I had more planned for this chapter (including the lime scene I promised some of you), but it just got so big. I needed to split things up.

Thanks to those of you who took the time to review.

10. Chapter Ten

"Will Potter." The man hurriedly stuck out a hand, his expression openly intrigued and fascinated. "I don't think I had any drunken affairs yet, so that leaves my father as your possible sire." He flashed a teasing grin, taking in Harry's appearance with a spellbound eye.

Harry had searched many years for his ancestors before resigning himself to the fact that there weren't in any of his timelines. Of course, the years he had looked were far earlier than 1889, and the name 'Potter' was most likely not part of pure-blood lineage as of yet. Now that Death explained, in so little words, that Harry couldn't undo his current predicament, he had no driven ambition to go out of his way and discover if Will Potter had possession of an Invisibility Cloak.

Ironic, really, that an ancestor would promptly fall into his lap when he no longer desired it.

"I would say that's a practical assumption if my mother wasn't such a prig," Harry replied, adopting a demeanor of natural good-heartedness. He shook his ancestor's hand, grinning when the man appeared taken aback at his French accent. "Henri Roux, it's a pleasure to meet you. And this is my cousin, Jules Roux." Harry motioned to Sebastian with a tilt of his head.

"A pleasure," Sebastian crooned as he shook Will's hand.

Harry watched the two thoughtfully. Sebastian had claimed that the Dark Lord had smelt similar to Harry. Could this be their Dark Lord, who'd conveniently bumped into Harry? It was something to keep in mind. As much as he'd like an inside source, he had to be mindful that Will could be the enemy despite how outgoing he appeared.

Will was engrossed with Sebastian for all of two seconds before he turned back to Harry. "You don't have glasses, your features are a bit sharper, and your hair is tamer, but you could definitely pass for a Potter." He tapped his glasses, which were as round as the ones Harry once wore before he corrected his eyesight. "And your eye color, of course."

Harry simply smiled, wondering how Will was related to him. He'd never know, of course, but he could speculate. "My father looked much like you," he informed truthfully. "Pure-bloods are all related to one another, I'm sure we have a common ancestor somewhere down the line." He let a few seconds pass before changing the subject. "Are you part of the Ministry?"

Will nodded earnestly. He looked over his shoulder, searching for a face in the crowd. "I am an Auror," he replied distractedly, turning back to Harry. "I've been with the Auror Department for four years now. And yourself? You're from France, clearly."

"We're here to investigate a possible cover-up by the Ministry," Sebastian intervened smoothly. Clearly, he wasn't about to conform to Harry's French cover story. "We are not from France. We're right here from Britain."

Harry seethed, extremely insulted and frustrated. He turned to look at the demon, his eyes clearly expressing his ire. Sebastian hardly seemed intimidated by Harry, if anything he was amused. The tall frame leaned down and pressed his lips near Harry's ear. Fortunately, he was on the other side of Will's close observance.

"We need a source inside the Auror Department, do we not?" Sebastian whispered lightly. "Besides, he's utterly fascinated with you and his soul is rather bland for my tastes. I don't sense any foreseen trickery from him." And without further warning, the demon's tongue darted out and licked Harry's ear possessively.

The immortal teen nonchalantly leaned away and turned back to Will. Much to his surprise, the man appeared solemn and not at all shocked at Sebastian's confession. Harry quirked an eyebrow and surveyed the man closely, suspiciously. A revelation like that should have taken even the most skilled actor aback.

"You don't seem surprised," Harry drawled darkly, uncertain if he could rely on Sebastian's demonic instincts.

Will curled his fist and used it to muffle his throat clearing. "I should have expected it in the first place, actually." He ran a hand through his hair, effectively messing it up further. He seemed almost bashful gesture before he quickly converted back to grave professionalism. "He said I would know when I'd see you, I guess he was right."

"Who is 'he'?" Harry asked quietly with a hint of lethality.

Slowly, he altered his posture. To an untrained eye, he'd just be shifting his weight from one leg to the other, only, he was getting ready to attack if necessary. His arms crossed casually over his chest, but his hand crept up his sleeve where his wand was. It would take less than a second to draw it if needed.

"Thomas Fink. He was the one who invited you to the ball."

It took Harry a brief moment to put a face with the name. He remembered a man with floppy blond hair and dark blue eyes, a man who always trailed after Minister Brown. Thomas Fink was a top Auror for the Ministry and the last time Harry had seen him, the Auror had been rather hostile toward him. He had doubted Harry's abilities to hunt after the Dark Lord and had challenged him to a duel.

