Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or Harry Potter, they belong to Noriaki "Tite" Kubo and J.K. Rowling respectively. I make no profit from this fanfiction, well, besides the joy I find in writing it. =3
SETTING and Alerts: The HP side starts from around the end of book five. The divergence is at the department of mysteries scene, but I will be touching on facts from all books, so spoiler alert. For Bleach, assume anything through the end of the whole Aizen fiasco fair game. The differences in the original stories and mine should be fairly easy to spot and will be covered sooner rater than later. Thanks and enjoy...^_~
IVX: Edited 9/04/16 Thanks to my loyal and awesome reviewers, I have decided to finally do this story the justice it deserves. I'm going to be editing my spelling/grammar errors. Thank you to all my lovely fans. Your kind and motivating reviews inspired me to do this. Happy reading to you all and I hope you get the chance to fall in love with this story all over again... I know I will 3
~ CH 1 - Hollowed be thy Name ~
The once great structure which housed the strongest force to ever grace Hueco Mundo lay in ruins. The false daylight provided by Las Noches had faded with the destruction of Aizen's strong hold and the rubble was illuminated solely by the eternal moon light. The area was still as death, save for the small clouds of dust stirred by the desert wind. The Shinigami and humans had long since stepped through their own form of garganta, moving on with their lives and believing completely in their utter destruction of the traitorous ex-captain's forces.
A lone figure lay near the center of the rubble in a pool of liquid crimson. The once vibrant green handle of his sword, now stained brown with his own blood, was still grasped loosely in his hand. Iridescent green eyes stared unblinkingly up at the dark sky. For any one who looked upon Ulquiorra Cifer, he looked just about as deceased as one can get.
The grim stillness of this death bed was suddenly disrupted by the smallest twitch of green orbs. The eyes that a moment ago appeared to see nothing were now focused on the surroundings. Left, right, down... with no movement or power detected in any direction, Ulquiorra finally moved more than his all seeing emerald eyes. It was not with ease that the former Cuatro Espada sat up, but it was surely more than one would believe an assumed corpse should be able to do.
Ulquiorra grasped at the deep slash across his torso, his supposed death blow, inflicted by the substitute shinigami Ichigo Kurosaki. He coughed softly causing blood to trickle down his chin. The green eyed arrancar merely wiped it away smoothly with the back of his hand. His dark brows lowered slightly at a twinge of pain as he shifted, but he bore his grievous wounds with no further signs of discomfort. His right hand clutched his sword tighter and he stabbed it into the ground. Using Murcielago as support, he managed to stand on unsteady legs. Droplets of blood rained down around his feet as he took a step and his footing faltered.
Ulquiorra dropped down to one knee and gave his wound a long stair. This was the closest to annoyed he would show to the outside world. 'I think I am perhaps the only hollow with two masks.' He thought absently as he forced his body to heal more rapidly. He would use his healing ability and be rid of the annoyance as quickly as possible. The arrancar had waisted enough of his long suffering life in this place and he was ready to move on. As patient and calm as he had become over the many years in Hueco Mundo, he couldn't help the tug of anticipation he felt to finally be over with this charade. Ichigo and his fellow shinigami had done splendidly with the cards he dealt them and Aizen's threat to the living world was no more. Ulquiorra had but one more thing to do and he could finally be at peace.
His wound was healed sufficiently enough to no longer be a hinderance and he waisted no time. He sheathed his sword in a fluid motion and, with what was left of his strength, Ulquiorra opened a garganta to the gateway that would allow him home.
The timelines would soon converge and his future would finally catch up to his past.
June 1996 - Department of Mysteries
Harry and a handful of his most faithful friends had thrown themselves into a situation they hadn't truly comprehended. Thinking they were strong enough to take on Voldemort and his forces, the band of teens had charged into the ministry of magic to save Sirius Black from the clutches of the most powerful dark wizard in history. They were so very, very naive.
The group of DA students were just lucky the adults had come in time to save their butts from total annihilation. This opportunistic turn of events held more than just being rescued for one Harry Potter, though. He was standing along side his god father fighting for his life, yet some how it was enjoyable for him. 'There must be something wrong with me.' He thought to himself, but he put the thought in the back of his mind as he dodged a sickle yellow light.
