Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter, disregards all Ouran chapters after 64. Long Author's Note at the end (please at least skim), story part is actually quite short (compared to everything else), no omake

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Featuring: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 36

Contrary to popular belief – or Takashi's anyway – Harry did not spend his time before midnight sleeping. He was thinking. As a matter of fact, he was thinking a lot, about a variety of things, mostly surrounding the dire situation and how he could do absolutely nothing. While he was talking he could at least mentally prepare those around him, and himself, for the obviously imminent death. When his tongue had been stuck to the roof of his mouth, Harry found himself more helpless than he could ever remember.

In every life-or-death situation Harry had been in, he had had options. The troll? He could have run away. The bucking broomstick? He could have let go. Facing down Quirrell he could have backed down and relinquished the Stone. All of second year could have been avoided by obeying Dobby, he didn't have to seek out Ginny, and he could have played dead when Fawkes healed him rather than face down Riddle. Third year, he had the option of running away, of not saving Sirius, and in fourth, while he couldn't avoid the situations, he could make his own way through the Tasks or forfeit during the final task. Even facing Voldemort he had options: allowing himself to die, leaving Cedric's body behind, different choices of spells, the works.

Hell, even when he'd been kidnapped he'd been able to try to save himself by uselessly brandishing the ornamental sword that had been on the wall of Malfoy Manor. He'd had options upon options every time he was confronted with death, so being stuck without any impact was a shock.

The fact that he was literally stuck to the floor, completely immobile but for his face and the fact that he could flex any muscle not on the backside of his body, was even worse really. Because he was looking up, he could see Death Eaters who came to the stage's edge to taunt the muggles.

So he didn't look.

He didn't really think about feigning sleep, he simply closed his eyes, ignored the uncomfortable pressure that made him feel as though gravity had been multiplied – obviously a side-effect of whatever sticking spell had been used – and breathed slow and shallow. It didn't occur to him that anyone would be looking at him (he couldn't bear to try to look at Takashi in this moment, especially when he could hardly see him to begin with) would think him asleep, at ease even, rather than the ball of nerves that he truly was. But, then, no one would be looking, would they?

Dong

A loud bell sounded suddenly, the same one that proclaimed the hour every day and every hour, and a stampede of feet across marble and wood caused Harry to acknowledge the existence of the rest of the world and leave his spiral of thought. It was time to face his death. This flurry of movement did nothing to help Harry's nerves.

Dong

"Get your arses in gear!" Bellatrix screamed over the din, obviously not even thinking to make use of a simple Sonorus. "Mulciber, ready the –"

Dong

" – Courtyard! I said it's in the bloody courtyard!" Malfoy snapped somewhere to the East wall. "So help me Merlin, if you can't follow some simple –"

Dong

" – Patterns are all wrong," Rookwood's voice was calmer than either of the others, though it boomed at a level known only to those using enhancement spells of some sort. "Space them more evenly or –"

Dong

Harry tried to take something, anything in as the Death Eaters ran to and fro to set up the last of the ritual. Why they waited until the clock started chiming, he could say, but that seemed to be what they had been intending all along. They gave themselves scarcely more than ten seconds to set up their ritual beyond sticking all the crowd to the floor (and 13 purebloods to the wall from what he heard), and yet things seemed to be running smoothly.

"More to the left Avery!" Rookwood snapped.

Dong

"Set up containment now!" A shudder passed through Harry at the last syllable to leave Lucius' mouth. A shudder of magic, though he had no idea what. Just that it was strange.

"And –"

Dong

" – Don't let any body parts out of that circle!" Rookwood snapped. "Look, you just have to –"

Dong

" – Swish and flick!" screeched Bellatrix from somewhere to Harry's left. "Swish and flick I said! What are you, some first year mudblood? Just get on –"

Dong

" – Top of the world!" Some nearby Death Eater giggled. "I'll ask to rule a nation. Atlantis I think..."

