I HEAR YOU CALLING

Disclaimer: I don't own either Harry Potter, or Kuroshitsuji nor its characters, neither do I own the segment of lyrics used. Story is mine /hoards it protectively./

Shout Out:Okay, another chapter bites the dust. Have an idea for the Among The Hawks And Doves, but I will probably be behind a scheldule a bit, because I have HP/KoF crossover to finish first. The plotdragon is particularly difficult, so I have to …. Discipline it… With biting it to death /manianical grin/. Sorry for not updating this bit sooner, but as some of you know, had trouble with logging in the accounts, so this particular chapter had been delayed from it's actual launch date for a day or two. Give kudos to my beta, MHB to her work. Thank you all for supporting us.

Warnings:AU-verse the butlers are finally on the right track, but…!

I hear you calling
Calling for me out in the night
But it's all bad
And I know that

('I Hear You Calling' by The Gob)

The world did indeed change from the time of the Queen's faithful little dog and his band of inept servants, Sebastian mused to himself thoughtfully. Humans had advanced with meteoric speed - horses and carriages were switched with those noisy, smelly things called vehicles. They may have been fast, but their noise was annoying, and don't let him even start about the smell.

Technology was another facet of the advancement - everywhere, there were phones - hand phones at that, there was something called television and internet and so many more things... There were no nobles anymore, or if they were, they hardly had the influence of their predecessors, and their names were more of a decoration than anything. The only thing that hadn't changed was that, if you had money, you were influential, no matter of how questionable the origin of your source of payment was. Humans hadn't changed much – they were still a greedy, selfish lot of animals who were ready, willing and able to sell their souls to achieve their means, be it pleasure, revenge, riches or a combination of everything.

Both he and Faustus wandered out and about aimlessly – or rather, Sebastian was following Faustus, partially because it irritated the kumoshitsuji, and partially because he didn't have anything better to do. Luckily, they didn't need to change their clothes much – some re–tailoring of their old butler uniforms into business suits, and they were ready. Because of their knowledge of human psychology, they blended into the crowd rather easily, although they did have some close encounters with model hunters. Apparently both of them were rather... exquisite and would be just perfect for posing for some magazine and whatnot. Sebastian choked back laughter at the memory of one such head-hunter hanging off the irate Faustus and practically begging him to work for her agency. The memory almost outweighed his 'Sebas-chan' incident... almost. He swallowed back a chuckle as he quietly followed his unwilling guide around. Thankfully, they managed to ditch the rabid pack some blocks back, and in such moments, Sebastian praised whoever gave him demonic abilities. If he were a human... suffice to say, he would have been mauled by the Lizzy look-alike, just that this Lizzy-copy was an adult and in love with his looks very, very much.

Sometimes it just sucked to be beautiful.

Sighing, he looked at his unwilling companion. Faustus was buying a pack of sandwiches and a coffee to go – Sebastian chuckled at the mundane meaning of that little action. It was as if they were humans, while both him and Faustus knew for a fact that as demons they didn't need food other than souls, but apparently living in the human world, Faustus had acquired some of their prey's taste buds. Besides, Sebastian mused, as he shifted slightly, leaning against the wall and cocking a head away from the afternoon sun, it was as good a cover as any. They would have gotten more attention if they didn't eat or drink something than if they consumed food and drink. Sebastian would rather have tea, but beggars can't be choosers.

From what he could discern from Faustus' behaviour, he was searching for... something. And taking the blue butler's nearly obsessive nature into account, it had to be a pretty damned important something for Faustus to search for it for so long. Humming absently, Sebastian noted Faustus coming back, carrying in one hand a plastic bag with four sandwiches and a bottle of water, and in other hand, a large cup of coffee to go, making Sebastian's lips quirk up with amusement at the sight.

It never ceased to amuse Sebastian that the ever–composed, stoic, cold ice cube of a kumoshitsuji that was Claude Faustus had a not-so-secret weakness for coffee.

London was a different city now, hustling and bustling as usual, and Sebastian's sensitive ears were assaulted with the strange mixture of sounds – noise from cars, a silent whistle from an underground rail, ethnic music playing somewhere, people's steps hurrying here and there, calls, murmurs, laughter and occasional exclamations. Everything was bigger, cleaner and ... more gray now. There weren't any muddy little alleys anymore, nor was there a stench from rotting vegetables, grease, ashes, human and animal excrements, bones, factory smoke and who knew what other dirty little things that were strewn around. The once well known places were clean now, built up from the ground and there were several different routes in comparison with the last time he had visited the human realm and Sebastian had a fit of a momentary homesickness, wishing he could return to the time when London was still dirty, uncouth and filled with carriages and nobles and secrets that just waited for someone to find them and solve them, be it for the better or worse.

