HEARING HEAVEN

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) – they belong to their respective owners. But I do own the idea for this story and the story.

Summary: He was tortured by the Dark side. The Light side betrayed him. Now he's back, but not alone. Watch out, Wizarding World, because two butlers from Hell are pissed. This is SLASH, don't like, don't read!

Shout Out: Holy...! /yelp out/ It's that time of the year already? Right, don't mind little ole me. /sheepish nod/ I am serving you a new chapter and I apologize for tardiness - from my side it was a difficult little plotdragon to write, and from my beta, she had her midterms. So, sorry, but rest assured, the next chapter is already in the works. And oh yeah, next chapter Among The Hawks And Doves will be put out soon, imma just having fun torturin' my little Akito/Harry a little to much to let him go... yet. /devilish grin/

Warnings: Harry in a coma and his thoughts. Oh, and butlers are here, too...

I am so high I can hear heaven

I am so high I can hear heaven

Oh, but heaven –

No, heaven don't hear me

("Hero" by Nickelback)

He was floating somewhere. It was a strange feeling, just… floating like some kind of tethered balloon; only, he wasn't a balloon and he didn't see or feel the tether he was chained to.

It was the kind of weightlessness people yearned to experience in their waking hours and instead only got a small taste of it - if ever - in their dreams.

Was he dreaming? He tried to blink, but how could he even do that when he didn't have eyelids to begin with?

And that led him to the next question. Or feeling. Or un-feeling in that case.

There was no darkness or light. He didn't know how he knew that, and after a short musing about how he knew he didn't know how he knew, he gave up. It was a pointless exercise that, if pursued further, would only serve to get his mind into a tailspin without any solution in sight.

So. Here he was, feeling kind of blob-like, and blessedly without pain. When it had been the last time he could honestly say that? Last year? Or month? Last minute? Wait; was the time even relevanthere?

His thoughts moves sluggishly slow; it was as if his mind was both extremely fuzzy and incredibly clear. He frowned - or tried to give an impression of frowning - as he attempted to solve this riddle. Somehow the… riddle… word made him… Annoyed? Irritated? He disliked the word, but it was just a word, wasn't it?

The feeling of dislike persisted, like a particularly stubborn patch of a tar on his skin.

Fine. Enigma, then. He would have rolled his eyes up with exasperation with himself if he had them.

"Harry….Prongslet…"

Voices. Echoes. Someone calling? Calling whom? Him? He spun around as to locate those irritating sounds. They were so familiar….

A bark of laughter.

"James!" The female voice admonished the laughing…. Person? "That wasn't funny!"

"Aw, come on, Lils!" The man whose voice he heard first, cajoled the annoyed female. "Don't be such a sourpuss - leave that to the ol' Minnie - "

"James Hadrian Potter!" The woman's voice thundered, making the listener twitch. "Harry will NOT be a prankster, you hear me!"

He blinked. Harry? Like… him? Something cleared in the fuzzy place that was supposed to be his brain.

Harry. Yes. His name. But…. He had another name, too?

Frowning, he searched for the source of those voices, tentatively moving forward.

"Aw, Lilypads, the Marauders gotta have a legacy – "

There! The voices….He moved, his not-ears straining to catch the further conversation between the couple.

"Hello?" He asked. "Mind telling me what are you two talking about?"

"Hell, no, mister!" The woman - Harry saw a flash of red in his memory, red with green eyes – said firmly, making the man whine. "Harry James Potter will NOT follow your fiendish ways of prankster glory, and if he does, you can kiss your babymakers goodbye!"

"Lily Marie Evans!" The man gasped out, horrified. "You wouldn't!"

Lily. Harry blinked. Her name was Lily. Just like his mum's.

"I sowould, Mister Prongs Senior." The woman sniffed mock-disdainfully. "One if you is enough to tilt the world on the side; but two, I doubt the universe would survive."

Prongs. A stag. A protector. Silver light petering out, and then nightmares -

Harry jerked away, as if burned, but it was too late.

One memory-pebble caused an avalanche of the rest, descending down into his mind, firing the synapses of his brain with white-hot intensity –

"No! Not Harry! Not My baby!"

"Step aside, little girl –"

"Basilisk- the monster - it's Basilisk – "

-A flash of red eyes, cruel, merciless and high-pitched female laughter –

- The presence of not-being, so like the Imperius Curse, but much more freeing, so detached, so cold –

"He is a monster. I've always knew it. And him knowing Parseltongue- it's a sign of a monster."

