I've had this crossover idea for a long time now, so I finally decided to type it up. It's a rather ambitious undertaking, especially considering the hard classes I'm starting soon, but hey- I'm bored :)
This first chapter will introduce the Naruto, Harry Potter, and Black Butler fandoms. Full Metal Alchemist will be introduced in the next couple chapters.
Draco seems kinda like a satellite right now, but he'll get a better role really soon. :)
Please review with any suggestions or comments you may have c:
WARNING: Sexual hints/themes throughout. Scenes of semi-graphic violence. General disturbing scenes. Viewer discretion is advised.
DISCLAIMER: The Harry Potter series and all associated characters are the property of J.K Rowling. Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji) and all characters are the property of Toboso Yana. Naruto and all associated characters is the property of Masashi Kishimoto. Full Metal Alchemist and all associated characters is the property of Hiromu Arikawa. I don't own any of these series or any of these characters, nor do I make any money off writing this fanfiction. I am writing this to amuse me. That's all. Thank you for your time.
~Draco Malfoy, Malfoy Manor~
Draco Malfoy was bored out of his mind. He lay on the floor beside the crackling fire, head propped up in one hand. His other hand held a length of yarn, tugging it along for his cat to chase. Its yellow eyes were fixed, concentration unbreakable- Draco only wished he were so easily amused.
He heard the familiar bang of the front door opening. He jerked into a sitting position immediately, ears perking up. They didn't often have guests here at Malfoy Manor, let alone guests that simply walked in the front door.
Draco stood up, the yarn falling from his hand. The cat went on attacking it, tangling the green thread in its long claws and letting out a little mewl. Draco moved to the parlor door, and nearly wound up with it slammed in his face.
He saw his father in the doorway, speaking in that low, sultry tone that had captivated so many people. With him were two people bundled up in heavy coats against the late autumn cold. Flecks of snow were caught on their clothes and in their dark hair.
"..Very glad you could come, Fugaku. It's certainly an honor to meet the head of the Uchiha family in person."
"Yes, I'm sure," Fugaku replied, sounding profoundly bored. "Let's get to business, shall we? I don't exactly have a lot of free time on my hands."
"Of course," Lucius said, taking on a crisp, businesslike tone. "If you'll come this way, we can talk in private."
The man named Fugaku gave a curt nod.
"Fine. Itachi, you stay here- I won't be long."
The boy nodded obediently- and with that, the two men departed, leaving Draco alone with him. He gave the other boy- Itachi- a once-over with his eyes.
He was a couple years older than Draco- who was almost eight at the time. Maybe twelve or thirteen. His skin was pale as parchment, though a shade or two darker than Draco's almost ghostly pallor. Two deep lines seemed etched across Itachi's cheeks, like permanent tear tracks. Coal black eyes were framed by thick, dark lashes- the same color as his long, raven hair that made a sharp contrast to Draco's white-blond. Those dark eyes seemed to take in everything, like a hawk.
He was slender, and taller than average for his age, though he seemed shorter, as he slouched as if he had a heavy weight on his back. His thin pink lips were pulled into a half frown as he looked around the lavish room.
Itachi sat himself in a plush, black velvet armchair- the one with silver embroidery on the arms- without bothering to remove his coat. He pulled a book from the bag at his side, opened it to the folded-down page, and began to read. He did not appear to have noticed Draco at all.
Draco sat cross-legged by the fire, waiting to be noticed, waiting to be acknowledged.
He coughed, scratched his sleek blond head, hummed a tune off-key, but Itachi didn't flinch.
Draco watched the boy's eyes move across the page, so fast they were almost a blur.
After a few minutes of this, Draco was fed up. He was not going to be ignored.
"Oi!" He snapped. "Can't you talk?"
The boy looked up, barely avoiding Draco's blue eyes, only betraying the slightest hint of annoyance.
"Well, why've you been ignoring me then?" Draco demanded.
"Why haven't you said anything, then?"
"I don't like talking."
Draco raised an eyebrow and cocked his head, bird-like.
Itachi gave a little sigh, folded down his page, and closed his book.
"It frustrates me. It seems like I can never make my thoughts come out the way I want to. So, I keep them in here-" He tapped his right temple with one of his long fingers, "-where I know I can't mess them up."
The cat padded across the soft carpet and hopped into the armchair beside Itachi, seeming oblivious to his dampness. Itachi reached, absentmindedly, to scratch the cat behind the ears. It rubbed against his hand, and purred. Draco noticed the criss-cross pattern of scars across the pallid skin. Itachi nodded.
"How'd you get those?" Draco asked.
"I do dangerous work."
Comprehension was beginning to dawn on the younger boy. And it was exciting.
"Your family aren't wizards, are you?" He asked. "You're one of those people- a shinobi, or whatever they're called."