Wordlessly, Faustus thrust the bag with sandwiches at him, making Sebastian nod with gratitude. Well. He had been hungry lately, meaning he would have to find a new prospective meal soon.

He fished out a sandwich, unwrapping it and biting into the bread.

Faustus' lips quirked into a tiny smirk when Sebastian grimaced. He purposefully got leek sandwiches, because he knew that was one of the foods Sebastian absolutely loathed – besides sweets, of course. Sebastian schooled his face back into a mild, neutral expression, but it was already too late.

The bastard has already seen it.

Closing his eyes, Claude inhaled the scents of their surroundings. His little revenge on Michaelis was ... satisfying, but there was still room for improvement. The scents were usual, so he averted his attention but - !

There was a scent. Another one.

And this scent... At first, it wasn't anything different from the others – blood, like any other, but there was something lying underneath the metallic taste of it.

It was dark and heady and it called to him.

Cocking his head slightly, he flicked his tongue like snake as the scent came near. It was buried under the scent of that... thuggish looking man who was not particularly intelligent, if he went out in a robe and clothes from the Victorian era or something similar. His clothes were astonishingly well preserved, or so it would seem to an inexperienced observer. But to a demon such as one Claude Faustus, they meant something entirely different.

... A wizard.

Demons were the ones who had the entrance to everywhere. They weren't particularly picky if their next victim wasa wizard or a mundane – either way, they were food, and that was it. Of course the wizards were more aware of the demons' existence and the consequences of dealing with one. However, with time, such knowledge had become obscure and obsolete, and only rare people truly knew about demons and how to deal with them. It was Forbidden knowledge, and even their famed Department of Mysteries didn't dare wade so deep as to deal with demons.

"Mm?" Michaelis hummed questioningly as he saw Claude looking at the thug like a spider would eye its next... prey.

Yellow eyes became hellish red for an instant. If Michaelis hadn't looked at him at the time, he wouldn't have seen the change. But he did, and the crow demon's interest was piqued.

Claude didn't care. The thug had something, some... interesting answers he intended to drag out of him, be it in a nice or nasty way, he didn't care.

Mellow mocha eyes widened as he too caught the whiff of that... something under the thug's scent.

"... Tasty." Michaelis purred, his dark eyebrows rising with intrigue, making Claude's eyebrows scrunch for a moment in consternation. Really, the spider butler was so... uncouth. Always going with his instincts – nay, after his pleasures. In that, he wasn't any different from those damned Shinigami bastards that were so liberally peppered around. He wanted to bury some dull knives in Michaelis' stomach right now and gouge out his entrails, but if he did right now, he would lose his mark, and the chance to get some answers about that delicious scent.

The stalking didn't take much time. It would, for any normal human, because the thug was at least clever enough to use Muggle repelling charms, but on a demon they didn't have any effect, especially on demons of such calibre as them.

The wizard was ambling lazily, before looking around and sneaking stealthily – or so he would like to think – into some disreputable alley. Looking at each other briefly, the demons knew without a word they would follow him.

And they vanished into the crowd, like they weren't there at all.

Bart Longman was a wizard. He didn't have any remarkable talents – in fact he barely scraped by in the school, but he still had a feeling of superiority over the Muggles. Even if he worked as a jailer for the temporary prison in the Ministry of Magic, he supposed he was still more valuable that any dirty, filthy Muggle, no matter how rich they were, outside here. In his honest opinion, those Muggleborns should just go back to where they came from, with their radical ideas and whatnot; they were only sullying the Wizarding world. Electry – kitty, really? The Wizarding world was way ahead of those Muggles, who had such a fancy world, but they still couldn't travel in the blink of an eye if it depended on their lives. Muggles would always be inferior to wizards, of that he was certain.