"Explain," Harry demanded. His fingers only brushed the Elder Wand, yet it was enough to spring a subtle privacy ward around them. No one would be the wisest.

Will nodded sharply, as if detecting the ward and acknowledging Harry's quick thinking. "I've noticed discrepancies around the Ministry as of late; evidence against the Dark Lord's followers going missing or inconclusive, shifty colleagues, missing Aurors, and many conversations behind closed doors involving the Minister." He looked over Harry's shoulder. "Auror Fink has noticed it just as well and he wanted me to speak to you."

Casually, Harry glanced over his shoulder. Through the masses of chatting witches and wizards, Harry's eyes pinpointed Minister Brown and Auror Fink. Thomas Fink stared at Harry from over his goblet before turning away and integrating himself back into the conversation. Standing next to him was Minister Brown. The man was chuckling with a redhead, a certain redhead Harry knew quite well.

His shoulders stiffened and bloodlust raced through his veins. While many experienced bloodlust and associated it with heat, Harry associated it with ice. His blood turned cold and his vision tunneled. He preened under the rejuvenating feeling of lust and the tantalizing taste of need. It had only been a few hours ago since he'd engaged the three Aurors in battle, but it was never too early to have another round.

"The redhead," Harry stated with a slight slur. "Who is the redhead?" He knew the redheaded Auror was the one directly responsible for ordering the three Auror's to eliminate Rosa Quileute's parents, consequently making him a very large lead in Harry's book.

Will took a step back, uncertain at the dark, predator-like expression on Harry's face. The immortal wizard exhaled calmly, though it sounded more like a hiss. He touched his fingertips to the crown of his forehead to calm himself. Expertly, he pulled his features back into one of cool regard.

"Forgive me," Harry murmured tightly, looking back up at the man who was a few inches taller than himself. "But I suspect that man is a rogue Auror." He didn't want to give any details away. If he did, he would have to explain how he got his information. Not only did he not trust this man, no matter his ancestry, but it was neither the time nor the place.

"I wager that your suspicions are correct," Will Potter relented, casting one wary glance at Harry. "His name is Mark Winter, one of the Minister's pet Aurors and closest consultant. Minister Brown surrounds himself with a ring of Aurors. Thomas Fink, the Auror who invited you to the ball, is trying to maneuver his way in with the others. It's why he can't be seen talking to you. Thomas told me about you. He said Minister Brown is keeping a sharp eye on your movements. Even though he enlisted in your services, he refuses to trust you with any information."

"And what exactly is it that you want?" Harry's lips quirked. "What do you think are my services?"

Potter shifted, the only sign of his comfort level. "Our hands are tied," he explained. "We can only do so much with dirty politics in charge, which is why Thomas and I believe an outside force will work best. If you can discover what they're hiding, or any wrongdoings, you can eliminate them more effectively than we can."

Next to Harry, Sebastian gave a breathless laugh. "I dare say he thinks you're an assassin." The demon's crimson eyes glittered down at Harry.

"Isn't that what you are?" Will Potter inquired stiffly, as if taking Sebastian's statement as inclination that his belief was wrong. "I—we believed the Minister hired an independent assassin to eliminate the Dark Lord."

Harry tossed his head, smiling darkly. "I suppose you could label me as such, though I've never been called that before." He saw the confusion in Will's eyes and realized that he should have just accepted the label. It was much easier than explaining that he was simply bored and hunting Dark Lord's was something to pass the time. "If I understand you correctly, you want me to eliminate the Minister and his 'pet Aurors'—"

Potter quickly cut him off, appearing shocked at the words. "No," he all but barked. "We'd want the hard evidence in our hands in order to take down everyone involved, to weed out the corruption in the Ministry. I misspoke earlier. When I said 'eliminate them', I meant eliminate them from their positions of power."

"An assassin does not push paper around, Mr. Potter," Harry drawled, inwardly gleeful at successfully imitating Severus Snape. Will Potter was young enough—green enough— to flush at the tone and the words. "My services are used to truly eliminate threats. Unlike most others, I have no strings involved, which allows me to get away without being questioned or held responsible."

The other Potter glanced at Sebastian, as if trying to get support. He was only met with an impassive stare. "I understand the nature of your services," the man replied, lifting his chin and his eyes alighting with valor. "But I'm going to ask you, pay you, to find out the details of the Minister's deceit and the others involved. I don't want you slaughtering everyone who stands against you. We need that evidence to rebuild our government. I can help you every step of the way."