"Oi! I want Atlantis!" Another Death Eater protested loudly.

"Well we can always share –"

Dong

" – A piece of cake," Walden MacNair's throaty chuckle echoed from the stage. "That what this is! A sodding cakewalk. And why did we have to come here of all –"

Dong

"Places! Everyone get into your places or it won't be the aurors you want to run from!" Lucius bellowed. One final flurry of movement, pops, bangs, slams, and smacks before –

Dong

A loud crackle burst through the room, like lightning, and it tinged the room a brilliant shade of crimson, rather like the blood that was forbidden from interacting with the ritual.

Bye, Takashi, Harry thought. He kept his eyes wide open.

Even if he had to take his fate lying down, he would at least face it as best he could.

Bellatrix Lestrange née Black was practically cackling with glee. Well, alright, she was cackling with glee. It was eleven thirty by the local time, one hour until midnight on the seventh of the month. Eleven rituals performed, creating a shape of no magical significance but that it was a shape chosen by magic itself. Eleven rituals that, as the last of them, would grant Bellatrix her greatest desire.

The ritual in question would summon a djinn of great power who would grant one wish to anyone involved in freeing it – those who lived to tell the tale that is. It would take the power of at least twenty wizards and witches – they had forty – and the sacrifice of at least thirteen magical cores. Naturally, the most powerful to offer up would be those of purebloods, and better yet they had found some blood traitors in the crowd to act as those sacrifices.

Of course, some of the newer recruits had asked questions regarding certain participants. One of the new girls, Charlotte Pamplemousse (1), had protested the use of Viktor Krum as one of the thirteen sacrifices. Bellatrix stopped that by asking the girl if she would rather take his place.

Then there was Marcus Flint, a relatively recent Slytherin graduate – only a couple years out – who had asked about the half-veela named Delacour. It was obvious what he would rather use the half-breed for, but Bellatrix quelled any urges he might have either, only in a more violent manner than she had Charlotte. But she hadn't broken anything. Not permanently least ways.

"Let me get this through to you," she informed the young wizard who was making very close friends with the heel of her boot. "Those creatures are not human; they are as far from humanity, wizards and witches, as can come. They are impure, the scum of the earth. The veela-girl is just as disgusting as my cousin's pet werewolf or those little mudblood urchins. They are on the floor for a reason Flint – to be looked down upon."

Flint would have nodded were it not for her heel on the bridge of his nose. As it was, he could formulate no response between that and the dangerous walnut wand pointed at a very delicate bit of anatomy. She took his silence for acquiescence and allowed the teen to return to the full and upright position.

Bellatrix – known to her enemies sometimes as Hella-bitch (the idea of one Frank Longbottom, deceased) – cackled lightly before practically skipping over to the edge of the stage where Rookwood was still doing his little Q&A thing. Yes, in less than half an hour she could wish her Lord back to life and all would be well. He would approve of such wholesale slaughter of muggles in the effort to return him, surely. The dried up muggle corpses, crackling with flames from the djinn's summoning.

"The squibs are down as well because you are bad stock," Rookwood informed a blond boy who, from what Bellatrix had seen before the attack, was in a Black Magic Club with Potter (oh how glad she was that Potter chose this school to attend). In fact, the boy might have passed for a Malfoy were his eyes not so bright; he was certainly pale enough despite the fact that he was obviously at least of some asian descent. "Squibs are a punishment on a family who stray from the pureblood way, for marrying the impure or any other number of reasons. Squibs breed only squibs."

"That's not true! My little sister is going to be a fully fledged witch!" The boy snapped. Bellatrix smiled slightly. So that was the little girl's brother? Bellatrix flicked her gaze to the little blonde girl who had fallen unconscious on the wall. She couldn't have been more than four, maybe even five years old. Fresh magic for the djinn to devour. "And my parents are both squibs, same as I am."

The squib boy – for that was all Bellatrix knew to call him – seemed more proud than anything. Not frightened at all... though had she known his character and habits, she would know that his lack of being creepy was a sign of his fear.

