Rated T for Yaoi, Sexual Situations (eventually), Violence, and Hidan's Pottymouthedness.

Thick and dark, the red liquid swirled and swayed with Harry's faint movements as he stared down into his cup – trying his best to ignore Hermione's preaching. She paused for breath – for once chancing a glance around the dining room turned Order meeting place. Dark eyes caught on Harry's untouched drink and she gasped dramatically.

"Harry," Hermione hissed, sounding scandalized – but then again when wasn't she scandalized these days? "Is that –"

"It's hot chocolate Hermione."

She sniffed, slightly ashamed of her mishap - not because she may have insulted Harry, but rather because she had been wrong. "It looks awfully like…"

"It's not," Harry interrupted smoothly, taking a sip from his austere white cup to drive the point home.

"I know!" Hermione snapped, crossing her arms over her recently ample chest. "It's just that you've been acting so bizarre these past months and I wouldn't really be surprised at this point if that was blood."

"I'm tired and bored," Harry cut across, leeching warmth from his cup and ignoring Hermione steadfastly.

The brunet girl looked angry and hurt, as did many of the other order members, at his careless disregard for her comments and the so-called 'important' information that had been exchanged over the past hour. Harry paid their expressions no mind, feeling far older than all the others crowding the room despite the fact that he was indeed easily the youngest.

"Voldemort cannot be killed here. A wizard draws his magic from the world around him – not from inside. If I'm to be expected to kill him – we must go somewhere without magic."

Snape sneered, the expression turning his unpleasant features more bearable – as if his face was made solely for the purpose of sneering. "How would a child know such a thing?"

Harry flicked green eyes up to look at them, already knowing what their answer would be to his next statement. "It has been whispered in my ears," The young brunet muttered, again playing with his drink as the whispering voices grew louder – as if they knew they were being spoken of. "By the dead."

The reaction was delayed, if only by shock. Funny, Harry thought, that they seemed to always become shocked when he mentioned his more unsavory talents although he had mentioned and demonstrated them several times over the past few months. The reaction came nonetheless, seeming far more violent to his ears than those passed - likely due to his anemic state today. Molly was first, followed closely by Tonks, and then Hermione. All three gasped and displayed various expression of heartbreak, turning to their nearest respective Weasley male for support. All three shrugged, neigh simultaneously, and Harry likely would have found it funny had it not been under such glum circumstances. Snape sneered, Dumbledore frowned, and all the nameless others either gasped or glared – depending solely on the amount of 'affection' they held for him.

"Harry," Dumbledore spoke, his voice grave and rough with stress. "I believe it best you not discuss such upsetting matters."

Harry drank deeply from his cup, neither acknowledging nor agreeing to the elderly man's statement. "We can't defeat Voldemort here, not with how this world is constructed. We have to take him somewhere without magic – somewhere he can't access his core."

"If we did such a thing you and any other fool who followed you would be defenseless as well!" The dour potions master snapped, feeling superior.

"Not I, not with my talent with upsetting matters."

The room fell silent and Harry smiled slightly at the silence, sipping his drink. He half wanted to add on a sarcastic 'Unless Voldemort is talented with upsetting matters as well?', but he refrained – feeling that he'd likely upset many of the older members more than their hearts could handle. Although, wouldn't that just stick it in their gills? If they died and as a result became a key part of his 'upsetting matters' they so hated. After all, what was a necromancer without his corpses? Harry smiled – making sure to keep it small enough to be hidden by the wide rim of his cup.

Snape's foul expression grew more foul – signaling that he was, as always, to first to see the logic behind Harry's argument and was once again angered at the fact that the brat had been proven correct by his logic. Slowly, all the others transformed their revolted expressions to acquiescence and then finally Dumbledore cleared his throat and spoke. "I do not know of a spell that would send being to another dimension."

"I do."

Hermione burst out from Charlie's comforting arms, leaning as close to Harry as the table between them would allow – fat tears running tracks through her slightly too heavy foundation. "And I suppose that these… these… dead people told you about that too?" Brown hair stuck to Hermione's moist cheeks as she stared pleadingly at the top of Harry's bowed head. She licked her lips and leaned further over the table – laying on it now in her desperation to get him to listen. "You can't listen to them Harry! They just want you to be overcome b y this power so that you will bring them back. They just want to hurt you!"

Some of the voices purred their agreement along with encouragement to do as the girl stated they wanted and bring them back. More still – the majority by far – however screamed their disagreement, a handful of voice in particular singing louder than the others. "I assure you, Hermione, Sirius and Remus – my parents even – do not wish me harm." The mentioned agreed loudly although none could hear their cheers but Harry.

A slow lump worked its way down Hermione's throat as she stared at him in silence. Finally, she stood and swept at her plaid skirt as if she had never lost her composure. "This isn't right Harry. These things you can do – they are wrong. It's unnatural."

