DISCLAIMER: The works incorporated in this story are the property of Mr. Kubo and Ms. Rowling and their respective publishers. I make no profit from the following, which was done purely for my own entertaiment purposes.

IN OTHER WORDS: If you recognize it, it isn't mine. And if you don't recognize it, it still probably isn't mine.


Harry Potter and the God of Death

-0-

Chapter the Third
Meetings in the Dark

-0-

Harry blinked nervously at the figure now seated comfortably at the desk facing him. He and Ichigo were alone now, Shirosaki having (grudgingly) gone off to take some measurements and try and salvage the remains of the dementor in the alley (apparently someone named 'Koo-ro-soo-chi' had wanted a 'sample'; Harry tried not to think too hard about what that could mean). An awkward silence filled the room as Harry fidgeted nervously with the moth-eaten bed sheet. Ichigo had flipped open his cell phone, rapidly punching in numbers and scowling darkly as the device beeped out an unfavorable response.

Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Er… not the answer you were looking for?"

Ichigo's eyes flickered in his direction before returning to the screen. "No."

"So… what are you doing?"

The phone snapped shut and Ichigo leaned back in his chair with an exhausted sigh. "Not much… waiting for reports from some people I know. And trying to locate Koga… knew I shouldn't have authorized that extended leave," he chuckled dryly. "The Bount are damn good at hiding themselves when they want to be."

Harry stared. "Your phone can do that?"

Ichigo gave him an odd look. "Uh… Yeah, technology's getting pretty advanced these days."

"Oh."

Silence fell again.

"Shiro's coming," Ichigo said suddenly, standing and opening the tiny bedroom window. "Should be here any minute…"

Harry nodded slowly. "How do you know?" he blurted. "I mean, he said the same thing before you came back from wherever-it-is-you-were. How do you do it?"

Ichigo looked thoughtful. "We share a… connection, I guess is the best way to put it."

"He said the same thing," the black-haired boy muttered. "Must be a twin thing, then. Fred and George do it too… at least, I think they do. Don't think I've ever seen one without the other, though."

Ichigo stared at him. "Twins? Is that what he told you?" He shook his head despairingly. "Well, it's close enough I suppose."

"Well, that's what he told me," said Harry irritably. "Was he lying when he said he was your – and I quote – 'evil twin?'"

Ichigo's expression was torn between a grimace and a smirk. "We like to think of it that way, but that's… not entirely accurate. It's… complicated. But it'll do."

Harry considered this. "So that's how you know where the other one is, then?"

"That's part of it," Ichigo admitted. "It also helps that I've gotten good enough at reiatsu-sensing that I can tell where people are, if I know them well enough."

Harry had just opened his mouth to ask just what in the name of Merlin 'reiatsu' was when Ichigo's white double appeared through the window, landing gracefully on the floor next to the desk. He dumped the large black bundle he was carrying on Harry's bedroom floor unceremoniously, regarding it with obvious distaste.

Ichigo opened the bundle carefully, wincing slightly as a horrible smell filled the small room that made Harry retch violently. Ichigo glanced over at his duplicate, eyebrows raised.

"(An advanced decay rate?)"

Shiro nodded. "(There wasn' much left by the time I got there. Couple more 'ours an' I s'pect the 'ole thin' woulda been gone.)"

"(Weird… Don't suppose it's any relation to Barragan, do you?)"

"('Ope not, 'e was enough of a bastard when 'e was alive,)" Shiro muttered. "('Ow ya plannin' on preservin' that thin', anyway? At that rate it won' survive lon' enough to reach Kurotsuchi.)"

"(I was thinking Geki,)" Ichigo admitted. "(It causes minor temporal stasis… that should work, right?)"

Shirosaki shrugged. "(Dunno. I'm no good at kidou, remember?)"

Ichigo snorted. "(Yeah, that's you alright.)" He wrapped the dementor's remains back in its cloak and set the bundle in the middle of the floor.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, eyeing the robes warily.

Neither of them bothered to answer his question. Ichigo closed his eyes and held his hand out in front of him, face screwed up in concentration.

With an odd surging sound, light exploded on Ichigo's palm, making it shine a pale blue. Harry stared. "What—"

"Ya might wanna step back," Shirosaki advised. "Ichigo's no good at kidou; even low-level Bakudou tend ta get a li'l messy."

"(Disintegrate, you black dog of Rondanini! Look upon yourself with horror and then claw out your own throat!)" he chanted, the light in his hand blinding in its intensity. It shifted colors as he finished the incantation, changing from a bright blue to a deep, bloody red. "(Bakudou no Kyuu: Geki!)"

The red light immediately shot away from him, enveloping the rotting dementor in scarlet light. The light flickered for a moment before fading away, leaving only a slight crimson glow near the edge of the bundle. Ichigo took a long, slow breath and lowered his arm.

