A/N: So. It's been a little over a year, huh? How you all still like me is beyond me after my utter fail in updating.

I would like to give a special shout-out to everyone who reviewed and gave me the proper kick in the pants to continue this thing. If it wasn't for you guys, this story would've died a LONG time ago.
Disclaimer: Eh. You know the disclaimer.

Hours. Four, to be precise. That was how long it took Ulquiorra to explain his entire life to Kurosaki. It was an experience that he never thought would happen. It was also an experience that he never wanted to happen again.

Especially since the bastard would interrupt him every few minutes to laugh hysterically. Hence, the four hours.

Than, another hour was wasted when Grimmjow showed up and tried to fight Kurosaki in a kamikaze death rematch.

If Orihime hadn't been there, it would have been hell on earth.

However, since she was there, cuddled up next to him, holding his hand and chatting in that wonderfully Orihime-ish way, it wasn't too bad.

Kurosaki sighed. "Man...so much paperwork. I mean, why do I have to be the poor unfortunate bastard to lobby for you people?" Ulquiorra and Grimmjow blinked. "...Huh?" was Grimmjow's adequate response. Kurosaki rolled his eyes. "You guys are British and, dear GOD, French citizens. You're under the jurisdiction of Avalon and Ciel de France...or whatever it's called." Kurosaki muttered under his breath after slaughtering the French language, judging by how Ulquiorra and Kaien had to hold the former blue-head from jumping and beating the crap out of the carrot topped Captain. "Uh, anyway, you're supposed to go to your respective regions of the afterlife when you kick the bucket," Kurosaki continued, "but your past life/future life/whatever-the-hell-is-going-on-with-you has such strong ties to the Japanese Soul Society, so it complicates things."

"How complicated?" Ulquiorra asked suspiciously, pulling his woman closer to him.

"It means, that you two are kinda...up for grabs." Kurosaki said awkwardly, scratching his head. "What with being former Espada, and Ulquiorra being the "Boy Who Lived", which is a stupid-ass name by the way-" Ulquiorra managed to glare at him stoically somehow, "-and all, you guys are pretty valuable to the undead community. So, all three regions are sorta fighting over where you eventually end up."

A pause.

"...There...isn't a lot I can say to that."

"...Yeah..."

"..."

"..."

"...So...you guys are killing some Dark Wizard or something?"

"...Yes..."

"...

"...Uh, anything happen in Soul Society lately?"

"Had a Quincy invasion that nearly killed us all."

"...Oh."

"...Uh, got some new trees for the compound and stuff."

"...Kurosaki?"

"Yeah?"

"Go home."

Year 7: Greed

Ulquiorra didn't have much to pack. Nothing he really needed anyway. His Invisibility cloak, his wand, clothes, black nail polish, the (fake) locket, some potion ingredients/remedies, and the Marauder's Map. All could fit neatly into a simple rucksack. Spell books were obsolete, he knew everything in them already. All that was left to pack was the photo album he was leafing through. He smiled lightly, barely a smile at all, but still a smile. His black nails, paint shining from the streetlights outside, stood in stark contrast to his pale skin. Pale for a human, but healthy enough to pass as relatively normal.

His fingers lightly traced the silently laughing wizard photo of Orihime as her image giggled, holding on to his silent picture counterpart. They were standing in front of Hogwarts castle, his woman was happily clinging to his arm, her head tucked snuggly in the crook of his neck. The hand attached to the arm she was wrapped around was in his pocket, the other hand gently holding her own. He didn't glance towards the camera once, too focused on her happy face. Orihime was delighted by the idea of moving photos, and wanted to take as many pictures with him as possible (not that he objected).

Then she tried to make him food, something which he objected to strongly.

As such, he now had an entire album crammed with moving colored pictures of him and his woman, happy, smiling (in her case), walking and wandering around Hogwarts castle. Despite everything going on with his human life, Ulquiorra was happy. It was an unfamiliar concept, although not unpleasant. Ulquiorra reluctantly closed the photo album and placed it carefully within his rucksack in front of his first, and only other, photo book, which was of his parents. Although he had never known them, he still had a deep attachment to the couple. They had given him everything, and in return he loved them like any other orphaned son would. Detached love maybe, but they still had a place in his developing heart.

Hedwig hooted in her cage, flapping her wondrous wings against the bars. She wanted to fly, a desire Ulquiorra understood all too well. He walked amidst the paper littering the ground to her cage and stuck a pale finger through the bars. "Hush," he said quietly as she nipped at his finger, "we will not be here much longer."

Ulquiorra picked up a old Daily Prophet that lay on the floor next to the giant stack of newspapers. One for each day of summer. Ulquiorra thought that the Prophet was complete bullshit ever since his fifth year at Hogwarts, but at least they documented the deaths fairly well. Skimming over an obituary done by an (obvious) Dumbledore fanboy, he read the article about Rita Skeeter's new biography on the former Headmaster of Hogwarts. The former Espada's eyes narrowed as he remembered that Hermione and Skeeter's 'deal' that Skeeter wouldn't write for a whole year had expired. Fabulous.

Ulquiorra sighed and tossed the paper aside as he read about Dumbledore's dead sister and the supposed dabbling in Dark Arts.

Well, he's-er, was manipulative enough for it.

You can't be serious.

Hey, you had to at least experiment with evil to be that much a manipulative puppetmaster.

...That's a little harsh-

He's been training you since you were 11 to fight a Dark Wizard that is essentially unbeatable. Which he knew for the most part. With all odds, that he was aware of, saying you would die. Horribly.

…

…So. Dark Magic?

Just saying.

"The house? You think all of this protection, which by the way, I did not ask for, and this security and effort to save your lives is because you think a bunch of wizards want a Muggle house?" Ulquiorra asked flatly. Vernon Dursley, who had been changing his mind on cooperating with the Order of the Phoenix like a tweenage school girl, had (once again) decided to stay at Privet Drive. This time, he thought it was because the security wizards wanted Number 4. "Are you as moronic as your appearance indicates?"

"Don't you take that tone-" Petunia, his (rather homely) wife shrieked before Vernon's large ham hand waved her off. "House prices are skyrocketing around here! You want us out of the way and then you're going to do a bit of hocus-pocus and before we know it the deeds will be in your name and—"

"I hate this house." Ulquiorra said stoically. "Not to mention my godfather has offered residence at his family house multiple times. Why the hell would I want this miserable dump?" Okay, the last sentence was just to piss them off, but hygienically the Black family home was looking much better than the last two summers ago.

Then again, once Sirius had been proven innocent and was able to leave the place, he had abandoned the small dingy 'manor' to settle in little London muggle flat. Not to mention Bellatrix Lestrange, a former Black, had deducted that the Order HQ was the Black House from the affection starved Kreacher. The home had once again been completely deserted shortly after last summer, and probably once more resembled the hell hole Ulquiorra saw during the summer preceding his fifth year at Hogwarts. Ulquiorra had no idea where they were meeting now, but Grimmjow (now an official Order member) had said they had been meeting in Order member homes, bouncing from meeting place to meeting place.

"You claim," said Uncle Vernon, starting to pace furiously, "that this Lord Thing—"

"—Voldemort," said Ulquiorra dully, "and we've been through this about a hundred times already. This is fact, Dumbledore told you last year, and Kingsley and Arthur Weasley—"

Uncle Vernon stiffened and hunched over, probably remembering the time 3 years ago when Arthur Weasely visited the house; that is, by blowing up the fireplace and sending himself, Ron, Fred, and George sprawling into the living room, completely covered in ash. Or perhaps remembered when the Auror and smiling redhead visited the house earlier that summer to explain the situation to the Dursleys. Not that that went well.

"Once I turn seventeen," Ulquiorra continued, one hand in his pant pocket, the over curled in a fist cushioning his jaw as his elbow leaned on the kitchen table, "the protective magic Mother left me will become useless. Voldemort will be able to attack this place as he pleases, and it is possible he will capture you; either to torture you into telling him where I am, which you won't know, or to get me to come after him and rescue you, which I won't." He made sure to glare at them all to establish that if they got capture and tortured from not leaving the damn house, he wouldn't do jack to save them. "You're being offered very desirable protection. People would kill to get their families and loved ones this kind of service." There was a very heavy pause. The land mower that belonged to the neighbors stalled, and the room was filled with Vernon outraged heavy breathing.

"I thought there was a Ministry of Magic?" Vernon said suddenly. Ulquiorra rolled his eyes. "Completely unreliable, corrupt, and most likely infiltrated." Figures that the head of the Dursley house would place the most trust in the government, even when he hated what said government stood for.

After telling Vernon in all his radish purple faced glory that no, Kingsley was NOT available and convincing Dudley (scaring him with the truth) to accept the damn wizard protection, Ulquiorra was finally free. He sighed, and stood up from the table. "They'll be here in approximately five minutes" and with that, he left the room and went up the stairs into his bedroom. After checking his rucksack, he slid a few nuts into Hedwig's cage, meeting her frustrated glare evenly. "Soon." He said softly, before turning away and picking up the 'soul pager' Orihime had given him off his nightstand. The little bat charm she had insisted he attach to the thing tinkled lightly, resulting in a tiny amused quirk of the lips. He slid the phone into his jean front pocket and slid on a black zip-up hoodie jacket as he heard the doorbell ring. He turned and silently left the room.

Best not to leave the poor wizards with the Dursleys alone. That'd just be cruel.

"Harry Potter!" squeaked an excited voice the moment Ulquiorra entered the room. A small man in a mauve top hat was sweeping him a deep bow. "An honor, as ever!" Ulquiorra sighed. "Hello Dedalus, a pleasure to see you again. Hello to you as well Hestia," Ulquiorra greeted, dipping his head in response to her cheery wave.

"Good day to you, Harry Potter's relatives!" Dedalus exclaimed brightly, striding into the living room. The Dursleys seemed particularly unhappy at being addressed this way. "Ah, I see you're all packed. Wonderful!" the wizard continued obliviously. "Well, I'm sure Harry has told you, the plan is very simple."

Ulquiorra could see the Dursleys faith, not that there was much to begin with, die, slowly but surely as Dedalus explained the plan and praised Vernon for not being 'utterly bamboozled by all those buttons and knobs' when driving a car.

"You, Harry," Dedalus continued, not hearing the insulting tone of Vernon's mutterings, "will wait here for your guard. There has been a little change in the arrangements—"

"What do you mean?" said Ulquiorra sharply. "I thought Mad-Eye was going to come and take me by Side-Along-Apparition?" Insert shudder of utter repulsion at the thought.

"Can't do it," said Hestia tersely. "Mad-Eye will explain."

Splendid. Because THAT means nothing has gone wrong.

Ulquiorra stared at the large pink hand utterly baffled. His eyes traveled past the appendage, up the limb attached, and finally focused on the large scarlet face of Dudley Dursley. "Well," Ulquiorra said finally, slipping a pale and rather delicate hand (compared to the other) out of his pocket and into Dudley's to shake formally. "This is ah, different." Ulquiorra tilted his head the slightest in interest. "Did the Dementors change your personality by any chance?" Dudley shrugged. "Dunno. See you, Harry."

"Unlikely. But I suppose so." Ulquiorra said, releasing the hand of his childhood tormentor. He watched as the large man bumbled out of the house and noticed that he was alone with Petunia. He turned to her curiously. She huffed a bit and bit out a strange sounding "Goodbye" and began to march towards the door.

"Goodbye." Ulquiorra murmured, much to his own and her surprise. She stared at him intently, seemingly torn between leaving without another word and saying something. In the end, she jerked her head in some type of acknowledging nod and strode out the door, leaving Ulquiorra quite alone in the house he grew up in.

"Take a good look Hedwig," Ulquiorra said to the huffy owl, who was ignoring him. "Last time we shall ever be here." Depositing her cage next to his rucksack and Firebolt (which he would possibly need now that the original plot was completely shot), he walked away from the snowy owl, still speaking nostalgically.

"I used to sleep here," He continued, opening the old cupboard's, and his former bedroom's, door. He peered inside, silently observing the umbrellas. "It certainly is cramped. I must have been a rather slight child." He didn't remember it being this small. Then again, he had been pretty malnourished and cupboard sized before he attended Hogwarts and had access to three proper meals per day. He cocked his head, and took out the smallest umbrella. It was one of those pocket umbrellas that when folded up was only about 15 centimeters (approximately 6 inches) long. He looked at it, shrugged, and went over to his bag and slipped the little umbrella inside.

While he could just charm his clothes and person to be waterproof, it would look rather strange to Muggles and he would be trying to keep as much of a low profile as possible.

He was lucky that his new lack of glasses, tamed hair, and tattoos hadn't really been seen by any Death Eaters. Otherwise all hope of 'low profile' would have died painfully and swiftly. Then again...Snape knew what he looked like...

Eh. Deal with it when it happens.

Or, you know, I could just tell Volde-

But you won't. 'Cuz I won't let you. Besides, Voldie's been ignoring you anyway.

…

And you're our bitch. Just saying.

Ulquiorra stared at the group assembled in the Dursley kitchen. Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, Tonks, Lupin, Arthur and Bill Weasely, Fluer Delacour, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mad-Eye Moody, and Mundungus Fletcher. Ulquiorra was surprised to see such a large group assembled.

"Hello." Ulquiorra said into the baited and giddy silence (on their part. He just felt kind of awkward). "I wasn't expecting so...many of you."

It's like you have your own personal (weak) Espada army! ...And Mundungus.

"Change of plan," Moody growled, his large magical eye rolling around in its socket crazily as it tried to glance at the sky, street, and Ulquiorra simultaneously. Ulquiorra noted the two large burlap sacks over his shoulder with some wariness.

"Where is Grimmjow and Sirius?" Ulquiorra asked, confused as why the two danger loving wizards didn't come on the probable death mission.

"Uh-"

At the Burrow...

"GO TO HELL KITTY KAT! I'M GOING ON THE MISSION!"

"SCREW YOU DOG! THAT MISSION IS TOO FUN AND AWESOME SOUNDING FOR ME NOT TO BE ON IT! I'M GOING, AND THAT'S FINAL! YOU GOT THAT YOU STUPID FUCKER?!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A STUPID FUCKER YOU ARSE?!"

"I'LL KILL YOU!"

"...I see. That does sound like them." Ulquiorra muttered exasperatedly as he led the group deeper into the kitchen. "And they didn't notice you had already left?"

"We just left the two screaming at each other. They'll figure it out eventually." Hermione said uncertainly, as though she wasn't entirely sure the two would stop shrieking like teenage school girls to notice the mission group had left half an hour ago. Ulquiorra rolled his eyes. "They won't. Trust me." He turned to Kingsley. "Why aren't you with the Prime Minister?"

"He can get along without me for one night," said Kingsley. "You're more important."

Hear that Master? We're special~

...Quite.

"By the way Harry," Ron said, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a small square parcel. "Sirius was going to give you this. When he decided to come, anyway." He handed Ulquiorra the package, which had Sirius's handwriting on the top saying 'Happy Birthday Harry!'. Ulquiorra tore open the package and found a small square mirror no bigger than his hand. "...What is it?"

"That's a two-way-mirror." Lupin said from Tonks's side. "It's part of a set. There are two identical mirrors, and the owners of the mirrors can communicate though them. All you have to to is say Sirius's name to the mirror and he'll be able to talk to you. He and James would use it to talk during detention."

"Hey Harry," Tonk suddenly sang from on top of the washing machine, "Guess what happened over the summer?" she smile impishly while wiggling her left hand in his face, the wedding ring glinting proudly on her ring finger. Ulquiorra's eyes widened. He took her hand and inspected the ring, a glittering pink sapphire that matched her favorite pink hair perfectly. He had seen Lupin and Tonks together at Dumbledore's funeral, but he didn't think they'd consider marriage so quickly...

"That's fantastic," Ulquiorra said, surprisingly sincere, to Tonks's delight and Lupin's sheepish happiness, "Congrat-"

"Save the chit-chat for later," Moody boomed, casting silence amidst Ulquiorra's Espada sized posse. "We need to go over the plan."

Ulquiorra's eyebrow twitched. "No." He grit out, ignoring the mirthful shrieks of laughter in his head from his eccentric Zanpaktou. "Absolutely not."

"I told you he'd take it like this," Hermione said all knowingly, causing another irritated twitched of the former Espada's eyebrow.

"I highly doubt this would work," Ulquiorra said with a tinge of desperation, he so badly didn't want one, let alone seven, of the wizards walking around with his body. He then imagined Ron with his body and shuddered. "Please reconsider."

They didn't, and Ulquiorra actually grumbled as he pulled out a few of his hairs to give to the paranoid Ex-Auror.

"You look much tastier than Crabbe or Goyle at least!" Hermione said brightly as the Polyjuice Potion turned a very dark Shamrock emerald green. Ron looked at her weirdly, and Hermione quickly backtracked. "Well, he does! Goyle's looked like bogies..."

"Right then, fake Potters line up!" Moody barked, and Ron, Hermione, Fleur, Fred, and George lined up in front of him.

"You're one short," Ulquiorra said with a little too much glee. Perhaps with a missing person the plan couldn't go into action...

Please, Master. Since when is Life that kind to you?

"Here," Hagrid said gruffly, dragging Mundungus over by the scruff of his shirt collar.

…

Told you.

Dammit.

This is so disturbing. Ulquiorra stared openly at the six perfect copies of himself as they moved about the room putting on Ulquiorra-sized clothes and stared and at themselves. Ulquiorra couldn't help but turn his nose up at the clothes they were wearing. Blue jeans and T shirts were in abundance. And was that plaid flannel Hermione was putting on his body? Ulquiorra stared at the clothes he was wearing. A long sleeved white shirt with horizontal thick black stripes that was loose enough to appear casual but tight enough to hint at his muscular physique, slim (but not skinny, never skinny) black jeans, and solid black Derby shoes that shone smartly under the kitchen lights. His outer wear was a black zip up hoodie and the fingerless magical protective gloves from Fred and George's shop.

He compared their bumbling teenage style to his more Gothic and stylish fashion and sighed sadly. For God's sake, they had Sketchers brand shoes!

Fred and George turned to each other after dressing and exclaimed, "Oh look! We're identical!"

"Blimey Harry!" Ron said in awe, running a hand over his (and by his, Ulquiorra meant his, not Ron's) abdomen. "You're in real good shape!"

"You really are Harry," Hermione agreed blushing, to which Ron scowled. "You must exercise quite a bit."

"...Yes, I train frequently and vigorously." Ulquiorra said monotonously, fighting the urge to tear at his own eyes.

Murciélago was laughing hysterically of course. Ulquiorra glared sourly at nothing as his doppelgangers struggled to put in eye contacts. Suddenly, after they had managed to put the contacts in without blinding themselves, the Weasely Wizard Wheeze's creators stared at each other and smirked mischievously.

"Hey! Does this mean-"

"We can finally see-"

"Harry smile?" The twins finished together, much to Ulquiorra's horror and everyone's interest. A chorus of 'Oh yeah!' and 'That's right!' filled the room. Even Moody seemed curious. Everyone stared eagerly and intently at the twins as they smirked wickedly. However, their brows soon were furrowed as if confused.

"What is it?"

"...We...can't seem to smile all the way." George grunted, still smirking wickedly, albeit with strain.

"It's like the muscles in his mouth don't go that far. Or he's missing about twenty of them." Fred said frustratedly. Everyone sighed, wildly disappointed.

Ulquiorra smirked smugly.

"That was my owl." Ulquiorra said coldly with venom in his voice as he stared at the dead corpse of his wizard animal companion. Murciélago hissed in anger for her fallen winged creature. "I liked that owl." He snarled and whipped out his wand and immediately stunned an unsuspecting Death Eater mercilessly. The evil bastard dropped like a brick off his broom and tumbled down towards the ground as one of his fellows swooped out of the chase to save him.

Hagrid yelled something and hit a green button on the dashboard, causing a fucking brick wall to appear out of the exhaust pipe and expand into a type of barrier behind them. Ulquiorra heard a satisfying crunch as one of the Death Eaters hit the wall and fell to his doom, while the rest swerved out of the way. The Death Eaters continued to shoot Killing Curses at Hagrid, but Ulquiorra shot curses right back at them. And when Ulquiorra played with magic, he liked to play a little dirty.

Ulquiorra eyes narrowed in amusement as he heard one of the Death Eaters scream in pain as his suddenly elongated toenails collided with his shoes and broke off from the skin of his toes. His eyes widened however and he jerked his wand to shoot another stunner at another incoming Avadea Kedavra, causing a Christmas colored explosion of sorts.

Hagrid hit another button, causing a net to fly out, but the Eaters of Death were ready and all managed to avoid it, not to mention the Death Eater that had left to catch his stunned comrade had now caught up. Swell.

"This'll do it, Harry, hold on tight!" Hagrid yelled over the roar of the engine and curses, and slammed his hand on the large Emergency-only button.

Oh shit.

SHHHHHIIIIIIIITTTTTTT! Ulquirora, Murciélago, and Voldequirra screamed within their mental landscape as Hagrid accidentally broke the sidecar completely off the motorcycle, causing Ulquiorra to begin plummeting to his death.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Ulquiorra pointed his wand at the sidecar, and felt himself levitate upwards, much to his relief.

Said relief died when more curses streaked past his face, illuminating his face for all the Death Eaters to see. He knew they had gotten a clear look at his face from their yelling.

"Dear god, is that really Potter?"

"What's with the tattoos?!"

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes, and slung his rucksack over his shoulder. The sidecar was falling rapidly and he'd have to somehow escape the damn thing. Ulquiorra ducked into the sidecar as more jinxes and spell shot overhead. His Firebolt had fallen out of the car a while ago...unless...

Sticking his head out of the infernal sidecar, he aimed a jinx at the nearest Death Eater. "Impedimenta!" The Death Eater froze in midair, the broom moving without him from previous momentum. Ulquiorra quickly pointed his wand at the wandering broomstick. "Accio broomstick!" The broom shot towards him, and Ulquiorra took a suicidal leap off the side of the sidecar and managed to land on the broom well enough to jerk out of the way of the incoming curse from some random Death Eater lackey. He dived under the falling sidecar to rise up again on the opposite side, regained control of the damn thing via levitation and magically chucked it at the Death Eater clump.

"Confringo!" The sidecar, and Hedwig's body, exploded in a work of fire. Ulquiorra felt a mild pang of remorse as his faithful owl went up in orange and scarlet flames. Ulquiora sped up to match Hagrid as the Death Eaters were distracted from the fiery explosion.

"Hello." Ulquiorra called tonelessly over the motorcycle and roaring wind. Murciélago and Voldequiorra face palmed.

Ulquiorra faltered at the sight of an obviously Imperius-controlled Stan Shunpike. Thanks to his stupidly developed hero complex (though luckily he had much more control over it unlike his fourth year at Hogwarts), and natural human reluctance to kill other humans, he was much more hesitant to kill an obvious innocent. He raised his wand arm to cast a simple Disarming Charm-

NO! Murciélago screamed loudly (and painfully) in his ears. You can't use that! It's your signature move! You'll be spotted instantly!

I have a signature move?

YES! Don't use it!

Ulquiorra wasn't too sure about the whole signature move thing, but he'd take her word for it. She knew him just as well as he did. Maybe even better.

He quickly cast a Stinging Hex at Stan's arm, causing the involuntary Death Eater to clutch his arm in pain and swerve away. He continued to fire hexes, jinxes, and counter the curses aimed at himself and Hagrid. Eventually he heard Hagrid shout that they were almost there, when his forehead began to lightly tingle. That meant-

Voldemort is near, but he did he know it was me?

He doesn't, Murciélago explained hastily, He's jumping from fake Potter to fake Potter and using your connection to pin you down. Occulmency only blocks your dreams and thoughts, at such close range he'll be able to feel its you, albeit barely.

"Perfect" Ulquiorra grumbled, before calling out to Hagrid, "Hagrid, speed up!"

Ulquiorra hurriedly dived under the Killing Curse Voldemort shot at him and glared at the snake-eye bastard. Ulquiorra shot Sectumsempra at Voldemort, which the Dark Lord predictably blocked. However, Ulquiorra used that short delay to cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, his broom, and rucksack. Still carefully dodging the now extremely frustrated and random Avada Kedavras shooting in his general direction, he shot a hex to block the spell aimed for the motorcycle engine. He then quickly changed position to avoid Voldemort's extremely furious and overly violent curses. Distantly registering Voldemort's dramatic and shrill cries of "MINE! HE'S MINE!", Ulquiorra happily sensed strong magic up ahead and realized they were very close to their destination.

Flying up next to Hagrid and quietly reassuring him that yes, he was still alive and right behind him, he backtracked and settled behind the motorcycle. Holding his wand behind him, he began zig-zagging in the sky, bright green flames jetted out of his wand, creating a wall of obstructive and dense emerald fire. Ulquiorra followed Hagrid, both flying contraptions shooting towards the ground, and soon felt the Fidelius Charm of the safe house envelop him, Voldemort's screams of fury at once again being outmatched by someone decades younger fading away.

Ulquiorra politely accepted the tea Andromeda Tonks gave him and Hagrid after they arrived, calm (well, Ulquiorra) and composed on their back doorstep. He tilted the cup slightly and had a small sip, happy with the generous amount of milk and sugar.

He couldn't take tea without milk and sugar. It tasted disgusting.

His Soul Pager had been totaled in the fight. Ulquiorra sighed and removed the dented, but intact, bat charm and put it in his pocket before tossing the phone in the trash. How was he supposed to talk to his woman now?

Ulquiorra stared aghast at George's ear. Well, the extremely bloody mess it used to be, anyway. Ulquiorra moved forward, wand out. "I know a minor healing spell," he said softly to Mrs. Weasely who was bent sobbing over George's breathing but still body. "If you would let me-" Ulquiorra didn't finish the sentence thanks to Lupin grabbing his arm and slamming him against a cupboard.

OI!

"What creature sat in the corner the first time that Harry Potter visited my office at Hogwarts?" Lupin demanded agitatedly. "Answer me!"

"A grindylow." Ulquiorra answered tonelessly. He paused. "Please release my jacket now." Lupin hastily let go of the front of Ulquiorra's black hoodie, which he had been gripping during the brief interrogation. Ulquiorra calmly brushed his front of imaginary dirt and turned to the thundering footsteps of the approaching Grimmjow Jaggerjaques and Sirius Black.

"Harry!" and "Bastard!" were called out in perfect unison as both rushed over to him. Grimmjow at least stopped in front of George to inspect the damage. Sirius however, ignored the poor guy and rushed straight to his godson. "Harry! Are you alright?" Sirius asked worriedly, hands gripping his shoulders, dark eyes roaming all over Ulquiorra's body to check for injury. Ulquiorra patted his godfather's arm, causing the older man to release his shoulders from their death grip, although his right hand lingered on Ulquiorra's left shoulder. "Yes," Ulquiorra reassured the former fugitive, "I'm fine." Sirius beamed, letting out a relieved and slightly hysteric bark of laughter. "Damn right. Shouldn't have worried. You have your father's fighting spirit." He finished the (expected) comparison by drawing Ulquiorra into a 'man hug'.

