A/N: In response to your reviews:

3Alaska3, and RoxyStar05- Thank you! Unfortunately there were some technological difficulties so the robot didn't climb very high, but the experience of it all was priceless.

PoisonousDemon- Allen knows just about as much as the readers do, and with each flashback, Allen learns about his past at the same time that the readers do. So yes, Allen does know that he was a student at Hogwarts

To everyone who reviewed- Thank you for your reviews and I hope that you enjoy the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for this FanFiction. Harry Potter and D. Gray-Man are owned by J.K. Rowling and Katsura Hoshino respectively. This FanFiction was written for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter Five: The Weighing of the Wands

To help us with protecting the students from akuma, and searching for innocence, Professor Dumbledore assigned each of my fellow exorcists and I a schedule. Since Lenalee and I shared all of Harry's classes, I was able to see how he was treated by both his peers, and his teachers.

I was surprised at the differing behaviors, but one thing was constant- they all believed that Harry had placed his name in the Goblet of Fire.

While the Hufflepuffs simply ignored Harry, the Slytherins were openly insulting to the triwizard champion- an obnoxious blond haired boy seemed to be the ringleader of the bunch.

Before the Care of Magical Creatures lesson, the blond haired teen taunted Harry with comments mentioning autographs and how he wouldn't survive the Triwizard Tournament. I immediately glared at the boy and straightened my posture, trying to think of the most political thing to say in the current situation.

Weren't they supposed to be comrades? Weren't they supposed to support each other? It had become apparent as to how a prisoner could have escaped their wizard prison, and managed to stay out- their society was riveted with petty rivalries.

Professor Hagrid started the class before the teen could continue- keeping the boy too busy to continue his bullying.

oOo

It was before double potions when the blond haired teen, whose name I later learned to be Malfoy, had pushed his bullying too far.

I was waiting outside of the classroom with the other students, when both Harry and Malfoy drew their wands. Instinctually, I reacted by jumping in-between the two wands- blocking the spells that were casted with my left arm. I didn't know how my innocence would react to offensive magic, so I could only watch in masked wonder as Crown Clown absorbed the energy from the spells, and filled the dimly lit corridor with an intense, silver-green light. After a moment, the light had subsided- revealing my arm to be covered as thoroughly as always, and when I flexed it a little, it moved just as it always had.

When I looked around the hall though, it was apparent that the students weren't as calm as I was. Their expressions ranged from wide-eyed shock to calculative gazes, but curiosity was a feeling that was shared by all of us- although I wasn't going to let anyone know that I felt that way as well. I nervously glanced towards Lenalee, and was greeted by the sight of her silently fuming. I knew that she was probably going to reprimand me for acting like a martyr again.

Suddenly, a cold voice snared throughout the corridor- sending shivers down my spine; it was the voice of a man who had killed in cold blood and wouldn't hesitate to do so again. "Well what do we have here?"

I pivoted on my heel to face a tall, thin man with chin-length, greasy black hair. His pale skin seemed to cling onto his bones like a leech, and his dark eyes were lit with frozen flames- without of any trace warmth. His pursed lips were thin, and were set in a scowl. He was dressed in clothing as dark as his hair, and a long cloak flowed down to the middle of his calves, separated at the bottom like a tailcoat. His long, bony fingers were clasped together over the middle of his torso, suggesting that he was in an especially foul mood.

"You are one of the exchange students, correct?" The man glared down at me as if I were vermin.

"Yes sir, I am supposed to audit your class, and my name is Allen Walker. I am incredibly sorry for the disruption, it will never happen again." Deciding to execute proper manners, I bowed before him. I knew that I was taking the blame for something I never did, but I also knew that Harry was already going through a tough enough time.

Ever since Ron had started to ignore Harry, I had stepped up into the role of a supportive friend for the raven-haired teenager. While we might have "come from different walks of life" so to speak, we were both competing in the Triwizard Tournament. Despite my support though, I knew that I could never replace Ron- it was just a simple matter of trust, or lack thereof.