Shirosaki grinned. "(Oi, congrats! Ya pulled off Geki without blowin' yerself up!)"

"(Shut up,)" Ichigo muttered, bending and picking up the faintly glowing remains. He tossed them at his white double, who caught them easily. "(Take these over to Dad; he can pass 'em on to Kurotsuchi.)"

"(Like 'ell I am. I brought it 'ere, you do it—)"

Harry gaped at them. "You – you're a wizard!"

They paused, midway through their bickering, and stared blankly at him. "Huh?"

"You have to be! I mean, of course you are, that couldn't have been anything except magic…" Harry continued, completely oblivious to the confused looks the pair were giving him. "Why didn't you say something before? If I'd known… what spell did you use to fight off the dementors? Was it wandless magic, like the one you just used? Wait a moment… that was a major violation of the underage magic laws! The Ministry doesn't know you're here, they'll think that's the second bit of magic I've done in three hours! I'll get expelled before you can say 'Quidditch!' Even Dumbledore couldn't—"

"Oi, calm down, Potter!" Ichigo said, shaking Harry roughly by the shoulder. "Now slow down, I can't understand you if you keep babbling like that."

Harry took a deep breath. "Why didn't you tell me you were a wizard?" he asked, giving his cousin a hard glare.

"Uh…" Ichigo exchanged a bewildered glance with his white counterpart. What on Earth was Potter going on about? "I – I'm not – what do you mean, a 'wizard?'"

"You can do magic, what else? That was magic, right? Of course it was, it couldn't possibly be anything else…" Harry trailed off, getting up and pacing his bedroom floor. "Except… what did you call it? Kee-tow."

"Kidou."

"Whatever," he said, waving a hand through the air dismissively. "The point is, even if you call it something else, you can still do magic. That makes you a wizard." He turned and looked his cousin squarely in the eye. "Why didn't you tell me? It would have made everything so much easier…"

"I…" Ichigo glanced at Shirosaki in confusion, who simply shrugged. "We didn't know you were one," he said at last.

Harry chuckled softly. "I take it I'm not as famous in Asia as I am here… That makes sense, I suppose, since it's half a world away…" he smiled slightly to himself. "I can't decide if that's reassuring or not…"

Shirosaki quirked a pale eyebrow. "Why'd that be reassurin'?"

"I'm really famous here – if I ever wanted to get away from the 'adoring fans,' I could come visit you in Japan," Harry explained. His expression darkened. "Of course, I might have to come sooner than expected. If – when – the Ministry expels me – and they will, after that little bit of magic you just did—"

"Why would they expel you?"

"Because I did magic, obviously. Don't they have underage magic restrictions where you come from?" he retorted, pacing angrily. "They'll think that's the second bit of magic I've done in just a few hours – they won't even bother waiting until the hearing to come and snap my wand! And what after that, Azkaban? Exile? A death sentence? Merlin knows not having a wand with Voldemort on the loose is enough of one—"

"Like 'ell they will, we won't let 'em," Shirosaki snapped. "Ya ain't dyin' on our watch, kid, stick thingy or no stick thingy."

Ichigo, however, looked thoughtful. "How do they know you did magic in the first place?"

Harry paused, mid-step. "I don't know," he admitted. "I think there must be some sort of tracking charm on wands… That'd make sense. Hermione would know."

"Well, since I didn't use a 'wand' thing, there's no reason for a 'tracking charm' to have picked up Geki, is there?" Ichigo pointed out. "I don't think you've got anything to worry about. And anyway, the British authorities know I'm here; if they did pick up the bakudou, I'll explain what happened and they'll let Seireitei deal with any punishment. Alright? Now calm down."

Harry breathed deeply and sat back down on the bed. "Yeah. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Ichigo said, leaning back in his chair. "What's this hearing thing you're worrying about, anyway?"

Harry hung his head sadly. "It's to determine whether or not I'll be expelled from Hogwarts – that's the school I go to – for doing magic. Only, I didn't have any choice in the matter; if I hadn't used the Patronus Charm, we'd all be soulless shells by now: not dead, but not really alive either…" he trailed off uncomfortably. "You don't feel or anything. You just… exist. It's not a pretty fate, I imagine… Nearly happened to me once, a couple of years ago…"

Ya don' die when one o' them thin's eats yer soul? Shirosaki repeated softly. I don' get it. When the soul's removed from the body, the body dies. Simple as that.

Ichigo frowned slightly. Maybe they don't actually eat the soul

Then what?

He shook his head. I don't know.

"…but fortunately I was able to use the Patronus Charm to drive them off. That's the only thing that works, that I know of. It's a bloody hard spell, though. It takes a lot out of you…"

"What's the Patronus Charm?"

"It summons a Patronus, which is the only thing that can harm a Dementor. A Patronus is a sort of guardian, a projection of your happy feelings. But they can't feel pain, so dementors can't hurt them," Harry explained. "Hermione says it's an old protection spell, but other than that I don't know much about them."

