A/N ugg I really dont like this chapter very much. But I have ripped it apart a few times and am tired of dealing with it so here you go. I dont own Harry Potter or Black butler and I make no money from this. please review

Chapter 12

January 25, 1886

Undertaker stood in an empty hall hidden beneath Henry of Norfolk's country estate. Half burnt candles cast wide shadows across the dirty stone walls, shadows that twitched and withered under his poison green gaze. A frown pulled at his scarred cheeks as he gripped his scythe with bone white knuckles. He was not a Reaper anymore; it was no longer his job to witness the worst of mankind first hand by way of their Cinematic Records but the Department was backlogged… again.

Besides he would have come without orders. Little Master Hadrian had been held there in that den of depravity. Though no bodies remained, feasted on by demonkin drawn to the horrors no doubt, he was very good at his work. From the souls that hid in the jumping darkness Undertaker drew the blackest amongst them forward with the tip of a gleaming blade. The Duke's soul was a reflection of both the man and of his sins, it was a unique type of ostentatious ruin to witness, but he cowarded before the former Reaper.

Undertaker's mouth tightened; the room held no signs of the dark things done there but an echo of the many souls tormented in it would last even after the building fell. The bright, sharp eyes of The Little Master haunted him from the dark corners, reprimanding and begrudging. No, he would not have let any other reap the man; it was his pentince to suffer with what he would witness.

Undertaker raised his scythe, blade glinting in the fading light, and viciously sliced the soul down the middle. He watched the forming of the Record with eyes hidden behind his snowy hair.

~0~

January 26, 1886

Ciel sat quietly at the window of his rebuilt chambers. The moon was low on the horizon but his mind had been far too filled with thoughts to sleep. So much had happened in the span of time they had been held prisoner in Norfolk - in the world and in his soul. He could feel the foul evil infecting him, caused by the seal that he thankfully only vaguely recalled being burned into his eye, as it crept closer to the festering darkness he had hid so well. He almost feared for when the two met however that would require more energy then he wished to expand at such an hour. The blue-eyed boy sighed and let his head drop until it rested on the cold glass panes.

He had to admit to being very much out of his depth - if only to himself in the dead of night.

Ciel was a second son; born a supporting character to Hadrian's lead in the grand play of life with fewer expectations and less training because his brother was such a perfect heir. However… Hadrian was no longer well…

Fevered eyes in a bone pale face and the feel of clawed fingers gripping his arm with all the strength of the dying.

Ciel drew in a deep breath and straightened his spine. However his limited training would not stop the blue-eyed boy. He would rise to occasion like a Phantomhive should… or die trying.

The shadows grinned as dawn approached.

~0~

January 26, 1886

Baroness Angelina Burnett nee Dalles was no longer the gentle girl of her youth, nor was she the heart-sick, cracked but determined maid of more recent history. Gregory had changed her; having him and their spark of life ripped from her had mutated her; losing Vincent and Rachel had nearly destroyed her. Knowing her sweet nephews were somewhere being held for some no doubt nefarious purpose ruined her.

In the month they had been missing she had done… things. Things that made a mockery of any oaths she had once held as a physician and she had well earned her moniker as Madam Red in the Underworld for the swath she cut through the teeming ranks during her search. A few of Vincent's contacts, those that had not fled to the far corners of the globe in the wake of the tragedy, had even been willing to help her navigate the backwaters of English crime... after Angelina had proved herself; her fingers twitched in red calfskin gloves.

She was seated primely upon the davan in the green parlour, one knee over the other, waiting for one of the maids to bring the third pot of tea that morning when a different maid came rushing in, slipped and fell in a tumbled heap. Angelina blinked, then sighed at Rebecca. The young blonde maid, who really was not it turned out, smiled sheepishly as she held out a letter.

"Pardon Baroness, this arrived post haste from old man Tanaka and I thought…" The truly believable soprano explained, trailing off when the redhead veritably ripped the cardstock from her hand. Not that Angelina cared for the actor's pout at being ignored as all of her attention was on the letter. Tanaka had to have heard something, from someone she did not have access to, otherwise it was too late for the day's reports which arrived typically at half nine. She licked her dry lips and pulled open the sleeve, out of which fell a single sheet of torn parchment.

Lady Angelina,

Please come to the manor at your earliest convenience.

Tanaka

The abruptly short, if polite, note was written in a shaky hand that bordered on illegible and sent shivers of dread and distress down her spine. The fool of a man had insisted on staying on the Phantomhive Estate despite being only weeks from hospital. Angelina cursed softly because anything could have happened to the man and she was almost a day away by carriage.

"Rebecca, send for the faster carriage." She barked at the loitering blonde, who perked at the order.

"To where, my Lady?" The maid chirped.

"To Phantomhive Estate." The words dropped from the Baroness' lips with a weight upon them.

~0~

January 27, 1886

They rode through the night at Angelina's insistence; the horses were steaming and frothing at the bit as they reached what was (for a little longer) Phantomhive lands. They had just crested the rise from which she had first witnessed the burning estate when Franklin brought the carriage to a sliding, screaming halt that had her breath catching in fear for a brief moment before she stuck her head from the window to check on the coachman.