"My father talks about you people." Draco's whole body was tingling in excitement, blue eyes positively alight. His voice dropped to a low, conspiratorial tone. "Is it true that you can do magic without a wand?"
Itachi shrugged his scrawny shoulders.
"I suppose. If you want to call it magic," he replied, deadpan.
He returned to his book, still scratching behind the cat's ears.
Draco's heart was fit to burst. He'd heard father talk to mother about shinobi, about the Uchiha (And Itachi had to be one of those. His father only talked with the best), about all the amazing things they could do with just their eyes. Shinobi, the people who could create fire with their breath, move so fast they could barely be seen, some of the most powerful people in the world...they'd almost seemed too good to be true. But here, right in front of Draco, was an honest to God, real life shinobi.
Itachi looked up and over his shoulder. muffled shouting noises were coming from down the hall, growing closer all the time.
"You said you were sure he was dead, not two years ago, Lucius."
"Things change. I believe that he will return, and believe me, you want to be on the right side when he does."
"It's none of your business what side my family's on."
"An alliance with the Dark Lord will ensure you and your family's protection."
"I don't want to get my family involved in your people's battles. And I couldn't care less about a has-been wizard who was defeated by a child."
Fugaku had an unmistakable sneer in his voice.
"My family can protect ourselves, thank you very much, Malfoy."
The parlor door opened.
"Itachi. We're leaving."
Itachi stood up without question, hurrying to his father's side.
"Forget it, Malfoy. He's finished. You'd best accept that."
Itachi follows Fugaku as he storms out of the room. But as he leaves, he looks over his shoulder, and waves goodbye to Draco, smiling. It wasn't a big smile, but it cleared away the clouds of apathy from his eyes, and lit his face up.
Draco smiled back, his heart feeling bigger in his chest all of a sudden.
"Come back soon," he said, even though he knew that, more than likely, he'd never see Itachi again.
"Goodbye, Mister Malfoy."
~Six Years Later~
Draco watched a spider crawl lazily across his ceiling, listening to the icy rain pound against the roof of Malfoy Manor. His mind drifted from one thought to another, like clouds drifting across the sky.
"I saw him! He's back! Voldemort's back!"
His father had been right, all those years ago. The Dark Lord had returned, after all. His father had given up hope, but it happened after all. It was satisfying, knowing that his father was right.
His father was pacing the floor of his study, talking to his mother in muffled tones.
Their new house elf knocked on the study door.
"Master Malfoy, Mister Uchiha is here." It said, in its squeaky voice.
"Very good, very good," Lucius said. "Let him in."
Draco rolled off his bed, and ran down the stairs to the main entrance. The house elf had opened the door, letting in a man wrapped in a thick black traveling cloak, soaked completely through by the downpour.
"Come in, Mister Uchiha, Master will be with you in a moment."
The man stepped into the house, pulling his drenched hood off his head, confirming what Draco had suspected.
Itachi was taller than he'd been, thinner, more haggard. He gave Draco a little nod of acknowledgement. He then stripped off his wet cloak and handed it to the house elf.
Lucius came down the stairs, long, white-blond hair streaming behind him.
"Itachi, good to see you, good to see you," he said. "I'm glad your master has agreed to discuss an alliance."
"I'm only here because my master is interested in what your Lord has to offer."
"Do you agree with his decision?"
"If a war is coming, I will be glad to be on the right side," Itachi replied.
"Well," Lucius said silkily, "you certainly seem wiser than your father."
"My father was a fool," Itachi said, blinking slowly.
"I'll have my house elf lead you to your room. I trust you'd like to rest after your journey. Or, would you prefer a cup of hot tea?"
Itachi's lips tugged upward a bit.
"Tea would be nice."
"Of course. Paige," Lucius snapped at the little elf. "Prepare some tea."
"Yes, Master," the little elf said, and scurried away.
"Would you like to talk in the sitting room?" Lucius asked.
"I would," Itachi said.
"Can I come too, dad?" Draco asked, eager to hear anything to do with Lord Voldemort. Lucius opened his mouth, closed it, then nodded. Draco followed along.
Paige brought three cups of steaming hot tea. Lucius and Draco added cream as well as sugar, while Itachi only added a copious amount of sugar before he drank it. The whole time, he kept his dark, hawkish eyes on Lucius the whole time, though he avoided looking right at his blue eyes, preferring a place just above.
"The Dark Lord is pleased you have agreed to meet with him," Lucius said, smiling in what was supposed to be a warm way. "He looks forward to meeting the boy who killed his whole family."
"When did you kill your family?" Draco demanded, startled. He had never heard anything like this, never read anything-
"None of your business," Itachi said, in a perfectly pleasant tone. His dark eyes narrowed.
"He also looks forward to forming an alliance with your great grandfather's organization."