"I see…" Ichigo murmured. "So then, what exactly are dementors?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Professor Lupin told me they're horrible creatures, and I'm inclined to agree with him. They feed on happiness, I know, and they create misery in wizards and Muggles alike—"

"'Muggles?'"

"—Non-magical folk – They force their victims to relive their worst memories. And, of course, if given half a chance they'll suck out your soul. They're horrible creatures," he repeated, shuddering. "I can't understand why the Ministry would use them."

"'Old on – yer gover'men' actually employs those thin's?" Shirosaki screeched, looking appalled. "Why?"

"Because as horrible as they are, they keep dangerous prisoners from escaping," Harry explained bitterly. "At least, that's their logic. They're prison guards. I don't like it, myself. It's horrible on the inmates, especially if they committed no crime in the first place. Most go insane within a few months, if not weeks," he added quietly. "They're never the same when – if – they get out. It's awful."

Neither Ichigo nor his white doppelganger knew what to say to this.

"Anyway, what really confuses me is why dementors would be in Little Whinging in the first place. There're hardly any wizards living here at all; as far as I know, I'm the only one. They don't have a reason to come here at all. The only thing I can think of is that someone sent them, but that doesn't make sense… unless the dementors really have joined Voldemort like Dumbledore predicted they would – but the Prophet would have said something about that, even if they wanted to completely ignore Voldemort's return…"

"Who is Voldemort?" Ichigo asked. "You mentioned him once before. Who is he?"

"Only the most evil and powerful Dark Wizard in modern history," Harry said dully. "Actually, it'd make sense if he did send those dementors after me. Merlin knows what he'd give to have me dead, especially since his plan didn't work out so well at the end of last year—"

"Why would this Voldemort guy want to kill you?"

Harry stared at him for a moment, before blinking and shaking his head distractedly. "I keep forgetting you don't know about me. Heh, never thought I'd take being famous for granted," he added to himself, chuckling darkly. He looked back at Ichigo. "Fourteen years ago, Voldemort attacked my family. He killed my parents and then tried to kill me. The spell he used, Avada Kedavra, the same one he used on my parents and on hundreds of others, is supposed to be unblockable – you're not supposed to survive being hit with the Avada. Since I'm still here, it obviously didn't work. The curse reflected back on Voldemort instead of killing me. No one really knows why," he continued, seeing the confused expression on Ichigo's face. "Though I suspect Dumbledore has an idea…"

"Who's Dumbledore?"

Harry sighed. "Honestly, how could you not know? Albus Dumbledore's probably the strongest wizard in the world, apart from Voldemort. He's practically a living legend."

"Ah. But if the curse – Avada Kedavra, I think you called it – ended up hitting this Voldemort bastard, how is it he's back now as you say?"

"That's the thing; he wasn't actually dead, I don't think. I don't know what he was… I doubt he did either. He wasn't a ghost. More of a… shade of himself, I suppose. He simply existed, completely powerless. Well, mostly powerless," Harry amended. "He could possess stuff… animals, people, that sort of thing; he possessed Professor Quirrel in my first year. I don't know what you'd call that."

A soul, Ichigo realized. So he had been dead, then. He filed away this thought for later. Out loud, he asked, "How did he come back?"

Harry fell silent for a moment. "It was… it was a dark ritual. He didn't really come back from the dead, I don't think… he got his body and his power back. It was awful… He killed…" he trailed off, unable to continue.

"Somebody died," Shirosaki said bluntly. It wasn't a question. "Ya saw it."

"…Yes," Harry confessed after a moment, his eyes clouding. "It was all my… my fault… my stupidity got him killed…"

A pause followed this admission, while a single tear traced a damp trail down Harry's cheek and he looked determinedly away from the other two. Ichigo glanced at Shiro, who shrugged uncomfortably. "…What happened?"

Harry shuddered. "I don't want to talk about it," he said quietly.

Ichigo nodded. He could understand that all too well. "That's fine. You don't have to." Seeing as Harry did not look consoled by this, he leaned forward and patted the boy awkwardly on the shoulder. "Um, look, I'm not too good at this whole 'comforting' thing, but you'll be alright, Potter. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for a few months or years, but you'll be alright." He stood. "Come on, Shiro. We've got a report to work on, jigokuchou to send. Let's go."

The white creature shifted, giving the dark-haired boy a slightly suspicious look, then got up and followed Ichigo out the door. "…Tch. Fine."

"Goodnight, Harry," Ichigo said quietly, and shut the door softly behind them.

After a long moment, Harry got up, switched off the lamp, and lay down on his bed, not even bothering to put on his pyjamas, staring, without really seeing, at the patch of moonlight reflecting off the top of Hedwig's cage.

It took him a long time to get to sleep that night.