Only words froze on trembling lips as her green eyes took in The Manor breaking the morning light. It looked... it looked as if the fire had never happened. Every detail that she could see matched her memory so clearly that it stole away the little breath she had regained. A deep unease built in her belly even when Angelina told the driver to continue.

It did not surprise her much when Franklin refused to drive into the shadow of the building. So it was a slightly sweaty Madam Red who reached the bottom of the steps to be greeted by Tanaka as if her world was not tipping on its axis. She paused to take in the man who looked as if a good fright had nearly finished him. The doctor in her noted the whites of his eyes could be seen from a distance and weak shivers kept creeping up his aged form.

"We have been expecting you, Lady Angelina." Tanaka's voice held an odd tone but she could not ponder it long as his words hit her like a steam engine.

"We?" She whispered, afraid that she had misheard.

"Yes, the young masters have been returned to us." Again his phrasing concerned her but Angelina felt her joy nearly overwhelming her.

"By God man; why are we still waiting here? Take me to my nephews." She demanded before taking the stairs two at a time despite her heels.

"Of course, Master Ciel awaits you on the veranda." He bowed as she passed but made no move from his position at the door. She rushed across the polished floors, down two halls that her sister had redecorated just that summer and through the full span glass doors. She all but burst onto the veranda; the morning light caused her to shield her eyes but when she could see past the glare… Ciel sat at a small square table with a strange man hovering over one shoulder.

"Ciel…" She breathed, the word a prayer on her lips even as she tried to take in his condition.

"Hello, Aunt Ann," Ciel said simply before looking at her. A hand flew to her mouth in horror at the bruised and bandage covered face of her youngest nephew. He smiled palely at her before looking at the dark haired and handsome man behind him. "Sebastian, take her to my brother."

"As you wish, Young Master." The man replied with a bow.

"Ciel, what…" The Baroness plea for information was cut off by the small boy's heavy sigh.

"Aunt Ann… I have been unable to help him. We… The da…" Ciel stopped and pressed his lips in distress. Angelina wanted nothing more than to hug the child, as she would have only a month past, but the looming shadow of the unknown Sebastian seemed to place a wall between them. In a visible wave the Phantomhive drew into himself in a way that she had seen Vincent do many times. "Hadrian is in more need of your services, so if you will allow Sebastian to escort you to him."

The dismissal was clear and stung.

The tall, handsome man bowed to them both before turning into the Manor. Madam Red nodded tightly to her nephew and followed after. The estate seemed darker as she was led up and through the wings to the heir's chambers, for a split second as she stared at the double oak doors a feeling of drowning overcome her. A teaming, swirling darkness weighed down her limbs as Sebastian swung open the entrance.

The redhead's breath caught in her chest at the dank, sick smell that wafted from the room. The curtains were drawn and the only light came from the stoked fireplace leaving the shadows run rampant. She took one fleeting step... then another until so stood next to the wide bed. Hadrian did not move beneath the covers but it was clear that much damage had come to her dear nephew.

Against her better judgement Angelina reached out a hand and drew back the covers slightly only to drop them with a choked sob as she caught a brief look at the mangled blacked flesh that had been Hadrian's shoulder. The blue-black haired boy shivered despite the sweat that beaded his body and the doctor quickly laid the blanket back over the emaciated frame. She lent against bed for a moment to gather her wits before looking back at the door and the strange servant.

"I will need hot water, towels and my bag from the carriage." Angelina barked.

The raven haired man smiled sharply before leaving her alone with her injured nephew.

~0~.

Unknown

He itched.

It was an itch that sunk deep into his bones and set them alight in burning agony unlike anything but the faded memory of Basilisk venom. A burning itching pain that robbed him of thought and sense.

He shook.

He clawed the air, pulling against sandpaper ropes in an attempt to scrape the skin from his body.

He thrashed.

Teeth gnashed against a rod as he screamed foul cursing in guterial languages that seared his lungs and melted his throat.

He shivered.

His heart thundered, a skipping beat that rocked his head.

He cried.

"Weak minds will deceive themselves." Whispered the TigerLily.

"But the strongest will overcome it." Replied the Countess.

"But which are you?" Laughed the Demon.

Darkness was a blessing.

~0~

January 28, 1886

Angelina was tired, bone deep exhausted from trying to salvage her oldest nephew. The poorly cauterized amputation of his left arm, subsecuente infection and three weeks of near starvation had left Hadrian in a bad way but that was just the start of his problems. She had worked with enough of the underprivileged, dock whores and street girls, to recognize the symptoms of opium usage. Someone had been drugging the boy; the combination of fever and withdrawal had nearly finished him.

From what she managed to pry from Ciel's lips it was the third day since their escape and almost the forth since the green-eyed boy had been fed whatever cocktail their capturers had obtained. Thankfully the worst of the symptoms had started to pass but still she mopped the sweet clinging sweat from his body and poured broth past parched lips. It was a miracle that Hadrian had even made it to that moment.