Harry met her eyes for the first time in weeks, emerald eyes unblemished by pupils meeting startled tree bark brown. "I couldn't agree more Hermione."

Again, the room fell silent –this time feeling more awkward than ever before. Harry could feel it – the worry, the anger, the confusion, and the constant weight of every being that had ever died all screaming in his abused ears bearing down on his already weak body like the too heavy weight of the air on a stormy day.

"Who do you want to accompany you?" Dumbledore queried – again breaking the silence.

The young man shook his head, wild locks flying out in all directions. "I'm going alone – I won't be able to come back."

"Why!?" Molly cried in shock.

Hermione – quick as ever – gasped as she noticed Harry's hint. "It's a spell." She whispered, leaning heavily against Charlie. "He's going to use magic to take himself and Voldemort somewhere without magic which means he would not be able to do the spell again to bring him back."

Nodding like Remus was often want to do in his days of life, Harry kept his eyes down – knowing without an ounce of doubt that very few of his self-proclaimed friends were truly disappointed by such a notion. Hermione – despite all the changes she gone through since Ron's death – was one of the few who did care, and for that she still held his affection.

Dumbledore nodded slowly, granting his acceptance of Harry's plan without a word. The boy stood, setting his now empty cup on the table and turning to leave. Pausing very briefly at the door, Harry chanced a glance at those in the room behind him. He gave a short, emotionless nod – the only goodbye he would be giving - before continuing through into the hall. Even after all that had happened between him and the rest of the order, friends and enemies alike, he couldn't bring himself to actually say his farewell. Harry knew many of them would not miss him, nor he they, but those people had still been his first family and that alone made it far too painful to speak a word of goodbye. Pausing only to don a dark brown cloak, Harry headed out into the far too sunny day to find, kill, and possibly be killed by Voldemort.

The journey to where Harry knew Voldemort's current stronghold to be (an outwardly small hovel on the outskirts the more beaten and worn sector of London) was surprisingly short – considering that it was more or less a death march. He tapped gently on the door as to not knock it in, all the while feeling bizarrely domestic. Taking the momentary pause before answer to ready himself, Harry slung the heavy folds of his cloak over his shoulders and unbuttoned nearly all of the buttons on his shirt to reveal a sinister looking tattoo spanning over his entire chest. He gathered his magic to prepare for the spell, watching out of the corner of his eye in fascination as the dark swirling tattoo seemed to eat the light around it. Harry took the chance to mutter a final goodbye to the voices- knowing all too well that this would be the last time he heard this particular set. The door swung open, Harry looked up to red eyes, and a wand tip was immediately leveled at his lightening scar.

"This is fucking bullshit!"

Kakazu said nothing, choosing instead to continue forward – all the while ignoring his very loud companion as best he could.

"Why the fuck do we get all these crap ass missions? Walk all the way to bum fucking Suna to kill a five year old? A fucking five year old!? What the hell are we? Fucking genin!?"

Glowing yellow eyes narrowed slightly, but the masked nin otherwise ignoring Hidan's violent rant. Hidan didn't seemed to mind – as long as he was yelling at someone the silver haired man apparently didn't care.

Hidan glared at nothing in particular – letting loose a random string of curses as he continued forward through that fucking hot ass sand that kept getting in his fucking shoes. As a rule, he tried not to complain about a mission while still on said mission. Now, however, that the fucking child was dead he felt he had every right to curse to the dumbass leader to hell and back for making him do such a pointless mission. And he hated fucking Suna! Why couldn't he have sent that dumb fuck blond girly man? He, at least, could have flown on the back of one of his stupid birds. Hidan swung his scythe out in anger, forcing Kakazu to duck. The stitched man threw an instantaneously ignored glare in his direction before turning back to face their path and promptly stopping.

Otherwise preoccupied by his cursing, Hidan did not notice his partner's pause until he had rammed right into the taller man's back.

"Watch where the fuck you're going dumbass!" He shouted, giving Kakazu a cursory hit on the back. Said man narrowed his eyes further and grasped the wide-open collar of his cloak, violently jerking Hidan forward so he stood to Kakazu's left before pointing a patchwork hand at a strange thing in the sky above. Hidan eyed the dark swirling mass of clouds in the sky, raising a hand to his eyes to block the sun.