Still, she sent one of Snape's "langlock" hexes at the boy who grunted in surprise before falling silent again. Honestly, the Japanese language irked her to no end, but after spending the better part of a year in the country, she had learned that it was best to simply silence them, in whatever manner she pleased. Sadly, in this instance, she couldn't just kill the blighters.

She whiled away the time by casting the cruciatus on random muggles. She considered using it on Potter again – what a wake-up call! – but refrained. It might cause a burst of accidental magic, which she absolutely did not want to happen. It could screw up the entire ritual to come.

Then the midnight bell began and everyone on stage burst into motion, running and apparating about as needed. Bellatrix snapped orders as quickly as she could, berating Flint when he failed to perform a simple Wingardium Leviosa to get the runic jackets in place on one of the wall decorations (better known as Viktor Krum). They had a very limited space to work in, but they managed to get the last of the runes placed (pre-drawn of course) at the clock's final stroke, true midnight.

Midnight was actually a strange time to perform a dark ritual; normally they were performed at three am because it was the "dead hour," the time when most people are at their deepest sleep and when people most often died in hospitals. It was one of the few times that three was considered a dark number... but that was entirely beside the point.

With Lucius and Rookwood, Bellatrix slapped her hand on the main rune, the one that had been placed on the stage. This action was mirrored all across the room as Death Eaters all touched the runes – excluding those attached to the pureblooded prisoners – and Bellatrix couldn't help but grin as the magic flowed from her body to feed to ritual like a lake into irrigation canals, mingling with the greater font that was the Easternest Node.

The effect was immediate. The temperature skyrocketed and visible lines of magic surged through the room like vibrant red lightning. It crackled over Bellatrix's skin and she shuddered, all her instincts screaming to get away from the heat, that sensation, the unmistakable feeling of dark magic. But she leaned in to its touch instead; Bellatrix, both as a Black and a Lestrange, had never been one to listen to something to simple and muggle as instincts.

Every nerve was on fire, and she could feel sweat beading all over her body from the intense heat that came from the red lightning that pawed at her. It was perfect, any moment there would be fire and death and the djinn!

When the touch receded, the most infamous of Voldemort's Inner Circle allowed her eyes to flutter open and watch the lightning again even though it burned her eyes to watch.

Just another moment, she grinned manically, watching the center of the circle. Red lighting crackled in a dome. Just one more...

A harsh sweat broke out over Takashi's skin, the air thick with heat. He swallowed thickly, only barely noticing that his tongue had been freed from whatever spell it had been put under by his captors. This was the second time in a month that he was helpless, only this time he knew that his freedom would not be won by aurors and magic; this time there was no escape but of his own making. And he couldn't make it.

As a bolt of red-hot magic crackled over his chest, Takashi flinched away.

Meaning he moved.

The National Kendo Champion realized immediately the implications of such and slowly made sure that his idea was correct, and it was. At some point, not only had his tongue been freed of its binding, but his body as well. He could move, all his limbs and muscles. The shinai that went with his costume was free for use.

Only there was nothing to use it on.

Still, mobility to his limbs allowed for more than attack. Takashi sat quickly and carefully and was not surprised to find that Harry was just where he believed him to be (Takashi had very good peripheral vision) and did not hesitate in trying to pry him up. Harry did not move, but the surprise on his face at Takashi's ability to do so was apparent.

So was his wish for Takashi to find some escape, but Takashi was not going to leave his boyfriend behind. Or his cousin, family, or the rest of his friends and schoolmates for that matter.

Takashi shook his head, but moved on to check on the others. Mitsukuni was already sitting up and flexing his hands in shock at being freed, and Kyouya was pulling himself to the same position. It was interesting to see Kyouya with sweat beading his brow – the second year was always calm, collected, and distinctly not exhausted – but that was something to think of when they were not in a deathly situation. Even if that time only came when this ritual was over and they were sitting on some fluffy clouds with golden harps.