He stared at the man who was only a few years older than Harry's physical age. It took him a long while to identify the flushed cheeks and the eyes that were aglow with determination and a great deal of stubbornness. When he finally identified it, Harry's skin washed cold. Will Potter had adapted an eerily similar expression that Harry often wore in his younger years, during a time when he was so certain of wrong and right, good and evil. It was a time when Harry had only one life to savor, to cherish, to defend. He knew what he had to do and he went after it with blind determination.

Over the years, the line between good and evil had blurred and merged together. It was somewhat refreshing to see that stability once again, even if it was on someone else.

Harry became aware of Sebastian's heavy gaze and he wondered what the demon could possibly see. "You haven't commented on my age," Harry suddenly observed, more curious than anything. Everyone commented on how young he was, yet Will Potter was oddly silent on the subject.

The man blinked, as if deterred by the sudden change of topic. "Appearance is superficial. Your eyes are older and your power is very strong." Will leaned closer. "Others may think it is your aura, but a trained eye knows it's your magic. It's cultivated and sophisticated, definitely refined. That kind of magic is something only a capable wizard possesses. Even if you are young, you're capable of accomplishing your responsibilities."

It was Harry's turn to be surprised and he pointedly ignored the way Sebastian flashed him a knowing smirk. "I admire your solid principles," he admitted, bringing the conversation back around to the original topic. "I will try to give you hard evidence if there is something the Minister is up to, but I cannot guarantee you anything."

He watched the silent struggle on Will's face, a bit disappointed that the man trusted him enough to ask for his blind help. Then again, Harry once experienced that desperation before. The situation with the Ministry and the Dark Lord was extremely disconcerting.

"However," Harry started, drawing the man's quick attention. "I think you already knew that, otherwise you would have never agreed with Thomas Fink about contracting with me. There is a reason you can't find out the things you need to know. The Minister and his lapdogs are covering their tracks especially well and you need someone with just as much backwards ethics to uncover what they're hiding."

Reluctantly, Potter nodded and exhaled in resignation. "I understand. Truthfully, I was hesitant at first to agree with Thomas about hiring outside help," he said, as if clearing his goodwill and making himself feel better by calling Harry 'help' rather than 'an assassin'. "But the situation at the Ministry has gotten extremely unnerving."

"Is there any specifics as to what you've noticed?" Sebastian inquired, tired of giving Harry the lead. "There must be something substantial you can give us."

"Not entirely," Potter scratched the back of his neck in unease. His eyes darted between Sebastian and Harry, as if wondering who was easier to look in the eye. In the end, he decided to stick with Harry, his instincts too unnerved with Sebastian. "There was a quadrant of Aurors, younger trainees who disappeared entirely. Mark Winters claims they're on a mission, but no one's been able to get in contact with them."

"We're familiar with them," Harry supplied, glad to know he was right in assuming the Minister had wanted those five wizards and witches dead. "Why this group?" he pressed. "What reason were you given to their mission? Surely you must have thought it unusual to have trainees leave together for an extended period of time."

"Of course I did," the man retorted stiffly. "From what I've been able to gather, they were sent into the Muggle world to observe suspicious behavior. The Minister claims a few noblemen had their hands in dodgy business and sent surveillance."

"All five of them have been killed."

Will straightened at Sebastian's admission, but nodded nonetheless. "I figured as much. No one was informed of where they were relocated to, which families they were assigned to. I only knew they were sent to Muggle noblemen from the whispers around the Ministry. It was never formally confirmed and their deaths were never reported."

He seemed truly upset over the information, Harry noted. "And what do you think?" he pressed, a wry grin in place. "Do you think they were assigned to the Muggle world for surveillance? Or to silence them permanently?"

Potter pressed his eyes closed, a gesture that could be seen by all the guests. He certainly didn't veil his reactions very well. "Silence them. They must have uncovered what the Minister is trying so hard to cover up."

It was what Harry assumed. If that were the case, then the Queen could be completely innocent in all this. There was nothing tying her to any of the crimes like there was with the Minister. Even if Harry had nothing solid, he knew Minister Brown was carrying something on his shoulders. However, if the Queen wasn't involved, then why were those Muggle noblemen dead? Why were those five families targeted?

