Disclaimer: There are many things I do not own. These two worlds and works are among them. The situation is of my own devise (for the most part) as is the writing (for the most part), but all characters (unless I make them up) are the property of the original masterminds for Harry Potter and Kuroshitsuji.

AN: Did they remove the line breaks? I can't find the horizontal line anymore. Block quotes are cool though.

I AM A LINE BREAK. DO NOT FEAR ME, MUGGLES! I COME IN PEACE

Summary: It seems like everyone is after the Boy Who Lived. With a Dark Lord on the rise, a Ministry doing its best to slander his name, and a Headmaster who won't tell him a thing...well, Harry Potter's pretty stressed out. Cue dramatic music, a mysterious crow, and a possible concussion and whole lot is bound to change. Maybe for the better but that's subjective at best.

Black Knight

His Knight, Watching

Air rushed passed the young boy as he rose in an even arc before being tugged gently back to the Earth. The boy tucked his legs under him as he fell backwards and downwards then upwards once more. He stretched his legs outwards as the forward momentum kicked in and swung him back to the ground. It was quiet tonight with only the crickets chirping and the muffled sound of cars charged down the street. The night itself was pleasantly breezy and after the suffocating heat, the boy welcomed the change. He tucked his legs downwards again and allowed gravity to pull him towards the ground.

Distant laughter alerted the boy that, if his luck ran out as it was wont to do, he would soon be having company. He brought the only swing in the small park his cousin and his friends hadn't broken to a halt and stilled. If his luck did hold out, Dudley and his friends (because the group could be none other than them at this time of night) would not notice him sitting there. The group of four boys drew to a stop at the entrance to the park laughing and joking. The boy held his breath. The boys continued on their way without looking back. He released his breath in a soft whoosh and stood up, stretching and rolling his shoulders before sighing.

It was time to head back to No. 4 Privet Drive. If he was any later than Dudley he would be scolded, not that it was anything new to him. Sometimes just being in the same room as his relatives was enough to incite a scolding. Needless to say, he tried to avoid being in their vicinity as often as he could. He set off at a brisk pace and soon he was once again within hearing range of Dudley and his three friends.

"…squealed like a pig, didn't he?" Malcolm was saying, to guffaws from the others.

"Nice right hook, Big D," said Piers

"Same time tomorrow?" said Dudley.

"Round at my place, my parents are out," said Gordon.

"See you then," said Dudley.

"Bye Dud!"

"See ya, Big D."

Their farewells made, they walked their separate ways and Dudley turned onto Magnolia Crescent. To get home first or at least at the same time, the boy would have to walk faster which probably meant acknowledging his cousin. While it might be good way to vent, he couldn't say that he felt like picking a fight tonight. Decision made, the boy quickened his pace until he caught up with his cousin and walked at a steady pace a couple steps ahead. Neither said a word. They were halfway through the alleyway that would take them from Magnolia Crescent to Wisteria Walk when Dudley made the first sound; a shuddering gasp as if he'd had a bucket of ice water dumped over him.

The boy noticed then that the night had gradually deepened before suddenly becoming pitch-black while the air froze around them. The boy twisted around in the dark trying to see a glimmer of light and the source of change. There was nothing.

"W-what are you d-doing? St-stop it!" Dudley's voice broke through the silence again.

"I'm not doing anything! Shut up and don't move!"

"I c-can't see! I've g-gone blind! I –"

"I said shut up!"

It simply wasn't possible for them to be here, the boy thought to himself. This community, the people around him; it was an all Muggle neighborhood. Little Whinging was far from the nearest Wizarding community so there was no reason to for them to be here. They couldn't be. The boy listened anyway, his eyes wide and wary.

"I'll t-tell Dad!" Dudley whimpered. "W-where are you? What are you d-do –?"

"Will you shut up?" the boy hissed, "I'm trying to lis –"

There it was. The boy closed his eyes, trying to steady himself, to find a solution that wouldn't get him expelled from the only place he'd ever considered home. At the other end of the alley the boy's worst fear drew a rattling breath. The boy trembled trying to decide what to do. He pulled out his wand from his pocket. There wasn't much he could do.

"Cut it out! Stop doing it! I'll h-hit you, I swear I will!"

"Dudley –"

Dudley didn't let him finish the sentence before Dudley's fist swung out and connected with the side of his head. The force of the punch lifted the boy off his feet and he swung backward, his wand flying out his hand, before crashing into the ground. The boy groaned before scrambling onto his hands and knees and searching frantically for his wand. If he couldn't find it, there would be no hope for them. He heard Dudley hit the fence and stumble.

"DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!" the boy called out. Dudley squealed (perhaps if the situation weren't so dire he would have laughed at that) and his footsteps stopped. "Too late to turn back now, Big D," the boy muttered. From behind him he felt the creeping chill and knew that there was more than one. His luck had officially run out. "DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! Wand!" He continued to search for the tool which would save their lives with no luck. "Where's – wand – come on – Lumos!"

