Summary:  5th year AU. Spoilers for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. At Koenma's request, Kurama becomes involved with the great-grandson he'd never met--Harry Potter. And poor Harry, who'd never known a loving family, finds himself drawn into a world of demons and violence, where wizards are reviled for their contempt for and systematic oppression of nonhumans. Are the two worlds incompatible, as Kurama believes, or will Harry manage to be part of both the wizarding and demon worlds? Will be slash/yaoi.

Author's Notes: This is my first time writing Harry Potter… and it's been quite awhile since I've written YYH. Just so you know ^^;;

Disclaimer: Yu Yu Hakusho belongs to Togashi Yoshihiro, Shounen Jump, et al. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, et al. No copyright infringement is intended, despites the millions I'm making off this *coughIwishcough*


         The mists swirled around his feet as he strode purposefully over the rocky ground. An oppressive silence hung like a faint miasma in the stale air. Before him loomed an ancient castle. It rose from the bleak and otherwise faceless landscape like the Eiffel Tower in the middle of the Sahara desert. Tacky, and inappropriate. Perhaps, he mused, it would have been less incongruous had it not appeared to be surrounded for miles by nothing but barren, rocky soil. Nevertheless, it stood out like an Armani suit on a K-mart sales rack. There wasn't a soul in sight.

         No pun intended.

         Kurama stood before the large gates looking cool and unruffled, as though being summoned to the Spirit World was as normal as going to the super market. It wasn't, but since Kurama had spent the last several years as a Spirit Detective (and hadn't been officially relieved of his duties), he wasn't too worried.

         As was the status quo in Spirit World, he was the only one who wasn't worried about something. As the gates opened before him, he found himself smiling at the usual frantic bustling that greeted his eyes.

         "Kurama." George the Oni bowed low to him. "If you'll follow me. Koenma anxiously awaits your arrival." Kurama arched a delicate brow at that but followed quietly, curiosity roused. George was looking more harassed than usual—and that was saying something. His curiosity was further roused when they reached the office of Koenma, and Kurama was able to observe the toddler looking unusually solemn.

         As chief administrator of the Spirit World, answerable only to his father, (Emperor) Enma-Daiou, Koenma was in a very stressful position. If one could say anything about Koenma, it was that he dealt well with the stresses of his position—by delegating them. This caused perhaps twice as much stress among his underlings, but left Koenma himself generally cheerful and relatively carefree. Kurama secretly suspected Koenma's regular use of his toddler form was an expression of his unwillingness to shoulder the burden of responsibility placed upon him by his father. Kurama could count on his right hand the number of times he'd seen Koenma in his teenage body: At the demonic Dark Martial Arts tournament, when he'd sponsored his team of Spirit Detectives; during the Sensui fiasco, when a former Spirit Detective had gone bad and attempted to build a Gate between the human and demon worlds; and during the tournament held to decide which demon was qualified (read: powerful) enough to rule the Demon World, when Urameshi Yusuke, Spirit Detective extraordinaire, was competing in place of his ancestor, Raizen.

         He wasn't in teenage form at the moment, but was so disturbed he forgot to curtly dismiss George after he'd announced Kurama's arrival. Curious, indeed. "Come here, Kurama," the toddler beckoned with one small, pudgy hand. "There is a matter of some concern in the Human World right now that you are—rather indirectly—connected to."

         Kurama stood by Koenma's large desk. Usually piled high with documents, it was now wiped clean except for a single folder, which Koenma seemed to handle with distaste. "What is it, Koenma?" His expression darkened. "It has nothing to do with my family, does it?"

         Fathomless brown eyes peered cautiously up at him. "I'm afraid it does, actually." He absently ran one finger along the spine of the folder as Kurama frowned down at him. "Tell me, have you heard the name 'Tom Riddle' before?"

Kurama's frown deepened. "I can't say that I have."

"How about 'Voldemort?'"

         Comprehension dawned on Kurama's face. "Ah, yes. The wizard's bogeyman." He couldn't help the slightly contemptuous curl of his lips. He didn't hold the wizarding world in high regard, and for very good reasons. "What possible connection could my family have to a megalomaniac British wizard? A dead wizard, I might add."

         Koenma suckled his pale blue pacifier thoughtfully. "Not as dead as the wizards thought, I'm afraid—I knew all along, of course—and now a lot less dead than I'm comfortable with." His expression was troubled as he nervously fingered the edge of the folder. "He caused a great deal of trouble before he was defeated the first time. He's quite capable of single-handedly reducing the wizard population to nothing—and don't give me that look, Kurama; they're human and the Spirit World is responsible for them—and he'd eventually start killing normal humans as well."

         "As horrific as this is, I still fail to see how it involves my family." Kurama pursed his lips, trying hard to stamp down his disapproval. He disliked prejudice in general, but it was hard not to be prejudiced against a group of people who could, in all fairness, be likened to Nazis led by Homer Simpson. Their relentless persecution of all things not human was legendary in certain circles, and there were a great deal of nonhumans who were extremely bitter towards wizards.

         "Yes. That. Well." Koenma pulled a sheet from out of the folder and placed it before Kurama. "Your family tree—at least, all of it that's relevant to this conversation." Kurama leaned forward, eyes narrowing as they raked over the forked lines. And then they widened in shock. Oh, no, he couldn't possibly be—!

         "B-but that's impossible!" George exclaimed loudly in his ear. Kurama winced slightly, but was prepared to voice agreement. "I mean, he couldn't possibly be his own great-grandfather. The odds against it must be six billion to one!"

         Ah. Kurama smirked slightly as Koenma waved a small first threateningly at the oni. "Don't be stupid, George. The odds were against him dying at the same time one of his progeny was pregnant, but it's only natural that he ended up in that particular fetus. Blood calls blood and all that."

         George looked appropriately awed. Kurama just shook his head, deciding to bring the conversation back on track. "I think I see your point, Koenma. What I don't understand is what, exactly, you want from me."

         The junior deity gave him a sly look, a small smile forming around his pacifier. "This Voldemort has caused us great deal of paperwork, but, as you know, the Spirit World can't interfere in these matters directly unless there are creatures from another realm involved. You, on the other hand... You're on good standing with us right now, and should you choose to interfere on behalf of your blood kin, the Spirit World wouldn't stand in your way. And if you wanted to recruit a few of your allies... Well, I think we might be willing to look the other way."

Kurama closed his eyes. He felt a headache coming on. He already knew from his experiences in the Human World that children were more trouble than they were worth, and this one was bound to be ten times the normal amount of trouble.