He had another headache. Whatever plan he had formulated was shattered. He could not integrate himself into the Ministry and pry answers from the Minister, simply because Will Potter had already confirmed the man did not trust him. As far as the Dark Lord went, Harry needed to practice subtleness. His earlier plan of luring the Dark Lord to him was instantly debunked when the man proved too cunning, too safe.

Harry needed to do the same.

"Won't you be suspected for talking to me?" Harry inquired after a moment's time. He glanced to the side as a female wandered closer to them, only to veer off to the side and alter her direction. It was the privacy ward Harry had put up. The guests would find it unnecessary to approach their general vicinity.

However, the ward wouldn't stop people from taking notice. Nonchalantly, Harry glanced over his shoulder, noticing the Minister was no longer in his original spot.

"Can they blame me?" Potter adjusted his glasses. "We look similar. We are trading family histories." He shrugged. "Besides, this is the last time we will be seen in public together. You can owl me and I will inform you where I live. We can correspond comfortably there."

"My," Harry purred a bit mockingly, "such trust." Sebastian leered next to him in agreement.

"I'm a good judge of character," Potter declared, raising his chin as if he were defending his integrity. "As well, I am willing to pay you whatever you want."

Harry's eyes turned half-lidded at the prospect of being ruled by money. He didn't want gold. If he so needed it, he could take it from Ciel. Moreover, he didn't want Will Potter to think he was so easily swayed. "I don't require payment. Offhand," he added as an afterthought. "But I do require a favor from you. I have yet to decide what I want, but you will most definitely follow through."

Being a good sport, Will nodded his consent. "It was pleasure to meet you both…" he trailed off, clearly wanting a name from both of them now that their French cover was blown.

"Harrison Evans," Harry replied evenly. "And this is Sebastian."

Pleased with the compliance, but suspicious that he was being lied to once again, Potter only inclined his head in thanks. "We will keep in touch." As if carrying the world's fate on his shoulders, Will turned on his heels and retreated past the privacy ward, successfully breaking it.

Harry looked after him, still not trusting the man. Potter had no solid evidence of the happenings of the Ministry. While inside help was useful, it was worthless if that source was a bottomless pit of dry information. At least it was confirmed that Minister Brown was behind something. How the Queen and the Dark Lord tied into all this was still a mystery.

A restraining hand suddenly curled around Harry's throat. "I don't like how fascinated he was in you." Sebastian leaned down and took Harry's earlobe in his mouth. "You're mine."

The statement could have been laughable if it had been any other person who'd spoken it. Harry thought possessiveness was inane. However, when it came from a demon, who had the ability to strike fear in the most courageous of people, it gave Harry a different prospective. He briefly wondered how Sebastian and Death would interact with one another when both entities believed to have a claim on Harry's soul. It was something Harry wanted to avoid at all costs. He did not favor drama like that.

"Stop being ridiculous," Harry scolded, trying to toss his head from the demon's hold. "He's only interested because I resemble the Potter family."

With intentional slowness, Sebastian withdrew his hand. "Were you ever that bland?" he asked curiously.

Harry's lips curled into a genuine smile at the question. "I imagine I was," he responded, amused. "Don't be so harsh. I admire his spirit."

Sebastian's eyes became half-lidded with ire. "That's only because he complimented you." The demon paused a good while, watching Harry with intrigue. "If I compliment you more often, will you begin to like me?"

My, but Sebastian was rather humorous tonight. Harry didn't know if the demon was serious, or genuinely interested in the answer. "Hmm," he mused for fun, "it wouldn't hurt to try, now would it?"

Instead of acknowledging Harry's humor with his own, Sebastian bowed at the waist and looked pensively into Harry's eyes. "You're beautiful when your eyes are alive."

Extremely uncomfortable, Harry shifted and grimaced. "I changed my mind. I like you better when you don't sound like Gilderoy Lockhart admiring himself in the mirror." He tossed a look at Sebastian's lack of comprehension. "Inside joke," he explained hastily.

"If you're not comfortable with words, then I can show you other ways I admire you," the demon breathed huskily, reaching out and drawing a finger down Harry's throat and inching it past the collar of his dress robes. "You would never have to rely on inconsequential compliments to sate you."

"That's enough," Harry warned, slapping Sebastian's hand away. "We are in public, if you hadn't noticed." He turned his head, locking eyes with a startled witch. Her eyes were wide as she looked between the two males in a compromising situation. "Do you have problem?" he snapped at her.

"That's hardly the distinguished pure-blood act you insisted we charade around with," Sebastian commented lightly, watching as the female walked away.