The red head sighed, her fingers shaking slightly as she checked the bandages that covered the finally healing mess that was Hadrian's shoulder. A weak shudder traveled up the boy's body and after a moment Angelina realized her nephew was fairly conscious for the first time in days. His dull green eyes staring blankly at the ceiling as tears slid down hollow cheeks.

"Oh Hadrian…" She gasped, raising from her position bent over him but he didn't respond. The boy's chest jumped as his tears turned to sobs that made no sound but echoed with despair. It caused something in Angelina to shift and she reached out to gently wrap her sweet nephew into her arms. He clung to her desperately with his one arm and she could feel each of his clawed fingers digging into her back.

~0~

January 30, 1886

Hadrian felt… hollow. A cold, aching numbness that threatened to swallow him whole. His face twitched as he fought the urge to rip the flesh from his bones, not wanting to upset Aunt Ann… again. The redhead had barely left his side since he had woken leaving only when under the impression he was asleep.

How could he sleep through the insistent itch beneath his skin?

How could he sleep for fear the fire in the hearth would rage like a bonfire if he took his eyes off it for even a second?

How could he sleep when he remembered the smiling devil and the fathomless hell hidden in glowing fuschia eyes?

Hadrian shuddered and huddled deeper into smoke scented covers as the itch built in his blood, a need for the sweet poison from their dead captors gnawed his belly and ate his mind. Anything to dull the itch, to calm the guilt. Tears leaked down pale cheeks and blood slipped past white teeth as the fire burned.

~0~

January 31, 1886

Those of the Host who had fought shield to shield beside The Morning Star in the failed Liberation of Heaven had been cast into the darkest pits of the abyss. The black emptiness changed them; leeched the very Grace and Light, that which made them Angels, from their bones leaving behind only the foul, rotting hunger in what was left of them. It was the cruelest of punishments but those who survived the Fall came out the other side as something more.

And it was that Demons were born into existence.

The Raven had come from amongst the highest ranks of the Host and one of the few granted the darkness straight from Lucifer's lips. Sebastian Michaelis knew this, of course, but thankfully the veil of faux humanity dulled the edge of both his pride and the gnawing hunger enough that he found humor in the way the small creature mocked him. It was laughable that the childling baited him with every word and action yet relied on the demon so heavily for his very survival.

Left practically alone in the manor, despite others dwelling there, Ciel would be very much at his demon servant's mercy should he so choose. Tanaka, the former Head Butler, had put up somewhat of an argument at the unprecedented appointment however his injury, age and a touch of demonic malice drained the fight from the old man. Baroness Burnett fell just as easily, her delightfully fractured psyche latched almost blindly onto the most broken of her two nephews. Hadrian Phantomhive might have been more of a fight not drugged to the gills if he dared to confront Sebastian but the heir apparent had locked himself in his chambers.

Patience was a Virtue the demon no longer possessed however so it was with a sinister smile that Sebastian slipped through the door that hid the strange little soul.

~0~

January 31, 1886

Hadrian was seated upright when he heard his door opening. Thankfully, because it was most certainly not Aunt Ann who stepped inside. The green-eyed boy stared into glowing fuschia for a single moment. That was all he could stand of the abyss he found looking back. His weakness ate at the fragile hold he was keeping on his sanity.

"Truly, what a strange little thing." The demon said with a deep chuckle that echoed in Hadrian's ears.

"What do you want?" The blue-black haired boy asked. He gripped harshly onto burning shoulder and reached preemptively for the well of magic inside himself. Only for the threads of power to slip from his grasp.

"I am only here to help." The creature said with an impish smile.

"And how could you help me, beast? What great power do you possess to grant me anything?" It was Hadrian's turn to laugh.

"I could make it go away." Those fuchsia orbs gleamed in partial darkness.

"What are you speaking of?" Hadrian demanded. He could barely think above the roar beneath his skin.

"The burning, the itching… the craving." Sebastian hissed with dark amusement.

The offer was so very tempting, as any deal with a devil was, and Hadrian found that he had little defence against it. Anything to cease the burn and quiet the bitter ache for more of the sweet poison.

"Drink." The demon's smile changed, though the reincarnated child could not have told you how, and one of his mother's fine bone china tea cups appeared in Hadrian's remaining hand. A shiver of dread and a long buried sense of Gryffindor recklessness raced down the wounded boy's spine. He lifted the dark looking, sweet smelling liquid to his lips and took a deep sip.

It tasted of sweet promises and bitter reality with a hint of soured dairy. Before he even realized it the cup was empty and indeed he could feel it's former contains working upon him. Hadrian gasped, fragile china slipped from nerveless fingers to roll across the bed and shatter on the hardwood floor.

He scrambled weakly at his chest as he felt the dark essence oozing up from his belly through his veins until it touched every one of cells. The green eyed boy collapsed in restless agony as he was consumed from the inside out.

It went on for hours it seemed and it was a shock when finally it came to an end. Sweet relief brought tears to green eyes.

"It is only a temporary fix I am afraid." Sebastian stated as if it was nothing.

"Next time do not use the good china." Hadrian sobbingly laughed. Anything for the quiet beneath his skin. He licked bittersweet lips.

"As you command… my lord." The demon smiled wickedly with a full bow.