Okay, well, one guest reviewer whom I deleted was griping about the overdose of Potterverse/Nasuverse stories. So, in the immortal words of John Cleese, "And now for something completely different".

I do still intend to do more Nasuverse crossovers, but I'm also trying to do more crossovers. This one is one I've been trying to do, as followers of the Cauldron will know. It's a crossover with Tokyo Ghoul with a rather specific pairing: Harry/Eto. As much as I want to see that pairing happen, it also raises a lot of problems, with the biggest one being Harry and Eto's respective moralities. It's taken a lot of time, effort, and bouncing ideas off Arawn D Draven (to whom I am extremely grateful for acting as a sounding board) to come up with a new story. Hopefully, this one will go somewhere. This one owes a bit to my Harry/Batman story Verdant Magic. Only, without James-bashing. There will be Dumbledore-bashing, but as with intended with Owls of Athena, it will be with a twist.

The title will be familiar to those who enjoy The Addams Family, but for those who don't know what it means, it's mock Latin for 'We gladly feast on those who try to subdue us'. A fitting motto for Aogiri Tree, even if it's much less extreme than in canon...

EDIT: I've changed some elements of this chapter, so I'm posting the second version, plus the second chapter, later on...

SIC GORGIAMUS ALLOS SUBJECTATOS NUNC (ORIGINAL)

CHAPTER 1:

MATERNAL INSTINCTS

Ghouls, a human subspecies, obligate cannibals who could only survive by feeding on normal humans. Feared in myth and legend, but now an immutable fact of life, especially in urban areas. Oddly enough, while they were found across the world, the biggest concentration seems to be in Japan, specifically Tokyo.

Of note in the past couple of years was an organisation of Ghouls rising in Tokyo. Although only recently formed, it was noted for causing the Commission for Countering Ghouls no small amount of trouble. They called themselves vigilantes, feeding off criminals, and violently repulsing any attempts to deal with them, but the CCG just called them a Ghoul yakuza, at best.

It would have surprised many to learn that not only was one of the leaders of this group a famous author whose recent book had caused a major stir on the literary stage, but said leader was a teenager. And that two of the leaders, including aforementioned teen, were no ordinary Ghouls. Though to be honest, one had to be extraordinary to lead Aogiri Tree…

The smell of cooking food filled the air of the small kitchen. It was a surprising thing to smell in an organisation populated by Ghouls, given that they normally could only eat human flesh, and yet, it was happening. Of course, it helped that of the two people present in the kitchen, they were both One-Eyed Ghouls, human-Ghoul hybrids.

Although Ghouls were a human subspecies, so genetically close to normal humans that they could potentially interbreed, the odds of this succeeding were minimal. In a human mother carrying such a hybrid, the foetus would die from a lack of nutrients from a lack of human flesh. In a Ghoul mother, the foetus could potentially be mistaken for nutrients and reabsorbed into the body. And yet, these two defied the odds.

In a way, having a normal breakfast reminded them that, as much as they too needed human flesh to survive, they also could enjoy some things that normal humans took for granted, and normal Ghouls could not. Small things that reminded them of their humanity, something they hung onto. As a reminder of what they were fighting for: a day when Ghouls would, if not reign supreme over humanity, then at least be able to live in the open without fear.

The girl sitting at the table was wearing dishevelled pyjamas with cartoonish owls on them. Her hair was equally dishevelled, a messy green mass, while her green eyes looked at the notebook she was scribbling notes in. She was a pretty Japanese girl, albeit looking a bit sleepy and ditzy, in her mid-teens.

The woman currently cooking at the stove was, by contrast, European, with red hair and green eyes, a deeper green than Eto's. She was quite beautiful, but there seemed to be a lugubriousness to her beauty, as if she was missing something. Which, indeed, she was.

"So, is that the next Sen Takatsuki novel, or are you working on another plan to conquer the world?" the woman asked.

The girl snorted. "The former, of course. Few evil masterminds worth their salt leave their plans for world conquest on paper if they can help it."

"You're not an evil mastermind, Eto. Just…a little twisted."

"I have you to thank for that, Mum. But…without you…I think I might've lost hope entirely."

"…Thanks, Eto. But…I wish I remembered what had happened to me. Where I came from. Why I have abilities other Ghouls do not. Why my memories feel like they've been deliberately blanked out. It took me years to even remember my first name…"

Eto nodded. It was when she was a much younger child, back when Noroi was raising her alone. There had been a strange, whipcrack-like noise, and the woman she would come to view as her mother, by adoption if not by blood, appeared, naked, choking up liquid, bleeding from pinprick wounds that were later found to be caused by Quinque Steel IV lines. And a single kakugan, the distinctive red iris on black sclera of Ghouls, usually in both eyes, but present only in one.

