Title: They All Fall Down

Author: JadeOokami

Category: Harry Potter and D. Gray Man crossover

Genre: Action/Adventure, friendship

Summary: There was the softest of sounds from the window; He spun his head to look. "I did not expect to run into an exorcist here."

Timeline: Before/during the 7th Harry Potter book, and in D. Gray Man, not long after General Cross disappears/dies/whatever. (Spoilers for during the book and possibly the occasional one for DGM, but probably not much.)

Warnings!: Some language (Even though I don't usually curse, I'm afraid the world generally disagrees with me), Character deaths (That should be fairly expected), mild blood/gore

Updating schedule: Every Wednesday, if possible, and occasional extras on the weekends. Except not now, since it's completed :D

Pairings: Canon Harry Potter pairings for the most part, but they are not the focus. Very little hinted for the DGM cast. Mostly it's all friendship (Because there's not enough of that).

Disclaimer: Ha. No. If I owned DGM, it would not be on hiatus for the second/third/hundredth time. And if I owned HP, I'd be rich, and I can tell you that I am very much poor. So, I own neither, and there's nothing to sue me for (literally).

Edit: Editted once more... Finally managed to fix the randomly bolded words. For some reason, no matter what version I uploaded and no matter how many times I save and created a new file, the bolded words stuck. The changes I made otherwise, the line break, all would appear, but the bolded would always stick... Had to go through here on fanfiction . net and manually unbold them. I apologize for that.


Harry shifted on the couch, restless. The TV continued to play it program, the sounds barely even registering. Dudley was the one who picked the show; of course he himself was not allowed to touch the remote on even the best days. It was some action flick that honestly had nothing going for it. He wasn't even sure why he had sat down in the first place. Watching his family run around like chickens with their heads cut off was only amusing for so long.

There was only a few more days until he was due to leave this house and probably never return. His uncle seemed to constantly change his mind about whether or not he would go along with the plan that had been devised for them and their safety, though that could not concern Harry less. He'd been periodically moving his suitcases and things from the car to the house, always changing his mind on his course of action not long after he'd seemingly come to a decision.

He was knocked out of his thoughts when he heard Dudley chuckle toward the TV, followed shortly after by the doorbell. Both looked at the direction of the hallway that lead to the front door, hearing faint shuffling further down. Shutting the TV off and tossing the remote back to where he had been sitting, Dudley was quick to walk across the room and disappear into the hallway. Harry was slightly surprised – Dudley usually wasn't so interested in who was at the door. Standing as well, he moved to observe in the doorway.

He was curious. The usual threats that came with visiting company hadn't shown themselves, and he hadn't noticed the routine, nearly perfectionist cleaning. It was already evening – who would it be, so close to when Vernon and the others would most likely be moved?

Uncle Vernon appeared from the kitchen, wearing his polite visitor clothes, and he knew that it was a preplanned meeting even if he hadn't been told about it.

"Make yourself scarce, boy," Vernon warned as he passed, pausing in front of the door long enough for Petunia to scuttle in behind him, wringing her hands in her finely ironed dress.

Harry rolled his eyes, but slipped into the kitchen anyway. It was normal, so he wasn't surprised at the warning. He just hoped that his uncle wasn't doing anything to mess up the plans later that week.

He heard the door open, followed by loud greetings. He began to pour himself a glass of water as he identified two different voices he didn't recognize, turning to lean against the sink thoughtfully.

"We cannot stay too long, but thank you for your hospitality," A man said pleasantly, sounding middle-aged and polite. Like someone who was educated and quite possibly someone who had a high ranking at work. Why else would he be visiting? Vernon never invited anybody else over who wasn't family.

"My, your house is so clean! You've overdone yourself Petunia!" A woman's voice exclaimed, traveling no doubt into the livingroom as her voice grew a little more muffled. His aunt proceeded to laugh and politely show the guests to their seats.

He dumped out his water after only a few gulps and reached for the sponge. Cleaning the glass allowed himself to wander into his thoughts again, but just as he reached to turn off the faucet, he felt a sharp pin prick in his scar. He barely managed to keep from dropping the slippery glass in his surprise.

He leaned against the sink again, just standing there for a moment. Hearing laughter from the other room, he frowned. The visitors could be a witch or wizard, but the protective wards prevented anyone with malicious intent from entering. They had had so much faith in them for so long that he didn't think even briefly that there could be something wrong with the wards. The continued tingling in his scar made his decision for him though - he would go to check them out, regardless of how annoyed his aunt and uncle may be.