Grimmjow snickered at him and Ulquiorra glared.

At least that was right with the universe.

Hemrione and Kingsley are alive.

Good.

Ulquiorra heard Arthur Weasely before he saw him, as he fought to get to George's bedside, the pale-faced Fred right behind. They all crowded around the fallen Weasely's bedside, who groaned and shifted on the couch.

"How do you feel, Georgie?" whispered Mrs. Weasley. George's fingers groped at the side of his head.

"Saintlike" he murmured.

"What's wrong with him?" croaked Fred, looking terrified. "Is his mind affected?"

"Saintlike," repeated George, opening his eyes and looking up at his brother. "You see . . . I'm holy. Holey. Fred: geddit?"

Ulquiorra faced palmed, as did Grimmjow. Although Grimmjow's face palm was accompanied by a "Are you fucking shitting me?"

"Pathetic," Fred told George shakily. "Pathetic! With the whole wide world of ear-related humor before you, you go for holey?" George grinned sheepishly and turned to his sobbing mother.

"Aw c'mon Mum. 'Least you'll be able to tell us apart, yeah? Hi Harry," He nodded to Ulquiorra before a confused look appeared. "Uh, you are Harry right?"

"The annoyingly famous, right here." Ulquiorra said dryly, glad that George was feeling well enough to still be his joking obnoxious self.

"Well, at least we got you back okay," said George, "Why aren't Ron and Bill huddled round my sickbed?"

...Awkward.

"Ron was great," said Tonks warmly, relinquishing her hold on Lupin. "Wonderful. Stunned one of the Death Eaters, straight to the head, and when you're aiming at a moving target from a flying broom—"

"You did?" said Hermione, gazing up at Ron with her arms still around his neck. Ulquiorra tugged at the collar of his shirt uncomfortably in the face of their sexual tension.

"Always the tone of surprise," Ron said a little grumpily, breaking free. "Are we the last back?" Ulquiorra shook his head. Ginny continued for him.

"No," said Ginny, "we're still waiting for Bill and Fleur and Mad-Eye and Mundungus. I'm going to tell Mum and Dad you're okay, Ron—"

Ulquiorra had never lost a comrade's life as a human, not a real one at any rate. It wasn't pleasant. His stomach felt like a recently gutted Jack O' Lantern and his heart felt too heavy for his chest. His eyes slid shut in silent mourning.

Grimmjow stood silently next to him, glaring at everyone and everything, hands shoved in his pockets and his posture slouched. He let out a quiet and angry, "Tch." and looked away from the group.

Murciélago let out a sad little crooning noise, and in his minds eye he could see her sitting at the shore of one of his underground lakes, knees at her chest, tail flat on the ground and wings drooping sadly. She had been particularly fond of Mad Eye. She liked the crazy ones.

Everyone else in the room dealt with the grief more conventionally; with silence, depression, heavy faces, and tears.

Bill walked over to the sideboard and pulled out a bottle of firewhisky and some glasses.

"Here," he said, and with a wave of his wand he sent twelve full classes soaring through the room to each of them, holding the thirteenth aloft. "Mad-Eye."

"Mad-Eye," they all said, and drank.

Ulquiorra pinched his nose between his fingers, and breathed in deeply. His scar was tingling again, and he peeked through the metaphorical door between his and Voldemort's mind.

A frail old man, a familiar frail old man was cowering on the floor. He was in tattered rags and screaming in unbearable agony.

"No! No! I beg you, I beg you. . . ."

"You lied to Lord Voldemort, Ollivander!"

"I did not. . . . I swear I did not. . . ."

"You sought to help Potter, to help him escape me!"

"I swear I did not. . . . I believed a different wand would work. . . ."

"Explain, then, what happened. Lucius's wand is destroyed!"

"I cannot understand. . . . The connection . . . exists only . . . between your two wands. . . ."

"Lies!"

Ulquiorra and Murciélago closed the symbolic door as Voldemort's began torturing Olivander.

Your wands didn't even come into direct contact, it's not Olivander's fault Voldemort's a total loser.

Yes, but Voldemort temperamental enough to take his anger on a helpless victim, and arrogant enough to think that the only reason I could have possibly evaded him again was because of our wand's brotherhood.

Fair point.

Ron, Hermione, and Grimmjow all joined him outside shortly after the vision ended.

Ron seemed disturbed. Hermione terrified. Grimmjow...Grimmjow.

Grimmjow grinned ferally. "You have an all access pass to Voldemort's head? Sweet. Great battle advantage." Ron gaped at him, while Ulquiorra dipped his head, glad someone actually saw the good in his strange mental situation.

Hermione ignored them all and immediately began to lecture. As usual.

"But it was supposed to have stopped! Your scar—it wasn't supposed to do this anymore! You mustn't let that connection open up again—Dumbledore wanted you to close your mind!"

When he did not reply (in fact, he very pointedly and obviously rolled his eyes), she gripped his arm.

"Harry, he's taking over the Ministry and the newspapers and half the Wizarding world! Don't let him inside your head too!"

Well, that's overly dramatic.

"Ron and Hermione seem to think that the three of you are dropping out of Hogwarts," Mrs. Weasely began in a light, casual tone. Ron warned him of this. He and Hermione had already gotten their own interrogation, from Mrs. Weasely, Mr. Weasely, Sirius, and Lupin. However, Mr. Weasely and Lupin dropped it, as did Sirius (after barking with laughter at the sheer unlikelihood of it all). Molly Weasely? Not so much.

"Oh," said Ulquiorra, manually folding a shirt and placing it in the folded laundry pile. "Yes. I am. They are not." Ron and Hermione had certainly told her that they were coming with him, which they weren't.

He told them they weren't. Just because he agreed to come to this wedding and trailed off into silence didn't mean he changed his mind. Wasn't his fault they didn't get it.

His prediction proved true with Mrs. Weasely's confused face and question of "They aren't?" Ulquiorra shook his head. "No, they aren't. But don't tell them that. It'll upset them." He picked up the Quidditch team patterned sock she had 'needed' him to identify. "This is not mine. I don't own any socks that aren't black, white, or in a single pair's case: green."

"Mama Ginger's separating you from Hermione and the Weasel." Grimmjow noted casually as he and Ulquiorra washed dishes. Well, Ulquiorra washed dishes. Grimmjow lazily flicked his wand every once in a while to dry them. Ulquiorra nodded. "She knows I won't let them come with me," Ulquiorra said as he scrubbed a oddly stubborn stain with a sponge, "but she also knows they don't know that. She's trying to prevent them from finding out and getting me to allow them to come."

What was with this food stain?

Grimmjow grunted, flicking his hand carelessly, instantly taking care of the blemish that Ulquiorra was laboriously trying to clean. Ulquiorra glared at him, before resignedly holding the plate out so Grimmjow could dry the damn thing. "Ironic that I'm the one going with you and yet she keeps pairing us up together." Ulquiorra shrugged. "Ignorance at its finest."

The next day, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow (who had been in charge of the chickens) settled outside with a pen and paper and were discussing their 'plan of attack' so to speak.

Ulquiorra neatly wrote down all the Horcurxes on the paper, crossing out the already destroyed ones.

Diary-D

Ring-D

Locket-D

Snake

Huff. Cup

Gryff./Rvnclw item

'Voldequiorra' -rdy for destruction

"'Voldequiorra'?"

"It's a fragment of Voldemort's soul that lives within my inner world," Ulquiorra explained. "I am the seventh and extremely accidental Horcrux. 'Voldequiorra' is what Murciélago calls him."

"Huh." Grimmjow said, sipping from a glass of cold milk. "That's why you can see into his head, huh?"

"Yes. He doesn't try to see into mine. Too risky for him." Grimmjow snorted. "But not for you obviously." He drawled sarcastically. Ulquiorra nodded. "Obviously." the former Sexta rolled his eyes.

"Well, our Zanpaktous can destroy these things, so where do we strike first?"

"Dumbledore, naturally, didn't give me any real leads," Ulquiorra sighed, tapping the pen against the list. "However, we should go the the Snake and 'Voldequiorra' last. Hufflepuff's cup will be the easiest to find, since we actually know what it is."

"...This is gonna be a fun little adventure, huh?"

"Absolutely delightful."

"Leroy! Salut! Je vous avez manqué!" (Leroy! Hi! I missed you!

"Salut. Vous avez raté trop." (Hey. I missed you too.)

"Est-Harry-Eep!" (Is Harry-Eep!)

Ulquiorra blinked blankly as Grimmjow towered over the eleven year old Gabrielle Delacour, who wrapped her arms around him in a sibling-esque hug. Grimmjow patted her head, laughing manically when she squeaked at the sight of Ulquiorra.

Ulquiorra shrugged and gave a little wave (which was really just him raising a hand in acknowledgment), figuring that it wouldn't hurt. His head tilted sideways when she beamed at him and batted her eyelashes at him.

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow. Murciélago laughed. Grimmjow and Ginny scowled.

...What?

"You were muttering Gregorovitch in your sleep." Ron informed him matter-of-factly when Ulquiorra woke up the morning of his birthday.

"Gregorovitch?" That sounded really familiar. He had definitely heard that name before.

I'll browse the archives.

"It's pure gold: Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches. Explains everything you need to know about girls. If only I'd had this last year I'd have known exactly how to get rid of Lavender and I would have known how to get going with . . . Well, Fred and George gave me a copy, and I've learned a lot. You'd be surprised, it's not all about wandwork, either." Ron explained his birthday gift to Ulquiorra; a guide on girls. Ulquiorra, while initially very surprised that Ron got him a book, was actually quite pleased with the gift. Especially since he had a 'girlfriend' now, even though girlfriend seemed too light a term to describe the relationship between him and Orihime.

Although, Orihime had a strange knack for knowing what he meant so he probably didn't really need the book. However, this would help him understand her better possibly, and his woman deserved the best.

It was a watch, a golden pocket watch with stars instead of hands. Ulquiorra ran a thumb over the dented back. The watch looked old, and despite it's battered look, had a worn class and elegance to it. Ulquiorra liked it, but wondered why the Weasely family decided to give him a watch, much less one so battered. Ulquiorra turned it over in his hands, closing the watch with a functional and sharp click.

"It's traditional to give a wizard a watch when he comes of age." said Mrs. Weasley, watching him anxiously from beside the corner. Oh. So that's why I got a watch. "I'm afraid that one isn't new like Ron's, it was actually my brother Fabian's and he wasn't terribly careful with his possessions, it's a bit dented on the back, but—"

Ulquiorra did something he never thought he would do again. He stood up and gave Mrs. Weasely a solid hug. He stood stiffly and it was terribly awkward on his part, thanks to his almost hug-virgin status, but she got the gist. In fact, in her eyes, the fact he had given another human being a hug just made it all the more meaningful.

This was proven by the clumsy pat on the cheek and the accidental dumping of half a pack of bacon on the floor. Ulquiorra gently smacked his hand to his forehead as Panthère, Grimmjow's black cat, dashed forward and snatched a piece of bacon from the ground and streaked back to Grimmjow's lap, happily munching on the fallen bacon.

...Wait...what exactly is Grimmjow going to do with that cat?

"You're going to give the cat to the Gabrielle girl?"

"Until we finish doing...whatever we're doing."

"...Whatever."

Ulquiorra was uncomfortable. Ginny had asked him to come to her room to talk...or something. And they were alone. In her room. Alone.

"...Nice view." Ulquiorra said stonily, indicating the view of the orchard that Ulquiorra, Hermione, and the youngest Weasely siblings had played Quidditch. Ginny just stared at him.

"I couldn't think what to get you," she said.

"You didn't have to get me anything." She disregarded this.

"I didn't know what would be useful. Nothing too big, because you wouldn't be able to take it with you." He chanced a glance at her. She wasn't showing much emotion except determination and possibly longing. Ulquiorra coughed a bit.

"So then I thought, I'd like you to have something to remember me by, you know, if you meet some veela when you're off doing whatever you're doing."

"I think dating opportunities are going to be scarce, to be honest." Ulquiorra said dryly, too absorbed in the absurdity of the statement to realize where she was going with this.

"There's the silver lining I've been looking for," she whispered, and leaned forward to kiss him. Ulquiorra blanched. Crap. Ulquiorra instantly leaned back, his hand shooting up to block her lips from his. Her brows furrowed in confusion and hurt. Ulquiorra took a hasty step back and turned away from Ginny, hands in his pockets again. He cleared his throat. "Ah, I-" he broke off, not sure what to do. He'd known Ginny for years, and while she had just been Ron's annoying baby sister for the majority of them, he had recently come to see her as an enjoyable acquaintance. He turned back towards her, frowning lightly. "I'm...flattered," That wasn't a bad way to start right? "but I don't think of you-us, in a romantic sense." He had been looking out the window during this, but he chanced a glance towards her. She looked disappointed, rejected, and a lot of other horrible things. Ulquiorra stood poker straight, embarrassed and confused. She continued to stare up at him with pain-filled eyes, and Ulquiorra, like most other teenage males, began to continue talking when he really shouldn't out of sheer awkwardness and social terror.

"In fact, I have a girlfriend." He continued, wondering why he wouldn't stop talking. "She's beautiful. Much more stunning than a veela. I don't like veelas. They're too pale. I think it's the hair. I like red hair. Not your hair per say. Your hair is too red. I like a softer red. Like sunrises, I like sunrise red. But continuing on the subject of my girlfriend, you haven't met her. She lives very far away, but needless to say I'm quite insanely in love with her. I'm not entirely certain why, she's my polar opposite, but I suppose that's how love works. I mean, I think her fantasies about robots are fascinating, and I find her obsession with red paste adorable, of all things.I think about her quite often. I think about her laugh and smile mostly. She has a wonderful laugh. I realized when I was around six that it reminds me of bubbles..."

He kept going, helplessly awkward and unable to stop for some reason, only shutting up when Grimmjow came in, smacked him on the head and dragged him from the room.

At least she didn't cry. A nice thing about Ginny. She wasn't a crier.

"...I'm sorry."

"..."

"...I am. I just...couldn't stop talking."

"..."

"..."

"...If-If I had said something sooner...would anything be different? Between us, I mean?"

"No. I have loved her since...well, since a very long time."

"Oh."

"..."

"...This actually explains a lot."

"I figured it might."

"...Don't tell Ron what happened. In fact, don't tell any of my brothers. Or father. Or anyone."

"I won't if you won't."

"I am here, as I'm sure you know, because of Albus Dumbledore's will."

Ulquiorra, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another.

"A surprise, apparently? You were not aware the that Dumbledore had left you anything?"

"A—all of us?" said Ron. "Me and Hermione too?"

"Yes, all of—"

"Dumbledore died over a month ago. Why has it taken this long to give us what he left us?" Ulquiorra interrupted, noting that Panthère had slipped into the room and perched herself on the arm of the sofa. Ulquiorra rolled his eyes, and Panthère turned her black little nose up at him. Grimmjow must have asked her to spy on them. Jackass.

"Isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, before Scrimgeour could answer. "They wanted to examine whatever he's left us. You had no right to do that!" she said, and her voice trembled slightly.

"I had every right," said Scrimgeour dismissively. "The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power to confiscate the contents of a will—"

"That law was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artifacts," said Hermione, "and the Ministry is supposed to have evidence that the deceased's possessions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to pass us something cursed?"

"Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Granger?" asked Scrimgeour coldly, irritated that she was pointing obvious flaws in his ability to uphold the law.

"No, I'm not," retorted Hermione. "I'm hoping to do some good in the world!"

Ron laughed, Scrimgeour's eyes flickered toward him angrily but turned away again as Ulquiorra spoke, smirking like the little bastard Scrimgeour thought he was.

"So why have you decided to let us have our things now? Can you not think of a pretext to keep them?"

"No, it'll be because the thirty-one days are up," said Hermioneat once. "They can't keep the objects longer than that unless they can prove they're dangerous. Right?"

"'The Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore' . . . Yes, here weare. . . .'To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it.'"

It appeared as a small silver lighter, but Ulquiorra knew that its real ability was to suck out all the light in an area and put it back at the users will. His eyes narrowed. He knew why Ron had been left that item. It was because Dumbledore thought it would help on the mission to defeat Voldemort and his Horcurxes. But Ron wasn't going to be joining him on his 'adventure'.

Damn. He wasn't sure if he could steal something that was left to someone else in the will of the man he killed.

He would think about it.

"'To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive.'"

With that, he handed Hermione an extremely worn book, looking at least several centuries old. It looked like it would fall apart the minute you opened it. Ulquiorra noticed it was runes, something he didn't learn to read, because he had been a stupid 12 year old who let Ronald Weasely convince him that Divination would be a useful class to take.

Bastard.

"'To Harry James Potter,'" he read, and Ulquiorra wondered idly what the hell he would get from the deceased Headmaster. "'I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.'"

Ulquiorra raised his eyebrows. "...Are you saying he left me a Snitch in his will?"

"I'm asking the questions," Scrimgeour snapped, pulling out a weakly fluttering golden Snitch.

"I notice that your birthday cake is in the shape of a Snitch," Scrimgeour said to Ulquiorra, referring to the rather large and, to be frank, delicious looking cake waiting for him outside.. "Why is that?"

Hermione laughed derisively. "Oh, it can't be a reference to the fact that Harry's a great Seeker, that's way too obvious," she said. "There must be a secret message from Dumbledore hidden in the icing!"

"I don't think there's anything hidden in the icing," said Scrimgeour, "but a Snitch would be a very good hiding place for a small object. You know why, I'm sure?"

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow. He liked to play the game, but he didn't spend his free time reading about it. Especially about how Snitches worked. Hermione, however, answered: Ulquiorra was beginning to believe it was pure instinct for her, much like how a rabbit would jump the first other rabbit of opposite gender (unless it was a homosexual rabbit) it saw during mating season .

"Because Snitches have flesh memories," she said.

"What?" said Ron, while Ulquiorra merely tilted his head to the side. He didn't think Hermione really knew anything about the magical sport. Then he wondered why she knew that. Was she really that bored with her life?

"Correct," said Scrimgeour. "A Snitch is not touched by bare skin before it is released, not even by the maker, who wears gloves. It carries an enchantment by which it can identify the first human

to lay hands upon it, in the case of disputed capture. This Snitch-" he held up the tiny golden ball, an eager glint in his eyes, "-will remember your touch, Potter. It occurs to me that Dumbledore, who had prodigious magical skill, whatever his other faults, might have enchanted this Snitch so that it will open only for you."

Ulquiorra grasped the Golden Snitch in his hand, feeling and relishing the familiar beat of tiny gossamer wings against his closed fist.

"What?" Ulquiorra asked the disappointed and flabbergasted Minister of Magic. "Were you expecting it to do backflips or something?

"Alright. I just have one question," Ron said as they all met in the attic after everyone went to bed.

"What?"

"Why is he here?" Ron jerked his head towards Grimmjow, who looked mildly insulted. "What, I'm not good enough for your little club?" He asked sarcastically, petting his trusty kitty, who purred in his lap happily, soaking up every minute she had left with her owner. Ulquiorra rolled his eyes.

After lightly discussing why the hell Dumbledore left them all this stuff, the unavoidable topic of Ulquiorra's Snitch was brought up.

"Well, I did not exactly try too hard, did I?" Ulquiorra mused, holding up the Snitch so that the light the Deluminator cast reflected off gold metal. "It's not like I caught this Snitch with my hands." Hermione and Grimmjow looked confused, but Ron, the Quidditch fanatic, let out a yelp of realization and pointed from Ulquiorra to the Snitch and back again wildly.

"You nearly swallowed that one!"

Ulquiorra nodded and promptly, without changing his facial expression at all, stuck the Snitch in his mouth.

Grimmjow, the bastard, laughed.

I open at the close.

Gee, that's descriptive.

"Those...are children's stories?" Ulquiorra asked flatly. Grimmjow and Ron, the two magically raised wizards, nodded.

"All the old kids' stories are supposed to be Beedle's, aren't they? 'The Fountain of Fair Fortune' . . . 'The Wizard and the Hopping Pot' . . . 'Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump' . . . "

Hermione giggled at the last title, while Grimmjow rolled his eyes. Ulquiorra huffed. "You cannot expect us to know that," he pointed out "Hermione and I were raised by muggles. We heard fairy tales like Snow White and the Seven Dwarves...or Hansel and Gretel..."

"Or Cinderella." Hermione chimed in, adding her own two cents. Grimmjow and Ron looked puzzled. "Is that some type of illness?" Ron asked.

Ulquiorra face palmed.

Oh weddings. Ulquiorra had never been to one before, much less a wizard wedding.

This'll be fun.

PARTY~

GREGOROVITCH! I FOUND HIM! Murciélago screamed triumphantly. Ulquiorra supposed that was good, except he nearly interrupted the freakin' wedding ceremony by covering his ears as her shrill batty shrieks filled his head.

Grimmjow leaned over and told him to be a good little bastard and suck it up.

Ulquiorra kicked him in the shin.

A wandmaker. A rather famous one who had made Viktor Krum's (who was also attending the wedding) wand.

So Voldemort was after a wandmaker? That both made sense and did not bode well. Fantastic.

"Grindelvald. That is Grindelvald's sign." Viktor glowered at Xenophilious Lovegood, who sported bright yellow dress robes and a necklace with what looked like a vertical stick inside a circle that was surrounded by three tangents creating a triangle.

"Really?" Ulquiorra said interestedly. "Fascinating. Although I highly doubt he knows that," he added as Krum pulled out his wand in anger, "he probably thinks its something involving Wrackspurts or some other nonsense. One cannot be truly angry at the ignorant, only scornful."

"If you say so Barry." Krum muttered unhappily, sticking his wand away after a long tense pause of intense glowering in the yellow-clad man's direction.

"It's Barney." Ulquiorra sighed, forever trolled by life, at the fact that the Order had insisted (i.e. attempted to spike his juice with Polyjuice Potion and resorted to shoving it down his throat when they failed) that he take up an alias during the wedding for 'protection'.

He hated life sometimes.

Grimmjow and Ulquiorra sat there awkwardly as a drunken Muriel Weasely and a Elphias Doge argued over the true past of Albus Dumbledore.

Doge insisted he was a good man and everything Muriel was saying was essentially bullshit.

Muriel was saying that Dumbledore's younger sister was a Squib, Mother Dumbledore locked her up and pretended she didn't exist (as did most of the other Dumbledores), Ariana, the younger sister, accidentally killed Mama Dumby in a struggle for freedom, and that Abberforth (the brother) broke Albus's nose during the younger sister's funeral and blamed Albus for her death (which he apparently didn't deny).

It was a lot of stuff to filter through. And said stuff sadly wasn't defending 'The Hidden Side of Albus Dumbledore: The Acts of Dark Magic and Manipulation-The Prequel!" either. It was actually kinda enforcing it, what with the nastier accusations having some kind of (granted, debatable) proof, where Doge just sputtered in horror and weak protest.

"-I think Bathilda has spilled the beans to Rita Skeeter. All those hints in Skeeter's interview

about an important source close to the Dumbledores—goodness knows she was there all through the Ariana business, and it would fit!" Oh, they're still going. Ulquiorra and Grimmjow shared a glance, before shifting their eyes back to the debating elders.

"Bathilda, would never talk to Rita Skeeter!" whispered Doge.

"Bathilda Bagshot?" Ulquiorra said, finally breaking their argument with his own questions. Thank God. "The author of A History of Magic?" Ah, A History of Magic. One of Ulquiorra's most useless textbooks ever. The two began bickering again, mentioning that Bagshot had apparently lost her marbles a bit. Grimmjow mimicked being stabbed in the heart with a fork. Ulquiorra pretended to slice his own throat with a butter knife back at him.

"Oh, there are ways of bringing back memories, and I'm sure Rita Skeeter knows them all," said Auntie Muriel "But even if Bathilda's completely cuckoo, I'm sure she'd still have old photographs, maybe even letters. She knew the Dumbledores for years. . . .Well worth a trip to Godric's Hollow, I'd have thought."

Didn't your parents live there?

Yes. He really could've mentioned that.

Seriously, bro.

...What is it with you trying to use American slang? It's not working.

Just the way I roll, Master. ...The way I roll. It floats my boat. It's how I rock. The way I go. That's how-

Please. Stop talking.

"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

Grimmjow and Ulquiorra heads snapped towards each other as Hermione's hand shot to her mouth in horror next to the batty teenager. Grimmjow grimaced.

"That's just fucking great. Didn't even get any cake yet."

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow pushed through the crowd, trying to get back to the clump of bushes back near the Burrow. They had stashed their stuff, two rucksacks and the moleskin bag Ulquiorra got for his birthday, in them in case something like the current attack happened. Hermione, who had a death grip on Ulquiorra's hand, began pulling him to the center of the mass, in sobbing desperation to find Ron. Ulquiorra tugged her towards him and gripped her shoulders firmly and stared into her terrified brown eyes. "Find Ron," he said loudly over the noise, ducking and pulling Hermione out of the way of a mysterious streak of light, "I'll meet you two near the back door of the Burrow." He felt a slight twinge of guilt at the lie and gave her a sharp push. "Go!" The bushy haired girl stumbled over her dress as she began screaming the second-youngest Weasely's name. Ulquiorra turned away and weaved his way through the panicking crowd, who were running in all directions and dispparating away now that the protective barriers were gone. Ulquiorra caught up to Grimmjow, and the two ducked behind a table as they spotted a dark cloak and mask.

Finally, they managed to run/crawl/crouch their way to their stuff and open their bags in a last minute sweep.

"Invisibility Cloak?" Grimmjow asked in the cover of the bushes, double checking their supplies.

"Yes. Deluminator? Book of Beetle Bard?" Ulquiorra asked Grimmjow, who, unlike Ulquiorra, didn't have any qualms with stealing the items from Ron and Hermione. Well, Ron anyway.

"Yeah. Snitch, potion supplies, clothes?"

"Yes to all." Ulquiorra confirmed, after a quick scan. "Rune dictionary, tent, food?"

"Got it." Ulquiorra nodded. "I have the fake locket and other miscellaneous helpful items. Ready?"

"No shit. Let's get the fuck out of here." Grimmjow deadpanned, the two slinging their packs over their shoulders. He grinned crazily and grabbed Ulquiorra's wrist, yanking him up.

"HARRY!" Ulquiorra turned his head as Grimmjow began to Apparate them out, and the last thing he saw before the world twisted away was Hermione and Ron sprinting toward them, Hermione half-sobbing and screaming, Ron yelling along with her, fear, anger, and confusion in their voices as they called his names.

His last word to them for many months, a whispered "Sorry" was lost in the screams and chaos as he and Grimmjow cracked loudly out of sight.

"Ah, fuck, I think I forgot my toothbrush."

"...No matter what, you are NOT using mine, you stupid idiot."

"They'll look for us here."

"Maybe not."

"It's so obvious that'd we'd come here."

"Yes. So obvious that we'd have to be idiots to hide out here. Thus, no one will look." Grimmjow stared at Ulquiorra skeptically. "Whatever. Damn, what a fucking hole." The blonde kicked the ground of Grimmauld Place and the two recoiled as a dust cloud rose from the carpet. "God, how could it get dirtier?"

