Someday, somehow, I will figure out the secret of updating on a reasonable basis. In the meantime, however...

...Please don't hurt me.

Note: If this isn't showing up in the Chapter 14 slot, it should be. The site seems to be having difficulty putting content in the same order as the Story Manager. I'll rearrange them manually once traffic dies down.

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

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

Harry Potter and the God of Death

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First Interlude
War Stories

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Urahara whistled happily as he climbed the stairsteps to the library. The gaslamps flared to life as he entered, casting a flickering light over the books. He walked over to the area he'd designated as his temporary laboratory. He'd been putting it off for the past few weeks, instead focusing his efforts on helping his young protégé prepare for the coming school year. That, and he had to wait for some of the more sensitive equipment to arrive from Seireitei; Mayuri had been most upset that he couldn't undertake the task himself, but had reluctantly agreed to provide the necessary tools for examination once Urahara had explained why the item couldn't be brought into Soul Society – he did, however, demand in no uncertain terms that Urahara would turn over anything and everything he discovered to the Twelfth for proper documentation and further… analysis.

But the equipment was finally here and Ichigo was gone. Time to get to work.

He stopped whistling and came to a halt. "I know you're there," he said to the empty library. "No use in hiding."

A patch of air next to a bookshelf shimmered and waved and Alastor Moody appeared, holding some sort of gleaming silver cloth.

"So, you could see me," he growled, tucking the silvery substance into a pocket.

Urahara smiled widely, fan in hand. "Well, I wouldn't call it 'seeing' so much as 'feeling'… What can I do for you this fine evening, Moody-san?"

The old auror fixed the shopkeeper with an intense, odd-eyed stare. "I think you have some explaining to do."

Urahara hummed thoughtfully from under the brim of his hat. "Oh?"

"Indeed," Moody grunted. "Something very odd happened last night when Molly tried to tackle that boggart; I think you just might know something about it."

Urahara sighed and snapped the fan shut. The locket would have to wait. Ichigo was going to kill him the next time they met…

"What do you want to know?"

Moody's magical eye stopped swiveling in its socket to fix him with a piercing stare.

"Everything."

"'Everything,' eh?" Urahara repeated, moving past the old auror and pulling out a few chairs beside the desk, carefully setting aside the neatly-stacked file folders and oddly-shaped beakers that littered the tabletop. "In that case, you'd better sit down. This may take a while." He glanced over to the far corner. "And tell your friends there's no use in eavesdropping, either. I know you're there, you two."

There was a loud crash from behind a distant bookshelf and a display featuring the collected works of Malecrit fell to the floor in a plume of dust. From the cloud emerged a sheepish and violently-coughing Black, followed by an exasperated Lupin. Moody looked both unsurprised and unimpressed to see them.

"I told you it wouldn't work, Padfoot," Lupin said mildly, brushing dirt off his robes.

"Yeah, well…" Black muttered, shooting his friend an irritated glare. He turned to Urahara. "How did you know where we were, anyway?"

Urahara simply smiled. "Oh, I have my ways… now please, take a seat. And where are my manners," he added, adopting a shocked expression. "I haven't offered my guests drinks. Just a moment. It should be in here somewhere…" He rummaged around in one of the large, wooden crates that lined the walls of the room, tossing aside a number of strange, questionable items, including a lacy parasol, something that Moody thought looked suspiciously like a muggle rocket launcher, and a disturbing number of folded paper fans. "No… no… not it… nope… what is that doing in here?… no… hmm…"

"Need a hand?" Black asked idly as a box of violently purple gloves smacked into a shelf displaying an original copy of Sonnets of a Sorcerer.

Urahara straightened and smiled apologetically, still holding a long, spindly metal instrument that looked rather like a cross between a tennis racket and a television antenna. "I'm afraid my things are still in a bit of disarray… This equipment's just arrived, you see – haven't had the time to properly unpack…"

"Perfectly understandable," Lupin said. "Allow me." He drew his wand, and an instant later a fully-loaded tea tray appeared on the empty table.

"Fascinating," Urahara murmured as the tea poured itself. "How does that work? Did you rearrange the atoms in the air? How can that happen without causing a fusion or fission reaction? Perhaps if it were instantaneous… yes, that could work. Energy from fission fuelling the secondary fusion process – but there should still be some energy left over, I would think… Unless, of course, it actually is created from nothing, which would violate quite a few laws of physics – but then again, if it were an energy transformation… Not to mention the levitation. How on earth would you go about creating such a specific anti-gravity field? Unless it's actually being lifted, rather than repelled—"

Sirius suppressed a groan at the broad smile that spread across his friend's face. Remus was ever a teacher at heart. "No, no, nothing that complicated. According to the Waffling Theory—"

"Ah-hem."

Lupin broke off, glancing apologetically at Moody. "—But we've gotten a bit off topic. We'll have to discuss magical theory another day, I'm afraid."

"Oh, very well, if you insist." The tea finished pouring, and the cups lifted into the air to land gently in the hands of the four gathered around the table. Urahara settled back into his chair and looked around at the others, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "Now then. On to business. I'm not foolish enough to believe you won't go telling your leader everything we discuss tonight, so I won't even bother asking you to keep quiet," he said bluntly. "That being said, however, you must be very careful to never to let any of this information slip outside of your little group. The consequences would be… severe."

Black raised an eyebrow. "How severe are we talking here?"

Urahara tilted his head back for a moment as though thinking. "You're all familiar with the story of Atlantis?" He received a round of nodding heads. "A bit like that, only with less collateral damage. The King's Guard is thorough. Very thorough. I highly doubt you, your family, friends, coworkers, or random people you've met on the street would make it out alive if they decided to take serious action."

A ringing silence followed this pronouncement. All three had varying looks of horror on their faces. "This… 'King's Guard', they're that strong?" Lupin croaked, aghast.

"No." At the look of relief that crossed Lupin's face, Urahara almost felt bad for shattering the man's hopes. Almost. "They're stronger."