He made tea, and set it all on the china platter that his aunt usually reserved for guests. Picking it up from the counter and pausing briefly to get used to the heavy weight, he moved quietly down the hall until he stood in the doorway. He waited for somebody to notice him.

Vernon was the first, his face scrunching up in distaste and annoyance, no doubt wondering what Harry thought he was doing. His attention was snatched away when the man spoke to him, his face smoothing out into politeness immediately.

"Something wrong?"

He gave a small, slightly strained smile and replied,

"No, no, not at all," Then he gave Harry a pointed look, "Well, do come on. Don't stand there all day."

With everybody's attention now focused on him, Harry walked inside.

The man looked almost aristocratic. His overall appearance was slightly fancy, as was the woman's. Both looked similar, which made him think that perhaps they were related rather than husband and wife. Both appeared middle-aged, perhaps mid-forties, and they sat with a polite and proper air around them. Harry turned his sight to Petunia, who was the closest to him, and so the first he held the tray out to. She took a cup with only a minor look of disdain, though she didn't drink any of the tea inside.

"Oh, you never told me you had two sons. Such a cute boy, if not a bit skinny," The woman smiled at him when he glanced a look in her direction. She looked to be a kind enough person, but when their eyes met, he had the same feeling that he sometimes had when he'd looked into Dumbledore's eyes – the feeling that he could be seen into, seen through. As if the other could look right into his soul. He looked away quickly, restraining himself from touching his scar, which prickled a little more insistently.

"...He's not my son. This is Petunia's nephew. She and I took him in after the deaths of his parents when he was still very young," Vernon looked like he would rather be speaking about anything else at that moment, but his expression changed into reluctant pleasure when his guest complimented him with,

"How kind of you!"

"Not at all."

Conversation changed as Harry mildly held the tray toward Dudley, who only took one because he wanted to appear polite. He briefly wondered why the other was there at all, if it were a work related meeting. Vernon did not even look at him when he took a cup into his own fat hands.

"I heard about that Jimmy recently on the news. He was a fine man."

"Yes," The man nodded, giving Harry a 'thank you' when given a cup of tea, "His death really was unfortunate and unexpected. Filling his position will also be hard."

Harry glanced at the man, figuring that he really was Vernon's boss or at least a co-worker, and held the tray with the last cup toward the woman. She took it with another smile.

"And just after the death of his wife too, it really was sad," The woman adopted a wistful look, "I talked to her once before, not too long before her death. She was a woman full of fire. I think you would have gotten along well, Petunia. You both seem to share your passion for family."

A moment of silence passed in respect for the dead, which Harry used to shift to the end of the couch and linger there. Ignoring the dirty look sent his way by Vernon, he turned to the woman when she addressed him.

"I believe they had a son about your age. In fact, you look fairly similar to him," She beckoned him closer. Standing before her albeit reluctantly, she also rose to her feet, reaching to his face and tilting it different directions, "You are a handsome boy. And quite delicious looking."

He blinked, startled. It was an odd thing to say, he had to admit, and he didn't particularly feel comfortable being called delicious looking either. He waited uncomfortably for her to relinquish her grip. She didn't. Instead, when he tried to gently move backwards, he found he couldn't move at all. He stiffened in alarm, his thoughts whirling at high speed. Her eyes were trained on his, and he was positive now that she had to be using wandless magic through either her eyes, or her touch.

"Something wrong?" Petunia asked, unaware of her nephew's plight. Harry tried to wiggle harder, but even his jaw and tongue was frozen solid. He couldn't speak to warn them that something was wrong. His eyes were stuck staring ahead, his breathing, he thought, was quite possibly under her control as well. It was as if he had become a statue, not a thing moving except his chest as he breathed in a steady rhythm that was becoming more and more forced. He wondered if his breathing was under her control, since he couldn't break the rhythm even when he tried. Could she make it impossible for him to breath?

"Nothing at all," The woman purred, "In fact, everything is quite fine."

Staring into her eyes, he was able to see the subtle way her eyes began to change. A dull glow emitted from her irises, her pupils began to contract. The skin on her face was paling into an ill gray, which then obtained a sheen like metal. If his eyes could, they would be wide in shock. He'd never seen transfiguration like this before.