"Have you even been here before?" Ulquiorra asked incredulously, and Grimmjow scratched the back of his ear. "..."

"What?"

"...I've seen photos."

"..."

"Hey, what's-"

"Serverus Snape?" Rang out Mad-Eye Moody's croaking voice and Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow. "We're not Serverus Snape-" his tongue suddenly curled unpleasantly in his mouth, making it impossible to continue talking. However, before he could focus on the unpleasant sensation, the pink muscle had unfurled to its normal position in his mouth. He smacked his mouth to test the familiar feeling of tongue freedom, while Grimmjow opened his mouth wide and stuck out the appendage, wagging it up and down in the air, a disgusted look on his face. "Blargh."

"Tongue-Tying Curse." Ulquiorra said with a slight rasp, his mouth, although regaining moisture quickly, was still dry. "Defenses the Order set up-"

"HOLY FUCK MUFFINS!"

The never-ending supply of dust in the carpet suddenly collected in a Tasmanian Devil twister, settling to form a grotesque and dead Dust Dumbles. Its empty eye sockets stared at the two, before it glided (although really really fast) towards them, an wasted arm reaching towards their throats. Grimmjow crossed his arms indignantly.

"Hey! We didn't kill you! ...Well, I didn't anyway-" The figure, hearing the word 'kill', exploded into a dust bomb, causing the two to back up coughing. "Well," Ulquiorra drawled when the insane amount of filth settled, "that was just rude."

Dear Padfoot,

Thank you, thank you, for Harry's birthday present! It was his favorite by far. One year old and already zooming along on a toy broomstick, he looked so pleased with himself. I'm enclosing a picture so you can see. You know it only rises about two feet off the ground but he nearly killed the cat and he smashed a horrible vase Petunia sent me for Christmas (no complaints there). Of course James thought it was so funny, says he's going to be a great Quidditch player, but we've had to pack away all the ornaments and make sure we don't take our eyes off him when he gets going. I have to say I was relieved to see Harry doing a 'normal' wizard child activity. You know Harry Padfoot, he hardly makes a peep, and barely smiles and is always drawing those pictures with the crayons I bought him. You seen them, remember? The white castle and bats? He been drawing something new though lately, it looks like a pretty red-haired girl surrounded by fairies. James thought it was me (as did I), but Harry insists it's not. Says her name- well, I assume it's her name anyway. He just points at the picture and says 'Onna'.

We had a very quiet birthday tea, just what Harry likes (although he hates tea). Just us and old Bathilda who has always been sweet to us and who dotes on Harry. We were so sorry you couldn't come, but the Order's got to come first, and Harry's not old enough to know it's his birthday anyway! James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell—also Dumbledore's still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much. Wormy was here last weekend. I thought he seemed down, but that was probably the next about the McKinnons; I cried all evening when I heard. Bathilda drops in most days, she's a fascinating old thing with the most amazing stories about Dumbledore. I'm not sure he'd be pleased if he knew! I don't know how much to believe, actually because it seems incredible that Dumbledore-

Ulquiorra stared at the old letter as it was cut off. The letter, found in Sirius' old room, was clearly written to him before Voldemort killed Ulquiorra's family. Apparently he had always remembered his woman, even as an infant. And apparently he was always quiet to the point of abnormality. His eyes flickered upwards and scanned the beginning of the letter again and huffed lightly at the mention of the Potter family cat. I remember that cat!

Really?

Oh yeah. We hated that little son of a bitch. He would always steal your crayons and tear up your drawings. I once came out to tell him to back off and the bastard bit me. He freakin' BIT ME! 'Course I felt bad later when said cat 'mysteriously' died. Your mom liked him for some reason.

...And father?

You guys secretly high-fived in victory when she wasn't looking.

…

You guys surprisingly agreed on a lot of things, despite being so different and you being a infant and all.

Ulquiorra stared at the tiny black haired tot on the toy broomstick. Ulquiorra began searching for the remaining half of the letter (although he was doubtful he'd find it), both out of curiosity about Dumbledore and sentimentality. The toddler's toes skimmed the grass as he smiled (even then, he didn't really laugh), vivid green eyes free. A pair of legs followed him, and judging from the height and masculinity of said legs, Ulquiorra assumed the pair of limbs belonged to his father. Had this been his early years of childhood? Flying around on toy brooms, drawing pictures, being chased around by his father and doted on by his mother? It was so mundane and functional to the point of impossibility. Such a notion seemed foreign and queer, like an English-only speaking Englishmen trying to decipher a Frenchman's rapid speech.

"Aw, well ain't that precious?" Oh god. Grimmjow had snuck up behind the pondering Bat and snatched the photo out of his grasp. "Aren't you just adorable?" Grimmjow cooed mockingly, grinning with trembling shoulders to indicate that he was holding back loud boisterous laughter. "Bet Princess would want to see this, huh?" Ulquiorra snatched the photo back. "Shut up." He mumbled, feeling light heat across his cheeks. He felt like such a teenager. It was awful really. He slid the photo in his back pocket and stormed out of the old room. He heard Grimmjow burst into hysterical cackles as he followed him. He was about to head down the stairs to try to find something resembling edible food, when a unnoticed door and sign caught his attention.

Do Not Enter

Without the Express Permission of

Regulus Arcturus Black

"Hey. Look." Ulquiorra said, pointing at the 'R', then the 'A', and finally the 'B' when Grimmjow had caught up to Ulquiorra. "R.A.B."

"Sirius told me once that Regulus, his younger brother, had been a Death Eater. However, he had gotten cold feet and tried to leave, so Voldemort obviously killed him." Ulquiorra explained to Grimmjow as the entered the favorite son of the Black family's room. The walls were draped with green and silver, the colors of Slytherin house. The family crest was painted pretentiously in faded paint above the bed with the family motto beneath. Yellowed newspaper clippings were tacked up in a collage under the foreboding bold letters of Toujours Pur. Each one involved Voldemort, whether it be missing Ministry officials or a Muggle killing. While the eldest son's room was decorated to show how different he was from the Blacks, the younger strove to assimilate.

"Voldemort fanboy who chickened out,eh?" Grimmjow mused, squinting at the almost illegible print of the newspaper collage. "Tch. Figures."

"...Is that a house elf?" Grimmjow asked, his nose wrinkling a in a comically cat-like way as Kreacher stared at them. "..Yes. This is Kreacher- Hello Kreacher." Ulquiorra tonelessly greeted the old over-the-hill elf. Kreacher continued to stare creepily at them, his large bat like ears twitching.

Ignoring Grimmjow's mutterings of 'filthy little English elves', Ulquiorra focused on the Black family elf. "What-?"

"What are you doing in Master Regulus's room?" the unkept elf croaked hoarsely. Ulquiorra blinked. "...Isn't Sirius your Master?" The elf hunched over, gnarled fists clenched, with his eyes staring into the distance, making the creature look suitably deranged.

"Filthy blood traitor." Kreacher muttered darkly, "Broke My Mistress's heart with his unlawful ways and rebellious nature. Unfit to be my master, yes, Master should not be my master..."

"...Right." Ulquiorra said slowly. "Well, we were investigating his room because of his involvement with a locket." He said this a little sarcastically, thinking Kreacher would have no idea what he was talking about. However, to his surprise, the (probably) slightly mad elf immediately snapped out his mutterings and stumbled forwards to grip Ulquiorra's pant legs. Ulquiorra weakly attempted to kick him off, but his grip was tight, and he was too pathetic for Ulquiorra to be overly violent. I mean, there was picking on the weak and there was picking on the crazy elderly elf. Some lines shouldn't be crossed.

"Master Regulus's locket?" Kreacher muttered, almost worshipful (which creeped the crap out of Grimmjow and Ulquiorra), "You know of Master Regulus's locket?"

"...You know about the locket?" Ulquiorra said confused. "What do you know about the locket?"

And so Kreacher spurted out the whole story. Ulquiorra wasn't sure if it was loneliness or something else, but Kreacher did not hide a detail when he told his tale. How Regulus Black followed family tradition and joined Voldemort, how Voldemort one day required an elf to hide the locket, and how Regulus took Kreacher back to the cave and drank the potion himself, ordering Kreacher to destroy the locket and leave him to the Inferi.

"Wow. That's one pretty awesome, yet messed up, bastard." Grimmjow said in awe, reluctantly impressed with the final acts of Regulus Black. Kreacher ignored him and continued his story as though Grimmjow wasn't even there, only addressing Ulquiorra.

""Nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it," moaned the elf. "Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing, nothing would work. . . . So many powerful spells upon the casing, Kreacher was sure the way to destroy it was to get inside it, but it would not open . . . Kreacher punished himself, he tried again, he punished himself, he tried again. Kreacher failed to obey orders, Kreacher could not destroy the locket! And his mistress was mad with grief, because Master Regulus had disappeared and Kreacher could not tell her what had happened, no, because Master Regulus had f–f–forbidden him to tell any of the f–f–family what happened in the c-cave . . . "

After stopping the elf from hurting himself (and possibly committing suicide) when Kreacher realized he had disobeyed the orders of not telling the story of the locket, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow persuaded the frantic elf that they weren't part of the Black family, thus no orders were broken. He calmed down considerably afterwards, and seemed to look at them with more liking. Not a lot, but a little. His glare didn't seem quite as contemptuous at least. Ulquiorra, who had been kneeling down to Kreacher's level, stood up and gestured for the elf and former Sexta to follow him. Grimmjow sidestepped the family servant and caught up to Ulquiorra. "What'cha doing?"

"I'm going to give him the lockets." Ulquiorra replied, continuing his confident stride, "We don't need them and at this point they're dead weight. And it will give the elf peace of mind and a reason to not kill himself." Ulquiorra paused. "And maybe it'll get him to like us enough that he won't make our stay here hell on earth." Grimmjow nodded slowly. "Fair enough. Princess has really rubbed off on you, hasn't she?" The last sentence was finished with a perverted leer, which Ulquiorra matched with a disgusted death glare.

"Don't be repugnant."

"Who's being repugnant? I didn't say anything like that, you're the one who interpreted it."

"...Shut up."

"I don't need these anymore," Ulquiorra said brusquely, the heavy golden locket and it's smaller decoy swinging lightly as Ulquiorra griped the chains in his hand. "Grimmjow," he jerked his head to the nonchalant blonde, who grunted in response, "destroyed it. You seem to be rather attached to them both, so you can have them-"

"Overkill, batboy." Grimmjow said as Kreacher took a glance at not one, but two golden lockets and threw himself on the ground, shrieking and howling with fat tears, curling up in a fetal position. The two former Espada winced at the noise. Well, Ulquiorra winced. Grimmjow slapped his hands over his ears and began screaming, "DEAR GOD, SHUT HIM UP! MY EARS ARE SENSITIVE DAMMIT!"

About an half-an-hour later they managed to calm him down. Afterward he bowed so low his nose touched the floor, mumbling how 'Master Sirius' could learn from 'Master Potter' and 'Master Jaggerjaques'.

The two wizards shared a sideways glance. In the end, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow decided it was best to awkwardly stand there.

"My kind don't usually breed!" Lupin shouted frantically, pulling at his hair. Grimmjow raised an eyebrow. "So? You managed to do the impossible. Good for you." He said dryly, munching on a cookie that Kreacher had whipped up. Lupin stared at him, disgusted, shocked, and appalled by the sheer amount of Grimmjow in the sentence. Ulquiorra sighed.

"I don't think werewolves are too eager to potentially create more werewolves." Ulquiorra pointed out, but then thought about Greyback, the monstrous bastard that preyed on young children to create more wolves to hate on humanity. "...Most of them, at any rate. Nevertheless," Ulquiorra turned back to Lupin. "I'm not letting you come." Lupin opened his mouth to protest but Ulquiorra continued. "You love Tonks, and deep down past the horror of letting your sperm follow it's instinctual course of action, you love your unborn child. Therefore, you are going to man up, grow a pair, and return to your family. You are going to deal with a pregnant Tonks, watch her birth the child, feel the pride and love only a father can feel, and you are going to like it." Damn straight. You tell him Master!

"But-"

"You abandoning the kid ain't gonna magically destroy all chances of it being a werewolf." Grimmjow said bluntly and thickly, as his mouth was full of the last bites of cookie. "All it's gonna accomplish is making you a freakin' douche and get your wife mad at you for a long time. Seriously, don't you wizards know about protection?"

"Well, at least we averted a child's unhappiness and potential daddy issues."

"Go us."

"Alright, we need to brainstorm." Grimmjow said as the two leaned over maps on well polished kitchen table. Ever since the two had (easily) parted with the two lockets, Kreacher had started acting like a house-elf and gave them royal treatment in gratitude. "Where the fuck are we going?" Ulquiorra lightly grasped his chin with his pointer finger and thumb in thought. "Dumbledore said he would place them in locations that meant something significant to him." Ulquiorra mused, eyebrows furrowing. Grimmjow stared at him.

"...That's it?" he asked dubiously. "An entire year of 'lessons'-" Grimm made sure to put quotations with his fingers and tone at the word lessons, "-and that's all he told you location wise?"

"Yes."

"...Gee, what an informative mentor/guide." Ulquiorra smirked at the sarcastic barb towards the dead Headmaster. "Quite. He was rather annoying in that regard." Grimmjow let out a hiss of laughter. "So, important places?"

"Yes. Hogwarts definitely." Ulquiorra nodded firmly, circling the area Hogwarts was located on their world map. "It was his first home, as well as his school and the place he discovered he was 'superior' than his fellow non-magical orphanage companions. One will definitely be there...somewhere."

"Wow, you sure are able to relate to the guy." Ulquiorra shrugged. "We are similar in many regards. Except that I'm not a total racist imbecile with a superiority complex and abandonment issues."

"...Well, you're not racist, I'll give ya that."

"So...this is Godric's Hollow." Grimmjow said simply, staring at the quaint little village. It was very simple, with a town's square at the heart, a pub, a church with glittering stained-glass windows, a post office, and several shops mingling among cottages that families made their homes in. A war memorial stood in the square. Ulquiorra stared at the autumn leaves that swirled along the lane into the town. The two had debated for about a month, living comfortably in Grimmauld Place, on where to search.

They came up with pretty much nothing. Although, they did take a closer look at the book Dumbledore had left Hermione. Grimmjow didn't understand runes either, but they got the gist of the story from their rune dictionary and they noticed that the mark Xenophillius Lovegood was wearing at the Weasely wedding was also on the book cover. They were still talking about going to the Lovegood residence and asking the eccentric man about the symbol's meaning.

"It's very quiet." Ulquiorra said softly, walking towards the heart of the town. "I can picture my parents living here." An image of cocky, loud, mischievous James Potter flashed through his mind. "...Correction. I can picture my mother wanting to live here and dragging my father along with her."

"How you didn't become a arrogant bastard worthy of Kurosaki I'll never know." Grimmjow marveled as the two stared at the 'war memorial'. Apparently, the memorial was a magical cover-up, and it was actually a statue of the Potter family. James and Lily side-by-side, with baby Ulquiorra in Lily's arms. Ulquiorra had to agree. The memorabilia about 'Harry Potter: Boy Who Lived' was both unnecessary and in an ridiculous amount.

"Well, the relatives that raised me were neglectful, cruel, and were constantly doing their best to destroy my self-esteem."

"Yeah, that'll do it. Not to mention you're a cold apathetic jackass."

"...With a girlfriend, unlike you." HA! BURN!

"Shut up!"

Kendra Dumbledore and her daughter Ariana lay next to each other in the graveyard. The sun was setting into twilight, casting a reddish-orange glow on the gravestones.

Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

Awww...That's so cheesy. Murciélago cooed. Actually, that sounds like something Orihime would say. Except more muddled and confusing.

Ulquiorra spared the two graves a glance, noting that Muriel Weasely and Rita Skeeter, both annoying and gossiping, had been correct about this one thing. The Dumbledore's had lived in Godric's Hollow, and two had died there. Ulquiorra wondered why Dumbledore hadn't mentioned it since the mentor and...student(?) had both lived in the village once upon a time. However, Ulquiorra didn't mind too much. Family matters were something that didn't need to be shared.

Unlike vital information on where Horcruxes were located.

"That's the mark from the book." Ulquiorra stated, surprised to see the Dark(?) and elusive symbol in a small graveyard on a crumbling ancient headstone. He turned to Grimmjow, who had knelt down to brush moss and dirt off the marker. "Who is it?" Grimmjow squinted at the eroded inscription. "Ignotus...something-that-begins-with-the-letter-P. Christ, this fucker is old." Ulquiorra shrugged, and continued among the graves, searching for the Potters. It wasn't at all relevant to the Voldemort mission, but Uluqiorra decided to take a personal detour. He hadn't had a past or family for a very long time, and then he only got one for about a year. Grimmjow got it, having had a big black void full of pain and hunger for a past as well.

Night crept on the two, causing wands to be whipped out of pockets to create dim light. "Found 'em." Grimmjow called, and Ulquiorra noticed that his parents were buried quite close to the Dumbledores. The Potters' graves were made of white marble, and stood out in the dark unlike the older tombs. He casts his wandlight on the gravestones.

James Potter
Born 27 March 1960
Died 31 October 1981

Lily Potter
Born 30 January 1960
Died 31 October 1981

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

"Wise words." Grimmjow said sagely in regards to the quotation on the grave. "Those guys are resilient fuckers." Ulquiorra nodded in agreement. "Their numbers do seem to never end." he admitted, as he conjured a lily and peony, placing the peony on James's grave and the lily on Lily's. If he remembered correctly, the peony stood for bravery and masculinity back in Japan. He would've put a Amaryllis, but it seemed a little inappropriate to call his father prideful (the closest thing he could find to cocky) through a flower on his grave. At least he subtly managed to convey that during his youth his father seemed to overcompensate his masculinity along with complimenting his bravery. The lily was white, for purity. He didn't choose it for any symbolic reason. He just thought it would be amusingly ironic if it turned out that Lily hated lilies. And what son would he be if he didn't put a lily on Lily's grave? As a second thought, he added dark pink rose for gratitude.

"...Man, your parents must have had really sucky luck to die on Halloween."

"I thought that was obvious, them being dead and all."

"Touché."

"...That's...unnecessary." Ulquiorra managed, staring at the preserved ruins of his childhood home. It was horribly maintained, having gone untouched for 16 years. There was even a sign explaining what the house was. It had motivational graffiti on it for God's sake.

"Gee. Always the big man's favorite, aren't ya?"

"Shut up."

"First Aizen, now Dumbledore...man, creepy powerful men really like trying to use you for their own means, don't they?"

"..."

...Man, he's right. They really do. Do you think we radiate some type of vibe?

I don't know, and I don't want to know.

"She smells dead." Grimmjow muttered, wrinkling his nose at the retreating Bathilda Bagshot as she led the two to her house. Ulquiorra agreed. "Her heartbeat doesn't sound human either." However, they continued to follow the short old lady to her home. It was dark, creepy, and musty. It also smelled unpleasantly of decaying flesh. The entire place sent warning bells blaring in the two Shinigami's(?) minds. Well, not warning bells per say...

Dear Aizen, this place is evil! EVIL! You get the hell out of there Master! MASTER! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!

Grimmjow Leroy Jean Jaggerjaques, you get out of this hellhole trap of doom right now! Grimmjow! Pay attention to me! Grimmjow!

Grimmjow and Ulquiorra shared an irritated look, both seeming to know that the other's Zanpaktou was acting like an overprotective helicopter parent.

Ulquiorra stared at the tiny women, hunched over with age. She barely came to his shoulder. Her white hair was thinning and almost transparent, hinting at a wrinkled scalp. Her skin was covered in liver spots, the folds on her face giving her a droopy defeated appearance. Her knuckles almost seemed pale blue and the prominent veins were easily seen through paper thin skin. She appeared more corpse-like than he was comfortable with.

"Bathilda Bagshot?" He hesitantly asked. Her deathly appearance made him wonder if her ears were properly functioning. As well as her eyes, sense of smell, vocal cords, and circulatory system.

However, she nodded, giving a slight hint that she was alive. She stumbled past Grimmjow silently towards a sitting room as though he was part of the dank musty furniture. Grimmjow glared at her. "Seriously, man. She smells like death."

"Her body heat is abnormally low as well." Ulquiorra murmured back. "We should follow for now-"

"Come." Ulquiorra heard from the room the elderly woman entered. Grimmjow, for some reason, jumped and whipped out his wand, eyes darting around the room crazily.

"...What the hell are you doing?" Ulquiorra deadpanned. Grimmjow gaped at him.

And cuffed him on the head for good measure. So Ulquiorra stepped on his foot. Not very mature, but the bastard was asking for it.

After a few seconds of childishly (and like two girls bitch-fighting) scuffling, the settled down to huffing glares. "What the hell?" Ulquiorra hissed angrily. Grimmjow hissed right back. Of course, Grimmjow's hissing was like a pissy cat in water, while Ulquiorra's hissing was like an agitated bat in an American dance club.

"Didn't you hear that?" Grimmjow asked as he followed Ulquiorra reluctantly to the sitting room. "Hear what?" Ulquiorra asked.

"That noise!"

"How specific."

"The hissing! Like some type of snake!" Ulquiorra turned to Grimmjow sharply. "A snake?"

"It seemed to come from the old bat." Ulquiorra frowned. Why on earth would Grimmjow hear a snake be making hissing noises near Bathilda? And why hadn't Ulquiorra heard it? All Ulquiorra heard was Bathilda asking him to follow her-

See? See! She's evil, I tell ya. EVIL!

Oh, Aizen.

After summoning their Zanpaktous, the two followed the snake(?) lady to the room. Ulquiorra immediately noticed the signs that Bathilda was no longer a frail and possibly crazy old witch. The room, for starters, smelled like rotting meat (or possibly a rotting body). An ridiculous amount of dust had collected on the curtains, floor, photographs, and everything else in the room. The real give away was that the silent creature was lighting the candles by hand, and failing quite epically at it as well. Grimmjow rolled his eyes and flicked his wand so the candles flared to life, while Ulquiorra flicked his wand, silently removing dust from the photos on the mantle.

Ulquiorra noticed that the largest and most ornate frames were missing their photos. Well, that's not suspicious at all. Hey, what's that one? Ulquiorra followed Murciélago mental indication and frowned at the photo of a merry-faced smiling blonde boy. His eyes widened fractionally as he recognized the teenager. Lately, he had been having flashes of Voldemort's dreams and thoughts (as usual). And most of those flashes, although brief and essentially useless, were of the boy in the photo. Ulquiorra knew he had a connection to Gregorovitch, since in one dream the kid had been perched on the wandmaker's windowsill.

"She wants me to go upstairs with her." Ulquiorra said to Grimmjow, translating the feeble gestures she(?) used instead of speech. He nodded to her and she turned away to hobble up rickety and unstable-looking stairs. Ulquiorra, keeping his eyes trained on the innocent looking lady, issued a command to the former panther before he followed.

"After we're out of sight, follow us. Keep your guard up and be ready to attack."

"...So...what do you want?" Ulquiorra asked, mostly to fill the silence, as Bagshot(?) stared at him solemnly. Those probably aren't even her own eyes. Murciélago scoffed. Ulquiorra's eyes could see in the pitch black, and moved back a step as she moved closer, indicating to the creature, whatever it was, that he could see her.

"You are Potter?" she hissed, and now that he was listening for it, he could hear the Parseltongue. He nodded and answered back in her native serpent language. "Technically." She closed her eyes and Ulquiorra heard Murciélago yelp in surprise.

Uh, Master? Voldequiorra's getting twitchy. He keeps muttering "Hold him!" and grinning like an idiot. ...It's clearly a trap.

Thank you for that Murciélago.

It's what I'm here for. Or whatever.

Ulquiorra resisted rolling his eyes, albeit with fondness, at her sarcastic yet chipper quip. He tightened his grip on Murciélago's hilt. "Over here," she whispered, edging towards what looked like a heap of molding laundry. She pointed to it. "There." Ulquiorra raised his eyebrows at the obvious attempt to get him to turn his back to her. "Alright." He said, and slowly turned around. At the edge of his vision he saw her twitch madly, and he spun around, swiping his blade at the thick neck of Nagini as she emerged from the dead body of Bathilda Bagshot. She reared back, the Zanpaktou missing her by centimeters, hissing wildly. She clearly hadn't expected him to expect her trap. He slashed at her again, getting her to back away.

"Did you think I was stupid?" He snarled in the tongue of serpents. Switching to English, he called, "Grimmjow, now!" Grimmjow, in all his destructive glory, kicked the door down in a shower of door hinges and splinters, and stabbed expertly at the large snake's head.

She dodged. Well, she wasn't a Horcrux for nothing Ulquiorra supposed. The two slashed and stabbed at her neck and head, backing up the now frantic creature into a corner. Instinctively sensing Grimmjow, the panther, as a greater threat, she lunged at his neck, fangs extended for the kill. Grimmjow blocked easily with Pantera, but the beast caught the blade in her mouth. While the edges of her mouth were cut, she kept the opening clamped tight, preventing him from withdrawing his sword or moving. Grimmjow grunted irritably as he struggled with the glaring Nagini. "Goddamn snake! Kill it!" Ulquiorra raised his sword to deliver the finishing blow-

Voldemort's coming. Ulquiorra froze, arm high in preparation to cut the serpents head clean off. Just a head's up. He's pretty excited.

Does he know we're about to kill Nagini?

Nah. I decided to edit that bit out. I've incapacitated Voldiequiorra and completely blocked your thoughts and future location from Voldie. Hint hint.

Well, he's about to. Ulquiorra thought in regards to the plan of killing Voldemort's living Horcurx as he instead brought his arm down to cut deeply into the beasts eyes, blinding the creature much like Fawkes blinded the basilisk five years ago. Dark scarlet blood stained his sword (Finally) and the dusty ground as it spurted from Nagini's now useless eyes. The snake shrieked in pain, hissing wails of pain erupting from her mouth as she involuntarily released Pantera. Grimmjow jerked back and took a few steps away as Ulquiorra ran around the thrashing creature.

"Voldemort is coming." was all Ulquiorra said in explanation to the blonde Frenchman, who pouted at the unsuccessful kill. "Lame." he complained but regardless let Ulquiorra grab his forearm in anticipation for Apparation. Ulquiorra turned to Nagini, who was now glaring at their direction, head low and parallel to the ground, tongue flicking the stale air rapidly. Ulquiorra heard an object move against wood as Grimmjow fiddled with something.

"Tell Voldemort I said Hi." Ulquiorra mocked the snake quietly, an emotionless and serious look on his face as he Disapparated Grimmjow and himself the hell out of there.

Wow. He is pissed.

How much?

Immediately after finding the blind snake, he screamed in anger like a spoiled little girl and returned to his lair and killed at least nine totally unmemorable underlings.

Oh. That's pretty upset.

He also is keeping her under lockdown in some magical cage and won't let her leave his sight anymore.

...Swell.