"What's the point of keeping any charade if your demon companion insists on debunking it to the first person we come across?" Harry turned on his feet and gazed across the hall. He couldn't help but to study the guests in depth for the very first time that night.

Women were dressed in gowns that dripped with jewels and frilly lace. Their faces were powdered white, pale like a porcelain doll's complexion. Even if some of them were born with short, stubby necks, they somehow kept their necks arched into swan-like arches. They giggled and they flirted with prospective males, performing just the simplest of tasks with cultured grace.

Their male counterparts were hardly any better. Their robes were just as lacy and extravagant, though their colors and cuts were masculine. When they weren't dancing, they were conversing amongst each other, their chests puffed out and their shoulders held back with seasoned breeding.

Harry had a sour taste in his mouth as he watched the spectacle. He would never be able to fit in with these kind of people.

Green eyes searched further and finally landed on the Minister and his redheaded companion. They had moved into a thicker crowd, surrounded from every possible angle. It was too much of a crowd for Harry to wiggle through. Even if he had planned on speaking to the Minister or ambushing the redheaded Auror, the task would prove impossible.

In the thick of the crowd, Harry suddenly spotted a blond man with sharp features and a face that could be Lucius' doppelganger.

He had nothing else to accomplish at the ball itself. His prey was protected at the moment and he had already established a shaky connection inside the Ministry. Harry thought he'd been productive enough for the evening. Now it was time for some fun.

"Sebastian," Harry called lightly, his tone level despite the sudden spike of excitement. "I think it's time we invite ourselves to a tour around the manor."

Deliver Us

Malfoy manor was like Knockturn Alley in its shocking variety of Dark Artifacts. Harry had to keep his curiosity and excitement under control, reminding himself not to touch things simply because they appeared irresistibly cool.

A ward-detecting spell Harry had invented a few decades ago was cast over his eyes, allowing him to lead the way through Malfoy's manor undetected. He'd encountered a few sensors that would alert to intruders. Those wards were bright purple and stretched from one wall to the other, looking especially like tripwires in the Muggle world. They were easy enough to disable, at least long enough to let Sebastian and Harry pass.

So far, they'd only encountered a few artifacts warded behind powerful charms and jinxes. Once Harry discovered what they were, he hissed at their uselessness. Yes, the Ministry would be interested to know of the different potions and wicked artifacts Malfoy possessed, but they weren't proof of anything.

Harry briefly wondered what he was looking for. What had he expected to find? The Dark Lord making himself at home in the dungeons?

"The Dark Lord knows my surname is Potter," Harry murmured to Sebastian, who was walking behind him. "I don't know how safe it is to use Will Potter as our ally. It may affect our safetyand his safety."

Silence came from behind him, causing Harry to whirl around, his wand poised and ready just in case Sebastian had been taken off guard by an enemy. He stared at the scene in front of him, shocked speechless for all the wrong reasons. "W-what the bloody hell are you doing, demon?!"

Sebastian was crouched in front of a cat, completely engrossed with the feline and ignorant to Harry's fuming ire. He was smiling pleasantly as he held out a piece of thread from his dress robes. With quick jerks of his hand, he taunted the cat with it. The animal swatted at it with intense concentration, its little paws and front legs flailing to capture the loose thread. With each exhalation, Harry could hear the deep, thundering purr of the animal.

"For… Merlin's sake." Harry lowered his wand and pressed a restraining hand to his forehead. It was things like this that made Harry wonder about Malphas' sanity and true lethality. The demon he had encountered last night in the library hardly compared to this—this abomination.

Just as he made a move to escape the dungeons and venture toward the upper levels, a shimmering light snagged his attention. He turned, squinting into the dark corridor at a single, inconspicuous door. A faint, web-like ward covered the door, its blue strands dull and all but blending in with its surroundings. It was a beautiful ward, but Harry recognized it for what it was.

It was unlikely that Elias Malfoy entered the room very often, as this type of ward was extremely dark and required a sacrifice each time he entered.

Harry stared at it stubbornly. He couldn't distinguish if it required a human sacrifice or any sacrifice. Slowly, he turned his eyes back to the cat Sebastian was engaging. It wasn't unusual for cats to roam their master's house, but Malfoy didn't strike Harry as the type of wizard to have a cat wandering the dungeons. Moreover, this cat had matted brown fur. If Malfoy wanted it for a pet, he'd have a striking white cat with blue eyes, he assumed.

No. This cat was put down here for Malfoy's convenience.

