First Chapter! As with most of my stories now, when I have the next chapter done, I'll update them on that day.

TheBlackSeaReaper: You find out in this chapter... and thank you for being the first to review.

Avampiress: Thanks! I like the last line too.

Follow their example and review please.

Love, Keta.

Chapter 1: The Nameless Hollow

Sing to me songs of the darkness

Farewell to heaven, my friend

Come to me, bury your sorrow

Temptation await the condemned

(Poltergeist by Zatox Feat. Nikkita)

Ulquiorra's POV

Keta takes my hand and swings it back and forth. Suddenly, my sister stops, sniffing the air. "What is wrong?" I ask.

"There's a hollow out here." She lets go of me, running away.

"Keta!"

The dragon hollow stops halfway into the human park and kneels over something; on closer inspection, I find that it's a completely white hollow with the exception of its black feathered wings. "U'ra," she whispers, "we have to take him back with us."

"Why?"

"He feels like you. He's a child."

"What?"

"He is. Probably younger than you."

At the sound of our voices it, or rather he, lets out a chirping sound, turning around to look at us. A long gaping wound in his right arm, it doesn't seem to ve bleeding though. "Keta."

"Yes?"

"Change him."

"I am." While she lays her small hands on his throat, or where it would be if he were human, I busy myself with conjuring a cloak and calling Souske. We'd never get the hollow in to Seireitei without his help. "Ulquiorra, I need that cloak." I toss it behind me, not wanting to turn around and accidentally seeing something I shouldn't. "You can turn around now." I do so slowly not trusting my older sister. The hollow, now arrancar, has chaotic black hair and pale skin, but not sickly looking. He's thin like an abused and neglected child would be, and he's marred by various scars of unknown origin. A scar in the shape of a lightning bolt stands out on his forehead, emitting a dark aura, evil and menacing. Like Keta's spiritual pressure. His eyes however are what capture my attention the most. They're a luminescent green, a few shades lighter than mine, and they spark in the sun. Power, addictively strong, swirls behind them like a pent up hurricane.

When Gin and Souske arrive, I know immediately it's them. I'd know them anywhere. Souske puts a hand on my shoulder before nodding to Gin who picks the boy up. His eyes never leave my sister and me and within them, I see trust, but also fear.

Keta's POV

I stare down at the little one lying on my Kitzan, Souske's, bed. His eyes are closed, yet not tight and a smile lies on his face. Sighing, he opens up those green eyes slowly and looks up at me. "Hello," I whisper.

"Hello."

"I'm Keta. Do you mind if I call my Kitzan and brother in here?"

"No," he whispers back. Then he gets a curious look. "What's a Kitzan?"

"Adoptive father. He took in U'ra and me." With a pat to his hand, I shout at my family, "he's awake!" Ulquiorra runs into the room, excited but not showing it. Kitzan walks in slowly and gives the boy a soft smile.

"Hello, little one. I'm Souske Aizen…"

"I'm Ulquiorra!"

I giggle as Kitzan shakes his head. "What's your name?" he asks.

"I was Harry Potter…"

"Not anymore?" I ask.

"No. I don't want to be connected with him. I'm no longer the child that couldn't protect himself from a stupid muggle!"

"Muggle?"

"Non-magical humans." A tear drips from his right eye and he turns away to whip at them. That's when I see the remnant of his hollow mask. It's a lightning bolt earing, normally hidden by his shaggy locks.

"So, who are you now?"

"I don't know," he says, despairingly.

I lean in close to him and take his hand. "Would you like a family?" He nods. "Would you like to be our family?"

"Yes."

I pull back. "Harriel Murcielago. That's your name now. Harriel Murcielago, You're our brother now."

The body of Ginevra Weasley was found in Hogwarts late last night. The cause of death is unknown but authorities believe it was cause by Harry Potter, who went missing the same night. The Minister has ruled that Mr. Potter is of the upmost importance to find. A trial of course is to be issued but many believe he is guilty.

Albus Dumbledore looks down at the paper with a smirk on his face. Only he and Voldemort know what really happened in the chamber that night. Well, Harry too of course but he's dead. At least he took the blame.

Across the country, Tom Riddle and Voldemort, now combined in one body and sane, sit reading the same exact paper, sadness being his dominant emotion. His hand rests on the diary where he and Harry had amazing conversations and found they had more in common then they thought. "Oh, Harry," he whispers, "why'd you have to die?"