The man before me had cut through my thoughts with his blade like voice. "Stand up straight, and look at me in the eye, Walker."

I quickly obeyed the man, disturbingly reminded of Master Cross.

As soon as we made eye contact, I was taken back to the incident that had occurred only moments before, although I had the odd feeling that someone was in my mind. A word popped into my thoughts- dragging me into another memory, although this one had occurred several years prior.

Legimency.

(Flashback...)

The windows outside of the Hogwarts library were dark as night had settled in. Young Allen, though, seemed to be unaware as he flipped through the thick tome before him- jotting down notes into his notebook as always. The librarian, whom the boy had discovered to be called Madam Prince, watched the first year in a fascinated awe.

In all of her years as the librarian for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she had never heard of, or encountered such a precocious child, and she always found herself wondering as to why the young boy wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw. Gryffindors weren't known for their intellect, but this young boy had the best grades in his year, and while she wasn't very fond of gambling, she was willing to bet that he had the best grades in the entire school.

A small yawn emanated from the brunette's direction, snapping her out of her thoughts. Deciding to prompt the young boy to head off towards his dorm, she strode up behind him- briefly eyeing the page that he was on.

After watching this first year practically read through almost her entire supply of NEWT level books, she found herself slightly surprised that the boy was reading about occlumency- a branch of magic that was said to be one of the most difficult to understand, and was used as protection against legimency.

"Excuse me," Even though she had made sure to speak quietly as to not startle the boy, he still jumped in his seat before turning to her- his silver eyes gazed up into her own, and seemed to be glazed over with fatigue. "I think that maybe you should head off to bed soon. I'm sure that reading would be more enjoyable for you if you were well rested. It will be Saturday tomorrow, so you won't have to worry about classes either..." She trailed off, knowing the young boy would understand what she was implying.

He nodded, "Alright, I just want to finish writing down these notes, and then I will head up to my dorm. Thank you!" The boy then turned back to his notes, while Madam Prince strode back to her desk to finish things up for the night.

(Flashback End...)

Remembering what I had read that night, I forced myself into the present and drained my mind of all thoughts and emotions. In an instant, the presence retreated, allowing me to collect my thoughts.

For a brief second, I thought that I could see shock in the man's eyes before they regained their cold flames of indifference.

"I would like to speak with you after class Mr. Walker." With a sweep of his cloak, the man strode into the classroom at the end of the corridor.

Before I entered the classroom, I glanced around the corridor once more, thinking about the flashback that I just had.

oOo

Potions was easier than I had thought- no wonder Komui always made so many concoctions with what seemed to be little or no difficulty. Actually, it reminded me of cooking in a way- and surprisingly, Jeryy's late-night cooking lessons helped me with the precision required for the subject.

It was in the middle of class when a small, blonde-haired boy sheepishly knocked on the door, and entered the classroom. When he walked up to the potions professor's desk, the man glared down at the boy.

"Yes?"

"Please sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter, and Allen Walker upstairs."

At the boy's statement, I could hear the change in the professor's tone from curt, to being laced with venom.

"My students have another hour of potions to complete, they will both go upstairs when this class is finished."

The boy blushed from what I presumed to be a combination of embarrassment, and nervousness.

"Sir, Mr. Bagman wants them. All of the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs..."

"Very well," The potions professor replied in a irritable manner, "Potter, Walker, leave your things here. I want both of you down here later for getting materials that will be missed in class today."

"Please sir- they have to take their belongings with them. All the champions-"

"Very well!" The professor's tone seemed to be even more irritated than before. "Potter, Walker- take your bags with you, and leave my classroom!"

As the boy escorted us, it seemed like he had wanted to speak with Harry, but in an effort to not be rude to me, he kept to himself with an exception of a softly spoken "Good luck!" addressed to both of us. The boy then quickly rushed back to where I assumed his class to be, leaving Harry and I at the door of what seemed to be an unused classroom.

Just as Harry was about to open the door, he hesitated. Sensing his unease, I placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry- if you feel too uncomfortable to continue, I might know of a method that might settle your nerves. If you'd like, I could teach it to you." I waited for Harry's response, receiving a small nod before I continued.