There was no problem whatsoever in getting the rest of the Hosts up, though Hikaru and Kaoru seemed almost as though they were made of lead when they were getting up. Yet Harry could still not be removed from the floor in those extra seconds as the temperature rose ever higher and the red bolts crackled along the floor and through the air, undisturbed by anything.

All over the room, others were getting up, trying to flee only to be turned back by the lightning. Whether they were repelled physically or by their own fright was anybody's guess, but the fact remained that most of those in the room – in the space of half the half minute it took for the temperature to become nearly unbearable to any but those most inclined to tropical climates – were no longer on the floor. In fact, through the forest of legs Takashi could see only one other person who remained adhered, and that was Harry's unofficial aunt Tonks Nymphadora.

It took about two additional seconds for Takashi to realize just why they were still stuck; magic. Somehow it was now those with magic who were stuck, and the non-magical people, the muggles, were free to stand and walk and face death on two feet.

The lightning reached fever pitch, creating a great dome of lightning; a single bolt went straight down from the center –

And it dissipated into nothing. All of it, the magic lightning, the crackle it brought to Takashi's skin to give him goosebumps, the heat – all of it vanished as if it had never been. A cool breeze wafted through the high window, bringing with it the scent of an Ouran spring (something all the students were intimately familiar with after so many), and Takashi could feel his sweat cooling.

He was also hyper-aware of the fact that no one had moved, not even the Death Eaters who observed from the stage, the three leaders. They all stood stalk-still, as though incapable of perceiving this one gaping flaw in their plans. What had once been the makings of a deadly inferno was now a room filled with rather angry muggles and a few confused wizards.

His shinai had already made contact with the head of Malfoy Lucius – the same Death Eater who had once kidnapped Harry and who had taunted Takashi's boyfriend, who spawned the only person Harry had ever physically harmed "the muggle way" – before he even realized what was going on, instead letting his body take the helm. It wasn't a move he regretted either, as his sudden leap to the stage shook the rest of his fellow non-magical people out of their stupors.

Something which was not reciprocated by the Death Eaters until the angry muggles were already upon them.

Takashi did have to dodge a spell from the woman Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange, but for once he had no problems with hitting a lady. She had tortured Harry somehow; she was no lady, that was for certain.

A loud thud and crack from behind him alerted Takashi to the presence of the man who had been talking all throughout the waiting period, as well as Mitsukuni's presence on top of the aforementioned man's chest. He was down; good. He deserved it too, for lording himself and his colleagues over the many muggles who were present.

"Takashi, I'll tie them up!" Mitsukuni was already ripping down the drapes from the stage – heavy black ones that had obvious cost many a pretty penny – to which Takashi nodded before going off to help take down some more Death Eaters. With the wizards involved in the ritual down, both as the large sacrifice and the "pure" sacrifice, it was up to the muggles to rebel, and rebel they did.

Interesting how roughly forty surprised Death Eaters can be taken down with little effort by over 200 muggles. Though, to be fair, a few muggles of the same caliber as the Morinozuka and Haninozuka families would be able to take down the Death Eaters with or without the element of surprise. Wizards simply weren't versatile enough.

It was only when the Death Eaters had been trussed up and their wands confiscated that Takashi allowed himself to head back to the stage area where Harry was still lying. A relieved look on the young wizard's face turned into a stern one.

"What are you doing over here? I'm fine," Harry informed Takashi easily. Obviously hadn't been worried about himself as soon as everything failed and that worry had instead gone to Takashi, though he had likely been worrying about the soon-to-graduate teen the entire time. "Call the police and ask for the auror department." Takashi could only nod, though his gaze didn't leave Harry. "I'll be fine."

"... Aa," Takashi nodded again.

He didn't leave Harry's side the entire wait.