"The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore?" Ulquiorra read the title of the pristine and untouched book, Dumbledore's old wise face smiling up at him, spectacles twinkling. "Seriously?" Grimmjow shrugged. "It was in the snake lady's sitting room, and I was bored." Ulquiorra stared at him dubiously. "Thought I might have something useful since it's about the guy who sent you on this leadless death mission." Ulquiorra tilted his head curiously. "Fair enough." He flipped the book open, scanning the pages until he came upon a picture of the boy he had seen in the photograph at Bagshot's home.

"It's the boy who stole from Gregorovitch." Ulquiorra said surprised, and Grimmjow leaned over his shoulder to read the caption, already knowing the story behind the boy.

Albus Dumbledore, shortly after his mother's death with his friend Gellert Grindelwald.

Ulquiorra's eyebrows shot up of their own accord. Holy Dark Wizards Batman!

Grimmjow snorted derisively. "Who the hell names their kid Gellert?"

"According to this, Grindelwald was Bagshot's great-nephew." Ulquiorra reported from the The Greater Good'schapter intro, "He was expelled at age 16 from Durmstrang-" Grimmjow grunted something that sounded oddly enough like "Figures", "-for 'twisted experiments'. Apparently, he became close to Dumbledore, whose mother had just died. They were both brilliant, and sent letters to each other when they were struck with ideas, even in the dead of night."

"...They sound kind of gay." Grimmjow cut in bluntly, and Ulquiorra stared at him. Re-read the paragraph of the book. Nodded. "They do, actually. Anyway, they-Oh, dear lord."

"What?" Grimmjow asked and Ulquiorra handed him the book. Grimmjow's eyebrows furrowed as he read aloud.

"Gellert—

Your point about Wizard dominance being FOR THE MUGGLES' OWN GOOD—this, I think is the crucial point. Yes, we have been given power and yes, that power gives us the right to rule, but it also gives us responsibilities over the ruled. We must stress this point, it will be the foundation stone upon which we build. Where we are opposed, as we surely will be, this must be the basis of all our counterarguments. We seize control FOR THE GREATER GOOD. And from this it follows that where we meet resistance, we must use only the force that is necessary and no more. (This was your mistake at Durmstrang! But I do not complain, because if you had not been expelled, we would never have met.)

Albus...What the hell is this crap?" Grimmjow exclaimed furiously. He shoved the book back at the bat, still steaming. "And I don't know about Grindelwald, but Dumbledore is so gay for this guy."

Ulquiorra flipped to page 463, where it was said a copy of the original letter was. He analyzed the handwriting. It matched Albus Dumbledore's perfectly. Ulquiorra tilted his head and peered at the the signature. Huh. The 'A' in Albus is replaced by that mark. That triangular mark in the Tales of Beetle Bard.

"The friendship between the two died with Ariana Dumbledore's death, according to the book." Ulquiorra continued, feeling disturbed at Dumbledore's (former) dictatorial and rather horrible view on Muggles. "Grindelwald left immediately after she died, and it implies that he killed the girl. Oh, and apparently Dumbledore's brother was the one to break his nose." Ulquiorra added with mild interest. "Dumbledore never saw Grindelwald again until their famous duel." He finished, closing the book. "Well. That's interesting." Grimmjow was looking at the tent ceiling in thought. "The Greater Good...The Greater Good... That was Grindelwald's slogan! It was carved into the entrance of Nurmengard."

"...Nurmengard?" Grimmjow stared at him surprised. "Didn't they teach history at Hogwarts?"

"It was taught by a ghost that made the students want to kill themselves. It was like Tousen rambling about justice. Except less interesting." Grimmjow looked a little sick at the mere thought.

"Oh. Well, Nurmengard was the prison he built to put his opponents I think. Ended up there, in the end."

"You go."

"You go."

"I hate water."

"So do I."

"I'm a cat."

"Tigers are cats and they like water."

"I'm not Ggio!"

The two were in the Forest of Dean. November had just started, and Ulquiorra had apparated them there to plan their next move. He had never been, and neither had Grimmjow, but Ulquiorra remembered seeing it on a travel brochure during a trip to the grocery when he was younger. The Forest was consisted of thick trees, dark tangled undergrowth, and covered in a clean thick sheet of snow. As Grimmjow said, it looked like a "Goddamn fucking Christmas card". Anyway, earlier that night, Ulquiorra had seen a silver doe Patronus. After a 30 second staring contest, the doe moved her head to gesture that he follow and Ulquiorra, after getting Grimmjow, complied. The lovely doe led them through bushes and low-hanging tree branches (that hit them in the face at least twice) to a frozen pond and vanished. The two had stared at each other, wiped away the snow, than stared through the cracked black icy surface and spotted the gleaming sword of Gryffindor.

Which had led to their current argument.

"I'm not doing it." Ulquiorra said flatly as he pointed his wand towards the pond, silently breaking the ice. He didn't remove his gaze from his partner.

"And neither am I." Grimmjow snapped back, silently attempting to summon the sword, his line of vision not straying from his dark companion.

Serverus Snape, who was spying on the two from the safety of dark trees and bushes, stared at them as they bickered. What the hell? He thought to himself as the two continued to argue. He had expected Potter to bring along Weasely and the Granger girl. Not the foreigner that strutted loudly into the Order's life a few years back.

Seriously, what is this? Snape continued to wonder, gaping from the shadows as Grimmjow(?) attempted to push Potter into the freezing water, who retaliated by kicking Grimmjow firmly and painfully in the stomach.

"I destroyed the last Horcrux!"

"I nearly died killing a basilisk to destroy the first one! When I was twelve!"

"I'm older!"

"That is just pathetic." Ulquiorra sighed, resting his head in his hand, the other hanging by his side gripping his wand. Murciélago-?

Not even if Hell froze over and you paid me.

"If I do it, I get to choose what we eat for dinner for the next month." Ulquiorra griped after a minute of tense and desperate (from the frantic brainstorming of ways to get out of it) silence. Grimmjow's eyes narrowed. "Week."

"Three weeks."

"Two weeks."

"Deal." Ulquiorra sighed, removing his clothes. "I hate you by the way."

"Meh."

The drenched bat tossed the damn sword onto the bank, and Grimmjow grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the freezing water, pointing his wand at him, immediately drying/warming him up so he didn't freeze to death. Ulquiorra shook his head of any remaining water, despite that there was none, habitually and huffily shoved his clothes back on. "That thing better be worth it."

"...It's not a Horcurx."

"Then why the hell did I go to so much effort to get the damn thing?!"

They decided to keep it around, in the end. Just in case.

That, and Grimmjow liked how shiny it was. Ulquiorra supposed somethings never changed.

The two climbed up the steep hill to the home of the Lovegoods. The pair had decided it was time to uncover the mystery behind the strange symbol that had been constantly popping up all of a sudden. After a month of deliberating what to do, they decided since they didn't have any major leads on a Horcurx, they should go on and find out what the hell the symbol meant. Although Murciélago was doing her best to hack Voldemort's mind for more Horcurx locations.

It's all about planting fear. She explained sagely. If I get him paranoid that we were after Nagini because she's a Horcrux, which we were, then he'll start checking up on the rest, revealing the locations of the others.

That's... brilliant.

I know-Why do you sound so surprised? Ulquiorra mentally smirked as she began to halfheartedly wail about his lack of faith. The effect was ruined by her giggling at the end of her rant.

It was mid-December, and Christmas break was upon the students of Hogwarts. Frost dusted the grass and weeds, crunching and cracking under the two's feet. Grimmjow stomped through the partially frozen grass, leaving large footprints in the ground, but Ulquiorra stepped with more grace. The sky overhead was a dishwater blue with pale gray clouds drifting along with the crisp winter wind.

Ulquiorra glanced towards the direction of the Burrow, which wasn't too far from the Lovegood residence. Grimmjow looked towards his line of vision and furrowed his brows. His left ear twitched uncomfortably with the same twinges of guilt Ulquiorra felt.

"It was for the best." Grimm said, his strong tone cracked with uncertainty. "Someone had to go back to that school of yours and look out for the kits-er, younger students." Ulquiorra was so lost in thought that he didn't even tease Grimmjow's use of the word 'kit' for the younger students of Hogwarts. "I suppose." he replied vaguely, turning away from the distant shape of the hedges and orchard concealing Burrow towards the direction of the Lovegood home. After some walking and apprehension, they faced the door of Luna's house. The two craned their necks upward to study the fittingly-odd house. It looked like a black rook from a chess set, with a moon hanging behind it, despite the pleasant afternoon.

"That's...expected." Grimmjow said in unsurprised disbelief. Ulquiorra nodded, not even batting an eye at the strange home. Grimmjow hadn't been as exposed to Luna's peculiarities as Ulquiorra had. He wasn't yet immune. "What did you expect after seeing the garden?" Ulquiorra asked dryly, knocking firmly on the door. Grimmjow glanced back towards the winding pathway up to the doorstep, retaking in the Snargaluff, crab apple tress, mistletoe, and a bunch of bushes containing orange radishes that reminded Ulquiorra of the earrings Luna liked to wear.

About ten seconds later, Xenophilius appeared after flinging the door open. Grimmjow cocked an eyebrow, and Ulquiorra inclined his head to the right by a barely noticeable centimeter. Remembering his vibrant, although spacey, appearance at the wedding, Ulquiorra wondered what had happened. His white-blonde hair was in disarray, his nightshirt had multiple stains, and his face was haggard with shadows under his eyes. It appeared that he hadn't shaved in a while either. He was also barefoot.

"What? Who is it? What do you want?" The frazzled man glanced between the two boys wildly, his voice shaky and drenched with nervousness.

"Erm," Ulquiorra started, thrown by the sheer lack of Luna in the man. "My name is Harry Potter." Xenophilius's head snapped to him, his mouth dropping in a perfect O of shock. Ulquiorra mentally rolled his eyes (Murciélago chose the less mature route and stuck her long tongue out at the man within their mindscape) as eyes flickered up to his forehead for the trademark lightning bolt. His hair covered it now that it had calmed down last year, but for the sake of time, he slipped a hand out of his pocket and moved it out of the way. The scar was tinged white in the cold air.

"I would like to speak with you about something. If I may," Ulquiorra side-stepped the flabbergasted wizard and entered the residence with ease, Grimmjow following, neck craning from looking around the strange house. "Did I just enter a giant pot?" Grimmjow uttered under his breath in puzzlement in regards to the kitchen the two entered. The walls were curved like the two were standing inside a humungous teapot, except without the spout or handle. There was a iron spiraling staircase in the middle of the room that lead to the second floor. Everything, including the sink and cupboards, were curved and made to fit the walls and everything was covered in bright paintings of insects, birds, and flowers. It reminded Ulquiorra of Orihime and Luna, since the two were very similar. Ulquiorra would later think that they were two sides of the same coin; Luna was cooler, more nonchalant and laid back with her dreamy air and crazy thoughts. Orihime, on the other hand, was louder, more energetic and seemed more solid with her fantastic daydreams. It was like comparing a dragonfly to a firefly.

And Ulquiorra was like a moth, drawn to the light that Orihime radiated to the point of fatality.

The two were taken upstairs by a very disgruntled Xenophilius. They climbed up the spiraling stairs to another circular room that was obviously some type of workshop. Ulquiorra deducted that this was where The Quibbler was printed when he spotted the magically engineered (and outdated) printing press.

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes when Grimmjow raised his pointer finger level to his temple and made the 'Crraaaaazzyyy' motion in regards to Xenophilius when he pulled a tablecloth, causing books and papers to topple and fly to the ground, from a worktable to drape over the press.

"Now, why are you here?" Ulquiorra had moved to the wall and was examining a strange and rather dangerous artifact on the wall. "You have an Erumpent horn on your wall." he said matter-of-factly. "That's very explosive." he frowned, still examining the swirled markings at the base. "Why do you have an Erumpent horn on your wall?" His eyebrow twitched in irritation as Grimmjow used his height advantage and pushed him down so the panther could study the horn, using Ulquiorra's head as an armrest. Ulquiorra's hand twitched towards his wand when Xenophilius huffed petulantly, causing both Grimmjow and Ulquiorra to turn towards him.

Not that the bastard stopped using him as an armrest. Murciélago thought it was hilarious. Figures.

"That, Mr. Potter, is the horn of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack." Xenophilius huffed, causing Ulquiorra to blink and Grimmjow to gape. Grimmjow's arm, in shock of the stupidity(?), slid off Ulquiorra's head slowly. Ulquiorra, who had some immunity to the Lovegood loonies, elbowed him harshly in the ribs. This elicited a strong stream of French cursing from the blonde.

"...If you're anything like Luna, I doubt I will be able to persuade you." Ulquiorra said finally, tearing his eyes away from the potential death trap. "I would recommend getting rid of it, just the same. I was wondering where Luna was, actually." Ulquiorra noticed that Xenophilius tensed and became even more jittery than before. It wasn't reassuring. "Hogwarts's Christmas break started already. Although there is...new management," Ulquiorra put bitter emphasis on 'new management', "the scheduling should not have changed."

"Luna is down at the stream, fishing for Freshwater Plimpies." Lovegood cut in hastily, his voice shaking. He gulped nervously, eyes darting between our two protagonists. "She . . . she will like to see you. I'll go and call her and then—very well. I shall try to help you." He quickly left the room down the stairs.

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow watched his back until it had disappeared and they heard the faint slamming of a door on the floor below. They looked at each other.

"...Make this a quick visit?"

"Seems like the best idea."

"The hell is that?" Grimmjow asked incredulously at the bust of a woman. The bust itself was perfectly normal. It was what was on her head that baffled the two. It was adorned with what looked like golden ear trumpets, tiny glittering blue wings that looked like it came straight out of the Muggle Disney movie Peter Pan, and one of the infamous orange radishes topping it off.

"Cher Dieu, c'est affreux (Dear God, that's hideous)." Grimmjow voice breathed, like he was in sheer awe of the lack of aesthetic appeal. Ulquiorra looked at him strangely, but didn't say anything. It was pretty horrible.

"Ah, you have spotted my pet invention," Xenophilius said, shoving a tea tray into Grimmjow's arms and turning to face the statue with Ulquiorra. "Modeled, fittingly enough, upon the head of the beautiful Rowena Ravenclaw. 'Wit beyond measure is a man's greatest treasure!'"

Murciélago metaphorically sweatdropped. Ugh.

"The Deathly Hallows?"

"That's right," said Xenophilius. "You haven't heard of them? I'm not surprised. Very, very few wizards believe. Witness that knuckle-headed young man at that Weasely boy's wedding who attacked me for sporting the symbol of a well-known Dark wizard!"

Ulquiorra turned his head towards Grimmjow and muttered, "I thought I stopped Krum from attacking him." Grimmjow shrugged. "I think he went back when you were being suckered in by the Dode guy."

"Doge"

"Whatever."

"-Such ignorance." Xenophilius continued, either oblivious to the conversation or expertly ignoring it. "There is nothing Dark about the Hallows—at least, not in that crude sense. One simply uses the symbol to reveal oneself to other believers, in the hope that they might help one with the Quest."

"...The...Quest?"

"To find all of the Deathly Hallows, of course." Xenophilius took a sip of the rather disgusting looking tea he had brought up and said this as if he were stating the weather. Ulquiorra sighed. "And the Deathly Hallows are?"

"You are familiar with the 'Tale of the Three Brothers' right?" Ulquiorra blinked. "...No."

"Yes." Grimmjow chimed in at the exact same time, and Grimmjow blinked confusedly when Ulquiorra stared at him with raised eyebrows. "What? It's a fairy tale. Everybody knows it."

"Raised by Muggles, Grimmjow."

"Oh. Right. Uh, actually." Grimmjow slung his rucksack from his shoulder and rummaged through it, "It's this." he finally pulled out the battered book of The Tales of Beetle Bard. "I don't read runes, so I can't translate directly, but I got the gist."

"So, what is it?"

"So, there are three brothers walking along some creepy road at midnight. Why, I have no idea. Maybe they were drunk, but anyway. They came across a river that they couldn't walk across nor swim across. So, being wizards and all, they just make a bridge. And Death appears in the middle of the bridge, cuz' he's pissed that he didn't get to kill them like the rest of the suckers that die crossing the river. But Death had a plan, and congratulates them. He offers each of them a gift as a reward for escaping him. The eldest one asks for an unbeatable wand. So Death finds an elder tree and make a wand from one of the branches. He gives it to the oldest one. The second brother was an arrogant douche, so in order to humiliate Death even further-"

"Well, that's smart."

"-Right? Anyway, he asks for the power to recall people from Death. So Death picks up a pebble from the riverbank and gives it to the second brother, saying it had the power to bring back the dead. The youngest one, who was the only one smart enough to realize Death was screwing with them, asks for something that would allow him to be undetected by Death. So Death gives him his Cloak of Invisibility."

"Invisibility Cloak?" Ulquiorra asked sharply, thinking of his own in his bag. Grimmjow's eyes glinted knowingly. "Yeah. So the three brothers have their gifts and go on their merry way. The first one goes to a bar or something, and picks a fight with some guy whom he kills with the Elder Wand. It's called the Elder Wand right?" Grimmjow muttered the last sentence to himself, before shaking his head and continuing. "So, he wins, goes to an inn, and brags about great his wand is since he got it from Death. Naturally, when he's sleeping, some other guy sneaks into his room, steals it and kills him. And Death takes him, like planned.

The second brother, who'll you'll be able to relate to, goes home and using the stone, summons the girl he wanted to marry who died before the wedding. However, she was dead and still tied to the spirit world, and was unhappy in the World of the Living since, well, she was dead. The second brother goes crazy and kills himself. Death takes him too, as planned.

The third brother, however, is able to evade Death for the remainder of the life thanks to the Cloak. Death looks for him and all, but he can't find him. Finally, when the third brother is an old man, he passes the Cloak to his son, and goes with Death as his equal."

"The Deathly Hallows." Xenophilius said, putting down his tea and getting a piece of paper and a quill. "The Elder Wand-" he drew a vertical line, "-The Resurrection Stone-" he drew a circle, the edge of the shape touching the bottom of the 'wand', but didn't encase the entire line. "-and the Invisibility Cloak." He drew a triangle that surrounded the other markings, finishing the elusive and mysterious symbol that had been stalking Ulquiorra and Grimmjow for the last four months. "Together, they are the Deathly Hallows. Whomever possesses all three will become the Master of Death."

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow paled.

That...didn't sound good. Especially knowing their...associates.

"It is believed by Questers-"

"'Quester' isn't a word, Mr. Lovegood-"

"-that the Peverell brothers were the original owners of the Hallows. Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus." Xenophilius picked up the tea tray with his empty cup (and Ulquiorra and Grimmjow's full ones) and carried it downstairs, his voice drifting behind him. "Stay for dinner won't you? We're famous for our freshwater Plimpy soup!" Grimmjow turned vaguely green and shuddered.

"Eurgh. So, this whole Hallow thing. Whaddya think?" Ulquiorra shrugged. "We've seen weirder things." Ulquiorra admitted. "It's not such a hard thing to believe. We know that Death, while not a single person, essentially exists."

"We know that spirits can travel and linger in the World of the Living, although not with ease unless they have high reitsu." Grimmjow continued thoughtfully. "Not to mention your cloak. I hadn't really thought about, but retelling that story made me realize your Invisibility Cloak isn't like others."

"It's not?"

"No...other cloaks are just regular cloaks with Disillusionment Charms. They fade and become opaque over time. And they can get scratched or damaged. Yours is still in perfect condition."

"It also used to belong to my father, so it's not new or anything either." Ulquiorra murmured, leaning against the printing press, chin in hand. "It could be possible that it's the real one from the tale. But are the Deathly Hallows really important right now? Why did Dumbledore want us to learn about them? What is the significance in relation to the Horcruxes?"

"Lovegood mentioned 'Master of Death'." Grimmjow said slowly, "That sounds like something Voldemort-"

And that's when everything went to hell.

The sharp cracks of Apparation sounded in the press room, and Ulquiorra and Grimmjow whipped out their wands to point and their wizard opponents pointing their wands at them. They stared each other down, before the other chuckled. It was Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf Death Eater who bought his way into Voldemort's forces through hired savagery. Ulquiorra knew that not many of the (important) Death Eaters (except Malfoy and some guys who luckily weren't here) knew Grimmjow, especially with the recent blue eye markings he got when he and Ulquiorra got their tattoos the last two summers ago. Ulquiorra knew he would be the problem. While the only Death Eaters that had seen him without his glasses and with his tattoos were really Snape and Malfoy (and Voldemort), he still wasn't sure if he would be able to get away unrecognized.

Grimmjow hissed at Greyback, his lips drawing back into a snarl. His shoulders tensed and rose a fraction. Ulquiorra suddenly realized he was acting like a cornered cat, back arched, fur puffed, and hissing, in the face of a dog. Greyback himself was growling at Grimmjow, but was grinning wildly, like he was looking at his next meal. Or plaything.

"Well, well. Who do we have here?" Greyback panted, still grinning. Ulquiorra wrinkled his nose. He could smell the blood, dirt and sweat from across the room. He pitied Grimmjow, whose sense of smell was much sharper than Ulquiorra's. "You broke the Taboo." Grimmjow and Ulquiorra shared a sideways glance, wands still pointed. "Taboo?" Grimmjow finally asked. Greyback howled with laughter. "That's rich! They don't know about the Taboo on the Dark Lord's name! Ever heard of the Order of the Phoenix?"

"...No." Ulquiorra lied. Greyback licked his lips eagerly, causing Ulquiorra to lean back, despite there being an entire room between them. "The Order doesn't show the proper respect to the Dark Lord," the werewolf rasped giddily, "so we cursed the name. Anyone who says the Dark Lord's name is tracked down immediately. Caught us a few little birdies already."

"I'm Ulquiorra Schiffer." Ulquiorra said tonelessly, using his real name as an alias. Grimmjow followed his lead, with a few variations. "I'm Grimmjow...Inoue." Grimmjow's face morphed into an apologetic/disgusted grimace, which he directed at Ulquiorra who glared at him with fire and death in his eyes.

"What house you in at Hogwarts, Sch-Sch-er, you." Greyback pointed to Ulquiorra with his wand, unable to pronounce his last name, to Ulquiorra's ire. "I didn't go to Hogwarts." Ulquiorra lied frostily. "Grimmjow and I are from Germany-" Germany?!

It was the first country that popped into my head, alright?

"-and we were taking our Apparation test. We missed the mark by a long while apparently." Ulquiorra finished coolly. Grimmjow, catching on, scoffed. "Seriously, how the hell did you get us here?" He glared at Ulquiorra. "We were supposed to end up in Munich arschloch!" Ulquiorra blinked at Grimmjow, wondering why he knew the German word for 'asshole', but figured that this was Grimmjow. "Well, maybe if you hadn't hit on those girls while I was concentrating, we would be in Munich dummkopf."

Judging from the slackening faces of their enemies, Ulquiorra's fib about being from Germany was working, despite that were caught by saying an British Dark Wizard's name. The Snatchers were luckily not the brightest in the box.

It probably would've continued working if Lovegood hadn't come back at that moment with two actual Death Eaters grinning about how they caught Harry Potter.

Bastard.

It was an epic fight. It really was.

Bright side: Ulquiorra and Grimmjow got rid of the Death Eaters.

Down side: They were captured by the 'Snatchers' instead.

The Snatchers took the two, now bound and wandless, to the Malfoy Manor. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra had completely beat the two Death Eaters, Rowle and Dolohov, by cursing them both so hard they fell down the spiral staircase. Ulquiorra had heard at least one unpleasant snapping noise, and thus entertained the possibility one of them may have been killed in the fight. Lovegood had followed them down the stairs frantically, wailing about Luna. Ulquiorra figured Luna had been taken and that's why Lovegood called the Death Eaters on them. Eh, alright. He'd sell Lovegood out in a heartbeat for Orihime, so Ulquiorra supposed he would forgive him.

Judging from Grimmjow's screams of how he was a fucking bastard, Ulquiorra guessed Grimmjow hadn't reached the same empathy.

Anyway, with the two Death Eaters useless and possibly dead, the Snatchers (none bearing the Dark Mark) had to take them to the nearest Death Eater base. AKA the Malfoys'.

Ulquiorra was on his knees, along with Grimmjow, glaring up at Narcissa Malfoy as she gasped at the two. "Yes, that's him! That's Potter! I know him from Madam Malkin's that one time! It's Potter, isn't it Draco?" Draco Malfoy, still pale and pointy faced, barely glanced at the two, his face filled with fear and reluctance. "I dunno. Maybe." was all he said as he moved back towards the fireplace. Narcissa, unfortunately, was certain(ly correct) that Ulquiorra was the real deal. "Lucius!" she called desperately for her husband, "Lucius! Come quickly! We've caught Potter! Call the Dark Lord!"

The head of the Malfoy family came bursting in, a vicious smile on his face that slid off when he spotted Ulquiorra. "Ah, Narcissa." He said in the usual cold drawl, which, Ulquiorra admitted, was rather gentle when addressing his wife, "Dear. Are you sure that's Potter?" Narcissa nodded impatiently. "I'm positive Lucius. Call-"

"Cissy?" A new voice echoed in the room as another walked in. "Cissy, what's wrong? I heard yelling."

"Well, this is just swell." Grimmjow muttered as they faced all three Malfoys, Bellatrix Lestrange, and three Snatchers, including Fenrir Greyback, bound on the floor and wandless.

Ulquiorra couldn't help but agree.

The two sat there in front of the group of Death Eaters, irritation coming of them in waves as the Death Eaters bickered and debated on whether or not Ulquiorra was Harry Potter.

Fifteen minutes later, and they were still debating. "Just give him a truth potion or something!" Greyback finally shouted out, irritated with the lack of initiative, prey, or food (aka, whomever was the poor bastard that got stuck with him). Ulquiorra and Grimmjow glared at him. "Chien sale (Filthy Dog)" Grimmjow muttered at him, causing the Malfoy family to look at him strangely.

"Was...that French?"

"You said you were German!"

"Well, obviously I lied!" Ulquiorra snapped back at the betrayed sounding accusation thrown at him by Greyback. "Honestly, why would I tell the truth in that situation? Morons, the lot of you."The Malfoys and Lestrange looked at him, eager glints (excluding Draco) in their eyes. Crap. "Well, this couldn't be much worse." Ulquiorra griped in irritation. Grimmjow shook his head in mock condensation. "It could always be much worse. We could be total idiots who don't even know what's going on. Or Muggle-borns." He added as afterthought. Ulquiorra rolled his eyes. "Are all Purebloods crazy, or am I just an unfortunate bastard that only encounters the insane ones?" He snapped at Grimmjow, who glowered. "I ain't crazy!"

"I beg to differ."

"I'LL KILL YOU-"

"SHUT UP!" Bellatrix screamed shrilly, causing the two to shut up. She turned to Grimmjow, with a slightly warmer aura. Granted, it warmed from Arctic glacier to a slightly more southern glacier, but it was progress. "You're a Pureblood?"

"Yeah. Why is that so important in Britain anyway?" Grimmjow wondered, making Ulquiorra wish he could face palm. Bellatrix turned her nose up at him, eliciting an indignant snarl from Grimmjow. "So, a blood traitor then."