Sirius let out a weak chuckle. "You're kidding. That's impossible. Nobody has that sort of power, not even Dumbledore or You-Know-Who, or – even Merlin himself wouldn't have—"

"Ah, but you are forgetting one very important fact," Urahara said lightly. "The Guard is not human. Neither am I, for that matter. Not anymore." His expression turned serious. "Those selected for the Guard are the best of the best when they join, and their power only grows as the centuries go by. The oldest among them could likely flatten London simply by thinking about it."

"…You're serious."

"Very."

Black gulped audibly.

Moody frowned. "If that's the case, why are so you willing to talk? Wouldn't it be better to just… leave us out of it?"

Urahara smiled slightly. "It would. However, I highly you would simply leave the matter well enough alone, and it's better to tell you all the relevant information at the outset rather than let you dig around for it. Much less dangerous for all involved." He paused for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts. "For better or worse, Kurosaki-san has become involved in you affairs. As such, there are certain things you will need to understand – and he cannot tell you himself. We are operating far outside our usual capacity. As I am not quite entirely bound by the Law as Kurosaki-san is, that responsibility falls to me—"

"What law?"

"…There are some secrets that mortal men are not meant to know," Urahara said at last. "This is one of them. The King's Law…" he trailed off with a sigh. "Every Shinigami swears an oath to uphold it the moment they pick up their zanpakutou, whether they know it or not. It is absolute - to break it is a fate worse than death. Kurosaki-san has risked a great deal telling you what he has already – any more and his existence may as well be forfeit."

He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes shaded beneath the brim of his hat. The lights in the room seemed to flicker and dim as he spoke. "I will not lie. It's a dangerous world out there, beyond the likes of mortal ken. There is a very good reason for the Law to even exist – it keeps you safe. From Hollows and from us. The scale of power involved is… difficult to comprehend. Suffice to say, you are perfectly welcome to walk back out that door whenever you like. But if that happens, you don't get to find out what you want to know, and it makes my task of learning what I need to know a great deal more difficult."

Moody's normal eye narrowed. "And what exactly is it you want out of this?"

"Information," was the clipped reply. "On Dark magic and the one called Voldemort. And the Potter boy too, I suppose," he added.

Moody's face remained carefully neutral as he curled his fingers around the wand hidden in his sleeve. "And that interests you why?"

At this, Urahara grimaced. "Something is… not right with the whole situation. Dead souls that don't follow the usual progression of decay, living people who should by all rights be dead… Something is wrong. Very wrong. And I would very much like to find out what." He glanced back at the other two. "Do we have an agreement?"

Lupin exchanged a look with the others before nodding. "Yes, I believe we do."

"Excellent." The lamps flared back into life and the space in the archway of the door flashed bright silver for a split-second before fading back into transparency – though if he looked from certain angles, Moody could still see an odd, color-distorting sheen, rather like the film on a soap bubble.

"What was that?" he demanded, normal eye turning to glare at Urahara while the magical one remained fixed on the shimmering doorway.

"Hm? Oh, you mean the door. Not to worry, it's just a simple barrier spell. A variant of the Kyoumon shield. Keeps people on the outside from coming in, though you're free to leave any time you wish. We wouldn't want to be overheard, now would we?"

Sirius frowned. "If you're talking about Kreacher, he has strict orders not to reveal anything about the Order."

Urahara smiled faintly. "Ah, but this is not Order business. And even if it were, 'better safe than sorry,' as the saying goes." He settled back in his chair and took a sip of his tea, watching the three of them carefully. "So. What is it you want to know?"

The wizards exchanged a look. "What happened last night?" Moody finally asked.

A fan appeared in Urahara's free hand. "A lot happened last night. I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific."

Moody glared. "Talk. Start from the beginning."

After a few seconds' pause, the fan snapped shut. "Weeeell… Some fourteen billion years ago space-time emerged from the void of Muzen, and in that instant, the concepts of where and when began to exist, leading to the birth of the first of many spirits, Ei no Musubime—"

"Enough," Moody snapped. Sirius was outright laughing, and Remus was having difficulty suppressing a smile.

Urahara adopted a hurt expression. "You said to start at the beginning…"

The auror looked fit to explode into an apoplectic frenzy. Before the hexes could begin flying, Lupin decided to intervene. "Perhaps not quite that far back. We're more concerned with what happened last night." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Let's start with something simple. Who were those – those people? You must have seen them."

Urahara's eyes were shaded beneath his hat. "…They were – are – people Kurosaki-san has sworn to protect. His friends, his family, his loved ones. Those he would give his life to save – and in one instance, actually did. …I suspect more would have appeared," he continued softly, "If Shirosaki-san hadn't…" he trailed off, shuddering. "Be grateful he intervened when he did, or there may not have been much left of the block." He paused, thinking. "Or of the city in general, for that matter."

Moody's non-magical eye narrowed suspiciously. "Who?"

"Ah – that's right, you haven't been introduced yet." Urahara rifled through the many papers and folders stacked on his desk before extracting a thick manila envelope. "He'd much rather you meet him in person, I'm sure, but since he and Kurosaki-san are off at your magic school at the moment, this will have to do."

Moody opened it; inside were the contents of a rather detailed personnel file.

"Anzu Shirosaki. Hollow. Current co-captain of the Fifth Division of the Imperial Guard of Seireitei alongside Ichigo Kurosaki."

Moody grunted in acknowledgement, recognizing the title from Kurosaki's own introduction in the foyer of Number Four, Privet Drive. His magical eye scanned through the pages rapidly, committing them to memory. He recognized such entries as age and date of birth (or perhaps date of death in this case?) and the distinctive shape of a radar chart near the bottom of page fifteen, but the rest was a mystery.

For the moment.