To say that Harry was surprised to find Takashi leaping over him all of a sudden, the sweltering heat suddenly gone with the crackling of lightning and the red light that had permeated the room now gone, would be an understatement. He should be dead. He should be in some void of unfeeling, or perhaps floating about as a ghost, or, depending on what religion had it right, living a new life, floating on a cloud, sitting in an even hotter place than the room had been, or any other number of things that might have happened.

This was not the case as Harry found himself watching as, quite abruptly, all the muggles around the room (for they had been freed somehow, while only Harry's tongue was released). It was… shocking to say the least. He couldn't see it happening, but Harry heard cries of pain from people who were certainly not muggles. No muggle Harry had ever spoken with had sworn about Salazar's ingrown toenail.

In fact, the only visual evidence Harry had was that there were no muggles about him – and Lucius Malfoy's trussed up and unconscious body being thrown off the stage by Hani. But that was all the evidence he needed to know that the Death Eaters – the sodding Death Eaters who had made life in Britain hell for so long – were getting their asses handed to them by a bunch of rich muggles, most of them fattened or spoiled rotten, yet they didn't balk at resorting to good old fashioned violence.

It was about three to five minutes later (Harry couldn't keep track of time without a watch) that Takashi returned. Harry was glad to see him whole – someone was bound to have been hurt in the assault – but there were more important things to take care of than Harry at the moment, and he knew that Takashi knew it.

In the space of two minutes, a full assault force of aurors had stormed in and started setting things to rights. They took down the apparition blockers (2) and started taking out the Death Eaters to get them imprisoned and then the injured (thankfully the worst injury was a broken rib) to the hospital. It was a swift process, though the magical law enforcement officers were careful and scanned for any extra threat before they even considered trying to free those who were still stuck to the ground.

Harry was the first one up, and as much as he wanted to hug Takashi, the one who initiated the muggle rebellion, he was still surrounded by aurors who seemed intent to talk to him as he was led through the room. Takashi followed the group though, keeping as much an eye on Harry as Harry was on him.

"We're going to call in an obliviation team as soon as we're down questioning everyone," Captain Watanabe stated as the ward team starting prying Tonks up from the ground. "This is a serious breach… how did we not know they were going for the Node?" The captain seemed highly agitated with himself.

"It was hardly obvious," Harry pointed out. "But… if I pay the fee, can they not be obliviated, or is this too many people for it to be alright?" Wheels were already turning in Harry's head. A lot of very rich people all with a blank spot in their memories on the night of a rather important performance that everyone had been building up for; not only were most of them smart enough to figure it out, but there were so many possibilities to be explored if the heads of so many prominent companies knew of magic.

"I suppose you could, but the courts might still overturn that and obliviate them at a later date," Watanabe pointed out.

Tonks sent Harry a wink and said, "go for it," before she suddenly popped off the ground with a "whoosh" noise. "Those were the most unpleasant three hours of my life," she made a face before nodding to the aurors and rushing to Remus' side for a snog.

"I'll transfer the fees when the banks open on Monday," Harry decided before he could be overturned. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

But it seemed fate would not have it so, as Harry found himself suddenly surrounded by classmates and others who were very interested to know just what had been happening and who those people had been because he clearly knew. They wanted to know everything, and Harry had already pledged himself to pay for their revealing. So he explained as best he could, some students obviously bringing his words back to their parents who were far too dignified to ask a teenager things like that but needed, or wanted, the information just as badly as their children.

It took a while, but eventually all the magical people who had inadvertently been involved were free from the floors and walls – Sirius and Krum having been priority as soon as the aurors realized they were there, as well as Tamaki's grandmother (and wasn't that a shock!) – and Harry was even more swarmed. Just as he felt he was going to be crushed in the crush of students, parents, and aurors who were trying to get things in order in the crowded show room, he was saved.

And how glad to be saved when his savior came in the form of his boyfriend.