"I'm not even British! How am I blood traitor if I'm not even from this hell of a country?!"

"You just are. Get over it." Ulquiorra hissed through gritted teeth. Don't kill him, Ulquiorra. Think of Orihime...

Oh. Wow, that actually really helped.

"Search their bags!" Narcissa said shakily. "To check." The Snatchers did what they were told, eyebrows raised at the sheer amount of stuff they managed to have in there thanks to the charms they cast.

"Hmmm...clothes, shoes, toothbrush..." Ulquiorra and Grimmjow shared a long suffering sigh.

"...tent, rune dictionary..." ...Are they just listing off every item you have in there...?

Apparently.

...Wow.

"...photo album of-wow, that girl has huge breasts." Ulquiorra's eyebrow twitched angrily.

"Well, doesn't she look delicious." Greyback growled, a lustful smile on his face. The twitching wasn't just twitching anymore. Now Ulquiorra's entire face was contorted in disgust and anger. "I bet she'd be a scrumptious meal-"

"Finish that sentence and I swear to God I'll find a way to kill you in the most horrible way possible." Ulquiorra snarled, his voice so dark and angry it caused everyone except Grimmjow to flinch in shock. "And believe me. I know a lot of ways." The Snatcher feebly closed the album and opened the second while another Snatcher began searching through Grimmjow's bag. "Uh, an old book, toilet paper, shaving kits, sword-"

"WHAT?!" Bellatrix shrieked to everyone's surprise and everyone in the room winced at the pain in their eardrums. Especially Ulquiorra and Murciélago, who was trembling in shocked agony, hands over her ears. Dear AIZEN! "SWORD! WHAT SWORD?!" She seemed to recoil in terror as the Snatcher confusedly pulled out Gryffindor's sword out of Grimmjow's bag, a greedy gleam in his eyes as he spotted the ruby hilt.

Well. Murciélago said numbly. That's an overreaction. Ulquiorra had to agree that madly stunning the three Snatchers in an insane fit of rage(?) to get Gryffindor's sword was an overreaction. She turned to him and shoved her wand into his neck angrily. Ow. He thought as he glared huffily into her frantic dark eyes. "Ow." he said pointedly to her, eyes flickering to her wand and back to make his point. She only pushed it further into his neck. His shoulders tensed in pain when a few angry sparks burned his skin, but had no further visible reaction.

"This sword," Lestrange panted, waving the heavy sword feebly with her non-wand hand, "Where did you get it?" Ulquiorra raised his eyebrows. "...Why does that matter?" he asked incredulously. "It's Gryffindor's sword."

"Snape gave me that sword! It's in my vault at Gringotts! Where did you get it?!" Ulquiorra blinked. "I bought it."

"Excuse me?"

"I bought it." Ulquiorra repeated, Murciélago feeding him the lies to hopefully get him and Grimmjow out alive. "It's just a copy. I found it sentimental." Bellatrix breathed heavily in his face, wand still digging into his skin. Ulquiorra fidgeted uncomfortably. Grimmjow glanced at the two awkwardly.

"He's lying." Bellatrix breathed panicked. Ulquiorra cursed mentally to Murciélago. Our defenses are up aren't they?

Yeah. They're as solid as ever. I've even put Voldiequiorra in cage, bound and gagged and everything.

MPHFFFF!

See? She's just grabbing at straws.

Ulquiorra tuned back to the conversation when he was jerked back up to standing along with Grimmjow and was shoved towards a door. Lucius was talking about a goblin and demanding that Draco take them to the cellar. Draco shakily complied, forcing them at (rather terrible) wandpoint to the cellar, which they calmly walked into. As Draco demanded the goblin, Griphook, Grimmjow hissed something to him in French.

Griphook acknowledged the message with a twitch of his ears and a split-second glance towards the Frenchman, before walking off with Grimmjow. Ulquiorra turned to his partner in the darkness. "What did you say? And did he even understand you?" Grimmjow shrugged. "He's a goblin. They know pretty much every language if the country's important enough, because they handle all the money. He should know French. I and told him to tell those Death Eaters it's a copy. Worth a shot at any rate."

"Harry? Is that you?" Ulquiorra blinked away from Grimmjow and was able to recognize her voice instantly, the almost pitch black not a problem in identifying who was speaking..

"Luna?"

"Hello Harry," Luna said dreamily. "Oh, I was hoping that you wouldn't get caught." There was some shuffling and someone appeared behind Luna. "Harry?" Ulquiorra once again recognized the voice.

"Hello Dean." Ulquiorra nodded cordially in his direction. "Could either one of you possibly free us? It would be appreciated."

"Oh yes. We have a nail we use to break things...Mr. Ollivander? Where's the nail? Do you have it? I think it was by the water jug." There was some shuffling and Luna returned, presumably holding the tool to free them.

"Now hold still, I can't really see what I'm doing." Grimmjow's head snapped up. "The Deluminator! It's in my pocket. I think it still has some light in it." Ulquiorra really hated that device, mostly because Grimmjow loved to play with it, turning the lights on and off as he pleased in their tent like a giddy little school boy. However, Ulquiorra was grateful of Grimmjow's obsession with the stupid thing. Just this once.

Luna reached into Grimmjow's pocket rather boldly, either ignoring or entirely missing Grimmjow's teasing leer, and clicked the Deluminator. A single orb of light shot out and hovered in the dingy cellar, illuminating the gaunt, white faced trio of Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, and Mr. Ollivander. Dean and Luna gazed at Ulquiorra (and Grimmjow) with some awe (Dean) and faint joy/concern (Luna). Mr. Ollivander was curled motionless in the corner, not even registering their arrival.

Ulquiorra rolled his shoulders as his bound arms were freed, and Grimmjow likewise raised his arms in a luxurious stretch. "Much better." Grimmjow purred happily, drawing a puzzled but content smile from Luna. "You're welcome." She said distantly, looking over his shoulder quizzically. "I don't wish to alarm you, but there's a blue panther standing behind you. He looks rather nice, although a smidge frighting." She continued blithely, oblivious to the two Shinigami(?) whipping around to look behind them for Pantera. They saw nothing, and turned back to see Luna drifting over to Mr. Ollivander to return the oh-so-important-nail. "Here you are, Mr. Ollivander." She said kindly, not noticing the gaping face of Grimmjow and wide eyes of Ulquiorra. Sure, Luna had always been odd, but this took the cake. Or whatever that saying was.

"...Blue...Panther?" Grimmjow asked weakly. Luna stared at him with big shiny eyes and smiled. "Yes. He's rather handsome." she tilted her head. "His ears are nice. Very shiny teeth." Grimmjow flushed. "Uh..."

Ulquiorra felt an unpleasant prickling feeling of foreboding watching the two interact, but ignored it for the more pressing matter of their escape.

"Alright...I think I have a plan."

Murciélago grumbled to herself irritably. Why did she have to be the one to do this?

I mean, sure, Pantera's animal form was a bright blue panther, but still! Not fair.

Murciélago creeped along the rafters of the drawing room as a tiny bat, watching as Griphook the goblin studied the sword of Gryffindor. She crept past them all as Griphook ran a hand over the blade and and searched for Ulquiorra and Grimmjow's wands. She wished her eyesight wasn't so crappy, it would make this mission a lot easier. Sure she could see perfectly in the dark, but only when there was sound. Even just a drip of water, but with the Death Eater's baited breath and the goblin's silent contemplation, she didn't have much to go on.

"Hmmm...nice, very nice." Griphook murmured. Murciélago huffed. Finally! Using the sound waves cast by his voice, her sonar quickly bounced across every inch of the room.

There they are! Murciélago mentally squealed. Hey Master! I found them! They're in the Snatchers' pockets!

Why weren't they removed?

They were probably too distracted by the sword to remember to retrieve them. But I'm on it!

Good luck.

Grinning happily, Murciélago carefully swooped down to the Snatchers and crouched behind one of their unconscious bodies. Her tiny form was easily hid from the Death Eater's view, not that they were paying any attention to her.

"It's very well made...for a wizard creation." Griphook continued, scoffing at the word wizard. Murciélago smiled widely, showing tiny little white teeth , before grabbing Grimmjow's wand in her mouth like a dog with a bone and staggering slightly, eyes watering in pain as her mouth was stretched to it's limits to carry the damn thing. ARGH. This sucks. She thought grumpily, edging to the second Snatcher and pulling out Ulquiorra's wand with a miniscule hand. She grabbed her Master's wand with her feet (which was much easier and more comfortable) and clumsily shot up to the rafters. It was hard getting up to the safety of the shadows with Grimmjow's wand crammed in her mouth. It set off the balance of her flight, making her sway in the air like a drunkard.

"Was that a bat?" Draco Malfoy, that little blonde brat she hated, asked startled, seeing the awkward movement of her lopsided flight.

"What was that Draco?" Narcissa, his mother if Murciélago recalled correctly, which she most certainly did, asked absentmindedly as she watched her sister pant with giddy relief. Draco eyed the direction and general area where Murciélago rested, before averting his eyes. "N-Nothing Mother. A trick of the light or something."

Well. That was interesting. And with that thought, she promptly disappeared with the two wands to reappear in the Inner World of her Master, just as Bellatrix laughed insanely with triumph and pressed her forefinger to the Dark Mark, summoning the Dark Lord.

Ulquiorra met Murciélago in the caverns of his mind as she materialized in her bat body with his wand clutched in her feet and Grimmjow's in...her mouth. He would be sure to tell him how his Zanpaktou decided to carry his wand, he thought with a smirk. Now he at least understood why he heard her yelp and gripe in pain a few minutes back. Spitting Grimmjow's wand on the ground and releasing his own, she returned to normal humanoid form and handed the two wands to Ulquiorra. "Here ya go." She said cheerfully. "Griphook covered for you guys by the way. And Bellatrix called Voldemort, so hurry up." She said this all very brightly, happy with her success. She hadn't really gotten over her last failure in her small stature; the Malfoy espionage fiasco. Ulquiorra could feel the feeling of redemption coming from her in waves, having made up for the past. Ulquiorra had never really blamed her for that, she had gotten the information they needed (and even than, he wouldn't have been too angry), but she was much like him, and took failure hard.

"Alright." he murmured as he accepted the two wands. "Wish us luck." He smirked dryly as he faded out of his world into reality.

"Good luck~!"

Ulquiorra opened his eyes and stood up from his lotus position, handing Grimmjow his wand. "Voldemort is coming," Ulquiorra said brusquely, unlocking the door with his wand and leading them out of the cellar after he checked the hallway. "Luna, Dean, and Mr. Ollivander, apparate to Luna's house. It's probably abandoned now. Stay there for one hour. If we don't return by then, go to somewhere safe. Or run. Once we meet you there, we'll discuss a safe place to go."

"We want to help you Harry." Luna whispered, and Grimmjow coughed. "You're wandless." He muttered, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "It's best to get somewhere safe." Huh. That horrible feeling of dread suddenly came back when Grimmjow started talking to Luna. Weird. Ulquiorra shook it off. "Go. Now." Luna sighed and grabbed Dean and Mr. Ollivander's hands and disappeared with a sharp crack.

"Voldemort is far away," Ulquiorra said as they ran down the hall to the drawing room, wand ready. They had already run into Wormtail.

It...hadn't ended well.

Wormtail had attempted to stop and most likely kill them (or at least Grimmjow). Ulquiorra, in order to save time, had reminded the rat bastard that he had saved his life and that the man owed him. Wormtail had shown an involuntary brief twitch of mercy, and as punishment, his new solid silver hand that Voldemort had presented him with turned on its owner and strangled him to death.

Not wanting to watch him suffocate, and being pressed for time, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow ran ahead, leaving him to die.

"Luckily, that buys us some time." Ulquiorra continued, rounding a corner, Grimmjow at his side. Grimmjow looked at him, still running.

"How much time?" Ulquiorra's eyes flickered upward briefly in thought.

"...10...15 minutes?"

"Great."

Ulquiorra kicked open the door and slashed his wand towards Lucius Malfoy, "Serpensortia!" A large King Cobra shot from his wand and was flung at Malfoy, immediately wrapping around his wand arm. "Bite him." Ulquiorra hissed to the serpent, as he shot a curse at Narcissa, catching her off guard and slamming her into the opposite wall so hard so slumped to the ground knocked out cold. The cobra happily tried quite hard to oblige, aiming its sharp fangs at Malfoy's arm, who shook his arm desperately, screaming, in attempt to dislodge it. The snake clung on, however, and continued its efforts to bite the man and effectively distracted the Death Eater from attacking Ulquiorra. He then turned an countered a curse sent by Malfoy. "How dare you attack my mother Potter!" he shrieked furiously, shooting continuous curses at the Boy Who Lived.

"You are such a Mama's boy." Ulquiorra snapped back, hitting Draco with a Jelly-Fingers Curse, causing the boy to fumble with his wand and allowing Ulquiorra to smack him in the chest with a Stunner in a flash of red light. Ulquiorra turned to see Grimmjow having an epic duel with Lestrange.

He was disturbed how insane they both looked.

The two cursed, and countered, and hexed and jinxed and dodged each other's attacks in an extremely violent and agitated dance.

"Won't you just die already?!" Bellatrix screamed angrily, the stress of Voldemort's impending arrival (Ulquiorra's scar was prickling insistently) and fear of letting the two escape robbing her of her twisted battle banter.

"I could ask you the same thing, bitch!" Grimmjow roared back, attempting to hit her with a Leg-Locker curse, which she blocked. Seeing that the two were preoccupied, Ulquiorra inched his way to their packs and shouldered the both of them, after checking that everything was still there. He watched the two battle for a moment, when Murciélago screamed at him to hurry up. Grabbing Griphook's arm, who had been cowering in the corner with Gryffindor's sword, he dashed towards Grimmjow.

He had never done this before, but he needed something to throw her off guard.

"Crucio." He barked, his wand aimed at Bellatrix. It was weak, and didn't painfully torture, but merely threw her several feet away and onto her back, where she barely twitched in pain. However, it had her surprised like planned. He doubted she expected him to play dirty when he was one of the 'Good Guys'. He grabbed Grimmjow and Disapparated, taking Grimmjow, Griphook, and himself, along with their two bags and the sword of Gryffindor, back to the Lovegood residence just as Voldemort's appeared in the drawing room. Their hasty exit was haunted by his high screams of fury at another failed attempt to catch him.

As they landed in front of the Lovegood residence, now heavily damaged from their fight hours before, all Ulquiorra and Murciélago could simultaneously think was, Sucker.

Ulquiorra rummaged through his bag as he felt the now familiar twinges of suspicion and bottomless fear as he listened to Grimmjow and Luna chat, while Dean hung out with Ollivander and the goblin. Finally finding the two-way-mirror, he hastily wiped the dirty surface with his sleeve. He hadn't been sure about taking it with him, but in the end decided to in case of an emergency.

"Sirius Black." He said firmly to the mirror, watching with interest as white fog suddenly swirled in the glass much like a crystal ball. After a minute or two, the smoke cleared to reveal the tired, but fortunately well-kept and healthy face of Sirius Black. The former fugitive blinked in confusion before grinning so wide it looked like the smile would break off his face. "Harry!" Sirius exclaimed. "You're alright!" Ulquiorra smiled faintly. "Hello Sirius. How are things?" Sirius shrugged. "We're on the constant move. Pretty much all of us except for Bill are on the run."

"...How are Ron and Hermione?" Ulquiorra asked quietly, and Sirius's face turned awkward and gloomy. "They're with the Weaselys. They'll be returning to Hogwarts soon, Hermione in disguise, naturally." He said darkly. Ulquiorra frowned. "How is Hogwarts?"

"It's bad," came the grim reply. "Snape is Headmaster, and a couple of Death Eaters are the new DADA professors. Ron, Hermione, Neville and a bunch of other Gyrffindors are resisting, but it's hard."

"I see." Ulquiorra paused. "...How... mad are they?"

"Absolutely furious." Sirius admitted. "They're still upset and feel betrayed."

"I told them they weren't going to come." Ulquiorra defended weakly. Sirius shrugged. "Well, I guess they thought you changed your mind or didn't mean it."

"It's for the best." Ulquiorra decided. "Hogwarts needs defending from the inside. The younger students need protection." Sirius grinned weakly. "Anyway, Sirius, I need a safe location to stay at. Somewhere that Ron and Hermione are hopefully not staying at, though if push comes to shove..."

"Why?"

"I have rescued Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, Garrick Ollivander, and Griphook the goblin from Death Eater forces." Ulquiorra replied, drawing a bright and relieved grin from Sirius. "They need food, shelter, and a safe place to rest."

"Alright," Sirius said slowly. "But first I have to check that it's you." Ulquiorra dipped his head. "Of course."

"Hmmm...Oh! How did you find out I was your godfather?" Ulquiorra rolled his eyes. He had told the story of sneaking into Hogsmeade for the first time with the Marauder's Map and his father's cloak illegally to Sirius and how it was there he discovered the (one-sided) story of Sirius Black's crimes and that the man was his legal godfather. Sirius had thought it was hysterical and even bought him a butterbeer to compliment his mischief and law breaking.

"I snuck into Hogsmeade, and in order to not get caught breaking the law, I hid under a table in the Three Broomsticks, allowing me to overhear McGonagall, Fudge, Hagrid, Flitwick, and Madam Rosmerta talk about how you 'betrayed'," he made sure to put finger quotations, "my parents." Sirius barked with laughter. "That story never fails to make me laugh," he chortled, eyes brimming with pride. "Alright. Try Bill and Fleur's new place. It's called Shell Cottage. They'll take you lot in."

"Thanks Sirius. Oh, how is Tonks? Last I heard she was pregnant with Remus's possibly half-werewolf child." Ulquiorra inquired mildly, and Sirius snickered. "Good. She's due soon. Some time near New Years."

"A week or so then," Ulquiorra said lightly, referring to the fact that it was currently late December. "What's the exact date anyway?"

"Christmas is in two days."

"Lovely. Well, perhaps you'll visit us and not say a word to Ron and Hermione about it."

"Sure. See you soon, Harry. Be careful." Ulquiorra blinked in shock at the last sentence when the mirror's surface was once again obstructed by white smoke, indicating the end of the call.

"We'll go in groups." Ulquiorra said as he told the whole gang the location they were headed to. "Grimmjow, take Ollivander and Dean." Grimmjow scoffed, to Dean's ire, and Ulquiorra threw the former Hogwarts student an apologetic look. He just felt it would be best to keep Luna away from Grimmjow for some reason...

"I'll take Luna and Griphook. Remember, it's Shell Cottage owned by Bill and Fleur Weasely." Grimmjow shuddered. "Ergh. Fluer Weasely. Poor girl." and with that, the promptly slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed Dean and Ollivander and disappeared with a loud crack. Ulquiorra carefully made sure his rucksack was securely on his person when Luna grabbed his forearm and Griphook gripped his wrist tightly. "I'm not holding your hand." Griphook hissed distastefully at Ulquiorra, much to his relief. "Hold on tight to that," he said instead, nodding to the sword before Disapparating to Shell Cottage after his cat inclined partner.

It was a quaint little cottage by the sea. It was rather nice actually. Of course, Ulquiorra wasn't too fond of the sea, neither was Grimmjow, but it was still lovely regardless. It looked as though it could be on a postcard.

"How is everyone?" Ulquiorra asked Bill. They had gotten inside and as comfortable as they could about an hour ago. Bill had been reasonably shocked to see them all, since Ulquiorra and Grimmjow had vanished at his wedding and gone off the grid, leaving Ron and Hermione in the dust for months. However, he adapted quickly and commendably when he noticed the extremely injured and malnourished Ollivander and Griphook. Luna and Dean were doing better, but were still resting. "Griphook is mending. We gave him Skele-Grow." Bill reported, "And Ollivander is eating." Ulquiorra nodded. "Good. What will you do with them?" Bill shrugged. "We'll send Ollivander and Griphook to Muriel's with the rest of the family. We had to evacuate the Burrow," he explained hastily. "Ron, Ginny, and Hermione are relatively safe at school-"

"Meaning they won't be killed, at the very least." Ulquiorra murmured and Bill nodded, a bitter smile on his face. "Yeah. But the rest of the family doesn't have that, erm, protection." The word protection came out strangled, as if he couldn't believe he had ever said that.

"Sirius?"

"On the run, last I heard. He might be staying with Remus and Tonks."

"Remus went back to Tonks?" Bill nodded, looking much happier. "Oh yeah. Said he saw sense. That and he really missed her." Ulquiorra nodded. "Good." he said, trailing off faintly. "Before you send them off, I need to speak with both Griphook and Ollivander."

"Why? What are you doing Harry?" Bill asked quietly, and Ulquiorra shook his head. "Dumbledore's orders," he said, feeling ridiculous that those two words essentially guaranteed being left alone. "I can't say." Bill sighed, hanging his head, before bringing it back up tiredly. "Alright. Fine. But you'll have to wait."

"Yes! You will 'ave to wait, 'Arry. Zey are both too tired to talk now." Fleur chimed in at Bill's side. Ulquiorra shrugged. "Fine. But I have to speak with them both before they leave here."

"I need to break into a Gringotts vault." Ulquiorra said bluntly to Griphook in his room the next morning. Grimmjow stared at him like he was crazy.

"Are you crazy?" Grimmjow asked incredulously. Ulquiorra turned to him. "Bellatrix went positively mad when she thought we had broken into her vault. She has something valuable. Very valuable." He hoped Grimmjow would get the hint. Grimmjow's brow furrowed before it cleared. "Oh." he said in sudden understanding before squaring his shoulders. "Alright. We're going to possibly die, but I'm in." Griphook stared at the two. "It cannot be done." Griphook said with clear pride in his voice (well, he was a Gringotts goblin). "It's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible if you're strong, smart, and crazy enough." Ulquiorra said mildly. "Trust me. We know." Grimmjow scowled, obviously getting that he was referring to Kurosaki. "It's a very powerful vault. It belongs to the Lestranges."

"You have no chance," said Griphook flatly. "No chance at all. If you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours—"

"Thief, you have been warned, beware—yes, I remember," Ulquiorra said. "But we need to get into that vault to defeat Voldemort. And breaking into such a high security vault requires inside information."

"It is against our code to speak of the secrets of Gringotts. We are the guardians of fabulous treasures. We have a duty to the objects placed in our care, which were, so often, wrought by our fingers." Griphook said tightly, seemingly dismissing them. Ulquiorra tilted his head. "I am willing to deal." Griphook looked at him curiously. "Deal?" Ulquiorra nodded, and held up the sword of Gryffindor, having taken it from Griphook the previous night after he had fallen asleep. Ulquiorra noticed the greedy gleam in the goblin's eyes as he eyed the sword. "This is goblin made isn't it?" Ulquiorra asked rhetorically. "You see it as a goblin treasure."

"Yes." Griphook replied, anger coloring his voice. "It was taken from the goblins by the wizard Godric Gryffindor." Ulquiorra shrugged. "Whether that is or is not untrue is irrelevant right now, and too far back in the past for me to ever know. You help us break into the Lestrange vault, and I'll give you the sword of Godric Gryffindor."

"Hello Mr. Ollivander." Ulquiorra said softly, Grimmjow following him into the room. "How are you?" Ollivander beamed up at him. "Much better. I thought I was going to die in that place...I can never thank you enough." Ulquiorra looked uncomfortable. "It's fine. I have a question about a certain wand."

"Yes, yes, of course."

"It's about the Elder Wand." Ulquiorra said, searching Ollivander's face for a reaction. He got a clear one: fear. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wants the Elder Wand to kill me, doesn't he?" Ollivander licked his lips nervously, face drawn and pale. "H-How...how do you know that?"

"Doesn't matter. But that's what he wants isn't it? He couldn't defeat me with a borrowed wand, so he's trying to get one more powerful."

"Yes." Ollivander whispered. "Yes. You-Know-Who was always happy with his original wand, the wand I gave him, but he knows you're a rather formidable foe. He realizes now that it will take a very powerful wand that is not connected to yours to defeat you. However, he no longer seeks it solely to destroy you. He seeks to become invincible."

"You told him Gregorovitch had the wand." Ulquiorra stated and the wandmaker swallowed in fear. "It was a rumor. Long ago. Most likely started by Gregorovitch himself for publicity."

"I see. Thank you Mr. Ollivander. Get some more rest." Ulquiorra turned to leave the room, Grimmjow already out the door.

"I was tortured! ...The Cruciatus Curse...you have no idea..."

"It's fine. It barely even matters." Ulquiorra reassured the frantic wandmaker calmly. "Just get some sleep."

"It wasn't just a rumor was it?" Grimmjow asked in the deserted hallway. "He really did have it." Ulquiorra nodded. "Yes...Grindlewald, the one who stole from Gregorovitch, stole the Elder Wand and started his reign of terror. But he was defeated by Dumbledore-"

"-Who got the elder wand." Grimmjow finished. "And, uh, He's after it now." He said, stumbling on not saying Voldemort's name. "Does he know?"

"Not yet. But he will. He's coming close to the answer." Ulquiorra said quietly. "We can't go to Hogwarts. It's too risky. We need to focus on weakening...Him."

"So...the fate of the Wizarding World is decided by that goblin?"

"Pretty much."

"FUCK."

"You know how I said He's coming close to figuring out Dumbledore has the Elder Wand?"

"Yeah?"

"Scratch that. He has it now."

"Well, fuck."

"I have your word, Harry Potter, that you will give me the sword of Gryffindor if I help you?"

"Yes," said Ulquiorra.

"Then shake," said the goblin, holding out his hand. Ulquiorra shook, and the deal was made.

"Well then." Ulquiorra said. "Let's begin."

Murciélago?

Yeah?

How's that planting paranoia into Voldemort's mind going?

Not good. Some days I'm really close to making him snap, but then his "Oh, that couldn't happen. I'm Lord Voldemort, I'm awesome" arrogance kicks in and totally kills my progress! It's so annoying!

So, we have to actually get a Horcrux and have him know we got it to make him do anything?

Yep.

I hate this guy.

"It's a boy!" Lupin cried as he and Sirius were finally allowed entry way and burst into the cottage. "We've named him Ted, after Dora's father!" Ulquiorra stood up. "Tonks had the baby? That's early." Ulquiorra smiled a bit and shook the thrilled Lupin's hand. "Congratulations." Lupin beamed amid the congratulations, cheering, and Sirius's barking laughter surrounding him and pulled Ulquiorra for a jittery and enthusiastic hug. "Uh..."

"It's all thanks to you," Lupin murmured in Ulquiorra's ear. "You and that insane friend of yours. Thank you, Harry." Ulquiorra shifted awkwardly in the embrace. "Er, no problem." He hesitantly patted Lupin on the back. "...Please get off me." Lupin didn't take offense, but merely laughed loudly. Ulquiorra stared. The werewolf looked years younger, and was actually acting happy. It was a strange but not bad change. As Lupin moved on to talk to Bill and Fluer, boasting about the newest Lupin's shape-shifting abilities, Sirius came over and slapped Ulquiorra on the back. "Harry! Good to see you alive and not horribly injured!" He laughed and Ulquiorra smirked. "Hello Sirius. Been doing well?"