What really caught his attention, however, were the photographs stapled to the upper-left hand corner. The first was motionless, unlike wizarding photos – but if it had been, the auror was positive the subject would be flashing rude hand gestures. The picture showed a sneering young man no older than eighteen or nineteen, with colorless hair pulled back into a low ponytail and a complexion to match. He could have passed for human – albeit an frighteningly pale one – if it weren't for the distinctly inhuman yellow-on-black eyes that seemed to glow with a vicious, ruthless intelligence despite the lifelessness of the image.

Beside it was another photo, this one depicting an entirely different figure. In contrast to the paleness of the first picture, it showed a hulking black creature with a mane of white hair, its face obscured by a bleached-bone mask, utterly featureless save for a vicious, sharp-toothed grin and a series of dark red stripes on the right side. Yellow eyes, just like those in the first photo, glinted from behind narrow slits. Looking at it, Moody could not help but wonder if it was based on the masks the Death Eaters had worn during the previous war… and then, more chillingly, whether the reverse was true.

"…I don't understand," Lupin said after a moment, looking between the two photographs with his brow furrowed in confusion. "Are… that… from last night, and… this… he looks a lot like Kurosaki, but…"

The old auror scoffed. "More than 'a lot,'" he growled, passing the dossier to an impatient Sirius. "They're identical."

"Of course they are. Why shouldn't they be?"

"For starters, it is highly unusual for two unrelated people to look that much like each other," Sirius said dryly, examining the two photographs. "For another, even identical twins generally don't have the same exact face. If it weren't for the haircut, I'd think this was a photo of Kurosaki after an accident with Colour-Changing Charms."

Urahara smiled thinly. "You're not… too far off, I suppose. He is Kurosaki-san – or rather, was."

Black tilted his head to the side, confusion evident on his face. "Er… what?"

Urahara shifted uncomfortably. "There were… complications during his training program. The process of forcibly awakening latent spiritual abilities is difficult, to put it mildly. Even under normal circumstances, some form of life-threatening danger is required, and Kurosaki-san's was hardly a regular case. The combination of two diametrically opposing processes was risky, but given how well the theory worked out – and it did work, even if it wasn't in quite the way I had predicted." He shook his head. "There were… unforeseen consequences I did not anticipate. I just wish I had realized that earlier – would have saved everyone involved a great deal of time and trouble. But we didn't, so the fracture went unnoticed—"

"Hold up a second," Sirius interrupted. "What do you mean, 'fracture'?"

"Precisely what it sounds like. Hollowfication is the result of a human soul's destabilization. Shinigamification is precisely the opposite. Being pulled in both directions simultaneously is – well. Something had to give. Unfortunately, I misjudged exactly how much would."

All three of them had identical looks of confusion on their faces. "…Come again?"

Urahara sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "How much did Ichigo tell you about Hollows and Shinigami?"

They exchanged glances. "Not a lot," Black admitted. "Something about guardian spirits, maybe?"

"He said he was – you were – regulators. That you controlled the flow of souls in the world," Lupin said slowly. "And that Hollows were your opposite. 'Antithesis,' I believe is the term he used."

"Typical Ichigo-kun," Kisuke muttered, shaking his head. "He gave you the most… general description. But I suppose it was the best he could give, considering the circumstances." He gave them all a very long, hard look. "What do you know of the afterlife?"

The three of them collectively blinked, surprised by the abrupt change in topic. "And what's that got to do with anything?" Moody growled.

An odd smile flickered across Urahara's face. "As you said, 'everything.'"

Black and Lupin another bewildered look. "Well… nothing, really," Black said at last. "It's one of the Great Mysteries, isn't it? No one really knows at all… I tried to ask Nick about it once upon a time, but he didn't know either."

"I remember Lily talking once about what the different muggle religions say," Lupin added. "Heaven, Hell, reincarnation… it's all so different. I believe the Department of Mysteries has studied the subject on and off for ages, but I don't know what they found..."

Moody shook his head. "Nothing. The Department of Fiscal Responsibility and Monetary Appropriations cut off funding for it back in around the turn of the century. Project Tartarus has officially been cancelled, permanently."

"Why?" Lupin asked, directing his gaze at the old shopkeeper.

Urahara was silent for a long moment. "The afterlife is never as simple as it is made to sound," he began tiredly. "For the purposes of this discussion, assume there are two dimensions: the living realm – the one we currently inhabit – and Soul Society, the world of spirits. When a person dies, one of three things can happen. If their death was 'expected' – which is to say, not accidental or otherwise premature – their soul moves straight on to Soul Society and that's the end of it. However, since accidents do occur, souls sometimes linger on in the human world – becoming what we in the business call a 'Plus'—"

"We already know about the ghosts," Black interrupted. "There's a whole lot of them at Hogwarts. Been there for centuries, I reckon."

Urahara gave him a mock glare for interrupting, but made a mental note to ask the ex-con what he meant by 'ghosts' later. Now was not the time to be investigating random tangents, not if he wanted to get the whole story out before dawn. "Pluses, because they are essentially trapped in the human world, have to be sent on manually by a subclass of exceptionally powerful spirits called Shinigami. Kurosaki-san and I both fit into this category."

Moody's normal eye narrowed. "And that word means what, exactly?"

Urahara hesitated for a moment. "…The position roughly correlates to the Western concept of a psychopomp - one who guides the souls of the deceased to the land of the dead, as it were. The word itself translates as 'death god.'"

Sirius, who had just taken a gulp of tea, spat it back out. "So, wait, let me get this straight," Sirius managed to get out between coughs, "You're a god?"

Urahara snorted. "Certainly not. 'Shinigami' is little more than a pretentious title. We aren't real kami – a fact we seem to have forgotten more often than not, I'm afraid to say," he added, mostly to himself.

Lupin raised an eyebrow. "'Kami?'"