-0-

The days passed slowly, with Harry swinging between bouts of listless depression and restless anxiety. Ichigo, for all intents and purposes, maintained a fairly distant relationship with his cousin after that first night, instead spending a great deal of time with his family and the Dursleys – who, naturally, stayed as far away as possible from the dreaded wizard upstairs – and by the time Friday rolled around, Ichigo had packed his bags (obligatory mountain of paperwork included) and left with his sisters and parent for the London conference center and hotel.

At least, the Dursley family thought he did. Technically speaking, they'd been spending time with Kon. Apparently none of them thought it odd that a woman Yuzu's age still carried around an old stuffed animal. Who knew?

Ichigo scowled and flipped his phone shut for the fifteenth time that evening. Three days now he'd been waiting for Ulquiorra's findings and still nothing, not even a note saying that there was nothing to be found. Hell, for all he knew, Pesche and Dondochakka might have knocked over a bookshelf in the Central Archives in their well-meaning, misguided eagerness to help and killed the Cuarta Espada. The lack of news was starting to seriously worry him, but he reassured himself with the thought that, Ulquiorra being Ulquiorra, he was probably putting together the most well-researched, most detailed damned report in the history of Seireitei.

At least it'll be thorough by the time I get it, Ichigo thought, standing and stretching tiredly. Several bones in his back popped ominously. …Remind me to never spend nine hours straight in a tree again.

Will do, Shiro sniggered. He had retreated into the safety of their collective mind per Ukitake's suggestion; he hadn't been happy with it, but had reluctantly agreed that it would be a bad idea for them to deliberately provoke Avalon. Not, of course, that they had seen either hide or hair of the British Soul Society forces since their arrival – something Ichigo found somewhat odd, since he had requested a meeting with their equivalent of the Court Guard (whatever it was called) to find out more about the dementor creatures; pooling resources and all that. But he figured that, for whatever reason, they wanted nothing to do with his investigation, and so didn't pay it much attention.

Still nothin' from Emo-chan, then?

Not a word. Nothing from Koga or Urahara, either. Kurotsuchi claims to still be processing the data we gave him.

Tch. More like 'e's still pissed Nel wrecked 'is lab. Bastard.

Yeah, probably. Ichigo glanced towards the silent front of Number Four. The Dursleys had left some time ago, dressed in their formal best and wearing expressions of immense smugness. Harry had not been with them. Think it's time to check up on Potter?

Sure, it's abou' time fer 'im ta start – Ichigo! Shiro's mental voice became agitated, the waves of anxiety rolling off him adding to Ichigo's own. There's somebody in the 'ouse!

I know! Ichigo snapped, already dashing back towards Number Four. It was weak, but both he and his Hollow had felt a slight flare of reiatsu in the empty house – and it hadn't been Harry's. He landed silently and crouched low beneath an open upstairs window, Zangetsu already half-drawn. The house was completely still and silent… perhaps too much so. Where are they?

His question was answered almost immediately when he heard a distinct crashing noise from the floor below, followed immediately by a hasty apology and several loud shushing noises.

In the kitchen… and there're a lot of them, judging by the noise. Not very good at stealth, are they? He edged closer to the stairwell, relaxing his grip on Zangetsu. It would be difficult to use the sword in such close quarters – a disadvantage of having a large zanpakutou – and Cero would only bring the house down on top of them, so unless he could lure the intruders outside, he'd be relying almost entirely on hakuda.

A door to his left clicked open, causing Ichigo to whip around, but he froze almost immediately with his outstretched knifehand half an inch from Harry's neck.

Harry blinked in shock, his brain apparently having trouble processing the fact that he had very nearly been struck in the jugular. "Ichigo? What—"

Ichigo shoved his hand over Harry's mouth, motioning for him to stay quiet. Harry nodded, and Ichigo lowered his arm. "Sorry about that," he muttered. "You heard that crash, right?"

Harry nodded. "Burglars, you reckon?"

"Could be. They try anything, I won't hesitate."

Harry didn't have to ask what he meant. "…Right."

Together the pair inched closer to the stairs. With a glance back at Ichigo, Harry stepped forward onto the landing, his wand raised, and immediately felt his heart leap. Standing in the downstairs hall were several shadowy figures crowded around the bottom of the stairs, and all, as far as he could tell, looking up at him.

"Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out," said a gruff voice from the bottom of the stairs.

Ichigo tensed behind him, but Harry waved with his free hand, trying to calm the high-strung teen. "Professor Moody?" he asked cautiously, not lowering his wand an inch. He had, after all, a very good reason not to trust Alastor Moody. An imposter disguised as Moody had been in league with Voldemort last year; an imposter who had, furthermore, attempted to kill him.

Several times.

The voice snorted. "I don't know so much about 'Professor.' Never got around to much teaching, did I? Get down here, we want to see you properly."

Harry didn't move. He felt a slight tap on his elbow, and glanced sideways to see Ichigo, still crouched and tensed, ready to spring forward at any moment.