"I've done worse." Sirius grinned. "Hard to get any worse than Azkaban." Ulquiorra's smirked turned wry. "I'm sorry, but I don't have a present. My survival will have to sate you." Sirius chuckled. "Don't worry. Your safety is good enough for me. I, however, was able to find time to get you a present, since I'm not on a perilous journey to save the world and all." Ulquiorra let a small chuckle out (that was really more an exhaling of amused breath) and opened the small package.

It was a watch. Ulquiorra quirked an eyebrow. "I do already have a watch you know." He said, pulling his tattered and not often used golden pocketwatch out of his pocket. Sirius grinned. "Yeah, but this one is better." He took it out of the small box and strapped the watch on his wrist. Naturally it was in an older model that had gone out of style about ten years ago, like most wizard objects. It had black leather strap and a larger than normal gold circular face. It had Harry James Potter engraved in the back.

It had 7 blank black hands shaped similarly to spoons and no numbers. Instead of numbers there were 12 inscriptions; Home, School, Work, Traveling, Social Outing, Lost, Hospital, Prison/Kidnapped, Quidditch, Mortal Peril, Other (Friendly) Residence and Dead.

"This is a mimic of the Weasely family clock." Ulquiorra said, very impressed. He had always admired that clock. It was a fantastic magical object. Sirius beamed, hearing the admiring tone in Ulquiorra's voice. "Yup. I had Arthur take the clock apart and make a replica. He had a brilliant time doing it although I had him add the Other (Friendly) Residence and Dead option what with us being at war and all. The Social Outing was just for irony," Ulquiorra rolled his eyes, "So you open it up-" Sirius opened the glass protecting the clock hands and using his wand, gently removed the little screw thing keeping the hands in place and raised one up in the air. Using his non-wand hand, he opened a miniscule hatch, showing that the watch hand in the air was hollow. Sirius than plucked a hair from his head and slipped it inside. "There." Sirius said triumphantly. "I don't know exactly how it works, but just do that with everyone you want in the watch."

"OW!" Grimmjow yelled angrily as Ulquiorra unceremoniously yanked a blonde hair off his head and carefully put it in the watch. Ulquiorra already had Sirius (Traveling) and placed the spoon-like watch hand with a picture of Grimmjow on the bowl back in the watch. It clicked over to Traveling before settling to Other (Friendly) Residence on the space where the 11 would be.

"Damn Motherfucker..."

"Shut up Grimmjow."

"Luna, could I have one of your hairs for my watch?"

"Hm? Oh, sure Harry."

"Thanks" Also Other (Friendly) Residence.

They were ready. Took 'em a couple weeks to bullshit a plan, but they were ready.

Mostly.

"I don't like this." Grimmjow said. Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow. "Of course you don't." Ulquiorra agreed, Griphook nodding along side him.

Griphook and Ulquiorra got along fairly well, shocking Bill Weasely, who had never seen the unfriendly goblin got along with a wizard before. Ulquiorra had nodded sagely and had said it was their mutual love for not touching other people and their disdain for the average human's lack of intelligence. And he then walked away. Like a Boss.

Anyway, the reason Grimmjow didn't like this was because he was Polyjuiced into looking like Bellatrix. It wasn't fun for Grimmjow but Ulquiorra thought it was kinda funny seeing Bellatrix scowl, talk and walk and stand like a man. Or in this case, a pouty five year old.

"Suck it up." Ulquiorra said, grimacing along with Griphook as the goblin climbed up to cling to Ulquiorra's shoulder's piggy back style. Ugh. Ulquiorra mentally groaned. Physical contact. "Are we ready to go?" Grimmjow grimaced. "Yeah, yeah. Let's do this."

"Oh. You two are leaving now?" A dreamy voice rang out behind them, causing the two wizards (and by association, goblin) to whirl around and see Luna calmly walk up to them. "Luna." Ulquiorra said awkwardly. "This...isn't exactly what it looks-"

"Oh yes, I can see that." Luna hummed, drifting over to Grimmjow's side and petting the air. "Hello, Blue Cat. How lovely to see you again." Grimmjow blushed and rubbed the back of his (her?) neck. Ulquiorra felt dread again. He really needed to figure out what that meant, it was at the tip of his tongue.

Uh...

"You two are leaving again. Do be careful. Dangerous things unseen can lurk about, you know."

"Erm. Yes." Ulquiorra said. Grimmjow grinned widely, which looked terribly out of place and Bellatrix's face. "Mr. Ollivander made me a new wand." Luna said amiably, "Dean seems a bit put out. Do you have a wand Grimmjow?" Ulquiorra stared at Grimmjow. "Grimmjow?" He said, eyes narrowing. "Well, she'd figure it out anyway." Grimmjow hissed back defensively as Ulquiorra glared at him for not even trying to hide his real name from the airy girl. Grimmjow turned back to Luna. "Yeah. I have a wand."

"Yes, but is it a proper wand?" Luna asked happily. "True and proper for a witch of your station?"

"What are you talking abou-Oh shit."

10 minutes of arguing and attempted planning later...

"...Alright, I don't have anything substantial to contribute."

"...Imperious Curse?"

"Alright, fine. But if we die, I'm blaming you Grimmjow."

"Eh, fair enough."

"I cannot believe that fucking worked!" Grimmjow screamed over the roaring wind as the Gringotts cart rocketed down the very unstable looking track. Ulquiorra nodded from his seat.

The two and Griphook had gotten to Gringotts no problem with Grimmjow disguised as Bellatrix (and wearing a perfect displeased and hateful death glare to boot) and Ulquiorra and Griphook under the invisibility cloak. They had run into a Death Eater, Travers, and had some trouble getting in the main entrance, but a few Confundus Charms handled the wizard guards and their disturbing probe things.

The real problem was the goblins. Like the bullshit plan dictated, Ulquiorra just Imperiused everybody, got the goblin with the 'clankers' (whatever the hell those were), and quickly got the hell out of there to the cart before it wore off. Needless to say, it wasn't a good plan.

"Don't let your guard down!" Ulquiorra shouted back, eyes watering as the sharp cold air blasted him and they shot even further down, passing a chained dragon. "We're still essentially screwed!" Ulquiorra jerked sideways as they took a sharp turn to see a large waterfall in front of them.

"NO!" Griphook shouted, and Ulquiorra was suddenly drenched in water and blinded. Another lurch, and all occupants of the cart were launched out, hurtling up in the freezing air before shooting towards the ground. Ulquiorra whipped out his wand and cast a Cushioning Charm. They all floated down to the cave floor and landed painlessly. Ulquiorra shook his head of water and glanced at Grimmjow, who once more looked like Grimmjow, hissing and spitting at all the water. "The fuck!" He spat, literally, water shooting out of his mouth.

"The Thief's Downfall!" said Griphook, clambering to his feet and looking back the deluge onto the tracks which had been more than water. "It washes away all enchantment, all magical concealment! They know there are imposers in Gringotts, they have set off defenses against us!"

"Swell." Ulquiorra grumbled, slinging on of the bags off his shoulders and tossing it to Grimmjow, who caught it, pointing towards their goblin escort, who was currently freaking out at the fact that he was with a bunch of thieves. "Imperio." The goblin, whose name Ulquiorra didn't care about, once again resumed a blank dull look on his face. "Right," Ulquiorra said as Grimmjow hastily reached into the bag Ulquiorra gave him and pulled out clothes that fit and began to change out of the wet robes he had been wearing as Bellatrix. "We should hurry."

"Let's hurry the hell up." Grimmjow said, already done changing. Ulquiorra stared. "How did you do that so quickly?"

"Because I'm a guy and not insanely picky about clothes like you." Grimmjow deadpanned. "Besides, I'm French. I'll look good no matter what."

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes.

"That's barbaric." Ulquiorra said disgustedly as the poor tortured and malnourished dragon retreated in fear from the clankers. There were scars all over it's face, flaky scales peeling, it's milky pink eyes big with fear. "That's life." Grimmjow said bluntly, although he also looked uncomfortable and disturbed at the treatment of the dragon guard.

"Make him press his hand to the door!" Griphook ordered in regards to the Imperiused goblin trailing behind them. Ulquiorra flicked his wand, feeling his entire arm tingle with the movement, and the goblin tottered over to the door and placed a hand upon it. The door melted away like a Popsicle in summer heat showing a room packed to the brim with treasure; gold coins, goblets, silver armor, jewels, weapons, and some creepy looking animal skins. "Make it quick." Ulquiorra said before stepping inside, hoping to Aizen something was in there. "Remember, there are probably a lot of curses on the treasure, so try not to touch-"

"Son of a bitch!" Ulquiorra turned to see Grimmjow holding his forearm and glaring a golden fork(?) which immediately clattered to the floor. "It burned me-holy shit!" Grimmjow backed away as multiple copies burst from the original, all identical and useless. "They have added Germino and Flagrante Curses!" said Griphook. A heavy pause penetrated the air.

"Like I said," Ulquiorra huffed, "don't touch anything."

"There!" Two lights shone on the small golden cup on a high shelf that none, not even the tall Grimmjow, could reach without touching a lot of treasure. "Please hurry," Ulquiorra panted, "It's too hot." The treasure in the vault radiated heat in waves, and Ulquiorra, a creature more inclined to the dark and damp was very uncomfortable. Grimmjow, who was used and liked to sun bathe and take cat naps in sunny spots was doing better off.

"Tch. Pussy."

"That would be you." Ulquiorra groaned. "We have to get it while not touching anything else." Grimmjow looked up in thought. "I have an idea."

"I don't wanna." Murciélago whined. "You have to." Grimmjow said to the materialized tiny bat.

"Nuh huh."

"Uh huh. If you don't, I think he might pass out from heat stroke." Grimmjow indicated to Ulquiorra, who was dangerously flushed and slightly swaying, and Griphook awkwardly steadied him to prevent him from slamming into any protruding treasure. Murciélago faltered and huffed angrily. "Fine. But you owe me." And with that, she beat her wings and flew up to the ceiling, where she turned into her humanoid and preferred form. Digging her claws into the ceiling and keeping her tail close, she crawled along to the shelf with the coveted cup. "Back up to the door!" The three on the ground did what they were told, and backed up to the door far away from Murciélago. Wincing in preemptive pain, her tail carefully snaked forward and grasped the Horcrux. It burned terribly, but she held on as copies sprang from the cup and tumbled in the air to clatter with loud clangs to the floor or crashed into other pieces of treasure.

Murciélago vanished a second later, cup and all.

"She's home." Ulquiorra muttered. "Cup's there too. Let's go."

"OW!" Murciélago wailed, holding her burnt tail. "Ow, ow ow!" She dashed over to the underground lake of her world after dropping the cup and dunked her tail into the frigid water. "Ahhhh~" she sighed in relief. "That's better."

What met them on the over side of the door was a horde of pissed off goblins, wizards, and a dragon.

It wasn't pleasant.

"Here." Ulquiorra shoved the sword into the surprised Griphook's hands, who had not been expecting Ulquiorra to hold his end of the deal. "You got us in, here's the sword." He and Grimmjow silently stunned a row of incoming goblins and out of the corner of his eye he saw Griphook slip among them, losing himself in the crowd. Hordes of wizard guards followed, but stumbled back as the blind dragon roared a steady stream of fire.

IDEA!

What?

One ridiculous conversation (which for some reason involved the mention of bananas) later...

That's insane.

It's so insane it's genius! Genius!

Urgh.

Ulquiorra pointed his wand at the tethered dragon. "Relishio!"

"What are you doing?" Grimmjow yelled as he absentmindedly stunned an attacking goblin. Ulquiorra looked at him while kicking another goblin in the face. "Something incredibly stupid and insane." Ulquiorra quickly broke into a sprint, launching himself up with jump and catching on to the dragon's scales, hauled himself up in a sitting position.

"OH HELL NO!" Grimmjow roared, also running towards the dragon and climbing up the dragon's side as it just began to realize its freedom. "THIS IS CRAZY!" He settled on the dragons back.

"You think I don't know that?!" Ulquiorra snarled back, blasting a hole to enlarge the exit for the dragon to climb through. "Are you an idiot?" The dragon jumped into the air and soared towards the hole Ulquiorra created and began struggling it's way through the too small passageways and stalactites. Ulquiorra and Grimmjow clung on for dear life.

"FUCK YOU!" Grimmjow shouted back, getting in the last word as they were then engulfed by heat, dust, and dirt as the dragon clawed its way back up to the surface.

Pure insanity. Ulquiorra mentally grumbled as he helped the dragon dig its way out. Grimmjow fired what appeared to be an cero imitation of some sort, which really cleared the way for the dragon to break through into the entrance hall. Wizards screamed and goblins ran around frantically. The dragon shook its head of dirt and roared spreading it's wings and burst through the metal doors of Gringotts into Diagon Ally.

"I can't believe this worked!" Ulquiorra shouted to Grimmjow, who nodded in agreement as the dragon pushed the air with its wings and soared into the sky.

"Jump!" Ulquiorra and Grimmjow, making sure their stuff was secure, slid off the dragon midair and plummeted towards the water below them.

"Fucking wat-" Grimmjow's angry screams were cut off as they both landed hard, feet first, into a cold, green, muddy lake. Ulquiorra somehow managed to surface first, despite that bats were completely unable to survive in water, unlike certain jungle cats. He spat out a reed. Grimmjow surfaced next, and much more aptly (Ulquiorra struggled with the reeds a bit). They watched the dragon move on and settle on a faraway bank. Grimmjow nodded to the closest shoreline, and they struggled through the mud and lake plants. Grimmjow flopped on the grassy dry land immediately. "Ugh." He groaned, flipping over to lay on his back. "I hate water." Ulquiorra copied him. "Agreed."

There was a companionable silence.

"So, does he know yet?"

"No, not ye- Oh, wait. There it is."

"It is definitely at Hogwarts." Ulquiorra said, after stabbing the cup with Murciélago's blade, Grimmjow's sword also stabbing the cup from a different angle at the same time. The two looked passively at the cup as high cold screams echoed around them. Before glancing at each other, shrugging, and getting back to business. "I didn't see where, he was too busy focusing on his trust issues and being correctly paranoid about the possibility we know about the others."

"Super." Grimmjow drawled, drying off their clothes with his wands. "Another death mission then?"

"Yes."

"Sweet."

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow apparated in Hogsmeade, which, naturally, set off a loud, high pitched alarm that sent Death Eaters running towards them.

Swell.

After some running under the invisibility cloak/disillusionment charm from the Death Eaters, the Dementors were called. "Grimmjow, cast a Patronus!" Ulquiorra hissed, feeling the cold chill and fear signifying the Dementors' arrival.

"Why do I have to?" Grimmjow's question lacked its usual bite as the teen shivered and hissed in the cold. His hair seemed to almost puff out in order to get warmer.

"They-they know what mine looks like" Ulquiorra whispered. "They're getting closer, Grimmjow-"

"Expecto Patronum." Grimmjow muttered promptly, also extremely uncomfortable and afraid of the former guards of Azkaban, holding his wand up, a silver white panther of mammoth size erupting from the tip. With a gleeful yowl (of course only Grimmjow could have a Patronus that yowled happily while chasing demon creature things), the giant cat bounded away, its large jaws snapping at the Dementors and batting the hems of their retreating cloaks with glowing paws like a kitten would bat a string of yarn.

"There! A patronus!"

"But that's a cat."

"I thought we were looking for a stag." Ulquiorra and Grimmjow looked at each other with equally exasperated and incredulous looks on their faces. They knew Death Eaters weren't on the smarter side, but wow.

"What? Where did you hear that? Potter's patronus is a...bat...type... thing." Ulquiorra's face deadpanned. Murciélago hissed indignantly.

"Well, I heard somewhere that it was a stag."

"That's just stupid. We're clearly looking for a bat type thing." At this point, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow wandered over to what appeared to be the Hog's Head and knocked on the door.

"What's a 'bat type thing' exactly?"

"A bat type thing is a bat type thing, obviously!" A man with a stringy gray beard and dirty glasses opened the door. He had Dumbledore blue eyes and a curious scowl; it was the barman. "Can we come in?" Ulquiorra asked him politely after removing the cloak enough to reveal his face. "We're fleeing from extremely stupid Death Eaters, so shelter would be appreciated." The Hog's Head barman glanced around quickly and rushed them in.

"Uh, shouldn't we check out where the patronus came from? I mean, he had a partner right?"

"He's gay?" Grimmjow and Ulquiorra both paused in the doorway, turned vaguely green, and felt ill at the mere thought of the two being gay. For each other. They were then yanked inside the residence and told to hide.

"NO! I mean a partner! A companion, friend, associate, chum- That kind of partner you arse!"

"...Oh."

"I mean, I guess he could be gay. Maybe."

"Well...he does hang around with blokes more than girls right?"

"Yeah..." Grimmjow and Ulquiorra shuddered.

The barman turned out to be Aberforth Dumbledore, the ex-Headmaster of Hogwarts's estranged brother. Turned out Aberforth wasn't too fond of Albus. Ulquiorra could respect that. Especially after hearing the entire tragic sob story that was the Dumbledore family.

Not liking your brother after he neglects your family until he has to lead said family and then neglects your handicapped younger sister to be (presumably) gay for a racist psychopath? Yeah, Ulquiorra could respect that.

"I still have to do it." Ulquiorra said as he and Grimmjow sat in repulsed and pitying silence in the aftermath of Aberforth's story.

"Why?" Aberforth spat. "Was my brother ever honest with you? Did he give you an easy job? Do you think he really cared Potter? I knew my brother, Potter. He learned secrecy at our mother's knee. Secrets and lies, that's how we grew up, and Albus . . . he was a natural." Ulquiorra paused. "He wasn't." Ulquiorra said finally, looking the broken man in the eyes. "He wasn't honest with me. He didn't give me an easy job. Over half of the time I was with him, I wanted to punch him in the face for being so vexingly vague." Grimmjow snickered and Aberforth cracked a small bitter smile. "But I still have to do it. I could give you a big noble reason that I'm doing it to save the world. To stop pain and suffering, and maybe I am, but I'm doing this mostly for selfish reasons." Ulquoirra leaned forward.

"He killed my parents. He tortured my friend's families. He's made my entire life an annoyance. This isn't about saving the world for me." Ulquiorra leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow at Aberforth's stunned expression.

"This fight, this war is about payback. All of this is simply me trying to get even, nothing more, nothing less."

"And, you know. Destiny."

"Right. Destiny is, quite unfortunately, involved. Prophecy, you know?"

"How long has this been here?" Ulquiorra muttered, looking around the secret passageway leading back into Hogwarts from the bar they just left. Neville, looking utterly horrible with his cut up face, longish hair and swollen bruised face, was cheerily leading them, insanely delighted at the two former Espada's arrival. "It's not on the map." He glanced down at the the Marauder's Map, not finding the passageway.

"Never mind that. . . . Is it true? Did you break into Gringotts? Did you escape on a dragon? It's everywhere, everyone's talking about it, Teddy Boot got beaten up by Carrow for yelling about it in the Great Hall at dinner!" Neville chattered excitedly. Ulquoirra smiled faintly and Grimmjow cackled. "Damn straight. Fucking awesome, that was. Except for the landing." The last sentence was muttered under the cat-like man's breath.

"What happened to the dragon?"

"Let it go free. How's Hogwarts been?"

"Well..."

"That's...disturbing." Ulquiorra said after the long and rather depressing description of what Hogwarts had been reduced to. Ulquiorra felt the familiar burn of wrath pulse softly in his veins. This place had basically been his home for the last six years. It made him mad to hear it turned into into a torture chamber and prison.

"Yeah, so since Ron's entire family is on the run and Hermione's parents are incognito and they realized I was one of the main one behind things, they decided there was only one thing left to do. They went after Gran." Grimmjow choked slightly on air in surprise, and Ulquiorra felt his own eyes widen slightly. "Seriously?" Neville laughed. "Yeah. They never saw it coming. Thought a little old witch living alone wouldn't be to much trouble. Dawlish is still in the hospital." Neville smiled fondly, "and Gran's on the run. Sent me a letter, saying how proud she is of me. That I'm really my parent's son." Ulquiorra smiled. Neville always was a bit shy on confidence and dealing with his parents legacy, and his grandmother (from what Ulquiorra had heard) was hard to impress. Good for him.

"Only thing was, once they realized they had no hold over me, they decided Hogwarts could do without me after all. I don't know whether they were planning to kill me or send me to Azkaban, either way, I knew it was time to disappear." Grimmjow cocked his head. "Aren't we going to Hogwarts?"

"Yeah. You'll see."

"Look who it is! Didn't I tell you?"

As Harry emerged into the room beyond the passage, there were several screams and yells:

"HARRY!"

"It's Potter, it's POTTER!"

"Who the hell is that guy with him?"

"Harry James Potter!" This shriek wasn't one of joy, excitement or awe. It was rage. Pure, undiluted, almost tangible female rage. Ulquiorra flinched. This wasn't going to be pretty. He felt more than saw Grimmjow edge away from him warily.

Thanks bastard. Ulquiorra thought half-heartedly. He couldn't really blame the guy as he saw Hermione Granger, tailed by Ron, storm through the crowd of students, who parted for her like the Red Sea. She looked absolutely furious, with betrayed tears in her eyes. Ron mirrored her expression, only without the tears, instead envy filled his eyes as he glanced upon Grimmjow. Ulquiorra braced himself.

"You-You!" Hermione could barely form words, "You filthy, lying, bastard! You left us! After everything we've been through. After all I did-I erased my parents memories of me for you and you left!" Ulquiorra winced guiltily. "I did say you weren't coming." He muttered petulantly. His face then sharply turned to the side with the angry slap Hermione bestowed on his cheek. Silence penetrated the room. Ulquiorra flexed his jaw, and a hand shot up to his face. "Alright." Ulquiorra said through gritted teeth and irritation and pain. "I probably deserved that-"

"PROBABLY?!" Ron exploded, his face an interesting radish color of purple and red. "MORE THAN PROBABLY YOU BLOODY PRAT!" Ron took an aggressive step forward, fists clenched and arms jerking as though the ginger was restraining from punching Ulquiorra in the face. "You bloody left us at that wedding!"

"I needed people at Hogwarts," Ulquiorra snapped. "Someone had to come back, to protect the younger students, to inspire hope-"

"THAT'S WHAT NEVILLE'S FOR YOU ARSE! Sorry Neville." Ron finished apologetically to the no longer plump boy. Neville shuffled, trying desperately to not be involved in the argument. "'S fine." He mumbled quietly. Ulquiorra coughed awkwardly. "Well-"

"Look Weasel, we could argue all day about why Bat Boy here sucks," Grimmjow cut Ron off, to both Ron and Hermione's fury and Ulquiorra's vexation. "We've got work to do, so suck it up and rant at him later, alright?"

"Hello Harry," Luna said happily, "Oh, and hello Grimmjow. I thought you'd be here." Grimmjow grinned happily. "Hey Luna." Ulquiorra stared hard at Grimmjow. Seriously, what was going on with him?

Erm...

You know.

...Yeah.

Well?

I think it's in your best interest if I don't tell you until the war's over.

What-?

"Grimmjow?" Ulquiorra's eyelid twitched as he turned to Hermione, whose look of fury changed into confusion. "Why did she call you Grimmjow?"

"Uh..."

"See, this is why we don't introduce our selves properly, you stupid cat."

"We're running out of time." Ulquiorra muttered to Grimmjow, and Grimmjow nodded. "Fine. HEY! Englishmen!" Ulquiorra facepalmed as everyone turned to face Grimmjow like he was insane (not too far from the truth). "We're looking for something that belonged to Ravenclaw! It'll help us kill...uh, Him! Any suggestions?" His question was filled with bewildered silence. Not for long though.

"There's Ravenclaw's diadem." Luna answered, perched on the arm of Ginny Weasely's chair. "Daddy's trying to duplicate it-"

"Er. Yes, we've seen." Ulquiorra cut off, not noticing Grimmjow approving (and slightly adoring, not that he'd ever admit or know he'd given such a) look. Micheal Corner rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but it's the lost diadem of Ravenclaw. It's lost Luna."

"Hey, you have a better idea?" Grimmjow snapped. Ulquiorra looked at him strangely, then turned his confused look to Ginny, who giggled. What the fuck?

Boys. So clueless.

Seriously, what-?

"It was lost centuries ago, they say," said Cho Chang, and Ulquiorra's heart sank once he was pulled back to the conversation. "Professor Flitwick says the diadem vanished with Ravenclaw herself. People have looked, but," she appealed to her fellow Ravenclaws, "nobody's ever found a trace of it, have they?"

"If you'd like to see what the diadem's supposed to look like, I could take you up to our common room and show you, Harry. Ravenclaw's wearing it in her statue." Cho said shyly, batting her eyes at him. Ulquiorra experienced severe Déjà vu. "Uh-"

"Luna will show you." Ginny cut off, glaring at Cho, and Ulquiorra once again winced. It looked like she wasn't quite over him yet. Damn. "Won't you Luna?" Luna smiled brightly. "Oh yes. I'd love to." the airy girl agree and slid off Ginny's chair to her feet. Grimmjow scowled. "Alright, let's go." The taller boy said loudly and Ulquiorra turned to Grimmjow, frowning. "You should stay here. The rest of the DA needs leadership." He aptly ignored Ron's indignant shout and cursing.

"Hell no. I'm not leaving you with-" Grimmjow cut himself off, looking flustered and slightly pink. Ulquiorra felt cold hard realization as the horrifying epiphany slammed into him. No. "-With all the fun." Grimmjow finished lamely and Ulquiorra stared up at him in pale horror.

No. NO. NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo.

Yeah, this is why I thought it best if I didn't tell you until after the war.

GRIMMJOW AND LUNA?

Well...

For the love of Aizen, why can't God or the Soul King or whomever rules the universe ever give me a break?

Maybe it's because we always swear by Aizen.

"No, Grimmjow. Just...no." Ulquiorra muttered, mind slightly cracked from all the stress of nearly dying, impending battle, and the idea of Grimmjow and Luna together (and the nauseating fact that it actually kinda worked. Sorta. Maybe. Eh.). "I don't think my brain could handle it."

Luna tilted her head, puzzled. Ginny snickered along with Murciélago.

Grimmjow flushed at the tips of his ears. "Shut up."

"I've never stunned anyone besides DA meetings," Luna said mildly as Ulquiorra stared at her, then turned back to Alecto Carrow, the Death Eater that had just summoned/alerted Voldemort (Well, fuck his life) and attempted to kill them whilst Ulquiorra examined the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw and her diadem. "It was noisier than I expected."

"...Yes." Ulquiorra said after a numb pause. Probably good that Grimmjow wasn't there. He seemed to be attracted to violence...

"Get under the cloak Harry," Luna continued, oblivious to Ulquiorra's discomfort, "people are coming."

"I think she might be dead!" One very happy and very bold first year exclaimed after poking the Death Eater in the back with his toe.