He shrugged. "They're true gods, if they can be called that," he explained. "I suppose 'aspects of the universe' might be a more accurate term, but it doesn't quite have the same ring to it." He shook his head. "I must confess that I've never been fortunate – or perhaps unfortunate – enough to encounter one. Kurosaki-san could perhaps tell you more, if he were actually inclined to talk about it…" He trailed off for a moment, lost in memory, before shaking his head as though to clear it. "But I digress. Where was I – ah, yes. Shinigami.

"Shinigami are peacekeepers, a sort of police of the afterlife if you will. Our primary responsibility is, as I've said before, to guide Pluses on to Soul Society. Unfortunately, it's almost impossible to get to every Plus before their Chain of Fate begins to corrode."

Lupin blinked. "I've heard that term before. That's what binds the – er, soul to the body, isn't it?"

Urahara nodded. "Correct. The average soul is incapable of surviving for long in the material world without an anchor and shield, such as that provided by the living body – reishi and genshi are fundamentally incompatible. Matter and antimatter, if you will. The instant the Chain is broken, the soul begins to destabilize." He tapped photograph in the still-open file. "The end result of this destabilization is a Hollow, such as Shirosaki-san here."

He sighed. "…There is no easy way to say this. Hollows are destructive by nature. By all accounts, Hollowfication is an exceedingly painful process. It drives most mad, but for those who aren't… the hunger soon takes care of that." He swirled his tea thoughtfully, choosing his next words with care. "Unstable souls require constant maintenance to survive. Imagine trying to build a tower out of marbles - the ones near the top keep rolling down the sides, so you have to keep adding more and more marbles to replace the ones you've lost. They're missing some fundamental thing, and therefore must seek it out from other sources. In the Hollows' case, that particular something is spiritual energy. Unfortunately, areas of high reishi concentration are few and far between in the living world. The sources that do exist tend to be… alive."

Moody's scars twisted into a grotesque parody of a sneer. "You're dodging the point."

Kisuke shot him an annoyed glare. "All living things produce reishi to some degree or another. The amount is based on the relative sentience of the thing in question – plant life, for example, barely registers at all, and most animals fare little better. There are occasionally reports of hunger-mad Hollows going after monkeys or dolphins – I remember some decades ago a story about a particularly insane specimen off the coast of Kyoto that had taken a liking to octopus, of all things—"

"Get on with it," Moody interrupted.

Urahara's shoulders seemed to slump. "…In any event, given that the souls of animals and plants serve as little more than hors d'oeurve and hunting their own kind is generally too risky for fledgling Hollows, the only remaining possibility is, to be blunt, humans. However—"

Lupin's face paled dramatically. "So – that – thing is a—" His hands clenched into fists, the knuckles chalk-white. "And you let – Are you mad?! Letting a monster like that into a school full of – it'll be like the Chamber of Secrets all over again! Students getting injured and – Merlin forbid, eaten - left, right, and center – and this time – this time—!"

He broke off with an odd hrking sound, suddenly finding it very difficult to breathe. Urahara's grey eyes were as cold and hard as steel, and the shadow cast by the brim of his ridiculous hat suddenly seemed much more ominous than it had been seconds before.

"Enough," he said, all traces of good humor gone from his voice. "I will not sit here and listen to you verbally attack one of my students. They get enough of that back in Seireitei, and he doesn't need it here from a grown man who should know better. Both of them would gladly put their lives on the line if it meant keeping you safe, and Anzu-kun in particular sacrificed a good part of his freedom to stay here and help your cause. If you cannot respect that fact, I suggest you leave. Now."

"But—!" Lupin was on his feet now; he wasn't quite sure when he'd risen from the dilapidated old armchair, nor had he noticed the sound of shattering china as his teacup fell to the floor, spilling half-cooled tea all over the moth-eaten carpet.

"Moony – Remus, sit down," Sirius urged, tugging insistently on his sleeve. "At least let the man explain before—"

"Sirius, you don't understand—"

"Too right I don't," he said heatedly. "I don't understand at all what's got you all riled up. Yeah, having a soul-eating lizard-thing – er, sorry," he added, glancing in Urahara's direction. Seeing no overt signs of anger, he plowed on, "—Having a soul-eating lizard-thing at Hogwarts could be bad, but it doesn't have to be. I mean, no offense Moony, but you were there for seven whole years, and nobody died then."

Lupin sank back into his chair, holding his head in trembling hands. "You don't – oh, Merlin…" He shook his head. "Sirius, those were the happiest years of my life, but also some of the most terrifying. That first year… for months I kept dreaming that I'd missed the schedule, that I hadn't made it to the Shrieking Shack in time… I was terrified that one morning I'd wake up in the middle of the Forbidden Forest covered in blood. And then when Severus—" He broke off abruptly. "Merlin, I was so scared; if it hadn't been the last month of term, I would have dropped out right then and there. Perhaps I should have, anyway." He took a deep shuddering breath. "That was when I decided. Never again. I'll admit, the Wolfsbane Potion took away many of my fears – that was the only reason I agreed to return to Hogwarts to teach. But even so… it's too dangerous. I'm an adult, I can manage – but for a child… Living in constant fear of oneself is not a fate I would wish on anyone." He smiled bitterly. "Why do you think no more werewolf children have attended Hogwarts since then? Greyback certainly created enough of them in the last war. I've been… tutoring them."

Moody's expression remained neutral, but Sirius gaped openly for several seconds before finally closing his mouth. "…Oh," he mumbled quietly. "I didn't… I guess I didn't think of that."

"No, I don't suppose you did." Lupin glanced over at Urahara, who was looking at him thoughtfully from behind the ever-present fan. "I'm a werewolf," he said bluntly. "Have been since I was a child. Werewolves are only violent during the full moon, but even so… You will forgive me if I find the prospect of something potentially even more dangerous than a werewolf staying at the school indefinitely to be terrifying."

Urahara regarded him silently for several moments. "…Your fears are not entirely unfounded," he said at last. "Were Shirosaki-san a normal Hollow of equal power, I would lead the hunt for him myself. Fortunately for all of us, Shirosaki Anzu is about as far from a normal Hollow as it is possible to be."