A glance to Sirius told the green eyed teen that his god father was enjoying the rush of the battle even more than Harry was enjoying fighting by his side. The moment of joy inside the torrent of chaos was shattered however. Harry watched in slow motion as Bellatrix said two words that would destroy his last hope of salvation. His kindred spirit and his pseudo-family.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he watched the sickly green light approaching his oblivious godfather. Without a second thought, Harry shoved himself against Sirius, Hard! A shock went through his body and everything just seemed to... dissociate.
Sirius, caught off guard by the assault from his godson, had stumbled to his knees. The older wizard looked back in horror as the realization of what happened sunk in. He sprung to his feet, trying to grasp Harry's body in some attempt to stave off what had already happened. It was not to be. Harry's body had barely began to tilt back before the veil of the archway snatched him up into its folds, steeling his mortal shell from Sirius's outstretched hands. At the last minute, Remus latched onto Sirius and stopped him from being swept along as well. Harry was eternally grateful for his ex-professor's quick thinking.
'Thank god Sirius is ok.' He though in relief. 'It's strange though,' Harry thought, 'that I can see what is happening even though I am positive that was my body that just floated away.' He turned his gaze back to the people who he had come to know in his short life and saw them stricken with grief or disbelief, but before anyone could truly react to their loss, a singsong voice cut through the shock of the collective group.
"I killed Harry Potter, I killed Harry Potter! Hahahaha," came the echo of the crazy witch as she ran away. An enraged Sirius broke free from Remus and tore after his murderous cousin.
Harry was rather calm about this whole being dead thing. He wondered if perhaps he was in shock and then if ghosts could go into shock. Before he had anymore time to ponder the quirks of being a bodiless soul, he felt a strong tug on his chest. When he looked down he was in completely surprised at what he saw, or rather, what he had missed. There was a long chain attached to his sternum and leading in a taut line to the very gateway that had stolen his body away. The chain tugged him more violently and he stumbled closer to the gate. One more pull found Harry being dragged into the veil no matter the force with which he struggled. Dread swept through him as his form became weightless and his view of the dilapidated room dimmed into obscurity.
The place he found himself was dark. It was dark and endless. There was no up or down, no ground, no sky, and no horizon. It just simply was. He had no idea how long he floated in this limbo of a space before he realized he was still being tugged along by the chain on his chest. With one last glance around, he shrugged and decided to follow it. The dead teen pulled himself along, hand over hand, though the dark haze that surrounded him until something familiar met his eyes. It was him.
The chain was attached to the exact same spot on his body as it was on... well, him, his soul he guessed. Then a thought entered his mind, 'If I can just get back into my body, maybe I can come back to life and leave this awful place.' He was just about to attempt entering his body when another thing occurred to him. "What's pulling my body along?" he wondered out loud to himself and that is when the momentum of his body slowed to a stand still, the chain going slack in his hand. "What..."
A hissing noise reached his ears and a moment later a shriveled black creature was lunging at him from the darkness. He used his body as a spring board, being the only solid thing within reach, and pushed away from whatever the grotesque little gremlin was. He flew through the air till his chain once again became taut. The creature was heading straight for him, maw open and ready to sink into him, but it fell short, snapping at him inches from his face. It seemed to gather its self before lunging at him again, this time gaining distance.
Harry just barely managed to dodge and it rocketed past him. Now that he had a clear view of the back of it, he realized it didn't really end. It had a stretched, tail like appendage that stretched all the way... back to... his body... his scar. In his shock the thing managed to lock onto his shoulder and he cried out in pain. In reflex to the pain, he swatted the thing away and pulled on his chain, bringing him back to his body completely. "Aha!" he cried, thankful his wand had somehow managed to stay clasped in the hand of his body.
The teen quickly snatched at the wonderful piece of wood, but the moment he tried to pull it from his body's fingers, he pulled something out from within the wand. At first a handle materialized, covered in green wrappings... a hilt. The rest quickly melted away from the hilt, forming a sword as it went. A sharp pain shot through him from his side. The evil little thing had attacked again. Harry tilted the sword and stabbed at the thing bitting him. He felt it sink into flesh and heard an anguished and unnerving wail, but as the black tail seemed to disintegrate Harry realized he had done it. He had killed what ever it was that had been cursing his scar and attacking him.
His victory was short lived however. The minute the thing had completely disappeared, gravity seemed to kick in and he found himself falling to some unseen ground. In a panic he released the sword to use both hands to grab onto his body. He desperately tried to re-enter his body, but he just couldn't get the momentum he needed to force entry in the midst of his free fall. He didn't stop trying though. Every second brought him closer to impact with... something... He felt if he could just become living again, he could make it out of the dark and back to his loved ones.