"Who is it?" he whispered.

"Eight or nine people," Harry replied, equally quiet. "I don't know what they're here for…"

"It's all right, Harry. We've come to take you away," said a second, hoarser voice.

Harry's face lit up. "P-Professor Lupin? Is… Is that you?" he asked hopefully, completely ignoring his cousin's darkening scowl.

"Why are we all standing around in the dark?" a third voice wondered aloud. Harry didn't recognize this one; it was young and distinctly female. "Lumos!"

And before Harry even had a chance to stop him, Ichigo had vanished from his spot at the top of the stairs with a hiss of displaced air and reappeared in the hallway, knocking the woman to the ground and holding her wrist at an odd angle. With a soft gasp of pain, she dropped her wand and it clattered to the floor, casting eerie shadows on the ceiling.

As one the rest of the wizards rounded on him, their wand tips aglow with red stunners.

"STUPEFY!"

And Ichigo moved. Faster than Harry could blink, the enormous sword was drawn and – impossibly – had batted aside every incoming stunner, sending them richocheting off of the walls, floor, and ceiling. The assembled wizards were forced to duck out of the way of the ominously sparking jets of light before they leapt to their feet again, wands alight.

"Stop, stop!" Harry shouted, thundering down the stairs and waving his arms frantically. "STOP!" He came to a halt between the two groups, panting and out of breath. He rounded on Ichigo, who still had his foot firmly planted on the woman's back, her face steadily turning paler and paler. "What the hell are you thinking? They're on my side!"

Ichigo scowled. "I told you, if they tried anything—"

"Idiot! That was a spell for light, you moron! It's a first year spell, completely and utterly harmless! Let her go!"

"Tch." With one last glare, he released her from his grip. She scrambled away from him and back to the circle of tense wizards, where Lupin helped her gingerly to her feet. She collapsed onto him, burying her face in his shabby robes. Ichigo paid them no attention, instead returning the sword to its place on his back. "How the hell was I supposed to know that? I don't know anything about how your damn magic works!"

Before Harry could open his mouth to retort, Lupin cleared his throat loudly. "Er… Harry?" he asked slowly, eyeing Ichigo warily, "Who is this?"

Harry's face turned an unpleasant shade of puce. "Um… w-well, that's, um, that's my c-cousin I-Ichigo."

Moody frowned, the deep scars on his face twisting in odd directions. The magical eye stared fixedly at the redhead, as though looking for something. "The visiting cousin from Japan? Arabella Figg said she'd seen him leave with his family for London yesterday. What's he still doing here?"

"Er… I don't know," Harry admitted, regarding his cousin curiously as though having just realized this. "I thought I saw you leave, too. What are you still doing here?"

Ichigo frowned. "Research."

"Research on how to best kill Harry, no doubt," piped up a man in a violet top hat.

Moody silenced him with a glare. "And what is it you're researching?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "What reason could Seireitei possibly have for wanting to kill a human teenager? Besides, if they wanted him dead, they'd have sent Soifon and the Onmitsukidou. I'm not exactly that good at subtlety," he said, indicating the sword and his vivid hair. "So no, I have no desire to kill Potter. I'm under orders to investigate the creatures that appeared here on Tuesday evening. Dementors."

"Under orders from whom?" Moody asked suspiciously.

"Ukitake Juushirou-soutaichou."

"So if you're supposed to be investigating these 'abominations,' as you call them, why are you still here?" wondered Lupin.

Ichigo scowled. "Because Potter here is the only lead we have right now," he said, jerking his thumb in the black-haired teen's direction. "Until one of my contacts comes through, there isn't much more I can do than follow him around in case one of them shows up again."

Lupin nodded. "Alright then. Harry," he said, turning to the boy standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, "Why don't you go and pack your things? We'll be leaving shortly. And keep your broom out, we'll be flying there."

Harry nodded and made his way back up the staircase, the formerly-purple-haired woman following close behind, muttering something along the lines of 'I'll help him pack.' She shot Ichigo a furtive look as she passed, before vanishing up the stairs after Harry.

The second the pair were out of sight, the remaining wizards rounded on Ichigo. "Now, let's talk seriously," Moody began, advancing on him with his wand raised, fixing him with his best odd-eyed glare. The boy didn't even flinch. "Who are you?"

He scowled. "My name is Ichigo Kurosaki, Captain of the Fifth Division of the Imperial Guard of the Seireitei."

"Try again," Moody growled, his wand inching closer. "You can't be Kurosaki, Arabella Figg saw him leave this house and board a taxi for London yesterday. There aren't that many redheads what live on Privet Drive, so unless she was very much mistaken—"

"She wasn't."

"And yet you're still here."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow incredulously. "Of course. You didn't really think I'd leave a potential lead behind, did you?"

Lupin frowned. "Then how…?"

He hmm-ed thoughtfully for a moment before replying. "…There are ways to make copies of yourself. A false body and artificial soul work wonders."