Grunting loudly, he went into a pub, ordered a shot of Firewhisky to pick himself up a little - watching the prisoners was a miserable business, and with those Dementors near, he sure as hell needed something to keep him up! Besides, Bobby once again took all his pay in one of those damn Go Fish games, the damn bastard. Bart was sure Bobby cheated somehow and someday... someday, yes, he would find out how! Well, at least that 'Good Boy' wasn't his charge anymore. The brat's wailings about him being innocent drove him bonkers, and more than once, he roughed up the brat, so that they would have a little peace.

Drinking out his fill, he lazily headed to the exit, not noticing the two men that followed him. And even if he had... it wouldn't have mattered.

The alley was dark, dank place; something no sane Muggle would look at as a possible entrance into the Wizarding world.

Hacking a cough and scratching his butt absentmindedly, he had just taken out his wand as to open the portal when he was slammed into the wall so hard he saw stars dancing in front of his eyes.

His gasp of pain was halted as he was harshly turned around to look at his captors.

All his denials that he didn't have any money or something similar died on the tip of his tongue.

Harsh yellow eyes, like those of a predator, stared at him from the delicate aristocratic face. Bart gulped. This man... was not someone he would want to make as his enemy. He was reminded of Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy – he was a year younger than the haughty Head of Malfoy family, but he still remembered the ease, elegance and ice cold feeling of control the blond leader of Slytherin exuded among his peers. This... dark haired man was the same.

A quick cursory look over the man's clothes, however, made Bart unconsciously sneer with disdain.

A Muggle. Or at least a wealthy Mudblood. No self – respecting purebred Wizard would be caught dead in such...disgraceful, revealing clothes such as these.

Bart tried to straighten himself up – he was a Slytherin and proud of it, and besides, Muggles were harmless little bastards anyway.

Shame for him, he wasn't exactly dealing with Muggles now, was he?

"I would apologize for ... detaining you," The man spoke out, his voice smooth and measured, making Bart cower back unconsciously a little, "But I believe you have some information I want."

Bart managed out as sneer. "Then it would cost you." He licked his lips slowly as the man's face remained expressionless.

"You misunderstood me. You will give me any information I want. In exchange... you will be allowed to keep your life." The man informed him matter-of-factly, making Bart gulp noisily.

Bart was a lousy Slytherin... because he was greedy and a coward. He may be stupid but he at least had some self – preservation instincts. Because of that, he didn't join the Dark Lord unlike a certain rat.

"W – Wha' do ya wanna to know?" His voice quivered a little.

The man smiled a small, tight – lipped smile, but Bart didn't even try to mistake it for a kind one.

"Whose blood is on your clothes?"

Bart blinked dumbly.

Blood...on his clothes?

"Blood? Wha' are ya talkin' bout?" He tried to bluster, only to let out a porcine squeal of pain as the manharshly punched him in his fat stomach. If he wasn't held up against the wall, Bart would have been huddled in a ball of agony on the floor. Punches to the liver usually had that kind of effect on a human, and with that unreal strength...

"It's not nice to lie, Bart... Longman, was it?" Another man purred out, making Bart's eyes open wide at the man's knowledge of his name.

This man too was clothed in a Muggle suit, and was as unearthly as his... companion, but he was smiling with amusement and his mocha colored eyes were sparkling slightly.

Bart shuddered.

"Lying is a bad habit, Bart," The mocha – eyed man cooed out, making the fat man gnash his teeth helplessly as he was reminded of Auntie Sophie. She was rail thin, had many cats, was a Hufflepuff and adored the cats. And she had an unfortunate habit of cooing at him... even if he was adult now, as if he was still a five year old snot nosed brat.

Bart hated cooing.

Loathed it.

That cattish smirk on the man's face made him squirm uncomfortably. "Be a good little boy and... Tell. The. Truth." The mocha-eyed man ordered softly, but with a hint of razor sharp steel underlying his words.

He swallowed noisily. For a pair of Muggles, the duo was scarily intimidating.

"Y-es." He admitted, piggy eyes narrowing. "Wha's tha' to ya?"

"Maybe nothing, maybe everything." The cattishly smiling man purred out. "Prison warden?"

Bart's eyes bulged out. "H – How do you know?"

Not that it was a secret, but for Muggles to find it out so easily –

A chuckle. "Elementary, my dear Longman," The man mocked him, his smile razor sharp, making Bart flinch back in the yellow-eyed man's grip.

"So... Who was the poor bastard you taught manners too... not that you have any?" The yellow-eyed man asked softly, making Bart straighten out indignantly.