"But you said—"

Urahara held up a hand, and Remus fell silent. "Let me explain. Anzu-kun is a Hollow, but also… not. Not entirely, at least. He and Ichigo-kun form what is technically termed a Class II Vaizard – they are, quite literally, two sides of the same coin."

Sirius' brow furrowed. "Come again?"

Urahara stared sadly into his cup of tea. "…I suppose in retrospect I should have foreseen the possibility. That was my first mistake, one I've regretted ever since. Neither process – Shinigamification and Hollowfication – had been studied in great detail. Not by me, at least. Combining them was foolhardy, but the theory worked out so well, and given his parentage… I hadn't considered…" He sighed heavily. "Ichigo's soul was always… fragile. Unstable. When it was put under extreme stress, it… broke."

There was a collective shiver, despite the warmth of the room. Moody looked disturbed (though it was admittedly difficult to tell under the mass of scars) and Lupin looked distinctly ill, his fingers clenching and unclenching around the sleeves of his robes.

Black, however, merely frowned in confusion. "I don't get it."

His friend turned to stare. "Padfoot – how could you not – the boy's soul is fragmented—"

"I got that," Sirius said, sounding slightly annoyed. "What I mean is, I don't understand how. He doesn't strike me as the type to even be able to cast the Avada, never mind to do it often enough to cause that much damage."

Urahara frowned. "Pardon?"

Sirius gave him a lopsided grin. "My family was called the 'Blacks' and not the 'Whites' for a reason, you know. My dear old Mum had us studying dark magic as soon as we were old enough to read." He shook his head. "Dark magic pulls from the worst in people. Damages the soul every time you use it. For most minor hexes and jinxes the damage is repairable – a good night's rest will make you right as rain again. Only the worst of magic – the Unforgiveables, Fiendfyre, blood curses, necromancy, that sort of thing – can cause serious cracks."

"Ah," Urahara murmured. "No, nothing of that sort. He always had very high reiatsu, even when he was alive. Living souls simply can't handle that sort of power, not without an outlet, at least. Theoretically, he should have developed some manner of extrasensory ability – but given the absence of external stimuli, power that would have otherwise been directed outward simply wasn't." He sighed. "Any stressor would have been enough to cause serious damage, and even to a healthy soul, dying is very traumatic."

"And you know that how?" Moody growled.

Urahara's shoulders seemed to sag slightly. "…I was present at the time."

The werewolf's jaw clenched. "And you didn't try to stop—"

"No."

"But – but—" Lupin spluttered for several seconds, seemingly unable to formulate a complete thought. "But – why?"

Urahara was silent for a long moment before replying. "…We were at war. Or soon to be, anyway. There was a traitor within the Goteijuusantai, though few knew of him yet. A man conspired to steal an object of immeasurable power – one which I unwittingly let fall right into his hands. The power to make desires a reality…" He shook his head bitterly. "The war was hopeless from the beginning. He was five steps ahead of us at every turn, and given that his own power made him nigh-untouchable… we needed warriors who weren't susceptible to his influence. A wild card. Someone with enough power to actually stand a chance… and the drive to go to any lengths to succeed."

"Kurosaki," Moody rumbled.

Urahara's silence was answer enough.

"You put a child – a child—!" Remus spat. He was on his feet again, hands clenched into angry, trembling fists at his side. "How could —?"

"There were no alternatives," Urahara said quietly. "I spent a hundred years trying to find an alternative – any alternative. None had anywhere near the chance of success as that one. It was a longshot to begin with, but desperate times call for desperate measures. What else could I have done? Let that madman win?"

"Maybe you should have, if—"

"He tried to sacrifice an entire city so he could assassinate the lynchpin of the universe and rewrite the laws of reality," Urahara said flatly. "One hundred thousand souls, Lupin. Can you honestly tell me there are that many wizards in the entirety of the British Isles?"

Remus sank back into his chair, hands shaking uncontrollably. "…No, but…"

A faint, humorless smile flickered across Urahara's face. "I thought not. And that, of course, was merely the first of many battles." The smile faded and he sighed. "As horrible as Lord Voldemort is, as evil as he is, as sick and twisted and depraved… he is still human. He seeks to destroy human things, not unravel the fabric of the cosmos. I shudder to imagine what would have happened if we had failed."

"But – but why would someone do that? Why would someone want…?"

Urahara gestured vaguely in the air. "Who knows? A desire for power? Dissatisfaction with the existing system? An elaborate suicide plan? Megalomania? Boredom? No one seems to know – I certainly don't. I could usually predict what he would do, but never why." He shrugged. "Historians will be debating it for millennia, I expect – he didn't leave any personal records, so we'll never really know for certain. I suspect it doesn't really matter all that much, anyway," he added. "Whatever his justification was, it doesn't change what was done. The fact remains that several hundred of our soldiers and an untold number of civilians were killed because of what he did, and the only reason that number isn't any higher is because Ichigo ran a sword through his heart."

Lupin mouthed silently for several seconds. Sirius made put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Look, Moony—"

The werewolf abruptly stood, shrugging off the attempt at physical contact. "I – I think…" He swallowed. "I need to think. I can't – I don't – not right now, I…"

Still muttering something unintelligible under his breath, he staggered off, the barrier around the door rippling as he passed through.

Sirius watched him go, hand hovering awkwardly in midair. After a moment he let it fall back to his side, and turned to the other two, smiling uncomfortably. "He'll be – Moony'll be okay. He's just… he's never really liked… Death and destruction and all that, it's not something he really likes to…" He trailed off with a shrug. "I – I'll talk to him. He'll come 'round, you'll see. "

And he left, chasing after his friend.

Urahara sighed and took the hat from his head, running a weary hand through his hair. Really, he should have expected… He hadn't wanted this to happen. He needed their help just as much as they needed his. He shouldn't have – they simply weren't accustomed to the sheer scale of it all. But… damn it all, Lupin had asked for it.