-Darkness. Coldness. Hollowness.

"Fourth champion….. Harry Potter."

" 'Oo eez that leetle boy?"

-The wind was whipping around him, and he was free and wild and he wished for the moment to stretch into infinity –

-A small redheaded girl blushed as she unintentionally put her elbow into a dish of butter, squeaking with embarrassment when she noticed her faux pas –

"GET UP! GET UP, YOU LAZY, NO GOOD FREAK!"

-The pain seared across his back, licking his skin and flesh and multiplying as he was struck once again–

-The feeling of soft white feathers as Hedwig nuzzled him in an attempt to make him better –

"Harry Potter. Our newest…. Celebrity." A sardonic voice spoke to him, with an undercurrent of hate and yearning hidden within its tones.

-The howl that curdled his blood and made him flee for his life.

-Big, golden, predator eyes staring into his own green ones with an intensity that was unnatural –

- The feeling of sitting on the Centaur's back, cold air whistling around them as they trotted through the forest –

-Something within him splintering, twisting, turning and shoving him backward, green eyes, the same as his own shining with bloodthirsty glee and madness –

The feelings, impressions, memories, all swirled into one, faster and faster, until it practically drilled through his brain like a white-hot ice pick that was at the same time freezing cold, making him convulse in the confused heap of agony and being –

"Mother! Father! Anyone!"

The laughter tinkled around him, like the crystal shards in their rainbow splendor, and there was a lullaby in the background, like a mocking counterpoint to his suffering.

"Please! HELP ME!"

Prongslet. Bambi. Cub. Filth. Freak. Betrayer.

The pain slowly washed away, and he felt as if it welded on him the weight of the world with the chains of lead in some sort of an invisible armor, giving something unwanted, and taking away something… he wasn't sure what, but he still had a sinking feeling he would miss it terribly.

He had heard Heaven….alas, Heaven hadn't heard him.

And with that last thought, his last sight was of two pairs of glowing demonic eyes.

Two weeks passed since they had rescued their newest Master. Two dreary weeks, filled with duties - Claude had inspected the other properties, and to his relief, there were no further surprises of the witching variety hidden within, even if he had to bear with Sistina's grumbling and bitching around. Even if she was the current owner of the Trancy properties, Claude smoothly overlooked the fact, because in his mind, the only rightful owner was Alois Trancy.

Meanwhile, Sebastian hadn't been complacent either - he had unearthed the old deeds and contracts of the Phantomhive family for their perusal. The funny thing was, the Phantomhive name had sunk into obscurity when Elizabeth married another man after Ciel's death and took his surname in an effort to escape the apparent curse of the Queen's Dogs. Phantomhives were famous - or better, infamous enough to be recognized both in high society and the lowest, dirtiest and ugliest echelons of the underworld, but with some… persuasion, even such infamy could be forgotten and discarded into obscurity.

Both of the butlers had been switching the duties of tending to their Master between them, much to their disgruntlement. At first, Claude insisted to be the only one to take care of the young Master, but then, Michaelis, the damned bastard he was just had to call upon the 'you-so-owe-me-your-ass-for-your-stunt' clause, and Claude had disgruntledly agreed to share the duties.

They tended to the teen diligently, taking care of his wounds and changing his bed sheets, along with Sistina's potions being injected into him at regular intervals. The boy slept through all of it like a log, with short periods of wakefulness, but he wasn't conscious at all through them, even if him having been awake at all was taken as a small step to the overall recovery.

Claude narrowed his eyes as he listened to his ward's belabored breath. It didn't happen often, but when it did… it wasn't pretty. The room was in a half-darkness as the evening was slowly fading into the night, the green and white sheets of the bed making their occupant seem even paler than usual.

Dark eyes furrowing, Claude put his hand on the youth's forehead, and true enough, it was wet with sweat and unusually warm.

"Fever. Again." Claude sighed as he gently slid the palm down to cradle the youth's face. "You truly are a bundle of trouble, Young Master," He grumbled at his comatose charge. The boy didn't answer, but the spider butler didn't expect him to. At least his scent was marginally better than the acrid mess of before - the wounds were healing admirably when they were cleaned out and the bones reset in their correct positions, but Claude suspected that Harry would always smell of blood, even when healed. The scent was just too ingrained into him now, cloyingly sweet and bitter at the same time, something unique only to him.

He straightened up, turning away and reaching for the basin of cold water and an appropriate towel. Elegant hands dipped the towel into the basin, letting it soak for a while, before lifting it up and gently wringing the excess moisture out of the cloth. Then, it was folded and gently placed on the boy's forehead.