The assembled group of wizards recoiled as though struck. "'Artificial soul?'" an elderly witch repeated, sounding horrified. "What's that?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," Ichigo replied offhandedly. "Souls created to serve a specific purpose, namely inhabit and animate whatever body they're put in. Kon's a mod soul – combat model, ambush class if I remember rightly – but he works pretty damn well as a soul replacement whenever I need to leave my gigai."

A shiver ran through the crowd. "Who are you?" Lupin asked, sounding unnerved.

"We've been through this. My name is Ichigo Kuro—"

Moody's wand sparked threateningly. "Shut up, boy, and answer me seriously. What are you? You obviously aren't human."

Ichigo expression turned to one of feigned disbelief. "What makes you say that?"

The grizzled wizard laughed harshly. "There's no fooling me, boy. I never met a human with power quite like yours. Not to mention the fact that I've traveled all over the world and I've never heard of magic like that. So that all begs the question: what are you, boy?"

Ichigo chuckled. "You're very clever, jii-san. Avalon will be lucky to have you. I don't suppose there's any chance of luring over to Japan, is there?" He smirked. "Sorry, jii-san, but I can't tell you. I'm under specific orders not to. I'm sure you wizards understand the importance of secrecy," he added, raising a sardonic eyebrow at Moody.

"So you admit you're not human?" asked the man in the purple hat, glaring at Ichigo suspiciously.

He shrugged. "Depends on your definition of 'human.'"

Moody jabbed him in the side. "Stop playing games, boy. Why did you attack us?"

"I don't know anything about your spells. For all I knew, whatever spell she used might have been your equivalent of Kurohitsugi. I've learned not to take chances with kidou – sorry, magic users. It usually gets you killed. I admit I overreacted," he continued, "And I'm sorry about that. But I'd rather attack and be mistaken than not attack and be dead. That doesn't help anybody."

"That's… understandable," Lupin said, his voice sounding strained. "And what, if I might ask, is your interest in Harry? Surely following around a teenage boy isn't the best method for gathering information on dementors," he added, nodding in the direction of the stairwell. "So then why…?"

Ichigo's scowl darkened. "…I'm worried," he said after a moment. "Those… things were sent after him by someone or someones unknown. It was a deliberate attack on his life and, more importantly, his soul. I'm not some punk who'll just abandon family and friends when they're in danger. I won't leave family – no matter how distantly we're related – to fend for themselves. Not when I can do something about it."

None of the wizards seemed to know what to say to that. Lupin had just opened his mouth to speak when a loud clattering sounded upstairs, and Harry and the witch – whose hair had, somehow, turned bubblegum pink – thumped down the stairs, Harry's broom over his shoulder and his school trunk and a large, empty bird cage floating in the air behind them.

"…Yeah, it's got great acceleration – you know, zero to one-fifty in about ten seconds. Absolutely incredible feeling, it is. Not to mention it reacts to the slightest—" Harry broke off mid-sentence, glancing curiously between Ichigo and the assembled wizards, most of whom still had their wands pointed at Ichigo, who simply looked exasperated. "Er… did we miss something?"

"Not at all," Lupin lied easily, smiling. "Just a friendly chat. Got everything? All ready to go?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Where are we going, anyway? The Burrow?"

"Not the Burrow, it's too risky. We've set up headquarters somewhere undetectable. It's taken a while, but we'll be safe there."

"It's nearly time for the signal," grunted Moody, checking an odd watch with twelve hands. "We need to head out into the garden, time to get ready. Just one thing first," he said, raising his wand and tapping Harry over the head with it. Ichigo tensed slightly at the action. "Don't worry, boy, it's just a disillusionment spell. Lupin says he's got an invisibility cloak, but that won't stay on in the air. This is the next best thing."

Ichigo blinked, then snorted in amusement. "I've seen a lot over the years, but I've got to admit, I've never seen a human-shaped coat rack before."

A few in the circle of wizards got a small laugh out of that before heading out the back door and into the garden. Ichigo followed.

"Clear night," Moody muttered, his electric-blue eye swiveling around in its socket. "Could've used a bit more cloud cover… Right. Listen closely, Potter. We'll be flying in close formation. Tonks—" he nodded at the pink-haired woman from before, "—Will be flying right in front of you, so keep close on her tail. Lupin'll be covering you from below, and I'll be behind you. The rest will be circling our formation, and they won't break ranks for anything. Understood? If we're attacked—"

"Keep going and I'll hold the attackers off," Ichigo interrupted, crossing his arms defiantly and leaning back against the garden fence. "I'll catch up to you later."

Moody rounded on him. "And just what makes you think you're coming with us, boy?"

"What makes you think you can stop me?" he asked dryly. "You people are my only lead, remember?" And besides, he thought to himself, Potter's family.

Shiro grunted in agreement.