He'd never been proud of his manipulations, but he wasn't exactly ashamed either. If the well-being of one soul had to be sacrificed to ensure the continued existence of billions others – the sacrifice had to be made. He knew that, as much as he hated it. He'd have made the sacrifice himself, if he could. What other options were there? Terrible as that whole business had been, it had been necessary, no two ways about it. He knew that… and he was fairly certain Ichigo knew it, too.

Moody's normal eye lingered on the doorway for a moment before flickering back to Urahara. "Don't worry," he said gruffly. "Lupin's a smart man, but he tends to think with his heart, not his head. Give him a few minutes to cool off."

Urahara smiled thinly. "I certainly hope so. I'd hate to offend my hosts. It would make for a very awkward few months if I have."

Moody snorted. "Unlikely. It takes quite a lot of effort to get Lupin to actually hate someone." He was silent for a few seconds before asking, "I take it you won, then?"

Urahara nodded, suddenly looking very tired. "…It was a close thing, in the end. If it had dragged on much longer, I doubt we would have succeeded. As it was, we lost several senior officers, including the old soutaichou – the man was well over three thousand, and… well. There are reasons Shinigami rarely live that long. Well over five hundred unseated officers lost their lives, and countless civilians – one of his favorite distractions involved setting powerful Hollows loose in the far districts, where we couldn't get to them in time."

Moody grunted and glanced back at the abandoned file-folder. "So who was he, then? Your enemy, I mean."

Urahara paused before replying, absently swirling the tea around in its cup. "Sousuke Aizen, formerly Captain of the Fifth Division. Currently dead. Very dead. And I, for one, am very much happier for it."

He set the teacup aside with another sigh – the contents had long since cooled, anyway – and stood, walking over to one of the large crates. He glanced sideways at Moody. "You seem very calm about all this," he commented, as he sorted through the box's contents. He was sure he'd seen it before… ah-ha, there it was.

Moody snorted derisively. "I'm just better at handling it. I saw what happened under Grindelwald – and under You-Know-Who, for that matter – and I was on the auror force for nearly forty years. I've seen damn near everything the magical world has to offer – few depths of human depravity surprise me anymore."

"Oh?"

"You've never raided a necromancer's lair midway through the Thirteen Sacraments of Yog-Sothoth ritual, have you?"

"Can't say I have."

"Count yourself lucky, then." He hesitated for a second before continuing, "My primary concern is the boggart. It looked an awful lot like Kurosaki, and I'd rather like to know if one of our allies might turn on us. Tends to be unhealthy."

Urahara straightened and turned to face the auror. "That, I can assure you, will not happen."

Moody frowned. "You're sure?"

"Very. They would rather kill themselves than ever let that happen again."

"And what was that, exactly?"

Urahara grimaced and returned to the crate. "One of the unforeseen consequences I mentioned earlier. The fracture in their soul left them… vulnerable to certain forces, especially considering they were once at odds with each other. As I said, it will not happen again."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"It's enough to know that it won't happen again."

Moody sneered. "And how do you know that? What if—"

Urahara straightened again, this time holding a metal box covered in glass panels and several knobs and dials. "There are contingency measures in place. I hope they'll never be needed, but if they are…" He shoved a few loose papers and the abandoned folder aside and set the box down, probably less delicately than he had meant to. "It will be dealt with."

Moody's normal eye narrowed. "Could you take him down if you had to?"

Urahara paused, midway through adjusting one of the dials on the box, and glared at the auror. "I fail to see how that is relevant."

"Call it curiosity."

Urahara huffed and returned to the box. "It's difficult to say. They're a frighteningly effective team when they want to be. If I had to guess… at least three high-level Shinigami would be needed to subdue them."

Moody grunted, but said no more. Silence reigned in the library for several moments, broken only by the soft beeps of the machine sitting on the desk.

"What is that thing?" Moody asked at last, when several panels flashed and it started emitting a loud, high-pitched whine.

"A radiation amplifying multipurpose digital spiritometer," Urahara said, keeping his tone deliberately light. "Seems there's a lot of interference – can't get a good neutral reading…"

"That'd be from the house," Moody said. "It's under the Fidelius Charm and Merlin knows how many other enchantments – the whole building's magically saturated."

Urahara hummed thoughtfully. "Perhaps…" He twisted another knob. The spiritometer's flashing lights and whine came to an abrupt halt. Then there was a loud crack from somewhere inside the machine, accompanied by a burst of blue sparks that left dark burns on the tabletop.

Urahara swore and turned back to the nearest crate, rooting around for something inside.

"Electricity won't work here, you know," Moody drawled.

"My equipment doesn't use electricity," Urahara snapped. He straightened again, this time holding a small toolkit and a length of thin, silvery wire. "If you really must know, it utilizes minor differences in spiritual pressure to generate spiritron flow, which can then be used to transfer energy to various devices and—"

"Right, right, not electricity, got it," Moody said hastily. "Forget I said anything." He frowned. "What are you working on, then?"

"That." Urahara pointed to a small package on the corner of the table, nearly wrapped in brown cloth. "A rather curious little artifact. Absorbs spiritual energy, you understand. Rather violently."

Moody glanced at it, then back at the shopkeeper. "And idea what it is?"

"None at all. Which is something I'd quite like to correct." He worked quickly and efficiently, carefully removing the set of tiny screws keeping the back panel in place, exposing the mess of wires inside. One of these was blackened and charred – which at least explained what had caused the sparks.

As he worked at replacing the damaged wire, he said, "Now, I believe you owe me some answers, correct?"

Moody grunted, but made no objection.

Urahara took this as a sign to continue. "What can you tell me about this Voldemort person?"