At the time, Harry had been pressed against the foot of the stage with very little personal space as he tried to explain magical medicine to Kyouya's father Yoshio and a few other medical families who were present. He had just been finishing and a group of Kasanoda's "brothers" were coming (they still scared Harry). With the cramped conditions, even the big, open room didn't make him feel very assured that the wall at his back was the only one closing in on him.

And Takashi had just lifted him out of the press of people as if he weighed nothing (which, by comparison, he might as well). Harry was very thankful to be saved, and even more so to finally see his boyfriend.

So thankful that he didn't even pause in pulling Takashi down for a kiss. (3)

Maybe the whole magic-muggle integration thing that his mother had tried to start would work out. But for the moment, Harry had more important things to think about - like getting the life snogged out of him by Takashi.

Author's Note: Yeah, that was the last chapter... wow. It took me the better part of five months, but I did it! Don't forget to send in omake suggestions/requests either! I think I may have forgotten to jot a few down though... ehehe... well, if I forget any that were requested I'll just insert them, but still. You have until the omake chapter is posted to request!

So much for finishing by the end of November though, eh? Oh well. I'll have everything else up by Xmas (I hope). I don't intend to go beyond New Year though, that's for sure. Either way, this is now the longest story in the Ouran archives! Until the other really long story updates that is. (Though if they don't update before me I can get even more of a buffer in there!)

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed; there are a lot more than I expected upon starting this story. Though if everyone who had me on alert, favorite, and/or C2 were to review, that would pretty much double my current reviews... it won't happen, but I can dream, can't I? Anyway, it has been a great experience to write this story – never mind actually draw it to a close! – and I hope you lot enjoyed it... and that my first-ever ending didn't fail. Considering this story has eaten my brain... well, I gotta hope I'm not the only one, right?

(1) pamplemousse is French for grapefruit. Some friends of mine who speak French have an in-joke about calling each other that. (Thanks to Sealunis for the spelling!)

(2) Not anti-apparation wards, which stop all apparation and disapparation. Apparation blockers prevent apparation through it, but not within it (Point A is outside, point B is inside, you cannot apparate from point A to point B, but if point A is within the barrier you can).

(3) This made the fangirls very happy. And every happy ending has to have a kiss between the leading man and his... uh... anyway, smoochy smoochy for Takashi and Harry! Yay.

By request, a list of clues throughout the story on the whole Death Eater thing (I don't remember them all now though...):
In chapter 6 and 24 (mentioned), the candle ritual failed at Ouran and ONLY at Ouran. None of the rituals performed there have worked (Nekozawa's theory about rune arrangement was false, only assumed true because it worked at his house).
In chapter 13, Lucius did nothing but rile Harry up, showing he really doesn't care if Harry is in Japan. (However, someone would have looked into it as soon as they found out because some Death Eaters will hold a personal grudge against him) They never bothered to hound him, and even as Harry says "they probably knew he lives in the neighborhood" they don't do anything.
In chapter 20, Draco says, "You think the entire world revolves around you, don't you Potter? Ever think that maybe I just so happened to be enjoying a holiday outside of England and that you might not have anything to do with it?" which alludes to the Death Eaters not caring about Harry in the grand scheme of things.
In chapters 33 and 34, it is mentioned (for a moment) that the locations mentioned in those chapters which had been attacked followed the Ouran seasons. This was also mentioned in chapter... 12 I think? That the lake followed Ouran seasons I mean.
The DEs have attacked 11 places – compared to 7 and 13, 11 is an innocuous number. But I figured it must have some significance because kids start learning magic at 11. So, 11 (in my mind) is for stability as it is when a child's magical core begins to stabilize and prevent accidental/wish magic. Combining that, it is a stability of wishes. If that makes sense.
The reason to ritual failed (to those who didn't figure it out); when Harry was under cruciatus, he bit his cheek and spit blood out on the stage, meaning the purity of the ritual was broken before they ever set up the final stage. This might not have done too much – maybe weakened the ritual – except for the fire dampeners and other spells that had been set up for the expected Black Magic Club show, which interfered with the stability of the Node.