"Akatsuki," Itachi began, setting his teacup down, "will not form an alliance barring approval from my master. If he refuses, I am afraid your Lord will be greatly disappointed."
Lucius didn't make any sign that he'd heard Itachi.
"He will be coming to my manor tomorrow in order to speak with you- though he'd prefer to meet with your master in person."
"My master is a busy man. He couldn't come, but I will be reporting back to him."
Draco remembered that Itachi once said he was bad with words. That didn't make any sense, as he seemed to be speaking just fine.
"He will give your Lord an answer as soon as I report back to him."
Draco just watched the proceedings, not able to think of much to say, though it still gave him a sense of smug superiority to be in the room while the others were discussing such serious matters. It made him feel involved, somehow.
"I'm tired- I would like to get some rest now."
"Of course. Paige, escort him to one of the guest bedrooms."
Itachi stood up, and left the room, accompanied by the quivering little house elf. Lucius returned to his study without another word. Draco got up and followed Itachi and Paige up the stairs and through the manor's many hallways.
"Oi, Itachi!" He called after him. "OI!"
Itachi turned his head.
"Oh. You're Draco, right?"
"Yeah, I am. I wanna know why you killed your whole family."
"Not my whole family." Itachi's face went dark. "My little brother is still alive."
"Why'd you do it?" Draco demanded. "I've got to know."
Itachi stopped walking.
"...There are secrets that are best left buried," he said, after a long pause. "Please let them stay buried, where they belong."
Itachi then continued walking, until he disappeared behind a heavy oak door.
~Ciel Phantomhive, the Phantomhive Estate~
"What is this rubbish, Sebastian?" Ciel demanded, slamming down a newspaper on the table. The pictures in the newspaper were moving within their borders.
"It's The Daily Prophet, sir," Sebastian replied, bowing low, dark hair falling in front of his face. "Please read the front page- I believe it will interest you."
Ciel picked it up again and scanned it, looking less bored the more he read.
He Who Must Not Be Named Returns.
In a brief statement Friday night, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be Named has returned to this country and is active once more. "It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself Lord - well, you know who I mean - is alive and among us again," said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters. "It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the Dementors of Azkaban, who have shown themselves averse to continuing in the Ministry's employ. We believe that the dementors are currently taking direction from Lord - Thingy. We urge the magical population to remain vigilant. The Ministry is currently publishing guides to elementary home and personal defence that will be delivered free to all wizarding homes within the coming month."
"Wizards?" Ciel asked, raising an eyebrow. Then he shrugged. "Not the strangest thing I've ever read."
"Nor the strangest thing you have ever seen, young master," Sebastian teased.
Ciel stood up, trademark cane in his black-gloved hand.
"Sebastian, let's go."
"Young master?" Sebastian cocked his head in a bird-like manner.
Ciel smiled. The smile made him seem devilish, mischievous. It was chilling on such a sweet face.
Fitting, though, Sebastian couldn't help thinking. Considering what he is.
There was a flash of red in Ciel's brilliant blue eye. He tousled his azure hair with a toss of his pretty porcelain head.
"I'm interested in this 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," he replied. "The wizards are all terrified of him. I'd like to know why. I would like to know what he's capable of, as well."
Sebastian nodded, smirking.
"Yes, my Lord. Shall we walk, or would you rather I prepare a carriage?"
"We'll walk. But make sure no one's poking around outside, first. Almost a hundred years, and people still won't leave my house alone."
"Right away, my Lord."
A few kids were playing with the long dead rose bushes- they fled as soon as they heard footsteps.
"The coast is clear, young Master!" Sebastian called. Ciel came up behind him.
"Fine then. Let's go."
"Still so impatient, Master."
Together, they strode out, beyond the rusty gates of the crumbling manor Ciel had returned to thirty-five years ago, and hadn't left since. He let it fall apart, as much as it broke his heart, but he must avoid suspicion.
Rumors quickly started going around that the house was haunted by the ghost of the dead Earl Phantomhive- they were mostly right. It was indeed haunted by the Earl Phantomhive; he was, however, a little less than dead.
"Come, young Master," Sebastian said.
"Where are we going?"
"Why, to visit Undertaker. Who better to get information on a murderer than one who revels in death?"
"I suppose so. Sebastian- if this He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named character turns out to be dangerous, we're going to take him down."
A few people stopped or turned their heads to admire the pair as they passed.
"Why, my Lord? Because it's the right thing to do?"
"Of course not," Ciel said, lips twisted in a wry smile. "You see, I've been very bored lately. I haven't done anything interesting since I was the Queen's Guard Dog. I'd like a challenge. I think hunting this so-called Dark Lord sounds fun, don't you?"
Sebastian grinned his sly grin.
"Sounds interesting, my Lord."
Thanks for reading c: Please review, and I'll update hopefully soon.