Vernon was on his feet immediately, bellowing a frightened "What in the bloody hell is – "

Harry could not see much since everything from the corners of his eyes, uncovered by his glasses, were blurry, but he was sure that the man had hit his uncle. He'd heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh harshly, followed by a heavy thump, and a short, shrill shriek from Petunia. He couldn't help think that strange – wizards hardly ever used physical violence, the other should have been stunned or killed long before any witch or wizard would typically resort to physical violence.

"You're always too impatient, my dear," The man said with a great suffering sigh. There was a distinct dark amusement in his voice.

"I cannot wait any longer," The woman's hair was stiffening into straight needles and her hands enlarging big enough that one could wrap around Harry's waist almost completely. Her mouth stretched in the corners, giving the impression of smiling, though he didn't think she really was. He could see a set of large, sharp, wicked teeth growing there. He swallowed heavily. "I'm starving."

All at once, the lights went out.

The light bulbs burst with loud pops, raining shattered glass, and the room flooded into darkness. Harry struggled violently though he didn't move an inch and could only stare at what he could dimly see of the sharp teeth approaching his own face. He didn't know what the strangers were if they weren't human, and this one certainly didn't appear to be. They seemed to have come here for the purpose of attacking him – he was so confused how they got in though, how the wards hadn't sensed them. Had Dumbledore been wrong all this time? Why only now, a week from his final deadline? Then he froze.

A high pitched whistling cut the air, high enough to hurt his ears. The large front double-window shattered with a great crash that startled everyone within. What had been the woman broke her staring contest with him, and whatever magical force holding him immobile vanished; He threw himself back, and watched as the light from the street lamps spilled in to illuminate a streak of glowing silver that flew over the threshold and embedded itself into the monster's head. Its force was so great that it went right through her, her body giving a great jerk, her mouth opened in a scream that wasn't at all silent.

Throwing up his arms, he barely blocked his eyes as she exploded into flames. He felt a great stinging and burning on his cheek and hands, but pushed it out of his mind as he fell back, onto the ground. When the light faded, he lifted his head and looking around frantically. Across the room, he spotted what he recognized as a Japanese sword embedded into the wall. It was so deep that he was sure that if he were to go into the next room, he would be able to see the blade sticking out the other side. He hurriedly fixed his crooked glasses, then looked around frantically.

Vernon was conscious, but laid out on the ground as if thrown back by a great force. Petunia and Dudley were kneeling beside him, huddled together. The man, he saw, was nowhere to be found. The room was so dark, Harry could barely make out their expressions of fear. The light from outside didn't filter in that well, and there were a couple of bright splotches against the ceiling as the light reflected from all the broken glass on the ground. There was, actually, less light than he felt there should have been, seeing as the front window had been shattered completely.

There was the softest sound from the window; he spun his head to look. He found, much to his alarm, a figure cloaked in black crouching down and balanced precariously on the sill, hood drawn up. It stood slowly, and Harry could not help but think that whoever it was, he was probably around his height- maybe even a little shorter. The light from the street-lamps shone against its back, making it impossible to see its face. He could see the shadows of the person's high boots disappear into the shadow of its cloak, its figure featureless because of the cloak's lack of shape. The head turned slowly, as if looking around the room.

Harry was looking right at it when he saw the red glow from under its hood. He barely contained a gasp into a sharp intake of breath, eyes wide. It was accompanied by a low whirring noise, like from a machine. Reaching for his wand, which had been tucked in his waistband under his shirt, Harry shifted to kneel on his feet, and began to, very slowly, back his way to the doorway just in case he needed cover. He seemed to be completely ignored by this strange new arrival.

The figure almost seemed to float to the ground when it lightly jumped off of the sill, even as it was enveloped in a silver glow that briefly lit the room, and a bright silver cape seemed to materialize around it from thin air. As it moved, silent as a ghost to the center of the room, he noticed the cape had a hood, and what appeared to be a masquerade mask attached to the hood.

"I did not expect to run into an exorcist here," It was the man's voice, a little lower and more gravelly, echoing from all around the room. Uneasy and anxious, Harry pressed his back to the wall, still kneeling, and pulled his wand up to be at the ready.

"You have run out of time, akuma," The silver cloaked figure had a male voice, he noticed, that was startlingly young sounding and just plain startling. He was so completely silent in his movements that his voice seemed to come from nowhere, "I will cleanse your soul."

