A/N: I know in the Harry Potter canon that the stories take place in the '90s but I boosted it so that the major events take place in the 2000s because I wanted a bit of a gap between Adam Young and the Boy Who Lived.

Chaptur thee Firste

Similar to three assumptions one makes when one encounters Aziraphale for the first time; one also gathers three initial impressions of Crowley too:

1) He is English.

2) He is stylish.

3) He is intelligent.

One of these is incorrect. Hell is not in England either; however, if you have seen a certain small town called Cambourne1 in the south-west of Cornwall you can be forgiven for thinking so. Anthony J. Crowley is the epitome of style, and cannot walk into a room any more without all eyes focusing on him. Style is, for most people, a skill learned only after many year's experience; and Crowley had had a large spoonful of life experience. Demonic intelligence is similar to angelic intelligence in that it is not notably higher than human intelligence but has simply had centuries of fine-tuning.

Mayfair, London, 1993

It was now three years since the Book of Revelation's predictions had failed (in the nick of time) to come to fruition.

Within three years a lot can change, and changes did indeed happen. Not all of them were good. There was one change, that both Heaven and Hell were unanimous in their praise for, and that Crowley and Aziraphale were both agreed in their hatred for, was the arrival of the Auditors of Reality.

It has often been remarked upon by many people these days that the most feared person is no longer the strong, burly, drunken thug or a mad psychopathic mass-murderer; but little weasely men and women in peaked caps, bowler hats or bun-shaped hairstyles, sensible shoes and an amount of tweed that can't be healthy, sitting in corners and armed with clipboards and the type of pen that squeaks ominously.

The Auditors are the ultimate inspectors, the highest of bureaucrats, the regulators of the universe. They have no imagination, no concept of individuality amongst themselves, and they despise humanity; because humans are messy and unpredictable, as they create an intolerably large amount of paperwork for the Auditors.2

In their default shape, the Auditors appear as empty, translucent grey robes; which is somehow more sinister and frightening than claws and pointed teeth.

When the Auditors gave up tried to rid the Discworld of humanity, they concentrated their efforts on Earth, and allied with Heaven and Hell to act as a middle-man. The Auditors were now making reports of angels and demons, filing those reports and sending the appropriate evaluations to the appropriate destination.

This made Aziraphale and Crowley's illegal friendship even more difficult, because they had no way of knowing whether there was an Auditor in the room, taking notes about them until they saw it; meaning that if Heaven learned of an angel fraternising with a demon, the God's Wrath would not be far away; and if Satan discovered that a demon had been even making friends with anyone for a reason that wasn't for entirely selfish purposes, then all Hell would undoubtedly break loose.

The Auditors do have weaknesses: they cannot withstand direct orders, they die if they feel they are becoming an individual, and they cannot sustain anything too unpredictable.

Thus, the only way for Crowley and Aziraphale to meet clandestinely these days was in Crowley's West End flat, in a specially sound-proofed room with jazz music blaring throughout the entire apartment. The Auditors would not survive a full-on attack by Louis Armstrong3.

They sat together now, sharing a bottle of wine in the tiny, broom cupboard-sized chamber. At first, they had sat in silence, merely enjoying each other's company. It had been a month since they last spoke, and although they would never admit it aloud, they had missed each other. After the Rapture that Never Was (and they had finally admitted being friends, albeit in a highly understated manner), the bonds between them had been drawn even tighter, and their friendship had evolved into brotherhood. Possibly it was something more, although neither of them ever seemed to quite go that far.

Now they were speaking (in slightly slurred tones due to the alcohol) about the missions that their Higher Ups (or in Crowley's case, Lower Downs) had set them. It turned out to be the same mission, in fact, although approaching it from differing poles.

"So...so...we had...had...I mean, have, yeah, that's it, have to go an' find this special kid an' influence him." Crowley said, staring at three Aziraphales, all of whom were swaying a little.

"Indubitdupitdupitdupitablyly," his counterpart slurred, as he gazed blearily at the demon, "We have to wasstch iver, wissth hother; erm, look out for this Parry 'Otter boy, although, although I have to make sure he turns out good." He attempted to stand, and to point an accusatory finger at Crowley, but, after failing at each attempt, slumped back against the wall. "Whereas, you 'as to, to..."

"To make him bad. Yeah." It was only when Crowley tried to pass the wine bottle back to the Aziraphale on the left, that he decided to sober up.

The angel still had enough grip remaining on himself to follow suit. After sitting still and going rigid for a few seconds as the alcohol was evaporated out of their bloodstreams, Aziraphale waved a manicured hand lazily and the remnants of the smashed bottle vanished into the ether.

"So to clarify then, we both have to make sure this Harry Potter stays neutral." the angel declared, standing up on legs that were decidedly unshaky.

"Or thereabouts," Crowley added, hissing slightly. "I was told that the family he's going to be left in is pretty much rotten so I won't have to interfere much. Hopefully." This last word was said without too much enthusiasm, coming from one who has had plenty of life experience, and knows not to expect much from his superiors when things take a turn for the not-so-peachy.

"And I hope so too. The Metatron told me that Harry is supposed to be good-natured, although if his upbringing isn't good, then who knows...?"

"Heaven knows, I reckon. And Hell too, as well, by now. Those bloody Auditors are driving me up the wall.4" he hissed again, in frustration.

Aziraphale gently laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I know, dear, I know. It is a bruise, but it should soon heal."

Demons do not like to admit defeat, but Crowley acquiesced. " Yeah, I s'pose you're right. Let's just get up to Surrey then, and deal with this. But I still don't see what's so special about this kid anyway..."

(_)

1 ZDZ: I gather that Mr L.I. Morely-Eddington had had an unfortunate experience there when he was 16. He had been simultaneously been mugged and raped (by a woman called Virginia Lestrange (ironic, isn't it?)) and incarcerated for handing out sweets to the poor all on the same day. I myself do not dislike Cambourne and shall not wish to partake in the vicious rumours circulating about that charming little town.

2 ZDZ: The Auditors have tried many times on the Discworld, to "remove" humanity. They are not allowed to simply snuff out life, because that would be against The Rules. They can influence other humans, however, (in ways such as bribery) in order to carry out their wishes. The Auditors also visited Earth once in an attempt to stop Charles Darwin from writing On the Origin of Species and slow humanity's scientific advances and slowly exterminate them (see The Science of Discworld III: Darwin's Watch for more details).

3 ZDZ: And Crowley wouldn't approach him after being walloped on the head by Mr Armstrong's trombone for reasons the demon would never divulge to anyone.

4 ZDZ: Crowley had actually accomplished this feat once, in 1937, when he was caught speeding in New York by a particularly sharp policeman. He had successfully demolished a good career and crime flourished rapidly through the neighbourhood when the underworld caught wind of a nutty copper who had hallucinations of cars driving vertically up skyscrapers.