"Oooh look! We've made them happy."

"..."

Well, this is awkward. Ulquiorra thought as McGonagall let in the other Death Eater, something-that-begins-with-the-letter-A Carrow. Something-that-begins-with-the-letter-A flipped out, naturally, seeing his sister on the ground, stunned. At first he thought she was dead (by the hands of the Ravenclaw students), indicating he wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box. McGonagall, of course, corrected him. He then began to flip out on what Voldemort would say when he arrived, having been summoned by Alecto minutes ago. Ulquiorra peeked into Voldemort's mind and saw he was checking the cave before he came for him. Well, that bought a little time.

Something-that-begins-with-the-letter-A began to get crafty (and not in the good way) and began to plot. 'Cuz he was evil and all that (Ulquiorra told Murciélago to shut up at that point).

"We'll say Alecto was ambushed by the kids, them kids up there"—he looked up at the ceiling painted with stars toward the dormitories—"and we'll say they forced her to press the Mark, and that's why he got a false alarm. . . . He can punish them. Couple of kids more or less, what's the difference?" Ulquiorra gaped from under the cloak and he felt Luna tense. Dear god...Was Something-that-begins-with-the-letter-A that stupid?! Voldemort wouldn't fall for that! Voldemort may be arrogant trash but he (surprisingly) wasn't stupid!

"Absolutely not!" McGonagal said, face drawn and pale at the mere thought of the students at the hands of Voldemort. "You are not going to pass off your many ineptitudes on the students of Hogwarts. I shall not permit it." Something-that-begins-with-the-letter-A snarled and whirled around to face her. He stalked up to her until they were face to face, only inches apart. Ulquiorra noted with some amusement that McGonagall was taller than him.

"It's not a case of what you'll permit, Minerva McGonagall. You time's over. It's us what's in charge here now, and you'll back me up or you'll pay the price." And he spat in her face.

Oh no, he did NOT just do what I think he did!

"I see," Ulquiorra said mildly as he watched Something-that-begins-with-the-letter-A writhe in agony before crashing into a bookshelf and collapsing with the occasional twitch. "You must really have to mean them for them to work. Interesting." McGonagall whirled around to face him, shock coating her face thickly. "Potter! What-How-?" She sputtered before composing herself. "That was foolish Potter!"

"He spat on you." Ulquiorra said calmly. "I don't like it when people spit on people I like." He turned to face his old Professor. "Professor, Voldemort is coming." He peeked into his rival's mind. He was sailing across the cave lake to the stone island. Lovely.

"We're allowed to say his name now?" Luna inquired curiously, taking off the invisibility cloak and folding it up neatly, causing McGonagall to back up into a chair and clutch the collar of her tartan (honestly, Scots) nightdress.

"He knows where I am, there isn't a point in making an effort." Ulquiorra explained before turning to the stunned Transfiguration teacher. "I need the diadem of Ravenclaw. Any ideas on where it is?"

"The d–diadem of Ravenclaw? Of course not—hasn't it been lost for centuries? Potter, it was madness, utter madness, for you to enter this castle—"

"I have something important to do." Ulquiorra said. "And I need to find something in this castle to do it. Dumbledore's orders." He added hastily, foreseeing that mentioning the little tidbit would speed things up. A lot.

"You're acting on Dumbledore's orders?" she repeated with a look of dawning wonder. Then she drew herself up to her full height. "We shall secure the school against He-Who-Must-Not-Be- Named while you search for this—this object."

Seriously?

"He can fly now?" Ulquiorra deadpanned as he watched Snape flee from the (Completely Fantastically Epic) fight against McGonagall. Snape had jumped out of a window once Flitwick and Slughorn had arrived on the scene and outnumbered him and had flown, like a cartoon bat, away into the night. "Figures."

"I'm sorry to interrupt. Do you have any idea where the diadem of Ravenclaw is?"

"—Protego Horribilis—the diadem of Ravenclaw?" squeaked Flitwick. "A little extra wisdom never goes amiss, Potter, but I hardly think it would be much use in this situation!"

"But do you know where it is? Have you seen it?"

"Seen it? Nobody has seen it in living memory! Long since lost, my boy!"

Ulquiorra frowned, but then his eyes widened and his mouth parted in realization.

No one in living memory...not everyone in Hogwarts is alive though, are they.

The Ravenclaw Ghost! The Gay Lady!

...Gray Lady.

Whatever.

Wow, that's a lot of people. Murciélago said a little numbly at the large assembly of people in the Room of Requirement. The DA had called in reinforcements; the entire Order of the Phoenix. Sirius grinned roughly at him. "Hey." Ulquiorra nodded, "Hey." The entire DA rumbled past them to join the rest of the school and teachers in the Great Hall, and Grimmjow, Hermione, and Ron separated from the crowd to join Ulquiorra. Dean held out his hand as he passed them. "Hey Harry. Come on Luna." Luna smiled simply and took the hand, joining the crowd. Grimmjow glared and hissed. Ulquiorra rolled his eyes before his gaze was pulled to the arguing Weasely family. Ginny wanted to fight. No one else was cool with that.

Ulquiorra watched as Ginny finally surrendered (not happily, mind you) and turned to the entrance to the tunnel leading to the Hog's Head when someone stumbled through and fell over in their haste.

"Am I too late? Has it started? I only just found out, so I–I—" The figure paused, straightening lopsided glasses and gaping at the group, which most of his family was in.

"Who's that?" Grimmjow asked to Ulquiorra, voice loud in the tense silence.

"Percy Weasely."

"Man, that's awkward."

"Shut up, Grimmjow."

"Seriously, why do you keep calling him that?"

"We need to find the Gray Lady." Ulquiorra said to his entourage as the walked briskly down the corridors of Hogwarts. Ulquiorra decided to skip the Great Hall meeting to be more productive. "And we have to hurry. He's here."

"He's here?!" Hermione shrieked, hands flailing. Ron was pale. Grimmjow merely raised an eyebrow. "How are you so calm?" She demanded to the two former Arrancar (now Shinigami-technically), "And why the Gray Lady?"

"The diadem of Ravenclaw. We need it."

"It's a Horcrux?" Ron asked, still sour with Ulquiorra, which was indicated by his hard tone.

"Yes. No one alive knows where it is."

"Great."

"Indeed."

"Give me Harry Potter," said Voldemort's voice, disembodied and echoing throughout the entire school of Hogwarts, "and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you should be rewarded.

"You have until midnight."

Man, everybody down in the Hall must be flipping out right now. Sucks to be them.

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow sprinted towards the reitsu that could only be given by a magical plus, with Ron and Hermione dashing behind them. It was located in the Great Hall, and the four had to push their way past the students clambering towards the Room of Requirement.

"Nick!" Ulquiorra called once he spotted Nearly Headless Nick, the first ghost in his line of vision. "Nick!" the almost headless ghost turned to him. "Harry! My dear boy!" Nick made to grasp Ulquiorra's hands with his own. Both were surprised (Nick was floored, Ulquiorra was slightly startled) to hear Nick's translucent hands clasp Ulquiorra's flesh one's solidly and see Ulquiorra's pale hands lay in the cold ones of the plus spirit. "That's impossible." Nick said. Ulquiorra shrugged. "A lot of things are 'impossible'" he said dryly, "Where's the Gray Lady? I need to ask her something."

"You'd have to be dead." Nick continued, to Ulquiorra's ire, "I would only be able to touch you if you were dead."

"That's just not true," Ulquiorra said huffily, honestly, Hogwarts had been around for at least 1000 years. Had no student attended with reitsu slightly above the average level? "The Gray Lady, Nick. Where's the Gray Lady?"

"You're not dead are you?"

"Dammit Nick!" Ulquiorra snapped, yanking his hands from the ghost. "Where's-"

"OI!" Grimmjow yelled from across the room. "I found her!"

"You look like him," the ghost whispered sadly, waves of regret and bitterness wafting from her transparent form, "So much like him. Except for the eyes and the marks." Ulquiorra shifted uncomfortably. "Pale. Tall. Handsome." The last part was said with a ghost's equivalent of a blush. "Urm..."

"He was kind...flattering...he seemed sympathetic..." Oh yeah, Ulquiorra bet he was.

"You aren't the only one Voldemort's charmed information out of." He said, eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Alright, so the diadem is definitely the Horcrux, and Voldemort got it before the cup and the locket, and he definitely hid it here. But where did he put it?"

"Well, we know he thinks he put somewhere totally secret." Grimmjow said thoughtfully, "And the only time he came back after he graduated was when he interviewed for that job right?"

"Yes..."

"Somewhere secret...where you need to hide things..."

"The Room of Hidden Things." Ron said suddenly, and everyone turned to him, to his embarrassment.

"The what?" Ulquiorra asked. Ron flushed. "The Room of Hidden Things." The ginger repeated. "It's part of the Room of Requirement. It's a place it turns into where you need to hide or dump something you don't want anyone else to get. I dumped that ugly locket Lavender gave me for Christmas last year there."

"Get out." Ulquiorra said to the three remaining people in the Room of Requirement. Tonks, Ginny, and some old lady stared up at him. "What?" Ginny asked. "Get out." Ulquiorra repeated. "I need the room, so you have to leave. And what the hell are you doing here?" He addressed the frantic looking Tonks, "Shouldn't you be with your kid?"

"I couldn't stand not knowing," Tonks rasped. "Where's Remus?" Ulquiorra stared. "Go back to your son Tonks."

"But-"

"Remus could die," Ulquiorra snapped, not in the mood to sugar coat. Tonks recoiled. "And if he dies, and you die alongside him like you would plan to if he did die, your son would be parentless, and let me tell you from personal experience; That sucks. GO HOME."

In the end, the old lady ended up stunning her and had Ginny take her back to the Hog's Head.

"I know what it's like for a boy to grow up without parents," she told Ulquiorra, "that kid deserves to be raised by his mother, at the very least."

The old lady, who turned out the Neville's grandmother, went to join her grandson with surprising speed.

"Right." Ulquiorra said. "So, everyone's out, now-"

"Hang on a moment!" said Ron sharply. "We've forgotten someone!"

"Who?" asked Hermione.

"The house-elves, they'll all be down in the kitchen, won't they?"

"You mean we ought to get them fighting?" asked Ulquiorra dubiously. "They're house-elves Ron."

"No," said Ron seriously, "I mean we should tell them to get out."

"...Pardon?"

"Well, Dobby's down there, and Winky, right? We don't them getting hurt or anything-"

Well, Ulquiorra didn't see that coming. Well, the Ron having enough foresight and generosity to remember the (out of danger in the kitchens, because what Death Eater is thorough enough to check the kitchens?) house-elves part.

Hermione glomping him with a passionate kiss in response was a bit more predictable, with her SPEW obsession. Ulquiorra's face slackened. "Seriously? Now?" He turned to the equally exasperated Grimmjow. "Seven years of sexual tension and they decide to do this now?"

"School children." Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "HEY! In case you haven't noticed, there's a war going on here! There's a fucking time and place!"

"And he never realized anyone else could get in?" Ron said incredulously, and Ulquiorra had to agree. The place was shaped like a cathedral, and looked like a miniature city with the large amounts of crap and hidden objects stack on top of each other. They looked like skyscrapers made purely out of junk.

"Right." Ulquiorra said. "It's definitely in here."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked faintly, "It'll take ages to find it in here, if it is here."

"...It's a...Chosen One thing." Ulquiorra said. "Trust me, it's here."

"Yeah, because we trust you so completely after you ditched us at that wedding."

"Oh, would you let it go?!"

"This way," Grimmjow said, walking next to Ulquiorra as they purposefully strode towards the source of dark reitsu deep within the maze of stuff. Ron and Hermione trailed behind, looking at all the junk in awe. "How do you know it's this way?" Ron asked.

"Chosen One thing. Now shut up." Both Shinigami said instantly and simultaneously, not even looking back at Ron. Ron sputtered indignantly, and Hermione huffed. "Don't be so rude! It was fair question." Ulquiorra grunted, taking a turn to the right.

They stopped in front of a large pile of junk. "Is it here?" Ron asked, craning his neck to look around them. Ulquiorra and Grimmjow shared a sideways glance. "Not...exactly." Grimmjow said. The two partners shared another look and sighed. Then they walked forward and proceeded to scale the junk mountain, climbing their way up.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

"If we want the Horcrux, we have to climb the pile. Otherwise we'll have to go back and take the long way." Ulquiorra called over his shoulder, already having reached the apex of Junk Mountain, Grimmjow alongside him. They sat at the top momentarily. "Ready?"

"Sure." With that, they pushed themselves off the mountain and slid/fell down to the other side, ignoring Hermione's terrified and shocked scream. They landed heavily and looked straight forward.

"Oh. Found it."

"So, I killed the diary," Ulquiorra said as they stared at the diadem resting on a wig (which was resting on a male bust), "Dumbledore killed the ring..somehow," Ulquiorra shook his head and continued, "You the locket, and both of us got the cup." A pause. "Well, I get 'Voldiequiorra', naturally," Ulquiorra said, ignoring Ron and Hermione's shouts asking what was going on. "So, you either get this or the snake."

"Hey, even if I do kill this one, you'll still get to kill one more than me," Grimmjow protested, also ignoring the frantic yelling coming from behind Junk Mountain. "And Voldemort. Not fair." Ulquiorra considered it.

"Fine. You kill this one, we both kill the snake." Ulquiorra decided. "That way it's even."

"Yes! Die Fucker!" Grimmjow cackled insanely, swiping down on the diadem (and the wig and bust along with it), cutting it cleanly in half. It screamed furiously, black fumes spewing from it towards them in anger.

"Well, shit."

"Get back to the entrance!" Ulquiorra roared to Ron and Hermione as he and Grimmjow ran from the black smoke of Doom.

"What? What happened?" Hermione's voice was faint as Grimmjow and Ulquiorra ran around junk piles and down paths surrounded by useless objects, pursued by the diadem's last act of Voldemort induced vengeance.

"JUST DO IT!" Ulquiorra shot a curse behind him randomly. It didn't really work. They skidded around a corner and crashed into someone. It was Malfoy.

"Oh, for the love of Aizen." Ulquiorra muttered as he grabbed Malfoy's wrist, ignoring the surprised and angry yelp and kept on running. Grimmjow followed, not caring enough about Crabbe and Goyle, who had accompanied Malfoy, to grant the courtesy of trying to save their lives like Ulquiorra had. Crabbe shot Crucio at Ulquiorra. "Are you serious?!" Ulquiorra yelled. An Avada Kedrava came next, causing Ulquiorra to lurch to the side to dodge it. "Apparently, yes."

Bright side: The Horcrux remains had run out of steam and was dead.

Down side: Crabbe and Goyle (and Malfoy, Ulquiorra supposed) were trying to kill them.

"WHEN THE FUCK DID THEY LEARN TO USE FIENDFYRE?!" Grimmjow bellowed as he and Ulquiorra dashed madly away from the (out of control) flames, Ulquiorra still dragging Malfoy along.

"The Carrows?" Ulquiorra guessed, pushing Malfoy aside and jumping forward into a somersault to dodge the fire (which was now in the form of a giant serpent) that snapped at his neck (probably. It could also have been aiming for his entire head). Grimmjow blasted a junk pile out of their way and Ulquiorra waved his wand and the junk shot past them and collided with the giant fire snake thingy. It bought them about 10 seconds. They (and Malfoy, who as following behind them, screaming like a little girl) turned sharply, the Fiendfyre in hot pursuit, haphazardly crashing and setting towers of stuff on fire in its wake.

"Harry!" Ulquiorra looked up to see Ron and Hermione soaring above them on broomsticks. "What happened?"

"Crabbe's an idiot and knows how to summon Fiendfyre! What do you think?!" Ulquiorra shouted at them. "Where's the exit?"

"This way!" Hermione called, narrowly dodging a jet of fire from the Fire Snake Thing (FST).

Oh great. Murciélago grumbled. It's hot, we could potentially die of heatstroke, and it has babies.

Babies?

Ulquiorra turned his head around mid-run and saw, true to Murciélago's statement, several smaller FSTs had sprouted from the main one and set upon burning the entire room to ash, as well as attempting to roast Ron and Hermione in the air like marshmallows. Ulquiorra coughed on smoke and the world swayed. "Urgh." He moaned, before stumbling on to follow Ron and Hermione, Grimmjow half dragging him along.

Ulquiorra zoned/sorta blacked out for the remainder of their little escapade through the Room of Requirement, but was brought back to reality as cold, dusty air hit him in the face. He coughed, and collapsed to the ground, trying to take in as much fresh air as he could amidst the terrible hacking. Grimmjow slumped against the wall, groaning. Hermione and Ron were already there, eyes watery from the smoke, skin smudged with black, and wearing identical terrified looks. "Harry?" Hermione whispered, and Ulquiorra moaned in response, his coughing fit over. Malfoy had apparently made it out with them, and was curled into himself in a little ball, shivering. "Crabbe and Goyle..."

"They here?" Ulquiorra rasped, throat dry and Malfoy shook his head. "Then they're dead. Sorry." Malfoy whimpered. Four heads turned to the sound of dueling in the corridor.

The Death Eaters had penetrated the castle.

The world seemed to explode. Someone had attacked the corridor itself, and Ulquiorra, Grimmjow, Ron, Hermione, Percy and Fred, whom they had met up with, were blasted in the air. Debris, chunks of stone and painting remains pelted them all as they were thrown to the ground, dust rising up like a swarm of mosquitoes. Ulquiorra managed to summoned a hasty, but weak, Shield Charm and wasn't too badly injured, but was buried in wreckage and slabs of ceiling. He managed to crawl his way out and blinked dust out of his eyes. He stood up and heard rubble shift near him. Someone with impressive height stood up as well. "Grimm-"

There was a scream; not of pain or fear, but of soul crushing grief and agony. It was a cry of grief that could only mean one thing. Ulquiorra turned and stumbled through the thick air that was finally clearing up and looked ahead. Ron, Percy, and Hermione was all bent over a still body. They were crying and yelling and begging for the body to wake up but Ulquiorra was looking ahead at the young man standing behind them, looking utterly confused, a broken chain sticking out his chest.

"Why am I on the ground?" Fred's plus asked confused. "I'm right here. Hey, Ron. Perce, I'm right here." He tried to poke Ron's shoulder, but it passed right through. Ulquiorra felt grief stab him.

"Well," Grimmjow muttered next to Ulquiorra, making sure to be quiet so the remaining Weaselys and Hermione couldn't hear him. "That's gotta be awkward." Ulquiorra glared at him. "Come on." Ulquiorra murmured to Grimmjow, carefully stepping around the Weasely family and Hermione, who were too involved in their grief (understandably) to notice.

"Fred." Ulquiorra said quietly, catching the plus's attention. Fred's spirit turned to him and grinned wide. "Harry!" He exclaimed, looking relieved. "Thank Merlin! Someone's finally talking to me!" He frowned. "Why isn't anyone talking to me?" Ulquiorra shook his head. "You...you died, Fred." Fred blinked. "Eh?"

"Dead." Grimmjow repeated. "Kicked the bucket, pushed up daisies, will be buried six-feet under, you know the drill." Fred blinked at him too. Ulquiorra sighed. And punched Grimmjow for good measure.

"At any rate," Ulquiorra continued, ignoring Grimmjow nursing his punched arm and curses, "You're dead from the explosion. You're a spirit now." Fred nodded slowly. "Is that why there's a giant broken chain coming from my chest?"

"Yes."

"...I'm not a ghost right? 'Cuz I don't wanna be a ghost. Being a ghost sounds really boring."

"You're not a ghost."

"Okay." Fred smiled, relieved. "Good." Fred shifted awkwardly. "Gotta say, this is weird. Being dead and all." Ulquiorra shrugged. "You get used to it."

"...What?"

"Nothing." Ulquiorra said hastily, "But we need to find a Grim Reaper to send you on."

"On to where?" Fred asked. "I mean, the afterlife obviously," He said quickly, to clarify that he wasn't stupid, "but where exactly is it?"

"How should I know about the British afterlife?"

"Well, you seem to know about everything else, mate."

"He's got you there."

"Shut up, Grimmjow." Ulquiorra rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Alright, we-"

"Uh, Harry?" Ulquiorra looked at Fred, who as pointing towards the direction his body was in. The corridor was, for some unknown reason, being invaded by the giant spiders.

"Well, shit." Ulquiorra concluded, grabbing Grimmjow and Fred and running. "Run!"

"But what about my body?!"

"No time!"

"Come off it mate! I need that for my funeral! I want to be poised in a hugging position or something funny like that! I can't have that happen if my body's eaten by a horde of bloody spiders!"

"NOT NOW FRED!"

"Dementors." Ulquiorra snarled at the impending cloaked figures. "I hate Dementors." Fred's plus staggered next to them, before collapsing. "Ugh."

"What the hell?" Grimmjow asked, looking a grayish pale as the Dementors got closer. Grimmjow hauled the passed out plus over his shoulder and slowly began to back away with Ulquiorra as the Dementors drifted closer. "What's with him?"

"Dementors feed on souls," Ulquiorra said, "With him being dead and separated from his body..."

"Man, that's gotta suck." Grimmjow whistled. Or tried to. The Dementors weren't really helping his whistling ability. "Alright, something happy..." Grimmjow tried to cast a Patronus, but only got wispy smoke. "Dammit, what's happy?"

"The time Halibel gave Nnoitora that utterly humiliating smackdown for being a sexist douche?" Ulquiorra suggested, because even when he was an Espada, he thought that was awesome. Or as awesome as the then emotionless Arrancar could think something was at the time. Grimmjow tilted his head, and cast his Patronus again, the large panther bursting out and bounding towards the Dementors as Ulquiorra's Murciélago Patronus swiftly followed. As the Dementors dispersed, Grimmjow chuckled.

"Yeah, that was pretty great."

"Voldemort's in the Shrieking Shack," Ulquiorra told Grimmjow (and Plus Fred, who was sorta tagging along simply out of not knowing what to do now that he was dead), "He's got Nagini with him and just sent for Snape."

"He's not even doing anything?" Fred said indignantly. Ulquiorra shrugged. "I suppose he doesn't think he needs to. He thinks I'll come to him."

"Which he will." Grimmjow added, jabbing his thumb at Ulquiorra. Fred scowled. "Still. Bloody sod."

"Amen to that."

"Hello." The three (Ulquiorra, Grimmjow, and Plus Fred) stared at the strange teenager in front of them. He was a couple of inches shorter then Ulquiorra in a formal suit, tie, dress shoes, black gloves and fedora. He had wavy blond-brown hair that was black in back. A stubborn cowlick stuck out from under the hat. He had green yellow eyes, and glasses with thick pentagonal lenses. There was a strange watch on his wrist and he carried a thick book with little pink and yellow leafs of paper sticking out of the pages at random intervals.

But was really weird was the fact that he was leaning against a lawn mower.

A freakin' lawn mower.

"Er...Hello." Ulquiorra said after a long pause. The lawn mower owner frowned at something behind them. "Man, look at that." He said frustratedly. "That's gonna require so much overtime." He shook his head. "Alright, I want to get this over with. I don't do overtime." The three wizards blinked at him as he rifled through his giant book. "Let's see..." He glanced at Fred, "Red hair, freckles, wizard-Fred Weasely." He said, pointing to something in his book. "Hmmm...Date of birth April 1, 1978, died on May 2, 1998 age 20. Co-creator of Weasely Wizard Wheezes and identical twin to George Weasely." He looked up. "That right?"

"Uh, yeah." Fred said. "Who the ruddy hell are you?" The book snapped shut and the teen grinned. "I am the next Reaper, Ronald 'To Die! " He said jokingly to their blank faces, his right hand brought up to the side of his face in half a fist, with his index and pink fingers standing up. He stayed still for a moment, judging their reaction before slouching and sighing. "Yeah, it's terrible right? Grell said I needed a catchphrase. I told him it didn't work the last time, but he insisted I try it again." He stuck out a hand, and Fred shook it. "Ronald Knox. Grim Reaper." Fred raised his eyebrows but grinned in a friendly manner. "Cool. I think. You gonna send me on?"

"Yeah. Hey, do me a favor." Fred looked at Ronald quizzically, "Join the Grim Reaper Academy and prank the hell of William T. Spears. Trust me, you'll want to once you meet him." Fred grinned. "Will do. Is the afterlife fun?"

"It's as boring as hell!" Ronald laughed. "You seem fun though, if your cinematic record means anything. We should hang out sometime once you get to Avalon. I seriously need a wingman. Everyone else is too busy with overtime because their Death Scythes aren't efficient enough. Besides, Grell anyway." The Grim Reaper winked at Fred, who grinned wickedly at the thought of all the mischief that could be achieved. "Look me up when you get there, I know all the good parties and cute girls. Especially the receptionists."

Now, my Death Scythe needs to eat your chain. Quicker this way." He clarified, pulling a cord and revving up the lawn mover. "Avoids overtime."

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow stared as the Grim Reaper's lawn mower casually ate Fred's soul chain until it hit the base. That's when Fred's form glowed blue and was sucked into the lawn mower's back compartment. Ronald Knox promptly checked something off in his thick book before nodding to them. "Later Shinigami." He said and casually rode his lawn mower (which they assumed was his Zanpaktou (equivalent)) into the castle. A pause, and over the explosions, screaming, and curses they could hear the faint sound of metal crunching on metal and saw faint blue light flash, along with pen scribbling on paper.

"That...was weird." Grimmjow said. "Even for a Death god."

I didn't feel a spirit in his Death Scythe. Their Death Scythes must be made for them, like weapons and tools. Or something.

...That...is weird.

I know right? Anyway, Voldemort. Snape. Nagini. Things shall be done.

Right.

Well, that's just MEAN. Murciélago thought as Voldemort waved his wand and killed Snape by trapping his head and shoulders in the blind Nagini's spherical shimmering cage.

While Nagini was still inside, naturally.

Ulquiorra knew the snake, although blind, would easily be able to hear the man's frantic heartbeat; smell the Potion Master's fear. The snake lunged, and sank its sharp fangs deep into the sallow man's neck. Snape screamed, a bloodcurdling scream of pain and fear and desperation, then fell to the floor as his knees crumpled. The cage was removed and Voldemort swiftly turned away.

"I regret it." Voldemort said coldly before sweeping out of the room, Nagini following.

"Uh, I think he's leaking memories." Grimmjow said pointing to Snape's dying and convulsing body. Ulquiorra, who knelt beside him, nodded. "Yes, he is." He said mildly. "I should collect those." He conjured a flask and collected the silvery substance with his wand and filled the container.

"Take...take them..." Snape choked out, too delirious from rapid blood loss to see Ulquiorra was already taking the memories. "Yes sir. I'm taking them now." Ulquiorra placated, corking the flask firmly and in clear sight (clear if he wasn't dying from a poisonous snake bite at any rate) of the Professor. Snape clawed feebly at Ulquiorra's wrist. Ulquiorra, who had a grudging respect for the man, made the little life he had easier on him and grasped his hand (eye twitching at the contact).