"I'm not so sure that it is my time that has run out, Exorcist."

Harry felt the air itself change. It was hard to describe, he decided. He saw something then. He was not sure what it was that he saw, but it was almost as if the shadows themselves shifted. From behind the cluster of his aunt, uncle, and cousin came the darkened shape of shadow itself materializing from the wall. He could barely see it, really, and what stuck out the most were the glowing yellow orbs that he assumed were its eyes. Alarmed, he went to yell a warning even as he brought his wand up, but there was no need.

From the middle of the room, the stranger tensed, and then... vanished. No, not vanished, he realized, because he still saw some movement, some kind of silver blur that stopped abruptly before the shadow.

From under the cloak the stranger had raised what Harry wasn't sure was his arm or not, though that's what the basic shape reminded him of. One lone finger was stabbed into the dark space between the glowing orbs of yellow light, presumably its head. Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley looked up at the stranger, startled at his sudden appearance before them.

"I...see. What bad... luck," It murmured, scaring Vernon and the other two when they did not expect the voice from directly behind them. Petunia fainted dead away with a breathy sigh.

"I hope you rest in peace," The stranger replied kindly, and gave Harry the impression that he was smiling.

The creature did not explode as its companion did, but instead faded away. The air lifted, and it became a little easier to breathe. Suspicious and worried, Harry gripped his wand a little tighter. Would the stranger turn on him next? Was he friend or foe? He didn't know, and as he started to work himself into a knot, a voice came from above and beside him, sending his heart into his throat because he hadn't heard anyone at all approach him.

"Hurry it up, Bean sprout, we don't have all day," The voice was pretty deep and commanding. Almost tripping himself trying to move too fast, Harry spun to stare up at the new arrival whose footsteps he had not heard in the slightest.

He could not make out the features all too well in the darkness, but he had the longest hair that Harry had ever seen on a man. And he was most definitely male; that was easy to tell from the strong jaw, deep voice, and broad shoulders. He was tall and moved just as silently as the first; holding himself almost arrogantly and gripping something long and slightly curved in one hand. He wore a long black cloak identical to the other stranger's.

"I refuse to speak with an idiot who refuses to say my real name," The first stranger snapped, sounding surprisingly annoyed compared to the kind voice he'd had before. Then he turned to Vernon and Dudley and Harry could imagine that he gave an encouraging smile, "Are you all quite alright?"

Vernon did not answer. His mouth was gaping and he looked absolutely horrified. Dudley was in a similar state, although he looked more frightened than anything, clutching his father's arm in a death grip, his eyes dilated in fear.

"Do they look alright?" Asked the long haired man in an obviously scornful tone, as the first pulled down his hood.

The dim lighting allowed Harry to see a muscle in the others jaw jump as his admittedly young face took on an annoyed glare. His hair was a light gray or white, he couldn't quite tell in the darkness - as bright as an old man's but not nearly as fragile or thin as theirs would be. Whatever the red glow had been coming from, it was gone now - two gray blue eyes stared out at him. One had the strangest mark, but Harry did not have the time or the right light source to analyze it. The long haired one moved past him, to where the sword still stuck out of the wall, and grasped the hilt. With one sharp tug, it was free, and the man wore a frown as he took part of his cloak and wiped the blade, leaving behind a streak of white drywall remains.

Harry did not even notice the approach of the first until he knelt down at Harry's side. His first reaction was to defend himself, but before he had the chance to even flinch away, the boy had his wrist in a soft, but iron hold that held amazing strength. The silver cape was gone, he noticed faintly, and his arm now actually looked like it was supposed to, though covered in a black shiny material.

"Please don't," The boy told him, "We're not here as enemies."

Harry hesitated to take the words at face value, but he was nervous for his wrist – the grip was already starting to make his bones ache and he didn't doubt that a sharp tug could do some serious damage. If that was the case, he could be in big trouble. He forced himself to relax marginally and nod in acceptance, deciding to be wary.

"My name is Allen Walker," The boy said with a small smile, "How's your face?"

Harry reached up to touch his cheek quickly, eyebrows drawn together, and then pulled away with a sharp hiss of pain. He had forgotten about the stinging he'd felt earlier, and although it probably wasn't too bad, or at least he hoped it wasn't, he figured that he'd gotten a few light burns.

"I'll… live," He replied slowly, standing. Allen followed him into a standing position, "What just happened?"