"In a way, this is sort of like a form of self-hypnotism. First, I would like you to inhale deeply- and gather your thoughts on what you think is concerning you," Harry glanced at me skeptically before inhaling, as I had said. "Then, as you exhale, imagine all of your troubles flowing out of your body- leaving yourself free from concern." As Harry exhaled, he appeared to have relaxed considerably.

"Thanks Allen, I feel better already! I have a question though," Harry turned towards me as he spoke. "How can you read me like a book? It's like you can read my mind..."

I gazed into Harry's eyes for a second before I replied. I noted the naïveté in his eyes- to a normal person, he seemed to be experienced in life's trials, but compared to an exorcist, he didn't know anything. I envied him. As much as I loved Mana and tried to cope with people's discrimination, I sometimes wished that I could live a relatively normal life, I wished that people would accept me for who I was, I wished that I didn't live in such a twisted world. Was that the reason as to why the Noah want to destroy humanity?

"I've had practice- well that and the fact that I have experienced a life similar to yours." I didn't mention that I had probably experienced more.

Harry glanced at me skeptically, but he didn't press the topic further- seemingly as if he could sense that my past was not something I would talk about with a person that I barely knew. Thinking about it, I realized that I hadn't even really told anyone at the Black Order about my past. Komui had stated that he saw Timcanpy's memories, but I hadn't known specifically of what he had seen; I had never asked.

When Harry opened the door and entered the classroom, I followed behind him while taking in the scene before me.

As I walked into the room, I noticed that the champions were minding their own business while the adults spoke amongst themselves. Viktor Krum seemed to stand in a corner, methodically watching the events unfold in front of him; in another area, Fleur was flirting with Cedric, although it seemed as if the Hogwarts champion was oblivious to that fact. Mr. Bagman was seated in one of the five wooden chairs that were placed behind a few velvet-covered desks that were end to end in the front of the room, speaking with a woman who struck me to be someone that loved to ruin anyone's reputation.

Her short, straw-colored hair was set in rigid curls, and her skin was as pale as parchment. Her eyes were black beetles, framed by an obnoxiously red pair of glasses that were inset with fake gems. Her thin lips were as red as blood, probably because of cosmetics or magic. She had a rather short frame, covered in magenta robes. Her thick, stubby fingers were extended by long red nails that reminded me of claws- bathed in the blood of a predator's prey.

At the sound of the door closing, her eyes flashed towards Harry, and I- fixing her gaze on the emerald-eyed youth. Noticing where the blonde was now looking, Mr. Bagman jumped to his feet, and bounded towards us.

"Ah, there they are! The forth and fifth champions! In you come; in you come... nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony; the rest of the judges will be here in a moment-"

I curiously eyed Mr. Bagman- wondering what he meant by a wand weighing ceremony, but I never made a motion to ask. I assumed that I could figure out if there was any threat by simple observation.

Harry didn't seem to have the same thought process though, repeating the term "Wand weighing" in a questioning tone that had the faintest trace of nervousness.

Mr. Bagman replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead. The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. Afterwords, there will be a photo shoot. This lady," He stated as he gestured towards the magenta robed woman, "is Rita Skeeter, and she will be doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet..."

"Maybe not that small, Ludo," I almost jumped at the sound of her voice, instantly reminded of Road because of the sadistic notes in her schoolgirl-like voice. "I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?" She directed her question to Mr. Bagman.

"Certainly!" The man had cried out before catching his mistake, "That is- if Harry has no objection?"

Harry hesitated before replying, so I quickly jumped in- sensing his unease. Trying to be polite though, I made sure to sound gentle while adding a sharp tone directed towards Miss Skeeter. "I have an objection. The tournament is about everyone participating in it, as a spectator, a judge, or a champion. If only one person is focused on in an article that is supposed to be about everyone, then it would make the author, and the subject look like idiots. Obviously, unless you are as dense as a block of wood, you would notice that Harry doesn't like the attention that he gets for doing something that anyone else could have done just as easily as himself."