She'd been delirious with hunger, and they had given her food. It had taken some time for them to trust her, especially considering how she appeared out of literally nowhere, claiming to have no memory. Even now, most of her past was a palimpsest. She remembered her first name, and that she was from Britain. She had vague memories of her childhood, something about a castle, and a man with a snake-like face.

Before she remembered her name, Eto called her new mother figure 'Aka-san', as a pun. In Japanese, one called one's mother 'okaa-san', and 'akage' meant 'red hair'. Even now, she occasionally used the name as a teasing nickname.

"Well, with any luck, they'll come back in time, Aka-san," Eto said.

"By the way, we'll need to talk to Ayato again about his sister. I get that he resents her for staying with your father at Anteiku, but still…"

"Yeah. Don't get me wrong, she should be getting stronger…but frankly, the old man's her best chance at protection against the Ghouls if she doesn't want to join us or the other groups. He's a senile old fool, but...maybe he sees me in Touka. If he wants to make up for his past mistakes with her, then…well, I can't begrudge Touka that. I'm more pissed that my old man didn't try to bother to raise me, or at least send me somewhere other than the 24th Ward."

"Hence why we're raising that Scrapper we took from Big Madam," her mother said. "If the CCG found him, they'd probably be turning him into one hell of a lethal Dove. A shame he's still asleep, I'd have cooked him breakfast as well."

"Eh, Juuzou's fine. I think he's just tuckered out from the training Tatara put him through," Eto said. "Not that he needs much. He's one deadly little munchkin. I see why Big Madam adored him so much. Well, that, and he's really cuddly. Glad we rescued him from that malleting, though."

Her mother winced in sympathy. She may not have been male, but the thought of someone's genitalia being mashed into paste with a mallet was a painful one. Then again, in this world they lived in, there were many twisted things going on, many of them not involving Ghouls. At least Ghouls had to kill in order to feed, unless you did what Eto's father and his followers did and scavenged from suicide victims. They had, if not an excuse, then a reason for murder. But normal humans…the larders of Aogiri Tree were mostly stocked with criminals, paedophiles, rapists, murderers, yakuza, and so on. What was their excuse for being immoral?

As if thinking about him summoned him, the door opened, and the slender, androgynous form of Juuzou Suzuya slouched through, saluting lazily. He looked to be an albino, with that, plus his androgynous looks, giving him an unearthly air. He wore a pale shirt, and trousers with suspenders. "Ahoy there, One-Eyed Royalty! Sorry I'm late, but Tatara wiped the floor with me."

"You probably did well," Eto said. "Tatara isn't known for going easy on the Ghoul recruits. Do you want breakfast?"

"Sure. Anything left over?"

Eto's mother nodded. She had cooked some extra, just in case Juuzou woke up in time. Juuzou wandered over to the leftovers, and scooped them up onto a plate. The eccentric former Scrapper didn't even bother with utensils. Lily and Eto gave him a lot of leeway because he was deadly, and adorable.

A Scrapper was a human slave who worked at one of the Ghoul Restaurants. While the two One-Eyed Ghouls present both had sadistic sides, and loved to play with their food, they preferred to do so in private, not in some gory cabaret serving up Grand Guignol with the human flesh. And yet, Ghoul Restaurants did just that, frequently putting on 'Dismantling Shows', where a Scrapper would butcher a hapless human (usually several) as part of a live show.

Juuzou was one of the best Scrappers in the stable of Big Madam. They had raided the Ghoul Restaurant where she kept Juuzou, and caught the bitch as she was about to neuter Juuzou in a rather painful manner. Unfortunately, the bitch managed to get away, as they were more set on rescuing Juuzou than they were on killing her.

Although rather twisted and lacking morals or even social skills, Juuzou endeared himself to the two part-Ghouls. To Eto, he was like an adorably homicidal little brother. He had deadly skills, and had an endearingly eccentric attitude that was entertaining.

"So, what sort of Quinque would you want to wield, Juuzou?" Eto asked, with the air of a mother asking her child what they wanted for Christmas or their birthday.

The albino former Scrapper frowned, tugging at his lip in an endearing manner. "Not sure. I'm really good with knives, but I've used other stuff, you know?"

"We've got a few we've stolen from the CCG, but we don't know which ones would suit you and your frame," Eto said. "You're pretty strong for your age, but you're used to making quick attacks more than anything else."

Juuzou nodded absently. "Glad you cooked more, Aka-san," he said. "Though if I'd been sleeping, would it have gone to waste? I mean, this is a place filled with Ghouls. It's not like human guests would drop right out of the air."

Suddenly, there was a flare of light, and a pair of bodies dropped seemingly out of thin air, and onto the table, destroying it. A pair of teenagers, one about Eto's age with glasses, the other a couple of years older and very attractive, both with dark hair and dressed in robes. Clutched in the hands of the younger one was an elaborate trophy.