His violet eyes narrowed and he leaned forward – using his scythe as a crutch. "What in the fuck is that shit?" Kakazu went to answer – likely, Hidan thought, with yet another fucking brilliant allusion to the connection between frequent cursing and a sever lacking of intelligence – but was thankfully given pause when the black thing gave a great sputtering noise (rather like it was fighting against something) before spitting out a man onto the ground a few paces ahead of them. The man thing rose, glaring at the sky above and gripping a stick like a lifeline as his blood red eyes diligently followed the swirl of the dark clouds above. The man was tall – taller even than the impressively vertically gifted Kakazu – and rail thin with features that violently reminded Hidan of Orochimaru. This man – like the snake sanin – had the same too pale to be human skin, the same snake shaped eyes, and the same extremely small (or in this man's case, extremely nonexistent) nose. He was so blaringly bald that the sun glinted off the curve his skull and he was dressed in wispy, light looking black clothes that matched in color so well that Hidan couldn't tell where one garment ended and the next began.

"What the fuck?"

The man chanced a look at Hidan and Kakazu at the silver haired man's statement, red eyes zoning in on Hidan's scythe before snapping his gaze back to the clouds as they yet again sputtered. Another figure was spit out, falling rapidly to the earth below. Just before the small form would have crashed painfully into the sand as his predecessor had the sands shifted and from their depths emerged thousands of human and animal limbs all in various states of decomposition – reaching upward to form an almost throne like landing place for their master. The reached eagerly to capture the darkly clothed figure – who was revealed to be a young and small man- catching and cradling him as if he were a beloved treasure.

The second man rose elegantly from his makeshift throne, walking towards the snake man swiftly with the limbs following through the sand and grasping gently at the edges of his person. Hidan stared. This second man was as different as he could be from the first. This one was very small in stature with a slender girlish figure, but with an aura of power that made him seem far larger than he was. Wildly curly ear length black hair surrounded the younger (and frankly far more attractive) man's face like the mane of a lion, his stunningly green cat like eyes further promoting the lion-esc impression. Through the open front of a white shirt and wide-open cloak, Hidan could see an impressive vine like tattoo swirling across the young man's chest – the center of which was a point down triangle surrounded by a circle.

Kakazu mentally paused, eyes drifting down to Hidan's rosemary, adorned by the same geometric symbol then back to the young man. Now that the yellow-eyed man actually looked closely, there was something rather inhuman about the boy. His skin was pale and glowing while both his hair and tattoo were so deep a black that they seemingly consumed to light around them. Said boy – who was now within arm's length of both the akatsuki pair and the snake man – reached over suddenly, easily snatching Hidan's scythe away and yielding it with both a strength and grace unexpected from him.

Snake man took a step back, raising his stick, and yelling some gibberish – looking rather shocked when nothing happened. The second newcomer grinned a dark, terrifying smile that sent a chill down even Kakazu's spine before spinning the scythe expertly and slicing through snake man's middle without pause. The severed halves of snake man fell into the waiting grasp of the rotting limbs, which made quick work of pulling both the man's body and every grain of blood stained sand to whence they came. There was no trace of the man left behind.

The remaining man turned to face them, offering Hidan his scythe back. The silver haired nin stared, eyes flicking from the corpse hands still licking like an excited puppy at the boy's feet to his beautiful, other worldly features before finally settling on the tattoo. He gripping the long chain of his rosary tightly, eyes focused on the tattoo for a moment or two before a look of surprised understanding flooded his eyes.

Hidan knew, at that moment, just who this man was. He was sure that there simply was not any other explanation. The strange entrance from the heavens themselves, the tattoo prominently featuring Jasin's mark, the boy's skill with Hidan's own scythe – a weapon that only dedicated Jashinists had ever mastered, and even the youth's startling beauty: it all pointed at a single conclusion.

"Holly fucking hell," Hidan muttered softly before promptly dropping to his knees in as respectful a bow as he could manage. "Great God Jashin," he announced to both the started boy and completely flabbergasted bystander Kakazu had become. "I am at your beck and call."

The newcomer stared, pupil-less green eyes blinking slowly in incomprehension. The hands reached at Hidan, gripping his cloak gently and pulling – not trying to pull him under but rather like they were encouraging him.

"Um, what?"

A.N. Okie dokie, as I'm sure you probably noticed - this fic is going to be far darker and far more serious than most of my other work. Also, this Harry is a bit different from my usual one - but he sorta had to be. He'll still be sweet and caring and all that fluffy crap, but he also needed to have a rougher, darker edge in order to work in a pairing with Hidan. BTW, in case it isn't obvious yet this will be a Harry/Hidan in which Harry is the uke. I know all my poor faithful readers must be uber pissed with me right now - and I'm sorry! I swear updates of both Screwed and Kittens are on their way I just could not resist the bunny! I don't know if I'll continue this - I guess it depends on your feedback I just... the bunny! The bunny... and the bunny... yeah. *whimpers in a corner* Also, please take a look at my other new fic - Sing Me A Song Little Nightingale. To help promote it, the first person to leave me a review on that story that figures out what x-over I'm alluding to gets the one-shot of their choice... within reason. Anyone who asks for SakuNaru or SakuSasu will be shot... survivors will be shot again. Anywho - tell me what you think! ^.^