At the sound of my voice, the other champions appeared to pay attention to what I was saying, although they only watched. It was obvious that Harry had agreed to what I had stated though, his eyes flashing with gratitude, and a silent 'thank you.'

One look at Miss Skeeter though told me that I was probably going to be blackmailed because of this.

Her eyes were narrowed in a silent murderous rage, and her hands were balled into clenched fists.

In return, I simply nodded- keeping the small smile that I used for poker intact. I really didn't care about what lies she would come up with next, I was already scrutinized by the public anyway because of my odd appearance. Nothing that she could say would really change that.

Before anything else could transpire, Dumbledore entered the classroom along with the other judges- Mr. Ollivander was at the end of the procession, as if he was trying to not draw any attention to himself. As all of the judges, except for Dumbledore, took their seats along the velvet lined desks, Mr. Ollivander stood by a window, watching the champions as they made their way to the seats.

Dumbledore turned to address the champions.

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander? He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

Mr. Ollivander moved from his secluded window, and gingerly stepped into an empty space in the middle of the room.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?"

The girl gracefully made her way to the wizened wand maker and handed him her wand.

Carefully, he twirled the wand in his fingers, and as he did so, several pink, and gold sparks flew from the tip.

He held the wand up, close to his eyes as he examined it.

"Yes," His quiet voice managed to somehow carry through the rather large classroom, "nine and a half inches... Inflexible... Rosewood... And containing..." He paused for a second, his eyes squinting before widening considerably, "Dear me..."

Fleur flicked her hair to the side in an annoyed way, before she spoke for the wand maker.

"A hair from the head of a veela; one of my grandmother's."

"Yes," Mr. Ollivander continued as if he had spoken Fleur's words instead, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find that it makes for rather temperamental wands... However, to each his own, and if this suits you..."

He ran his fingers down the wand, seemingly to check for scratches or bumps before he muttered "Orchideous!" And a bouquet of flowers bursted from the wand tip.

I refrained myself from rolling my eyes. How stereotypical. I mildly wondered if the wand maker would try pulling a rabbit out of a hat next.

"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," Mr. Ollivander spoke as he handed the flowers to Fleur, along with her wand. "Mr. Diggory, you next."

The Beuxbatons champion practically waltzed back to her seat, flash Cedric a smile as they passed eachother.

"Ah, now this is one of mine, isn't it?" Mr. Ollivander's voice was filled with enthusiasm as he was handed Cedric's wand. "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn... Must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches... Ash... Pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition... You treat it regularly?"

Cedric grinned, "Polished it last night,"

Flashes of gold sparks filled my peripheral vision, and when I glanced over to their source, I realized that Harry had been trying to quickly polish his wand with his robes. By the patronizing look that Fleur was giving him, and the twinkle of amusement in Dumbledore's soul-searching gaze, I noted that I wasn't the only one who noticed what seemed to be a fruitless attempt at polishing his wand.

It seemed that Harry had noticed at least's Fleur's expression, with a quick look up, he ceased his attempt, and watched silently as Mr. Ollivander conjured silver smoke rings before passing Cedric's wand as being satisfactory.

Krum's wand was apparently crafted from hornbeam with a core of dragon heartstring, and was uncommonly thick. With a mutter of "Avis!" Mr. Ollivander cleared the wand to be sufficient as well.

As Mr. Ollivander handed Krum's wand back to its owner, he turned to Harry.

Harry's wand was examined longer than anyone else before him, with Mr. Ollivander being finally satisfied when he shot a fountain of wine from the tip, claiming that it was still in perfect condition- handing the wand back to its owner.

"Mr. Walker, may I see your wand please?" I handed my wand to the older man, and he examined it almost as long as Harry's, if not longer.

I fiddled with the hem of my robe, as I anxiously waited for Mr. Ollivander to declare my wand to be satisfactory as well. As I did so, I wondered if Mr. Ollivander would tell them about my wand having two cores, and if he did, would they disqualify me- deeming that I had an unfair advantage?