"…Huh. Looks like I was wrong," Juuzou remarked surprisingly casually. "Are they dead?"

Eto checked them. "…The older one is. Shame, he's a bishounen if I ever saw one. Now he's just spare meat for the larder." She checked the other one. "…This one's still alive. Pulse is a bit weak. Smells…actually, he smells a bit familiar, doesn't he?" Noticing no reply from her mother, she looked at her, only to see her mother reaching out to touch the younger boy's face.

"…James?" she whispered. "…No…he…this must…I…Eto, Juuzou, get the corpse into storage. And this one…Eto…I know this smell." Her green eyes met Eto's own. "…I think…I think this is my son…"

Even while unconscious, Harry Potter was not having a good time. He'd been kidnapped by his nemesis, Cedric Diggory was now a corpse, and he had barely escaped, only for one of the Death Eaters to fire a curse at the Portkey. In short, he was having a bad time, and it was sure to get worse before it got better. Assuming it DID get better, anyway. Harry's life was a roller-coaster one to be sure with bipolar luck, but at this point, it looked like it was all downhill from here.

Every year, every bloody year, he had some trial or travail to overcome. There was that business with Quirrellmort and the Philosopher's Stone in his first year, the Basilisk and Lockhart in his second year (not to mention learning he was a Parselmouth), the Dementors, Sirius Black and Pettigrew in his third year…and now, the Tri-Wizard Tournament this year, with most of the school turning their back on him, even Ron, his supposed best friend, at least until the First Task.

Now, Voldemort was in the realm of the living once more. His friends were going to die. And he would never even get to say goodbye. He was going to die himself, Voldemort hunting him down.

Not that he particularly wanted to die. For all Dumbledore's guff about death being the next great adventure or whatever he said at the end of Harry's first year before sending him back to the Dursleys, Harry would prefer to live. He hungered for life, amongst other things. He had often been hungry since he could remember, and chalked it down to being often underfed by the Dursleys. It was a dull hunger, one never satisfied, and to tell the truth, he was never one to gorge himself on food either, especially after seeing his uncle and cousin do so. But he needed something. Something he couldn't define.

He drifted through these thoughts in the hazy boundary between wakefulness and sleep, before he finally opened his eyes, dreading what he would see. He was fairly sure, by the ambient sound, that he wasn't in Hogwarts, or at least not the Hospital Wing. The smell was different too. He ached all over, but while being subjected to the Cruciatus was new, having such pain wasn't.

The room he woke up in had the air of a mansion bedroom, albeit one that had seen better days. However, what drew his eye was that he wasn't alone in the room. Watching him closely was an Asian girl about his age, with a messy thatch of green hair, and green eyes, the latter glittering with mirth as much as concern.

"Ahh, so you're awake," she said, her English accented. "Goody. So…I'm guessing by the look on your face that you looked like something the cat dragged in and pissed all over, so I'm going to avoid asking a stupid question like how you are feeling."

"…Well, I do feel like that," Harry said quietly, his voice a hoarse rasp. "But who are you? Where am I?"

"Ah, well, to answer your questions in reverse order, you are on Rushima Island, out in Tokyo Bay. And my name is Eto. Though maybe you might have heard of me even in England. Have you ever read anything by Sen Takatsuki?"

Harry blinked. Sen Takatsuki was an author Hermione had introduced him to during his third year, sending him a copy of Dear Kafka in English. This girl was Sen Takatsuki? "You're her?"

"Yep. Now…there's a lot you're going to hear that's going to change your life, and you probably won't think it's for the better, or even believe half of it. But…it's the truth. Seriously, I know they say that truth is stranger than fiction, but if a writer came up with this crap, they're a hack and no mistake."

Before Harry could ask what she meant, the door opened, and an impossibility walked through. A red-haired woman with green eyes. "…I was right, Eto," she said quietly. "A Purging Potion helped. I remember much more now, and…oh. Oh, you're awake."

"…Who are you?" Harry asked, knowing the answer but denying it with every ounce of will. He'd seen this face before in the pictures Hagrid gave him.

"…I thought that would've been obvious, Harry," Eto said. "This is your mother. Our mother, though she's mine by adoption. Not that I knew this until, well, you dropped into our laps."

"Eto…he needs to be let into this gently," the impostor, it had to be an impostor, said.

"…I don't think there's a gentle way to put it," Eto said. But before she could say anything, the door opened, and a pale-skinned, white-haired boy slouched through.

"So, hey…have you told him how you're part-Ghouls yet, and he's one too?"

As Harry stared at the boy, and then at the woman claiming to be his mother and Eto, his world felt like it was crumbling down around him. Eto facepalmed, and muttered, "Dammit, Juuzou…"

CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:

Oh dear, Juuzou. Your lack of a filter and social graces have done you no favours here, have they?

No numbered annotations this time.