"Look . . . at . . . me. . . ." Snape whispered, his hand slackening in Ulquiorra's grip. Ulquiorra's dark emerald eyes bored into Snape's obsidian black ones. The light that made the glistening orbs shine was dulling rapidly. "...Close...e...nough..." Snape gasped, before his eyes became completely blank and his head lolled. Ulquiorra set the dead man's hand in his lap and stood away, pocketing the flask. He turned slightly to the left.

"Hello Professor." The sallow plus stared at Ulquiorra, before his eyes darted back to his body then back again.

"This way, please. A Grim Reaper will tend to you if you'll follow me."

The three made it to the Entrance Hall. Ulquiorra tsked. "What a mess," he muttered, stepping around the splintered banister wood, the scattered emeralds from the Slytherin House cup, and fallen rubble littering the ground. "This will be a real bitch to clean." Ulquiorra turned to Grimmjow, ignoring the confused and scowling plus behind them. "Do you see the Grim Reaper?" He asked, and the cat peered around, frowning. "We need to find him, Snape's chain is eroding-"

"PLUSES! OI, PLUSES! OVER HERE!" They turned to the boisterous yell to see the strange Ronald Knox standing in front of rubble pile near the Grand Staircase, his book of souls in hand, casually leaning on his lawn mower, a long line of dead spirits in front of him. "ALL THOSE WITH THEIR SOUL CHAINS ERODING GET TO CUT THE LINE! Name please?" He stopped yelling and asked as a young woman with dirty blonde hair and pale dirt and blood streaked skin hesitantly walked up to the strange Reaper. "L-Lavender Brown."

"Brown...Brown- Lavender Brown, born August 3 1979, died May 2 1998. Known for showing a lot of affection and charmingly cute looks." The last part was said with a waggling of eyebrows and a suggestive glance. Lavender blushed. "Uh..."

"Eh, nevermind. Back to work. Higher ups don't see complimenting pretty girls as an excuse to avoid overtime, after all!" His lawn mower was quickly revved up and her soul chain quickly devoured by the machine, and her soul stored safely. Ulquiorra shrugged and grabbed Snape's forearm and dragged the sputtering man to the front of the line. Ignoring the angry snarls of his name, Ulquiorra pushed Snape in front of Ronald Knox. "Here. His chain is eroding." Ronald Knox stared at Snape speculatively. "Name." Snape glared before jumping as his soul chain viciously devoured another fragment of itself. He straightened and composed himself with a death glare.

"...Severus Snape."

"Snape eh? Snape...Snape! Severus Snape, born January 9, 1960, died May 2, 1998. Son of Tobias Snape and Eileen Prince. Man, your family's got some strange names, even for us English." Ronald grinned. Snape was not amused. Ronald coughed. "Anyway. Next stop, Avalon."

One magical guilt trip/warning from Voldemort later that summoned Ulquiorra to the Forbidden Forest later, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow moved toward the Great Hall. The great tables meant to seat cheerful students had been cleared away to make room for the fallen. The dead were lined up neatly with friends and family mourning over them, friends wailing in despair over their fallen comrades, and parents and siblings sobbing over their dead relatives. Ulquiorra spotted Pavarti weeping over Lavender's mangled body a little ways down. Grimmjow had run off, probably looking for Luna, when Ulquiorra spotted the Weasely family and Hermione. All were surrounding Fred, with George kneeling over the dead ginger's head, and Mrs. Weasely draped over Fred's chest, shaking with sobs.

"Harry." Ulquiorra turned. "Sirius. I'm glad you survived." Sirius grinned tightly. "Only round one." Sirius turned to face the Weaselys. "Another family torn apart thanks to Voldemort."

"This is war. There are consequences."

Sirius sighed. "You sound twenty years too old, you know that?"

"Naturally." Ulquiorra scoffed. "Where's Remus?"

On the outside, Ulquiorra was as cool as the stones of the Las Noches Palace. On the inside:

Please don't be dead, Please don't be dead, Please don't be dead, Please don't be dead-

"Hello Harry. Good to see you."

Thank Aizen.

With Remus and Sirius alive, and Remus assured that Tonks was (unwillingly) out of danger, Ulquiorra moved to find Grimmjow. Grimmjow was with Luna and Neville in a corner. Neither were injured to badly, just some cuts, scrapes and bruises. Grimmjow was laughing at something Luna said, and Neville was chuckling wearily with him as Ulquiorra approached. Ulquiorra grabbed Grimmjow by the ear and dragged him towards the Great Hall's doors. "Come. We have work to do."

"OW! Fine! Just let GO-OW! SON OF A BITCH!"

Ulquiorra starred. Grimmjow starred. "...So, he was always a little sallow bat man, huh?" Grimmjow finally asked, as they watched young Severus spy on two young girls on a swing set. The younger of the girls, a slight little thing with dark red hair, laughed and called out something to the other, before launching off the swing. She flew through the air, soft and graceful, lingering in the air too long and landing too lightly for a natural descent.

"Mummy said you weren't allowed, Lily!" The oldest shrieked as she slowly ground her heels into the ground to stop her swing. The youngest giggled happily and said something along the lines of it not mattering.

"Tuney, look at this. Watch what I can do." Ulquiorra blanched, and turned to the young Snape, who looked at young Lily Evans longingly. "That," Ulquiorra said, "is so wrong." Grimmjow turned to the younger wizard, disregarding Petunia's shrieks as Lily made a daisy preform tricks with her underage magic. "What?"

"That's my mother and aunt." Grimmjow gaped. "Seriously?" He turned to see Snape struggle (and fail) to make a good impression on young Lily and laughed. "Man, life must really hate you."

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow observed several more memories of Snape's childhood, all focusing on Lily Evans. The two talking about Hogwarts in a secluded clearing, their first train ride there, their Sorting. There was even a memory of Snape being an insecure twit about Ulquiorra's father. The two continued to watch as Snape effectively destroyed his friendship with Ulquiorra's mother by instinctively being the Anti-Muggle Wizard he was raised to be, and how he tried to beg Lily to forgive him. The entire fiasco had Ulquiorra actually pitying Snape.

The next memory was much later in Snape's life, on a dark hilltop with the wind roaring loudly and Snape looking around like a wild animal. There was a flash or white light, and Snape turned to see Dumbledore, looking at him with contempt. Snape proceeded to grovel and beg for Lily's (and by default, Ulquiorra and James's) protection.

And a bargain was struck.

The next memory was clearly just after Ulquiorra's parents' death, and as Snape sobbed over the loss of the woman he loved (something that squicked out Ulquiorra, Grimmjow, Murciélago, and Pantera to no end), Dumbledore immediately pulled some good old Dumbledore Manipulation and guilt tripped Snape into being Ulquiorra's 'Guardian Angel', so to speak.

"Oh, that's just mean."

"—mediocre, arrogant as his father, a determined rulebreaker, delighted to find himself famous, attention-seeking and impertinent—"

Grimmjow snickered. Ulquiorra elbowed him in the ribs.

"No," agreed Dumbledore. "You are a braver man by far than Igor Karkaroff. You know, I sometimes think we Sort too soon . . . "

Dumbledore then walked away, leaving Snape stricken with the thought of better belonging to the Lion than the Serpent. Grimmjow shook his head. "Seriously, that's just mean."

The pair watched as Snape lectured Dumbledore on his sheer stupidity of putting the cursed Horcrux, Marvolo's ring, on. Dumbledore asked how much time he had, and Snape replied a year at most. Dumbledore seemed relieved, and began to discuss with Snape about the plan to have Malfoy murder the Headmaster.

"Are you intending to let him kill you?"

"Certainly not. You must kill me." There was a silence. Ulquiorra raised his eyebrows while Grimmjow gaped. They watched the two continue to discuss Dumbledore's impending death, with Dumbledore, quite characteristically, guilt tripping Snape into mercy killing him.

The memory swirled away and Ulquiorra coughed awkwardly. "Well...looks like I didn't need to have killed him."

Awkward.

Ulquiorra's eyebrow twitched. Okay, he would admit he did not think highly of Dumbledore. He never thought highly of Dumbledore. He didn't even like Dumbledore (most of the time), but this took the cake.

"You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?" Snape asked in horror, and Ulquiorra thought it was a sad day indeed that Severus Snape seemed to be more concerned for Ulquiorra's health than Albus Dumbledore. Than again, Ulquiorra supposed he shouldn't have been surprised.

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow finally watched as Snape managed to track down their movements to the frozen forest they had crashed at months ago, and, removing the sword of Gryffindor from a hidden compartment in the wall behind Dumbledore's portrait, swear to Dumbledore('s portrait) that he had a plan to give them the sword.

Shortly after that memory, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow were expelled from Snape's memories and back into the Headmaster's office that they had broken into a short while earlier. There was a pause.

"...Man, life really kicked that guy in the balls, huh?"

"Well, I'm off to go and 'die' now," Ulquiorra said casually as he and Grimmjow descended the stairs. Grimmjow yawned. "Okay. What do I do?" Ulquiorra stopped to think. "I'm not sure, actually." he admitted. Grimmjow shrugged. "Eh, I'll stick around. Throw everyone off your trail, and stuff."

"Alright. Sounds good to me."

Ulquiorra reached the edge of the forest and pulled out the long forgotten Snitch from his pack and eyed the message curiously. I open at the close. Geez, Dumbledore was also so vague. He pressed it against his mouth. "I am about to die", it clicked open, revealing a dull black stone with a jagged crack down the middle. He tilted the Snitch and let the Resurrection Stone drop into his palm. He examined it curiously. He turned it three times when the people he wanted to appear came to mind. He heard them behind him and braced himself for the inevitable (if it worked that is).

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE, SNAPE?"

Yeah. It worked.

His father was the same height as him, wearing the clothes he died in with lopsided glasses. The three he summoned were not ghosts, but they were clearly not alive. The seemed to waver when they moved, like a very clear, realistic projection. James Potter glared at the second man Ulquiorra summoned, the recently deceased Severus Snape. Snape looked surprised to be there. "I assure you, Potter, I have no idea why I am present." Snape sneered. "Of course, if you had a single thought in your thick head, you'd know that." James's eyebrow twitched. Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow. So, this was his father. Figured. Leaving the two rivals to bicker, he turned to the remaining person, who was staring at Snape, also utterly confused as why he was there. She had long red hair and her eyes were almond shaped, and brilliant green. Unlike his, they seemed to glow with their bright color. While Ulquiorra's eyes were dark emerald, hers were like shining jade.

"Hello Mother." he said quietly, and she turned to him and smiled lovingly. Ulquiorra shifted awkwardly. "We're so proud," she said softly, "You've been so brave." Ulquiorra starred at her sadly. "You don't know what I've done," he realized, "You don't know who I am. You cannot see the Living World in Death." Lily Potter tilted her head, puzzled. "What do you mean, Harry? Sweetheart, Dumbledore told us what you've done. We're so proud." Ulquiorra stared. Okay, that was unexpected.

"Well, that's just awkward." a cheery voice echoed behind him and Lily jumped back, while James instinctively reached for his wand, despite that he had been dead for the last 17 years. Snape just twitched with recognition at the voice. Ulquiorra felt Murciélago drape her self over his him, so that her large breasts hung over his (surprisingly) broad shoulder, and her elbows were also propped on said shoulder, cradling her face with her hands. Ulquiorra rolled his eyes at her impromptu materialization. Her tail swished back and forth before coming up to lounge on Ulquiorra's other shoulder. "Dumbledore told you? Jeez, and he's the one who sent you on this death trap, eh?"

"Murciélago," Ulquiorra hissed, "What are you doing?" Murciélago pouted. "Aw, come on! Can't I introduce myself to the 'rents? And Snape." She added, before nodding cheerfully to the sallow man. "Hiya Snape! It's been awhile."

"Too long." Snape muttered. "I wasn't aware that you more than a figment in Potter's head." Murciélago hummed happily, flicking her tail in a "Ph-shaw!" motion. "Anyways, Master-"

"Master?"

"-I'm ready for action! Everything's set up." Ulquiorra nodded. "Good. Thanks." Murciélago saluted. "No prob. Later Master!" With that, Murciélago immediately dissolved into black smoke and returned to his inner world. Ulquiorra sighed, before turning to Snape. "Well, before I wanted to do this, I just wanted to thank you." Snape looked vaguely nauseous. "Now, this is horribly uncomfortable for the both of us, so I'll make this quick. Thank you for looking after me, and for becoming Dumbledore's bitch in order to keep me safe. It means a lot that someone would actually brave his manipulation just for me." Snape nodded stiffly, and Ulquiorra returned the stiff nod, and held up the stone to return him to the afterlife. "Oh," Ulquiorra remembered, "I'm, uh, sorry that I killed Dumbledore." His parents head immediately whipped over to him from staring flabbergasted at Snape. "That apparently interfered with some of your plans. Sorry about that." Snape actually smirked in amusement before Ulquiorra turned the stone in the opposite direction three times, sending Snape back to Death. Ulquiorra turned to his parents. "Well, shall we?" And with that, Ulquiorra turned on his heel and strode into the forest, hands in his pockets.

"What did you mean, kill Albus?" James asked as the Potters made their way through the forest. "You didn't actually kill him right?"

"'Course I did." Ulquiorra said casually, "Never liked him, saw an opportunity to save an innocent soul...It seemed a good idea at the time."

"Harry!"

"What? It's not like I haven't killed people before..."

"Excuse me?"

"Really, Mother, you're making too big a deal out of this-"

"I most certainly am not!"

"It was a different time. And it just was a couple thousand Pluses and Hollows...and some Shinigami."

"WHAT?"

"I was hungry!"

"You talk like you were a lost spirit monster!"

"But I was!"

"What!?"

"Like I said, it was a different time!"

"Harry James Potter, the second you're dead, you are grounded!"

"Mother!"

"Uh, Lils, isn't that a little harsh? I mean, he's about to die-"

"You want to finish that sentence, dear?"

"Sorry son, you're on your own."

"...Thanks, Father."

"Hello, everyone. I'm here." Ulquiorra said coolly, stepping into the clearing where Voldemort sat with his followers and Nagini. "Sorry. I'm not late, am I?"

"Harry Potter," Voldemort said softly, and maybe with a little awe, "The Boy Who Lived". Ulquiorra grimaced. "I really hate that title," Ulquiorra muttered.

"Funny," Voldemort said coldly, "I am also not fond of it." Ulquiorra gave him a dead stare. "Of course not. It's a huge reminder of how you, at the height of you power, failed to kill a defensless baby. I see no conceivable reason why you would enjoy such a title." Voldemort's face, the area where there were supposed to be eyebrows, twitched.

"Well, shall we?" Ulquiorra said, drawing his wand from his pants pocket and raising it, the other in the opposite pocket and stroking the Stone, and Voldemort laughed. "Oh no, dear Harry. There will be no fight here. Not tonight."

"Humor me?" Voldemort smiled cruelly. "No." and pointed his wand directly at Ulquiorra's heart. "Avada Kedavra."

Ulquiorra blinked and saw treetops and stars. He sat up and saw all the Death Eaters crowded around a collapsed Voldemort. They didn't notice Ulquiorra sit up and Ulquiorra saw why, he had been kicked out of his human containment. Next to him was a teenager. He had dark hair, snow white skin and blood red irises. His fingers were long and he was dressed in black robes. Despite that he was clearly the Horcurx within Ulquiorra, as indicated by the broken chain that was only halfway from peeling completely off his chest. He had human features; a nose, handsome cheekbones and eyebrows. His eyes, although inhumanly colored, had whites. Voldequiorra stared at him and Ulquiorra stared back. "Hey." Ulquiorra said. "Hello." Voldequiorra sounded resigned, as if he had known this day was coming for years, which he did. "What next? And what's with that outfit?"

Ulquiorra looked down and himself and saw, to his horror, he was garbed in Shinigami robes. The three-quarter sleeves, the black shihakshou, the traditional socks and sandals and Murciélago at his waist. He stared in slight repulsion before giving a big sigh of acceptance. He drew Murciélago and flipped the blade around so the hilt base was facing Voldequiorra. Voldequiorra leaned away. "Uh, what are you-?"

"Goodbye." Ulquiorra said before stamping Voldequiorra's forehead with a Konso. Immediately, two large doors appeared behind the two. Each door had a skeleton torso pinned to it, with a skeletal hand crossed to open the doors. The skulls wore bloody bandages. The gates opened a a sucking wind began drawing Voldequiorra to the gates. "Is this hell?" Voldequiorra yelled over the wind only the two souls could hear and feel.

"Yes."

"Damn. Well, goodbye, Boy-Who-Lived-Yet-Is-Dead!" And with that, Voldequiorra was sucked into Hell, and the Gates slammed closed and disappeared.

Ulquiorra watched as Voldemort recovered and sent Narcissa to check his body. She proclaimed him dead, and cheers went up all around, along with massive sobs. Ulquiorra turned and blanched a bit as he finally noticed Hagrid, previously gagged, tied to a tree. Oops.

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes as Voldemort, high on triumph and drunk with arrogance, tossed his body in the air with his wand. Once, twice, and finally a third before the Dark Wizard let the body lay limp on the forest floor. Ulquiorra's wand dropped silently on the ground from his body's limp hand. No one noticed such a minor detail, and Ulquiorra snuck over and picked up the stick with pale fingers. He stuck it next to Murciélago.

He followed the Death Eaters from the air, in order to avoid the Dementors as much as possible, as they forced Hagrid, given the task to carry Ulquiorra's body, forward. Soon enough they reached the castle and Voldemort called Hogwarts's occupants out, and Ulquiorra winced at all the agonized screams that tore from his allies throats at the sight of his body. Grimmjow spotted him from below and smirked, before reaching out and tugging Luna's wrist and whispering in her ear, pointing at Ulquiorra in the sky. She looked up, and unnoticed by everyone else, smiled with pure relief, eyes teary. She gave a dreamy wave and Ulquiorra waved back.

He watched calmly as Voldemort sprouted bullshit about their confrontation in the forest, and saw Ron, surprisingly enough, come to his defense. This triggered defiant screams and Neville Longbottom actually charging at Lord Voldemort. Ulquiorra facepalmed, but inwardly was impressed at the sheer gall of the act. Neville, naturally, was quickly disarmed, because despite his new confidence and skill, Voldemort was still an opponent out of his league.

Voldemort was also impressed with Neville's bold action, and offered him a spot among the Death Eaters. Nagini, now free of the protective cage now that Ulquiorra was 'dead', slithered at his feet.

Neville refused, and, now bound via magic and set aflame from the Sorting Hat that was forcibly placed upon his head, slowly began to burn.

And all hell broke loose.

Ulquiorra wasn't completely sure where everyone was coming from, really. The giant, the centaurs, the house-elves. Seriously, how did everyone fit in the damn castle?

Ulquiorra took the moment to get back into his body when the centaurs and Hogsmeade shopkeepers, led be Grawp, randomly attacked the Death Eaters while Neville broke free of the body-bind and pulled Gryffindor's sword from the Sorting Hat and sliced, poor, blind and confused Nagini's head off. Ulquiorra popped up, patted Hagrid on the arm quickly, before dashing off, ignoring the loud cries of his human name.

He cast a water charm and put out the Sorting Hat before blending into the crowd. He found Grimmjow, grinning like a lunatic. Grimm had forgone his wand and had his sword in shikai, something Ulquiorra had not seen before. It was a pair of black fingerless gloves, with long blades working as retractable claws sliding in and out of the fabric over Grimmjow's knuckles. A passing wizards knowledgeable of the Muggle World called out something about "Wolverine" and "X-Men".

"Hey!" Grimmjow yelled, clawing a Death Eater in the face, before kicking him into a wall. "You're alive!"

"Alive enough, anyway." Ulquiorra muttered, summoning Murciélago's sword and stabbing a passing Death Eater. "You seen Voldemort?"

"No! Seen Luna?! Said something about Bellatrix!"

"Great Hall, I think."

"Oh, there's Luna. She's dueling Bellatrix with-"

"HELL NO!"

"Erm..." Ulquiorra watched as Grimmjow dashed towards Bellatrix, deflecting incoming curses with his claws. He roughly pushed Luna behind him and out of the way, before barking at everyone else to back off. He continued to dodge and deflect Bellatrix's spells and turned his head to Mrs. Weasely, who was attempting to join him, and yelled, "Back off lady, the crazy bitch is mine!", and fired a small mock-Cero at Bellatrix who shrieked with insane laughter as she threw herself out of the way.

"Yeah...I'll leave you to that."

Ulquiorra made his way to Voldemort, noting that even Kingsley, McGonagall, and Slughorn combined were barely equal to his power. He put a hand on Murciélago, ready to draw, when he heard a loud cackling shriek. He turned to see Grimmjow dodge Bellatrix's last curse, and impale her stomach with four extended claws, palm up; Grimmjow's oldest signature move. Bellatrix gurgled blood and coughed, no longer laughing. Grimmjow held up his other hand, and sneered "Later Crazy." He incinerated her head with his Cero imitation before shoving the remaining body off his claws to thud to the floor.

Ulquiorra whipped around to see Voldemort scream in fury as his most loyal and best Lieutenant collapsed, his rage exploding like a grenade, sending McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn flying. Voldemort's wand pointed at Grimmjow and fired a curse. Or he would have, if Ulquiorra hadn't intervened.

"Sorry," Ulquiorra muttered, charging up his own bright Avada Kedavra green Cero imitation, wincing slightly at the feeling. He hadn't realized that charging up Ceros (or mock Ceros) stung. He must've never realized because of his former steel skin. "You didn't give me a fight, so I won't give you one." And with that, he fired and incinerated the most powerful wand in existence, leaving Voldemort wandless and at Ulquiorra's mercy.

Voldemort stared in utter shock, red eyes wide, as his undefeatable wand crumbled into ash in his hand, and turned to the source of the green light that ended his weapon's existence. Ulquiorra stood in front of him. "Hello again." Ulquiorra said, stepping forward, hand on Murciélago's hilt. "Been awhile."

He removed his hand from his blade to raise it to silence the now screaming and ecstatic crowd. "Everyone, calm down and stay back. This is my fight." Ulquiorra tilted his head. "Well, my kill anyway."

"So, this is it then." Ulquiorra said thoughtfully. "The climax to our little tale. Disappointing really."

"Potter doesn't mean that," Voldemort said, his red eyes wide. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Shield? I don't use shields. Intentionally, at any rate." Ulquiorra said. "I will kill you all by myself."

"With what? That sword? A muggle weapon. Or is it love again?" said Voldemort, his snake's face jeering. "Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter— and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you from dying now when I strike?"

"Strike?" Ulquiorra asked. "Strike with what? In case you hadn't noticed, I vaporized your wand. And you shouldn't underestimate love." Voldemort scoffed. "Love can bring monsters to their knees, you see. It can mold them, transform them. It can birth feelings that make a non-existant heart beat."

"And what would you, Harry dear, know of monsters?"

"I used to be one." Ulquiorra replied. "Long ago. Before you, perhaps even before Dumbledore, I don't know. I lost track of time. One tends to when one is starving."

"I was unfeeling. I was alone. I didn't care for life. Unfeeling, cold. And hungry. I was very hungry." Ulquiorra continued. "I simply wanted to survive, nothing more. So I ate." He could feel their eyes on him, confused eyes wondering what the hell he was talking about. "See, the thing is that it doesn't even taste good. But the hunger tricks you into thinking it's the best tasting meal in the world."

"And what, pray tell, would this meal be?" Voldemort sneered and Ulquiorra smirked. "Why, humans of course." Ulquiorra chuckled lightly among the gasps and screams of horror and disgust. "Humans are very soft, and Hollows are tough. They are stringy and hard, but they satisfy the hunger. The craving for power. Power," Ulquiorra said, "is the only way to survive that place. No good. No evil. Only power and survival. You told me something similar once." He drew his sword. "I became powerful, powerful enough to regain a human form, to get a sword. The price was my heart." He tapped his sternum. "No emotion, no love. Nothing. I would kill, if told to. Only, if ordered, but nevertheless. Killing was easy, wouldn't you agree?

"I had a master, a Lord, like yourself, only he could crush you like a bug. I greatly respected him. In a world of trash, he was something of worth. He brought a woman one day. A human woman, and assigned me to be her warden. She was a prisoner, and I had to make sure she ate. She was...pure. Innocent. Full of emotion and love and courage. I didn't understand her, of course. I was curious. What was a Heart? If I cracked open her skull, would it be there? If I tore her chest apart, would I find it? No. I wouldn't, because its here." he opened his hand and stared down at it. "The Heart is here, in my hand. She gave me one." He walked toward the taunt, shocked and scared wizard. "I was dying, and she gave me a Heart. She gave my the Heart to feel again. To forge bonds and friendships and love. And that is why I am going to win. Because I'm not alone. I'm never alone." He raised the tip of his sword to rest of Voldemort's heart. "I have friends and my woman. Maybe not always with me in body, but I can feel their presence with my Heart. And I am never alone. Not to mention," Ulquiorra added, feeling his Demon Bat claw up his back to his perch on his shoulder. "I'll always have Murciélago with me. Right, Murciélago?"

"Right Master!" she chirped happily among the screams and Grimmjow's roaring laughter. Voldemort was frozen, silent. "Can we kill him now? I'm getting bored."

It was very simple, and very anticlimactic. To be blunt:

Ulquiorra stabbed Voldemort in the chest. Voldemort screamed in pain/anger and coughed up blood. Voldemort died.

And that... was pretty much the entire final showdown.

"Phft. LAME."

"Shut UP, Grimmjow!"

"...So. Now what?" Grimmjow asked as the two sat down on a bench. The house tables had been put back, but everyone was jumbled together. Neville was surrounded by admirers, sword of Gryffindor on the table in front of him, and Ron and Hermione were God knows where (probably making out somewhere). It was just Ulquiorra, Grimmjow, and Luna. Ulquiorra looked among the masses. "I'm not sure," he said finally. "They have forgotten my speech to Voldemort in the moment, but they'll remember soon enough."

"It was such a moving speech." Luna chimed in happily, sipping a glass of pumpkin juice with an onion cocktail stick. She kicked her legs back and forth happily. Ulquiorra stared at her, in bemused acceptance at the oddity that was Luna Lovegood. "Er, yes." Ulquiorra said. "I meant the eating humans part."

"Oh. Were you once one of the monsters? I see them outside of Hogwarts sometimes. It's why I grow Gurdyroots, you see. They don't like the smell." Grimmjow stared at her. "You're fucking perfect, you know that?" Luna giggled dreamily. "Always and Never."

"I was. So was Grimmjow. I was the stronger one-"

"HEY!"

"-they're called Hollows, because-"

"They're don't have hearts. Is that why they have holes in their chests?"

"...Yes." Ulquiorra frowned. "I don't think anyone will be so rational about this though. They'll ask questions soon.

"I think...It's time I went home."

"Home, Harry?"

"Yes. Home is where the Heart is after all. And by the way Luna," Ulquiorra turned to her and gave her a rare smile. "It's Ulquiorra.

Ulquiorra Schiffer."

A/N: Anyone notice the Black Butler crossover? Hee hee...

Epilogue chapter next!