before her master, perching herself on an elegant wood cage that was more of an area for the mod-soul rather than a place of captivity. Satisfied to see her food was refilled with strips of meat for her to fish from a plate of blood, the owl cooed at her master before indulging herself. Ripping his letter with a swift tear, the captain gave his audience no attention as he scanned the contents before folding it and throwing it upon his desk, which was moved aside.

"A letter from Hogwarts?" Pyrrhus rose a brow, before downing some sake, summoned by the captain while tea and several snacks were set for himself and coffee for Malfoy.

"Ah. It's the letter for O.W.L.(s)." Draco recognized, sipping the beverage after placing some cream. "I had received my own just yesterday, an equal amount of Outstanding and Exceeds Expectations with a sole Dreadful from that uncouth oaf's class but I think Father will overlook that one."

"I told you, kid." Pyrrhus sniffed at the blonde. "Daddy issues."

Toushirou ignored both of them as Draco shot a blast of wandless magic at the dragon, who deflected it with a lazy wave of his hand, making the jinx ricochet off the wall before going out the window and burning something. The three of them didn't have the capacity to care at the moment as Toushirou decided to intervene in the current mental war of internally stabbing your neighbor.

"I have only Outstanding under my subjects."

"…'Course you do. Brat."

Toushirou jinxed him in the end, to Draco's faithful encouragement.

Harry neared the Headmaster with reluctant steps, as if unable to believe that he had suddenly appeared before him in a subway station in front of so many Muggles, only to realize that the once busy public was scarce. Now beside him, the boy waited, warm in the London air dressed in a tee shirt under a thin jacket with jeans and laced shoes.

"You've been reckless this summer, Harry." Dumbledore chided without heat.

"I like riding around on trains." Harry insisted. "Takes my mind off things."

The Headmaster hummed low, eyes glazed into his thoughts. "I had intended for Mr. Hitsugaya to join us as well. But due to a thrilling tale, I am afraid that it will just be us this evening, Harry."

The Boy Who Lived felt his expression grow stony, conflicted upon the subject of the young prodigy from Japan. Hitsugaya had saved Harry multiple times along with his friends, yet had lied to them for years that he was actually of Slytherin and not to mention the one who had the destiny to decide whether or not it would be himself or Voldemort who would live. Harry had really no idea what to think. Hitsugaya was not easy to read; cold, intelligent and utterly ruthless upon his decisions against those who opposed his intentions. And it appeared that only the transfer knew what they were.

"Take my arm." Dumbledore's request voiced, taking him from his thoughts.

Harry glanced behind him as the Headmaster waited. "Do as I say."

Not one to be disobeying one of the greatest wizards of all time, Harry obeyed before feeling like he had been squeezed through a series of pipes, stretched and pulled in uncomfortable ways he would rather not explain. Before appearing in the center of an empty town, dark and isolated beside Dumbledore feeling like he was going to puke as the elder wizard appeared almost enviously serene.

"I just Apparated, didn't I?" Harry managed to croak out as Dumbledore nodded.

"Indeed. Quite successfully too, might I add. Most people vomit the first time."

Harry swallowed the urge to follow in that. "I can't imagine why."

Turning, the Headmaster took to a direction without explanation, a blinking Harry following, full of questions but kept them to himself as Dumbledore began to speak. "Welcome to the charming village of Budleigh Babberton. Harry, I assume, right about now, you're wondering why I brought you here. Am I right?"

Stopping before a large home with gates ajar, Harry shrugged. "Actually, sir, after all these years, I just sort of go with it."

Taking in the house the Headmaster had led them in, the most jarring detail was that the door appeared to be kicked open, savagely torn from the hinges to limply lean against its frame, barring anyone who had a rational dose of common sense to walk away. Potted plants hung on feebly as they wilted under the night, debris from the wind covering the house with a layer of age and abandon. Rightly cautious, the Headmaster reached to his sleeve.

"Wands out, Harry." The Boy Who Lived obeyed instantly.

Lumos illuminating their way, Dumbledore took to the lead as Harry took to the rear, entering the house to find it ransacked from top to bottom, the furniture ripped apart and the lights shattered with glass cutting into the once intricate carpet. Following closely behind Dumbledore, Harry repressed the feeling of fear as he gripped his bright wand.

"Horace?" Harry blinked at his Headmaster's whisper. Who was Horace?

Other than the occasional patter of cracking glass under their feet, creak of the aged floorboards, and the whisper of Dumbledore's voice, silence was predominantly the sound of the home much to Harry's discomfort as they entered another room that could have served as a living room or parlor. Spotting a copy of the Daily Prophet on the floor, the Boy Who Lived breathed softly before a spot of red splattered upon the papers, chills crawling over his spine when only one liquid was that red and thick.

Looking to the ceiling, Harry found the plaster chipped away to reveal bloodied floorboards that appeared to seep from the high level and drip to the one below. One drop of to which fell on his forehead. Naturally, Harry reached to it only for Dumbledore to do it for him, taking the blood to his lips. Turning away from his student, Dumbledore held a knowing glint as he neared a musty armchair that appeared to almost, not fit with the fancy but broken furniture around it. Poking it, to Harry's surprise, caused a head to pop out.

"Merlin's beard!"

Confused, it was the first time, Harry Potter had met Horace Slughorn.