Horror filled him as something finally came into view below him. It was some sort of stone floor, but he didn't focus on the details. He just pushed off of his body, trying to perhaps tug it the way that unknown gremlin-like thing had, but his body just continued on its perilous downward spiral. The attempt did give him a realization though. It was his body weighing him down, pulling him towards the sure impact. He had to get rid of it. He didn't know how this ghost thing worked, but if that thing biting him made him feel pain then he certainly didn't want to know if an impact from ungodly heights would kill him... again.
But how to get rid of his 'dead weight'? He looked around hopelessly for anything that could help him and that's when he saw it. The sword that had been born from his wand seemed to be floating just within arm reach. Harry looked back to the closely approaching ground and made his decision. His hand shot out, wrapping around the hilt tightly. With one mighty swing he cut straight through the chain.
The change in momentum was instantaneous. It was as if gravity had changed its mind and decided to reside in the sky instead of under the ground. Harry's body continued in its previous direction, but the Harry that was aware, the spirit Harry, began to rush in the exact opposite direction at twice the speed. He reached out to his rapidly disappearing body and realized immediately he had made a grievous mistake.
He felt as if he were dying. His actual death had been less painful than what he was suffering through at the moment. After he got over the initial pain he looked to where he had cut the chain and the links were eating themselves? "Oh come on! What does that mean?" He shouted into the darkness.
Through out the fall, link after link fell away until only a few were left. In one last rush they disintegrated as one and that is when the real pain started. Pain like none he had ever felt before coursed though him. It wasn't just that it felt like his whole body was being burnt, stabbed, and peeled... oh no, it was much more than that. It seemed as if every sad moment, angry feeling, painful memory, and even all the slightly unpleasant thoughts he had ever felt in his life all coalesced into a dull knife that was slowly carving out his heart with a rusty blade.
He resisted whatever it was that was happening. He fought for all he was worth, but it was just so overwhelming. Tears pored down the teen's cheeks in his fierce anguish. Suddenly he was being choked and blinded in one eye by a thick white substance. It burned and tortured in ways a person couldn't even imagine. He could feel it consuming him, eating him alive.
At some point, he couldn't remember when, he had released the sword to grasp his at his horridly painful body, but oh how he wished he hadn't. He just wanted to end it, the overwhelming suffering. Since he had let his easy-out slip through his fingers, all he could do now was pray to whatever would listen that the ground would come mercifully quick. Even the death of his soul, not existing, seemed wonderful in comparison to the hell he was experiencing now.
It seemed his prayers had been answered when he attempted to rip the white substance from his face and his vision was filled with a sea of white sand beneath him. "Finally..." he rasped out before the pain reclaimed him and tears blinded him. 'Sweet, sweet release.' He tried to focus on that thought through his involuntary screams of pain as the white substance reclaimed him.
With a thundering boom, his body struck the sand and fell straight through, crashing through gigantic tree limbs until he finally landed with a sick Crack! against the stone floor. 'Why?' He cried in his mind as screams of pain occupied his throat. 'Why won't it end?!' Unnoticed to him, an object was falling through the hole his spiritual body had made in the above ground and it was heading straight at him.
The white substance had nearly consumed his face completely when sword finally caught up to master. It plummeted toward him, blade down, at an astounding rate. The sword struck in the dead center of the hole his missing chain had left in his chest. The moment the metal struck through him, the white substance on his face seemed to be blown away from it and the pain stopped for a scant second.
Then, in a blinding flash of brilliant green, he was consumed by overwhelming energy. His tear tracks flared with the excess spiritual energy being releasing and burned themselves permanently into his face. The sword slowly sank into the hole of his chest and for each inch of sword that disappeared, an inch of completely hardened mask appeared. When the last of the swords hilt disappeared and the mask was complete, a gargantuan spiritual power wash over the surrounding area like a tidal wave. Even Menos Grande were crushed under its immense power. This was the birth of one of the rarest hollows in existence. Harry had died and been reborn a Vasto Lorde.
IVX: How you like it so far? Good I hope. I wanted to give another take on the Harry is Ulquiorra theme. There aren't a lot of them out there, but it just called to me so strongly. I'm just addicted to creating new stories, el sigh. Well, anywho, thanks for reading and please leave me a review so I know your thoughts. Thanks!... ^_~