"Sebastian," he called for the demon's attention. When the butler continued to play with the bloody cat, Harry fumed. "Malphas," he hissed darkly.

That got the demon's attention. His neck snapped up and he leveled Harry with a piercing gaze. The gleam in his eyes brightened into dark greed. "I do love it when you speak my name."

"Please bring the cat over here," he requested as lightly as he could, unnerved with the way the crimson eyes were watching him with unwavering attentiveness. "I need to use it to unlock the ward around the door."

Sebastian scooped the cat off the ground and held it possessively against his chest "I won't let the malicious wizard touch you," the demon promised into the feline's ear, cradling the animal close.

"You're kidding me, right?" Harry raised an eyebrow, almost nauseated with the demon's lack of masculinity. "My respect for you just plummeted to levels I didn't even know existed."

Something akin to true humor ghosted across Sebastian's face before he covered it with sly consideration. "What will I get in return?" He hugged the cat closer, almost suffocating it with his hold. The feline's eyes bulged from its skull and it emitted a choked meow.

Harry shifted, reaching toward it and hoping the demon didn't kill it before necessary. "I'm not giving you a damn thing. Give me the bloody cat!"

Sebastian appeared directly in front of Harry a second later, pressing the younger male against the wall with his body. The cat was pressed between them and could do nothing but emit low, angry meows. "I want you to say my name," he ordered. "Moan it. Right in my ear. I want a taste of—"

"Sebastian." Harry spoke directly in his ear, irritated beyond recognition.

The demon tsked in reproof and angled his body ever so slightly away from Harry. It was clear he would do his damnest to keep the cat away from him, no matter what they could accomplish if they sacrificed it. "You know what name I want to hear. And if you consider that a moan, I'm afraid we'll both be in for a rude awakening when we mate."

Harry breathed heavily through his nose and tried to control his rage. He didn't have time for this, yet Sebastian insisted on being difficult. Either the demon enjoyed frustrating Harry or this was some ploy of his to get a tickle of excitement.

Biting his tongue, Harry stood on his tiptoes and neared Sebastian's ear. He could do this. One simple… "Malphas."

His stomach tightened as the name slipped past his lips. For some unexplainable reason, his pulse raced, as if speaking the demon's true name was the same as seeing Malphas in his demonic form. But Sebastian was simply Sebastian, unchanged and still in human form. A hot and heavy sensation dropped to the pit of his stomach and made his groin twitch in satisfaction.

The only thing that stopped Harry from ridiculing himself was the reaction he got out of Sebastian. The demon's eyes turned half-lidded with pleasure and a fang pricked his bottom lip.

"That's more like it," he croaked huskily.

Before Harry knew it, he was holding a struggling cat in his arms. It hissed and clawed at him, scarred from being held so tightly by Sebastian. Not wasting another minute, Harry whirled around and faced the door. Holding the cat in one arm and his wand in the other, Harry coaxed the web-like ward alive.

It shimmered brightly, sensing its activation and searching for its meal. Carefully, Harry held the cat out, offering it to the ward. A few strands from the web suddenly shot out and curled around the offered meal. As soon as Harry was sure the ward had a solid hold on the cat, he released the animal and backed up. It would spell disaster if the strings made contact with his skin.

He watched as the dim blue ward brightened to gold as it hugged the cat against the door and sucked the life force from the feline. The cat only struggled briefly before it slackened, its body engulfed and glowing from the stringy strands of magic. Just as the cat exhaled one last time, the door unlatched and clicked open.

The door groaned as it was pushed open by an invisible hand, leading into nothing but darkness. Harry hesitated just for a moment, but it was all the time Sebastian needed to enter before him. Not willing to stand by and wait, Harry followed, flicking his wand and lighting it with a lumos. A moment later, his lighting charm proved to be pointless as torches activated the moment they detected motion.

Flames roared to life and shed light across the enormous room. Harry stood next to Sebastian, staring at the sheer size. It was at least half the size of a Quidditch pitch, if not slightly more. Instead of stone floors like the rest of the dungeons, light-colored cement took its place. The ceiling was surprisingly high and wooden crates filled the majority of the room.

It appeared like a Muggle warehouse, Harry realized dimly.

He frowned and squinted, trying to see any wards or oddities that a normal eye would miss. He only saw the Malfoy wards that webbed and crisscrossed across the room in white streaks, a typical ward pure-bloods placed around their homes. It prevented people from Apparating inside the home and Disapparating outside.