The wand tip miraculously lit and he snatched it before standing and turning towards the mouth of the alley. Gliding towards him was a hooded figure shrouded in a tattered cloak and greedily drawing in gasping breaths. It was nearly seven feet tall and thankfully no flesh was visible in the darkness. A dementor. The boy had encountered them before and could drive them away, especially now that he had his wand, all he had to do was summon a memory, a happy memory, and "Expecto Patronum!"

The dementor slowed at the silvery wisp produced by the spell. The memory wasn't powerful enough and it was beginning to be impossible to think of anything capable of producing a happy thought through the piercing cold. The dementor reached out a rotting gray hand.

"Expecto Patronum!"

It was a weaker attempt than the first and then came the high pitched laughter as the dementor's fingers closed around his throat. The laughter was soon replaced by a voice belonging to the same person speaking inside his head – "Bow to death, Harry…It might even be painless…I would not know…I have never died…"

He thought of his friends, Ron and Hermione holed away together. Fragments of their letters drifted into his mind. "We're quite busy but I can't give you details here…" "We've been told not to say anything important in case our letters go astray" "There's a fair amount going on, we'll tell you everything when we see you…" He'd never see them again.

He bet they were together now; Ron with his stupid lopsided grin and Hermione's wild hair framing her smiling face and warm brown eyes. He struggled to take his breath and let it out in rush.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A silver stag burst from the wand tip and drove the dementor off. Harry collapsed to the ground and with a flick the stag turned and charged down the alleyway to free Dudley from the dementor's grasp. With that dementor's departure, the stag dissolved into a silvery mist and light and heat flooded into the area. Harry stayed on the ground, allowing warm air to infiltrate his body and regain control of his breathing. Several feet away Dudley lay curled on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Better than I was my first time, Harry thought vaguely as his eyes drifted closed.

As it were, he didn't see the crow launch into the night and even if he had, he wouldn't have expected it to change his life. When he did come to, it was to the sound of footsteps running into the alleyway. Mrs. Figg appeared at the mouth of the alley, winded and panicked. She spotted Harry as he pushed himself into sitting position and made to put his wand away. "Don't put it away, idiot boy!" She shrieked. He hadn't known the old neighbor was capable of hitting those frequencies. "What if there are more of them around?" If that were the case he would be dead. "Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"

It didn't take very long for Harry to find out that Mrs. Figg was a Squib who worked for Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry which Harry had been attending for the past four years. It also didn't take very long to find out that the headmaster had set up a guard to watch Harry and that Fletcher was supposed to be his guard for this evening. He had to admit though, the fogginess had yet to fully lift and Harry was exhausted. Nearly carrying Dudley back to No. 4 Privet Drive was not helping matters. At least he'd been back on his feet within minutes. If Dudley didn't look quite so green, Harry would have thought his larger cousin was hamming it up.

He did his best to stifle a yawn as Fletcher yelped.

"Ouch – gerroff – gerroff, you mad old bat! Someone's gotta tell Dumbledore!"

"Yes – they – have!" Mrs. Figg continued swinging a bag full of cat food in tin cans at the man who had shirked his duty. Harry watched, bemused. "And – it – had – better – be – you – and – you – can – tell – him – why – you – weren't – there – to – help!" Harry winced in sympathy as the last blow fell.

"Keep your 'airnet on! I'm going, I'm going!" He Disapparated with a sound like a car backfiring. It was the second time Harry had heard that sound tonight. He shook his head.

"I hope Dumbledore murders him!" Mrs. Figg hissed. "Now come on, Harry, what are you waiting for?"

Harry didn't say that he was waiting for her, nor did he say he was rather hoping Dudley would come to already. Dudley Dursley was almost three times as wide as Harry and considerably heavier. Perhaps sometime last year this task would have been easier but now there was also a good deal of muscle underneath his cousin's fat from his new hobby, boxing. Apparently it was something Dudley was actually good at and the larger boy had become the Junior Heavyweight Inter-School Boxing Champion of the Southeast. He staggered under his cousin's weight and maneuvered his cousin towards the house.

"I'll take you to the door," Mrs. Figg said as they finally reached Privet Drive. "Just in case there are more of them around…" Harry didn't say that she'd be better off at home if there were more of them. "Oh my word, what a catastrophe…and you had to fight them off yourself…and Dumbledore said we were to keep you from doing magic at all costs…Well, it's no good crying over spilled potion, I suppose…but the cat's among the pixies now…" Harry had to admit, he liked that last one. It reminded him of Crookshanks and the Cornish Pixie incident his second year. Crookshanks would have enjoyed that class activity immensely.

"Right…get inside and stay there," she said as they reached the door. "I expect someone will be in touch with you soon enough." Mrs. Figg looked around her, her arms wrapped around herself as she took in their surroundings. "I'm going straight home. I'll need to wait for more instructions. Just stay in the house. Good night."

Harry didn't call after her. He just nodded and said a quiet farewell. Then he readjusted Dudley to free an arm and rang the doorbell. Aunt Petunia's shrill cry of alarm breached the night.

"Diddy, what's the matter?"