"You just had a tea party that ended spectacularly," The long haired one cut in, sheathing his sword in the long and slightly thin thing he'd been carrying before. He seemed to catch the dirty look sent his way by his partner, because he added, "If you ask stupid questions, you're going to get stupid answers."

"Don't be an ass, Kanda. Not everyone can go through near-death experiences and not be affected," Allen exclaimed. Harry decided not to tell them that he'd had plenty of near-death experiences and that that wasn't really his problem.

The situation was resolved when a streak of light came flying through the open space that had been the window and just barely missed him when Allen nudged him out of the way and took the hit instead. He was thrown from his feet and collided rather painfully with the couch, which then flipped over and threw him to the floor.

Alarmed once more by what Harry recognized immediately as a magic spell, he spun and just barely ducked under another, bringing his wand up once more. From out near the sidewalk, he could see a man that he recognized as a Death Eater. Behind him, he was framed by darkness, as if everything beyond the street had ceased to exist. Then, right before his eyes, he saw from somewhere off to the side what appeared to be a hammer enlarge and slam into the wizard from behind. He could hear the sound of it, and watched as the wizard was slammed forward, landing in the yard and then skidding, pulling up the grass as he went. When he stopped, he was still, and did not stand up again.

With long strides, Kanda swept past him, blocking his view momentarily. He stopped just before the window and went no further. Outside, Harry could see yet another person walk to the still body, wearing the same black cloak as the other two. His hair was a bright strawberry red that first made Harry think of the Weasleys, but he was too tall, his hair too much in disarray, and…was that an eye patch?

"Hey, this is a bad guy right?" The red-haired person called, holding his hand over his good eye as if it were a bright day out and squinting, "Don't tell me I just smashed an ally!"

Harry moved as quietly as he could to the window, but when his feet met the glass littering the floor, his footsteps seemed comparable to gunshots in silence. The other two didn't seem to make any noise at all when they moved like a ghost, and he was a little suspicious about that. He drew up beside the one called Kanda and tried to ignore him when his gaze fell to the side of Harry's head; his look was dark and heavy, and he seemed to subtly shift away. Squinting, Harry could make out the fallen man's form.

"No, you didn't," He called slowly, still unsure about these new strangers, "He's a Death Eater. No way he was any kind of 'ally'."

"Oh, good!" The red head let out a relieved laugh and approached the still person in the yard. He tugged the person up until he hung limply over his shoulder, then walked up to the window between them, smiling.

"Had me worried there for a second. Hey, Alle-,"

"Stop." The boy froze. Allen spoke up only then, "Lavi, that guy's an Akuma."

"Say what?" The body hit the ground with a heavy thump that made Harry wince, "Akuma can't do magic!"

"Said who?" Kanda snapped, leaning his weight onto one leg and appearing for the entire world that he was explicitly bored with the situation, "Since when did you have everything figured out, rabbit?"

"Err, well, I don't. But it doesn't make any sense, does it?" The stranger faltered, looking down at the body and nudging it with his toe, "And Akuma aren't supposed to be able to fall unconscious either. I mean, I didn't hit 'im hard enough to destroy him even if he was, but they've never done that before."

He glanced up with a frown,

"Are you sure?"

Allen's feet crushed the glass on the floor – He no longer moved silently, and the noise seemed to make him appear more human and normal, despite the obvious differences in his physical appearance. He paused just beside Harry and adopted a thoughtful look,

"I'm positive. Maybe it's the result of magic?"

At once, all three turned to look at Harry with a beseeching stare. Startled, he took a step back, putting his hands in the air in the universal sign of defeat, "Hey, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Kanda was the first to turn away.

"Of course he doesn't," he grunted in annoyance.

"Sorry, man," Lavi said with a grin, "Magic is some pretty amazing stuff. Shocking I didn't know about it before."

Confused, the wizard tilted his head to the side. Surely, they knew at least some magic, right? The way they moved, their speed, or at least Allen's, and the strange things about them – That couldn't be normal. They couldn't be Muggle, for that matter.

"You speak like you're unfamiliar with magic, but I've never seen anything like what you just did."

"You wouldn't have," Allen told him, "But it's not magic. Komui said that what we do was often confused for it, but it's not. Not really anyway."

"Komui?"

"Our boss," Lavi explained with a wink.