"What could these boxes possibly be hiding?" Sebastian mused.

Harry turned, watching as the demon reached for one of the boxes with a gloved hand. "Stop!" he ordered sharply when he saw a fold of magic ripple at Sebastian's touch. "Something isn't right."

Sebastian complied, pulling his hand away and watching as Harry neared the crate of boxes. From the way the air moved with Sebastian's touch, it almost appeared like a curtain rustling from a breeze. He'd seen it before. It was an illusion. These boxes, they weren't really here. He voiced his thoughts to Sebastian.

The demon turned to him with a perfectly raised eyebrow. "Then what's underneath the illusion?"

Unnerved, Harry raised the Elder Wand. "I guess we'll find out."

Never one for subtly, Harry pulled at the illusion and ripped it away all in one go. He realized a second later that his impatience was one of his downfalls. If he had investigated the elaborate illusion before tugging it away, he would have realized that the floor was also an illusion and not something he should have been standing on when dismantling the magic.

He gave a choked gasp as he fell, his legs flailing and his heart dropping with the unexpected descent. Before he could go much further, a hand reached out and curled around his wrist, stopping his fall. Startled, he looked up, only to realize that Sebastian had been standing at the edge of the illusion when Harry had dismantled it and was able to find footing on solid ground.

The demon's crimson eyes were angled down, and oddly enough, they weren't focused on Harry but on the depths below. Surprise clouded his features and for Sebastian to be surprised…

Still dangled from the demon's reach, Harry jerked his head down in order to see what had caught the butler's attention. His pulse stopped and shock reverberated across his body. There were so many! So many pairs of lifeless eyes that stared up at Harry, their faces slack with death.

"Merlin," Harry whispered, at a loss for words and logical.

There had to be hundreds of corpses, hundreds of men and women, children, who were discarded into the pit. Most of their limbs were strewed awkwardly away from their torsos, entwining with their neighbors' bodies or weighted down by the ones above them. Some corpses were newer than the others were. The older corpses were decomposing, the skin around their mouths all but disintegrating and exposing their gaping jaws.

It looked like a rubbish pit for disposed and broken dolls.

However, the smell was what ruined that comparison. Harry hunched his shoulders and gagged, coughing and whimpering as the putrid odor stung his nose and lungs. He was subconsciously aware of Sebastian pulling him up and onto solid ground. It took Harry a moment to realize Sebastian was speaking.

"…a few months ago. Undertaker was responsible."

"Undertaker?" Harry slurred, wiping the spit from the corner of his mouth. "What did you say?"

Sebastian looked mildly displeased at Harry's disorientation. "The young master and I uncovered something similar a few months ago on a voyage. An underground society, consisting of upper-rank doctors, were practicing experiments on corpses, trying to raise them from the dead. They succeeded in animating the corpses, but because they had no soul, they were reverted to zombie-like creatures that preyed on the living."

Harry pushed himself off the ground and stood. "Is this what you mentioned in Undertaker's shop? About him experimenting with immortality?" He turned away from the pit and pressed a reassuring hand to his temple. "How is Undertaker responsible for what happened in the Muggle world? You said it was a society that—"

"The true culprit was Undertaker," Sebastian interrupted. "He added fake memories to the corpses' Cinematic Records in order to animate them."

"Cinematic Records?" Harry shook his head. "Never mind."

He knew what Cinematic Records were, thanks to his time with Undertaker. Every being, every creature, possessed one. It was a simple string of memories a shinigami could review when they came to collect and review the souls. The Cinematic Record showed the shinigami recollections of an individual's memories in the form of a brief movie. Once the shinigami collects the soul, the Record reaches its 'end mark'.

According to Sebastian, Undertaker used his shinigami abilities to add more memories—fake memories— on to the corpses' Record, fooling the dead body into thinking it was still living. In turn, Undertaker thought he could restore the dead back to the living. However, did he truly think he could accomplish such a task? Undertaker wasn't an idiot. He knew those corpses' souls had already passed on. They would never truly be 'whole' without their soul.

Unless, of course, he was still determined to bring back his lost son. The thought of Undertaker's desperation made Harry cold.

"Undertaker may have his ways to animate corpses, but it sounds oddly like necromancy magic to me," Harry explained sullenly. He angled his head down to look at the pit of corpses. "We call them Inferi in the Wizarding world. They're created by Dark Lords for the purpose of serving his army."

He snapped his neck around and surveyed Sebastian closely. "How many of those corpses did Undertaker create?"