Lupin frowned. "And how, exactly, do you plan on following us without a broom?"

He shrugged. "You'll see soon enough. By the way, I think that was your signal," he said, pointing up to the sky, where a shower of red sparks had appeared among the stars.

Lupin swore softly. "Everyone! Mount your brooms!"

They did so, looking rather ridiculous in Ichigo's opinion. Harry looked eagerly up at the sky, his broom practically vibrating beneath him, excited at the prospect of being in the air again.

"That's the second signal!" Lupin shouted as another set of sparks, green this time, flared in the night sky. "Let's move!"

Harry kicked off from the ground, relishing the feeling of the air rushing through his hair again. It had been ages since the last time he had flown… The manicured lawns of Privet Drive fell away beneath him, and for one glorious, shining moment, it felt like he had left all his problems – Voldemort, the hearing, Dumbledore's stony silence – behind him at Number Four. He did a roll in midair and let out a great whoop of joy that disappeared into the howling of wind and the flapping of wizard's robes.

"Having fun?"

Harry's head turned so fast he could have sworn he heard a crack in his neck, and his broom dropped a few feet in shock. There was Ichigo, half a mile up in the sky, keeping pace with the brooms and running as easily as if he had been on solid ground rather that thin air. Moody glared at the strange teen darkly, and the circling rescue-party members gaped openly.

"You – how—" Harry spluttered, eyes round as saucers. "How'd you get up here?"

Ichigo only grinned before jumping ahead to adjust one of the ropes binding Harry's trunk to Tonks' broom.

Harry shook his head in bewilderment. The group kept moving, altering their course every few minutes as per Moody's directions. Harry shivered; his hands felt like they had been coated in ice. It seemed like they had been flying for hours. The sun, which had been low on the horizon when they'd left Privet Drive, had long since dropped out of sight, plunging the world into darkness. Tiny, shimmering lights spread out below them, mirroring the stars above.

It would have been beautiful, Harry thought, if he weren't in the middle of freezing to death.

"We ought to double back for a bit, just to make sure we're not being followed," Moody grumbled. "Everyone! Make a hard one-eighty—"

"Are you mad, Mad-Eye?!" Tonks shouted from the front. "We're all frozen to our brooms here! If we keep going off course, we won't make it 'til next week, and we're nearly there already—"

"Time to start the decent!" Lupin called, pointing towards the largest patch of light yet. "Follow Tonks, Harry!"

They descended in a steep dive, the lights becoming more defined as they flew, until Harry could make out individual streetlights and car lamps, and catch glimpses of ordinary people going about their evening business through jewel-bright windows. He was eager to reach the ground; much as he loved flying, he much preferred it in the daytime. And in warm weather. And not half a mile up in the air.

They landed in an unkempt park near a row of very dirty houses, several of which had broken doors and shattered windows that glittered dully in the orange light of the streetlamps. Harry touched down beside Tonks, who was already busy untying Harry's trunk. Ichigo stepped out of the air next to him, looking around. His gaze flickered curiously between the open upstairs window of Number Eleven and the space between it and Number Thirteen beside it.

"Where are we?" Harry wondered aloud. Moody hissed for him to be quiet, pulling what looked like a silver cigarette lighter from his cloak. With a click, the nearest streetlight went out with a pop. Another click, and the next lamp went out. Several clicks later the park was completely dark, the only light coming from the windows of Number Eleven and the dim light of Moody's wand.

"That the place, jii-san?" Ichigo murmured, his eyes locked on the space between Numbers Eleven and Thirteen. "It's practically glowing. Ought to be more careful."

Moody shot him a dirty look. "Come here, boy," he growled, tugging Harry across the park and onto the sidewalk. "Read quickly and memorize." He shoved a tiny scrap of parchment into Harry's face and held his lit wand aloft, enabling the boy to read the thin, loopy handwriting by its dim light.

'The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.'

"What's the Order of—?" Harry wondered aloud, but several loud hisses silenced him almost immediately.

"Not here," whispered Lupin, while Moody snatched back the parchment and set it alight, the burning embers leaving glowing streaks across Harry's eyes as they fell. "We'll explain later. Think about what you've just read."

"But there's no—"

"There is," Ichigo said, still watching the space between Numbers Eleven and Thirteeen. "You just can't see it."

"Think, Harry."

Harry did, and the second he reached the bit about Number Twelve, a peeling black door appeared out of thin air, followed almost immediately by the dingy façade of what had plainly once been a fine row house, but that had long since fallen into a deep state of disrepair.

Harry gaped. Ichigo's eyes flickered quickly between Number Twelve and the slightly-squashed Numbers Eleven and Thirteen on either side. "So that's how it works. Clever."

"Get in," Moody growled, shoving Harry towards the door. "And keep quiet."

The group moved silently up the crumbling steps. Lupin tapped it with his wand, and with a long series of loud, metal clinks that echoed from within the building, the door creaked open. They shuffled inside, and the instant the last person – Ichigo – stepped over the threshold, the door swung shut behind him with a deep, reverberating thud, plunging the group into darkness.