Harry was all ready to start the questioning; He had the right after all. Several strangers bust into his house, break his window, tear up his yard… his continued life not withstanding, they had a lot to answer up for. But as soon as he started to put his jumbled thoughts in some semblance of order to voice them, an arm wrapped around his head and shoved him down, below the windowsill.

"Stay down!"

He saw from the corner of his eyes when Kanda's legs disappeared as he vaulted over the sill, out into the yard. Allen was covering him as if from war, and as a barrage of lights flew over his head, he knew that this just was not his day.

From the yard, he heard shouting. He lifted his head high enough to see through the shadows of the other side of the room. He had forgotten about his family, but they were still there, now shuffling quickly to the doorway. Vernon was carrying Petunia as well as he could, hands hooked under her arms, but her legs were dragging since they were kneeling so close to the floor. Dudley was trying to help with that by holding her feet, but he was shaking so badly that he dropped them twice before his father snapped at him quietly to forget about it.

Harry's eyes connected with Vernon's, who was sweating and appeared to be in a bit of pain. Grimacing as he was, he was still getting along fairly well. His eyes furrowed and frightened, he froze and stared at Harry like there was something he could say. Harry made a hurried motion for them to leave; His uncle didn't need to be told twice. He slinked into the hallway before bolting away, deeper into the house.

"I don't know if that was the greatest of ideas," Allen whispered into his ear, surprising Harry with his closeness and making him uncomfortable. He did not like how quietly they moved. If they weren't really trustworthy or on his side, then he was screwed. They'd be able to kill him before he even realized he was dead!

"They'll be fine, I'm sure. I bet Vernon will barricade them all in one of the back rooms, or sneak out the back door," He replied softly to cover up his nervousness. He wasn't sure the last part of his sentence was heard, because there was a great explosion that rocked the ground and he lost the precarious balance he'd had, falling onto his backside. Glass sliced a narrow cut into his thumb, but he was otherwise unharmed.

"A wall will hardly make a difference against them," Allen replied, jerked his thumb in the direction of the outside.

"It wouldn't make much of a difference to magic either," Harry admitted, glancing over to see the boy was on his haunches and watching him closely. The shadows made it impossible to make out his features other than the outline of his face, but the red glow was back. Up close, he could see that it was indeed the boy's eye: the red glow was in the form of circles, and there were a couple. Hovering over his eye was what Harry thought were machine cogs with a slightly transparent red film over the middle. There were two, and as he looked, he felt a shiver move down his spine.

Another explosion rocked the ground, and he lifted his head as he moved to his knees. Allen grasped the back of his shirt, but rose to look as well. His eyes peeked outside, and the air rushed out of his lungs in a great whoosh.

It was pure chaos. There were a whole bunch of creatures Harry had never seen before, all round with gun barrels. They filled the yard, and he was aware that there really was a permanent darkness from the end of his sidewalk out, as he'd glimpsed before. All sides seemed to fade into eternal night, and he could see no light beyond. His lawn was ruined, as it was torn up all over and had various burn marks here and there.

Kanda and Lavi were in the middle of it all, slashing and smashing, respectively. He'd never seen anything like it in anything other than the martial arts movies Dudley was fond of watching, and even then, it was usually pretty obvious they were stunts. But as the swordsman leapt into the air, he rose way too high to be possible. On the way down, he flipped, putting his full weight and momentum into a downward strike that took out two of the monsters at once. The resulting explosion forced Harry to duck for cover.

"I don't get how this is happening!" He cried, frustrated. Allen sent him a confused glance, so he elaborated, "There are supposed to be protective spells that keep anything like this from happening around my house! And they're not supposed to fall for another week!"

"Perhaps they weren't as strong as you thought?"

Allen received a not-at-all-amused glare and added, "Or maybe they are. But I imagine magic doesn't affect Akuma the same way it would a normal person. They're not people, they're machines."

That might have been possible, but it was also hard to believe. Harry had seen the first two that attacked him be involved in polite and lively conversation, and they'd seemed perfectly normal, at least for a while. But nothing was impossible – that's what he'd been told several times before. He was confused, anxious, and restless. He couldn't tell what Voldemort had planned this time, but it seemed to be, so far, nothing more than a brute force attack.

"It seems like there's some kind of force field around the house. Aren't there supposedto be people watching out for you, just in case something like this happens?"

"Yes, but I don't know where they could be. If there is some kind of shield, then it'll probably take time to pull it down. Who knows how long that may take?"