"Hundreds," Sebastian supplied. "A similar number that lies in that pit."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, doubt licking at him. "I find it hard to believe that Undertaker played with each of those corpses' Cinematic Records individually. We have to consider the fact that he might have had assistance."

"Magic," Sebastian concluded, catching Harry's line of thought. "You think Undertaker was working with the Dark Lord to create an army? But for what possible reason?"

"Has Undertaker ever done anything that is rationalized?" Harry asked dryly, though it was hard to find amusement in a situation like this. "For a shinigami, Undertaker is unusually obsessed with death and immortality. He had a family once," he said softly. "Having attachments like that is against the shinigami code. He was unable to save his son from a sort of illness…" he trailed off, knowing now was not the time to discuss Undertaker's past.

"And Claudia?" Sebastian inquired. His eyes were sharp as they looked at Harry. "Claudia was his lover, correct? You never mentioned that he was unable to save her, yet I know she is dead."

Harry's shoulders stiffened and he motioned to the pit, changing the topic entirely. "We'll need to talk to Undertaker and get answers out of him." He remembered Undertaker's sly warning that Harry would be back for more answers. That damn shinigami was a pain in his arse.

"And in the meantime?"

Green eyes slowly slid from Sebastian back to the faces inside the pit. He knew what the demon was insinuating. The corpses were inactive at the moment, but they were a threat.

"You will look into the eyes of humanity and wonder how you could ever be associated with such a devastating, sad race." Death's words came back to Harry as he stood at the edge of the pit. Was this was Death was talking about, hinting at? Harry had seen Inferius before. While it was sad, disgusting, it certainly wasn't as shocking as Death made it out to be. Unless… unless this wasn't what he had been speaking of, only part.

"Yes," Harry responded dully to Sebastian's concealed inquiry. "We need to destroy them."

"Fire should do the trick, I think."

Harry turned, surprised to find Sebastian making beckoning gestures toward the torches on the walls. The fire exploded in a controlled wall of flame under the demon's ministrations. As if charmed by Sebastian, the waterfall of fire slithered toward him, endless in its supply of flames. Harry would never admit it to anyone, but Sebastian looked bloody brilliant.

With practiced ease, Sebastian beckoned the flames into the pit. Like a tidal wave, the fire roared and dived. Only, just before it had the chance to come in contact with the corpses, all the bodies disappeared in a blink of an eye.

Harry rocked to the balls of his feet and whipped his wand out, pointing it directly at the hooded figure across the other side of the pit. The figure had emerged from thin air. The wand in his stranger's hand was evidence that he had been the one to summon the pit of corpses away from the manor.

"I truly don't want to see such hard work destroyed."

The drawl was familiar, as was the blond braid that escaped the confinements of the cloak. Harry kept his own wand leveled on Elias Malfoy, staying firm and unmoving even when the door slammed shut behind him. He could feel the presence of others closing in behind him, just as he was aware of the hooded figures that had all but emerged through the walls and joined Malfoy's side.

"My Lord wants you alive," the deep, cultured voice of Malfoy informed. "But he specifically instructed us to damage and capture both yourself and the abominable pest at your side."

A sadistic smirk curled Harry's lips as he stared narrowly at his prey. "Fat chance," he whispered softly, "seeing as the pest could decapitate you before you can throw your curse."

It was Malfoy's turned to scoff and he fished out a medallion from his robes. Around him, all the hooded figures followed suit, revealing a medallion that looked suspiciously like it was constructed from lead. They were too far away for Harry to see the inscription on the medallion, but it looked suspiciously like demonology symbols, something that resembled a Faustian Contract, but not quite.

With a start, Harry realized where he had gone wrong in warding demons away. He had been relying too much on Christianity symbols and protection. While that had warded away lower-ranking demons, it had done nothing against Sebastian, who was a high-ranking entity. Demonology is what he should have used.

Throwing a quick glance at Sebastian, Harry watched as the demon lost his proud stance and adopted a hunched poise. His eyes brightened with fiery distaste and his shoulders began shifting, as if he were about to expose his wings in a matter of seconds. However, there was a shadow of hesitancy, mere proof that Malfoy really did have protection against Malphas.

"You may want to reconsider your arrogance," Malfoy supplied superiorly. "It is you who is at a disadvantage."

Malfoy took a startled step back when Harry flashed another smirk, this time with a wicked and immoral edge to it. "And that is your first mistake," Harry started coolly, "underestimating enemies that are your betters."