The boy gasped soundlessly as he unconsciously tried to evade the cold, his nose scrunching a little in discontentment. The eyes behind the eyelids were moving fast, and by the stiffening of the boy's body, he was in considerable stress.

"Any news, Faustus?" Golden eyes narrowed at the voice of the intruder, as Faustus glanced at kuroshitsuji for a moment, before turning his attention back to the object of his scrutiny. "He seemed to be better, but this last nightmare…" Claude sighed, shaking his head. "It's no good for him." The boy started trembling, making Claude sit on the bed beside him. "It's the worst one until now."

Sebastian paused for a moment before hurriedly approaching the bed, sitting on the boy's other side. Dark mocha colored eyes narrowed as he perused the state of his newest Master. "Maybe we could call for Sistina to get him another potion –" He suggested, before shaking his head at his own stupidity. "Sorry. Forgot that he's almost overdosed with them as it is." Slender dark eyebrows scrunched with irritation. "We'll just have to weather this one out."

The boy on the bed jerked as if fighting something, his lips moving but no sound coming out, but both demonic butlers knew how to read lips. Their bodies tensed as unease swept through them as they felt the contract burning on their hands, the heat escalating as the moments trickled by, from being merely an uncomfortable itch to a gnawing, restless pain.

Faustus hissed at the sensation, golden eyes slowly bleeding into demonic crimson. Then, the boy jerked, and the scent of blood wafted through the air, making the two butlers emit tiny growls, not that they would admit to the fact.

Sebastian reached forward, touching a frail wrist, while inwardly, he was fighting off an impulse to sink his teeth into that pale flesh enjoying the perfect temptation –

And blinked as the previously almost unbearable pain dwindled slightly. "What….?" He breather out, astonished, sharing a quick glance with equally bewildered Faustus.

Claude was reigning in his bloodlust as much as he could, while his brain was blazing through the possible explanation for the newest phenomena. However, all the theories were abruptly halted as the eyelids of their patient snapped open, revealing the most exotic green eyes Claude has ever seen. Even when they were hazed and wide with agony, they captivated him as nothing else, prompting him to clutch the hand in his palm tighter.

Their ears were filled with the frantic heartbeat of their prey - it was a faint sound, but to them, it was the sweetest sound they had ever heard.

"Master?" Claude inquired, his voice huskier than he would've liked it to be, but he disregarded it as those eyes blinked and then zeroed onto him.

The boy panted a little, his frail body twitching as he made a move to get his hand out of Claude's clutch, but to no avail. A flicker of irritation passed his face before he gave up and his eyes flickered to Michaelis. Weakly, the small tongue wetted the parched lips, prompting Sebastian to reach for the glass filled with water.

Faustus gently perched the boy upward, noting that aside for occasionally tensing, the teen didn't flinch anymore. Which was a good sign, as it meant his body was successfully mending the damage done to it. Gently, Sebastian reached over, pressing the edge of the glass to his mouth, allowing the boy to sip the liquid slowly, all the while holding his wrist within his hand.

Usually mellow mocha colored eyes were now a demonic red, as those perfect lips curled in a wickedly mocking smile.

"Welcome back, Little Master."

Those catlike green eyes glared at him over the glass as Sebastian pressed a small kiss on the teen's hand, still swirling with heartbreak and confusion, but stronger than ever.

"Indeed." The patient rasped out dryly as the glass was drained of the liquid and put away from his lips.

"You were in a coma, Master." Claude interjected softly. "We are currently in the Trancy Manor as guests of Lady Sistina Carruthers. You were unconscious for two weeks."

Green eyes blinked hazily as Harry looked at the bespectacled butler. "Safe?" His inquiry made Claude nod. "For the time being." Claude murmured. "As it is, nobody knows about your break out yet."

Harry would have felt vindictive glee at the information, but instead, he was capable only of weary amusement. "You did good." He murmured instead, managing a faint smirk. And wasn't it ironic that two demons were more courteous to him than humans ever were? He winced at the sharp pain piercing through his brain at that thought.

A cool hand was placed on his head, making him press into it with relief. "Sleep." The bespectacled butler whispered to him. "We will be here."

Harry's body relaxed minutely at the whispered assurance and he allowed Sebastian to place him in more comfortable position, still half-expecting the pain, but right now, his body was wonderfully numb and he intended to take full advantage of it.

Everything else …could wait.

/To Be Continued/