"What's there to tell?" Moody grumbled after a moment. "Man tried to eliminate all the muggleborns in Britain. Personally tortured and killed several dozen witches and wizards, as well as being directly responsible for about three hundred other deaths. And that's not counting all the muggle casualties. Highly dangerous as well – he's arguably the most powerful Dark wizard in modern history, too. Either him or Grindelwald, but most of the fight against Grindelwald took place on the continent."

"Dangerous how?"

Moody shrugged. "There's a lot of power behind his spells, and very, very skilled. Last time he practically made an art form out of the Killing Curse – and the other Unforgivables as well, naturally. Fiendfyre is another favorite of his. Hellfire, as it's also known; the name's pretty damn accurate. He's been known to dabble in necromancy too – he had a virtual army of Inferi during the last war, and wasn't averse to using them, either. So far as I know, though, he's never used the nastier necromantic spells," he added. "Probably considers relying on summoned monstrosities as beneath him, thank Merlin." He paused, leaning back in his chair and stretching his wooden leg out on the carpet before continuing. "That aside, knows an awful lot of Dark magic. I wouldn't be surprised if he knows more about magic in general than just about anyone, except maybe Dumbledore. Certainly knows enough about it to start creating spells, at least. Has some skill with wandless magic as well – particularly Legilimency, and probably its sister art of Occlumency, too."

"Pardon?"

"Mind-magics."

"Ah." Urahara carefully replaced the last of the screws and flipped the machine right-side up. "You've fought him before, I take it."

Moody grunted. "We all did. Right nightmare it was, too." He reached into the sleeve of his robes and withdrew a silver flask. He took a long draught from this before continuing. "There's long been a – I suppose you'd call it a 'sentiment' – among certain factions of the Wizarding population." He gestured to the surrounding shelves. "Families like the Blacks. Idea was that wizards without any muggle blood in them were somehow better than the rest. Load of hippogriff dung, if you ask me, but… well. Enough wizards and witches believed in it to follow You-Know-Who. I suspect the offer of unlimited power was tempting too."

He sighed and took another swig from his flask. "Anyway, he gathered up a bunch of like-minded followers and started trying to seize control of the Ministry. Political methods didn't work – comparatively few wizards buy into the pureblood philosophy these days – so… he turned to less direct methods. 'Dissuading' muggleborn children from attending Hogwarts. Using the Imperius Curse to make people turn on their loved ones. Either arranging for convenient 'disappearances' or outright torturing and murdering of those who opposed them, including civilians. Especially civilians. Soon enough, giants and rogue werewolves and all manner of dark creatures were brought in. Eleven whole years of terror, chaos, and death. Dark times, those were."

Urahara glanced sideways. "How did it end?"

"We won. Sort of. You-Know-Who disappeared after he attacked the Potter family, killed James and Lily, and for whatever reason failed to kill the child."

"I imagine that stung. Any particular reason why he went after them?" Urahara asked, once more calibrating the various dials and knobs.

Moody hesitated, his magical eye sweeping over the room as though checking for eavesdroppers. "…There was a – a prophecy. Concerning the two of them. Most don't even know it exists - I learned about it a few months ago, when Dumbledore reformed the Order. I don't know the full contents, but whatever it was, it was worth hunting down a family of very competent wizards while they were under the protection of the Fidelius Charm. Must've been important to him, at least."

Urahara grimaced. "Oh dear. Prophecies are never fun. Kurosaki-san will throw a fit."

Moody raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"He is… not fond of them. At all. Bad prior experience, I suppose you could say." He carefully unwrapped the cloth bundle, revealing a heavy, dirty gold locket. "And what of the spell? From what I understand, it's supposed to be unblockable."

Moody nodded. "It is. There's no stopping the Avada Kedavra, no blocking it. The result is instantaneous death if it hits. Merlin only knows how Potter survived."

"Hmm… Can you demonstrate the spell?" Urahara asked.

The magical eye stopped swiveling for a moment to join its partner in staring.

"Not on me, obviously," Urahara said hastily, setting the locket down beside the spiritometer. "I doubt it would work, but I'd rather not find out personally in case it actually does. I must admit I'm curious. Very few things have that effect – the soul is anchored to the body, and generally can't be removed by human means – not if the body's still in working order. The things that do…" he trailed off with a shrug. "They tend to be extremely dangerous, particularly to the living."

Moody snorted. "Obviously, if they're anything like the Killing Curse." He sighed. "…I could," he admitted after a moment. "We were authorized to use them during the last war – but that doesn't mean I like it. I'm afraid I don't know much about how it works, though – if you want to know that, your best bet is to ask Black or Snape, if you can get ahold of him."

Urahara glanced sideways at him. "Who is Snape?"

"You haven't met him. He's one of our spies. Knows more about Dark magic than just about anyone else in the Order," Moody said.

Urahara smiled. "Oh, him. Excellent, I needed to get in contact with him anyway – when will he be back here?"

Moody shrugged. "Hard to say. He's a professor at Hogwarts – not for quite some time, I imagine. Why?"

"Pity. I'd like to follow up on some theories concerning Voldemort, and reiatsu samples are very difficult to collect remotely," Urahara said sadly, returning his attention to his experiment. He placed the locket on a thin metal plate, which had wires trailing from it to the now-fixed spiritometer. After a few more adjustments, he flipped one final switch and the panels lit up and the machine began emitting a low, gentle hum.

"…I see," Moody said after a moment. "I'll see what I can do."

Urahara looked vaguely relieved. "Thank you. Please let me know as soon as possible." He turned back to the desk and began rearranging the stacks of papers that covered the tabletop.

Moody raised a gnarled eyebrow at the clear dismissal. "Was there anything else?"

"…Perhaps. There's something I don't quite understand," Urahara said after a moment. "If the Dark arts damage the soul, why would someone want to use it?"

"Best guess? For the power," Moody admitted. "Dark magic is very, very strong. There's a certain allure to it, and for some – the benefits must outweigh the costs. You-Know-Who hardly even looks human anymore, but he's probably the strongest wizard in modern history."