"This is another one of my wands- made from pine, and phoenix feather. It's a little thin for a length of 13 inches, but it is also surprisingly supple." He then muttered an "Expecto Patronum!" under his breath.

I found it difficult to restrain a small smile as a silver owl sprung from the tip of my wand- it was Mr. Ollivander's way of assuring that everything was going to be fine, and that no one would find out about my situation because of him. I could have sworn that I saw him wink as he handed my wand back after claiming that it was satisfactory.

The rest of the time was spent taking pictures, although Miss Skeeter did seem to be sulking in the corner of the room- her dark eyes flashing from one potential slander victim to the next, although they seemed to be focusing more on Harry, and I rather than anyone else.

With a final dismissal, we were then sent to the great hall for dinner, but I stole away- back to the potions classroom.

The potions professor did remind me of a cold-blooded murderer, but classes were still going to be in session for a few minutes longer, and he did ask me to see him after class. Thus, I made my way as I began my trek to the dungeons.

oOo

I quietly knocked on the classroom door. Class had been just dismissed, but in everyone's haste to leave, only the potions professor had remained in the classroom.

"You wanted to see me sir?" The professor turned to face me, and for a second, a look of surprise seemed to flash across his face before resuming a neutral expression.

"Yes," He paused for a second, walking up to me as he did so. "Does the term oculemency mean anything to you?"

I hesitantly nodded. "Yes sir, I have read about it, but to my knowledge, I've only used it in a practical way just before class."

The professor nodded in acknowledgement before asking something that had been on my mind ever since the first flashback.

"Why do you have a memory of being in the Hogwarts library in your first year if you are a student of Rosa Crux Academy?"

As I was trying to come up with a believable story to tell the potions master, he seemed to read my mind.

"Don't even think about lying, Walker. I can distinguish truth from lies."

I fought back another shiver. Did he just use legimency again? He was right though- lying was not the preferable choice in this situation. I decided to tell him the truth without disclosing anything about akuma, or the Black Order. I wasn't aware if Dumbledore had told any teachers of the Black Order's involvement, but I wasn't about to blow our cover.

"I don't know sir. For at least the first half of my first year, I was a student here, but I do not recall as to how I am no longer in that position. I believe my loss of memory may be contributed to a combination of an obliviate charm, and a false memory charm, although it is just a theory."

"I see; and may I ask as to how you blocked an exchange of curses earlier without being effected by them?"

I internally cringed. Now I had no other explanation than the fact that my innocence had absorbed the energy from the hexes before expelling it through an explosion of light energy, but I couldn't say that without revealing the fact that I was an exorcist.

"I don't know sir."

"Your lying to me Walker, and we both know it. I am also aware that there is no such thing as Rosa Crux Academy- it is just a facade for your little exorcist organization." I tried to fake ignorance, but the potions master must have caught the fleeting questioning in my eyes that had been quickly masked with a look of innocence- adding to what he had already stated, "Dumbledore had already informed me of the situation. I was testing you to see if you would reveal your group's true intensions if you were questioned. There are wizards who doubt the existence of Rosa Crux Academy, and will question anyone until they figure out the truth."

He glared at me with disdain, before continuing after a moment's hesitation. "Most wizards cannot use legimency, and as far as they are concerned, you would be believable. For those who can, it was obvious that you were lying. For the sake of being able to keep up your cover, you and your comrades must be able to perform oculemency while lying. You are dismissed."

I quickly exited the classroom without further ado, concerning myself with what the man had stated.

In a bit of black humor, I realized that I still did not know his name, and he already knew mine- I guessed that I would just have to ask someone later, more specifically a certain trio of Griffindors.

A/N: This chapter basically covered the time from when the champions were chosen to the weighing of the wands, and the next one should cover at least up to the first task. I have already written the scene where Allen faces the first task... Just not anything else up to that point. I cannot wait to upload that chapter since it would be the first action scene that I have written.

Thank you for reading this chapter, and please review!