"Come here," Moody growled, tapping Harry hard over the head with his wand. The disillusionment charm lifted. "Now stay still, and don't touch anything." He flicked his wand at the walls, and a second later several gas lamps flared with a soft hissing noise, illuminating the dingy hallway.

Lovely place, Ichigo observed, surveying the room. The thin, wavering light illuminated the peeling walls, molding carpet and dirty furniture, all of which seemed to somehow manage to incorporate staring, black-eyed ravens into their designs. A pair of moth-eaten curtains fluttered as if caught in a slight breeze, though the musty air was quite still. Very nice.

Shiro snorted and nudged their eyes towards the chandelier, where a solid gold crow, caked with years of accumulated dust and grime, glared down at them with eyes like chips of obsidian. No shit. I 'ate bein' watched.

Ichigo shuddered. …Agreed.

The sound of running footsteps sounded from further down the hall, and a woman with vivid red hair appeared, panting and slightly out of breath. "Oh, Harry dear, it's wonderful to see you again!" she exclaimed as quietly as she could, pulling him into a hug. Ichigo winced sympathetically as Harry's face began to turn blue – he had been on the receiving end of Inoue's bone-cracking hugs often enough to know what it felt like to slowly have the life crushed out of you (affectionately, of course).

"Er – hi, Mrs. Weasley," he choked out.

She smiled, releasing him from her death grip. "Honestly, you just keep losing weight. One of these days you're going to just wither away and then where will we be?" She sighed. "We'll have to feed you, but it'll have to wait I'm afraid. Now come along, I'll show you to your room." She pushed Harry in the general direction of the large staircase at the far end of the hall. "Come along quickly, we don't want to wake anything… They've just arrived," she added in an undertone to the group of wizards. "The meeting's already started."

They murmured interestedly and made their way to the door the red haired woman had emerged from. Ichigo paused, indecisive. Should he follow his new leads? Or stay with his cousin? Duty or family?

His dilemma was answered for him when Moody jabbed him in the side, indicating for him to follow the group into the side room. "Get in." At Ichigo's questioning eyebrow, he laughed. "You didn't seriously expect to waltz straight into the headquarters of a covert organization, after tailing its rescue party for miles, after attacking one of its most prominent and respected members and get away with it did you? Now get inside."

Ichigo couldn't really argue with that.

"…giants are still underway," a greasy-haired man was saying from a podium at the front of the room. "The death of Gurg Karkus has sent the entire tribe into a frenzy. It is still unknown whether Karkus' replacement will favor Macnair's—"

Moody marched Ichigo through the door and snapped it shut behind them. "Oi, jii-san, stop poking me, bruises are hard to heal, dammit," he muttered, shoving away the man's wand. He suddenly became very aware of a very, very tense silence that had filled the room. Ichigo looked up to find the entirety of the 'covert organization' as Moody had called it, some thirty or forty wizards and witches, all staring at him with wide eyes.

"Um… hi?"


Notes:

jii-: old man


Greetings to you all.

As promised, here is chapter three. I can only pray it has lived up to everyone's expectations.

A THOUSAND THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO READ/REVIEWED! Special thanks to Exclamated, willi890, Escapedslave99, Corisanna, KianaNic, Jiyle, deathnoteno1fan-codegeasslover, TsukiakariNoMichi, JessieKage, wind daffodil kyuuketsuki-san, FanFictionFan345, Fat ppl are harder to kidnap, Kuro-Ookami4, JNottle, dragonXXforte, PantheramonX, and Basia Orci for their lovely reviews. You all have my deepest thanks.

Now, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that this is the last of the two/three-day updates. Not because I have nothing else written, but rather because I would prefer to maintain a paranoidly large buffer zone between posted chapters and typed/edited chapters. This means that the next update will be around the time I finish chapter sixteen... whenever that will be. I cannot give you an exact date, because I don't know how my schedule will work out in the next few weeks. Sadly, this little thing called 'real life' tends to interfere with the writing process. My apologies.

This does, however, bring me to the good news. A chapter takes approximately six weeks to write, so this story will most likely be updated in that time period. If, however, I fail to complete a new chapter in that time, I will still post the next chapter after eight weeks. This means that there will most definately be updates every two months, or possibly earlier.

I do apologize for the inconvenience, but I figure regular updates - even if there is a long wait between them - are preferable to sporadic ones. If for some reason there isn't a new chapter after two months, feel free to bring out the torches and pitchforks.

I think that about wraps it up for this chapter. Please follow the little blue link if you wish to leave a comment. Love it, hate it, think it should burn in hell, let me know.

Much love,
Nesarna
10/8/10


EDIT: NEVERMIND, THE ABOVE IS VOID AS OF 10/10/10. -Nesarna