Urahara sighed. "I was afraid of that," he muttered. He waved vaguely at the doorway, and the barrier vanished. "Well, I daresay you've given me enough to think about, and it's getting rather late," he added, glancing at the clock mounted above the fireplace. "I'll contact you when I have more questions."

Moody stood, stretching, and lumbered over to the door. He paused in the entrance and turned around, regarding the ex-captain with narrow eyes. "What did you mean earlier, when you said you didn't think the Avada would work on you?"

Urahara gave a sardonic little smile. "My good sir, it is my experience that things meant to kill generally do not work if the target is already dead."

An odd expression crossed Moody's face and he shook his head. "…Right."

Notes:

genshi (原子) - atom

Muzen (無全) - roughly, the absence of everything

Ei no Musubime (永の結び目) - roughly, eternal knot. A variant of the endless knot, which appears in Tibetan Buddhism and has analogues elsewhere. Among other things, a symbol of eternity.

Greetings to you all!

A THOUSAND THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO READ/REVIEWED! Special thanks to Sakurayuuki19, Mel7200, DelVarO, CrossoverxToxThexDarkxSide, KitElizaKing, K. A. Raith, Love Psycho, Ciekawa Osoba, Kuroi Kokoro 99, reality deviant, MoonClaimed, PeppermintWinds, Midnayuki, Servent Satsujinki, Katy Loves Anime, mauralucky7, Morte Cacciatore, Masked Bard of Chaos, Basia Orci, Joe, HappyFestus, Jigoku no Yami, Sypher14, Strawberryfunsized, SeanHicks4, Slayer End, Maverick14th, asredwer, IchigoMoonCutter, One of the Colorless, Qwerty321, Mist of Rainbows, xxserafinxx, ephemeral violet, 10th Squad 3rd Seat, mist shadow, Ruby Silken Sun, Dark Dragon God, Wolfended, Santoka, FEIGN, Jiyle, erindolphin91, lovelymoongoddesserena, PikaSilver-Moon, MeltedsnowFlake, totellThetruth, Selenay of Antioch, Ixcall it karma, Zarosian Chaos, me encantas, Allyieh, sama-chan, phill503, bookivore, KuroitsukiNoMai, xxxWhite-Wing13xxx, SoI'llKillYou, LastManStang616, Manic Dogma, Jman12394, God of sugar, Mistress Zhou, WolfsTrinity-TSO, I Before A Except After K, Deamonslayer576, Elivira, TheMysticalFett, person, BlueMirage, Iniora Nackatori, Cat, Isis36, PoisonElixir, fancyfairy, Chindu Prince Of Darkness, Hypothetical Spiritual Entity, Chi-tanda, killroy225, Junpaku Karasu, Lightningblade49, LiveToTell, Twilightdragoness, DeathRider25, FireRaven99, hersheybarrules, flarsanzian, noxnemo, DRAGON, sweetchill, Junko, Guest #1, 3Alaska3, Shironami-Whitewave, Guest #2, DGtnsl, Timmyghost, MojoJojo93, Tomsbestbuddy, rqgenevieve, BlackGryphon101, DamionKenley117, Dyani91, BlackRoseFire, pucflek and reader713 for your lovely reviews! You all have my deepest thanks.

I'm afraid it's becoming something of a habit to start these notes out with an apology. Perhaps I do have a tendency to overapologize, but I'm fairly certain it's warranted in this case. So, here it is:

I am very, very, very, [...] very sorry for how long this damn interlude has taken to come out.

Five months (and a day) is not a record I'm proud of. It's not even a particularly long one, and there's pretty much no plot progression whatsoever (alternate titles include: "And Now For Something Completely Different" and "In Which There Is Much Expositing"), so I wouldn't be surprised if the collective readership decided to track me down and attack me with pitchforks (Note: Please do not track me down and attack me with pitchforks).

Best I can offer as reasons for the delay are being out of the country for two months (and being stuck with a seven inch bluetooth keyboard that does not work well and a word processor that likes to quit at arbitrary intervals), university-related chaos (one of my professors apparently misplaced one of my papers, resulting in an undeserved fail mark, which meant I had to try and get of a hold of the guy while he was apparently away on vacation - for all of July and August), even more univeristy-related chaos (making sure all my classes/credits are in order so I can actually graduate in the spring), and the fact that this interlude was an absolute monster to write. I swear I've had at least eight different versions of this thing floating around at one point or another. The thing just did not want to cooperate - and it shows.

Oy vey.

I'll be honest: I hate this thing. Loathe it, even. What I wouldn't have given to be able to skip it and just write chapter nineteen - but unfortunately, the conversation of this thing is a plot point-ish thing in Ch.19, and it's contents will undoubtedly show up at some point or another in the (very distant) future. At this point, however, I am well and truly fed up with fighting this thing, (really, I probably didn't do the whole 'read through and catch mistakes' thing well enough because I was tired of looking at it - this is probably a bad sign), so... well, here it is, in all its horrible, completely-pointless glory.

Yeesh. Maybe I'll come back at a later date and try to salvage it, but not tonight.

With regards to Chapter 19... I have no idea. I'd like to have it done by the end of October; in light of recent writing difficulties, this seems overly ambitious (even if I am rather excited to actually be doing something other than this bloody interlude), so perhaps November is a better guess. As per usual, take this date with a (large) grain of salt. Quasi-progress info will again be posted on my profile page.

As always, click the little blue link if you wish to leave a comment - wait, no, I can't use that one anymore. Type in that little box at the bottom of the page if you wish to leave a comment?

Much love,
Nesarna
9/23/12

PS. Knew I forgot something. Enjoy! You all deserve it.

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PPS. In case the above doesn't show up/is mangled (as I have no idea how FF.N handles ASCII "art"), everyone gets Internet Cake for helping this fic pass the 1000 reviews, 1000 favorites, and 1000 story alerts marks. Thank you all so much!