"Now, see, yah here – "He began, but a sharp look from those eagle–like eyes made him meep with fear.

"Don't stall. If you do... " The man pulled out of his jacket a set of... goldenware knives? Bart blinked, before he grinned nastily. Heh. Stupid Muggle, thinking that a set of goldenware would frighten him.

TCHAK.

One of the knives was embedded into a sturdy, dirty wall as if it were butter and not a magic – enforced wall, making Bart's eyes bug out with disbelief and fear.

"I will use you as a test subject to check the sharpness of my knives." Claude finished coldly, as if it was an everyday subject as he looked the quivering bag of flesh, fat and bones with contempt.

He disregarded Michaelis' chuckle in the background. "Well?"

The man quivered. "It – It was Phobos!" He managed to get out, his piggy eyes wide with terror.

"Phobos?" Michaelis murmured out thoughtfully. "Fear? Really, who are you trying to kid?" He scoffed, and Bart felt a pit of anger bubbling in his stomach.

"Yeah, Phobos," He spat out, making Claude politely back away so that he wasn't the sole recipient of the warden's bad breath. "The right hand of Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The damned Potter brat, may he rot in Hell for what he has done!"

Claude's back stiffened.

Was it possible...?

After all those years of searching...

"Potter and...?" He spoke to the man, yellow eyes beginning to get tinged with demonic red.

"Harry fuckin' Potter! Satisfied now?" The warden spat out, but Claude dug his fingers in the man's shoulder harshly, making him squeal with pain.

"Green eyes... resident of Godric's Hollow?" He inquired further, his voice steely, making Michaelis looking at him strangely.

'Faustus is strangely obsessed with that person...' Sebastian pondered, watching the blue butler lazily. It was almost the same obsession the kumoshitsuji had with Sebastian's previous charge, one Ciel Phantomhive. And yet... it was different. It was... Sebastian couldn't describe it. More protective. Possessive. Obsessive.

"Y – Yeh." The smelly man squeaked out, trembling as he cried with pain.

"Where is he now?" Claude commanded his face intense as he stared at his little prey. The man grinned. "Ya think to save him? Ha..." Then, the man hung his head, and began chuckling in earnest.

"Hahaha... Hehehe..." The chuckles evolved into a crazed laughter. "Ya're too late! Hehehe – HAHAHAHA!"

"Where is he?" Claude hissed out, impatient. But the man was still laughing, so he swiftly pierced his shoulder with a knife, making him howl with pain.

"Hehe... "The man chuckled, his eyes glinting crazily. "Ya will never get'im outta Azkaban. They chucked him into the deepest, darkest little hole they could find an' even if they wanted to get 'im outta here, nobody would know how!" He grinned nastily. " 'E deserved it, fer torturin' 'is relatives."

Claude's eyes were hidden behind the glasses. "Is that so?" He murmured lowly, thin lips spreading into the smirk. "I suppose I should thank the one who drove him to it, then."

Bart watched the smirking man with confusion. "Wha? Ya dinna mean ta save him?" he asked, perplexed at the butler's satisfaction. The yellow eyed butler lifted his head, and Bart's blood chilled at the man's expression.

Those yellow eyes were now hellishly red, and the teeth that were previously human, were now molded into a jagged shape, the signature of many carnivores. "No. In fact, he will become a fine meal."

Bart's eyes bulged out with shock before he felt an intense pain and then... nothing.

Sebastian watched as Faustus simply crushed the man's neck indifferently. Nobody would miss the man... and his death was quick.

"Really, your next meal?" He asked, intrigued. Yellow eyes tinged with red glared at him as Faustus cocked his head and returnedhis face to its implacable mask.

Sebastian smiled. "Mind if I tag along?"

Faustus coughed politely as he licked the excess blood off of his hand. And then, he froze. Partially reddish yellow eyes turned into deep, dark crimson that stopped Sebastian in his tracks. Faustus tilted his head upward, as if listening for something, looking wilder than any time Sebastian had seen him – even when he had accidentally sampled some of Ciel's blood. It was the pose of a predator listening to the wounded cries of a particularly tasty prey.

Then, Faustus grinned. It was a thin, unpleasant grin – the grin of a carnivore preparing for a hunt.

"I hear him." He whispered, so lowly Sebastian almost missed it, but he wasn't one hell of a butler for nothing.

"He's calling me."

/To Be Continued/