Twist by Hellhound15

Chapter 2

It was rather fortunate that a baby's underdeveloped body couldn't handle complicated brain signals.

If it hadn't been so, Ciel would have probably thrown the most dramatic temper tantrum of the century. He would then, most likely, beg someone, anyone, to kill him and put him out of his bloody misery already. Being stuck in an uncoordinated infant's body could do that to people.

Fortunately, most of his memories had yet to reappear, only scraps of useless details leaking through and coloring his days.

Like how his mother's red hair should be much shorter, his father's hair was much too messy and that he looked quite odd with glasses. How Padfoot should have been bigger and with white fur instead of black. Or how Moony looked more tired than he had any right to be and that he'd quit smoking and blowing up the kitchen with flamethrowers.

But he mostly ignored those snippets of information, concentrating instead on the multicolored puffs of smoke erupting from the tip of his father's wand. Harry laughed, little fists trying to capture the elusive clouds of smoke.

James picked him up easily and passed him to his mother, then dropped his wand carelessly onto the sofa, stretching like a cat that Sebas-

Little Harry shook his head, before distracting himself by pulling on Lily's red and all too long hair.

BANG!

The terrible crashing sound rang throughout the room even after his father had rushed out. What could it be? Even Bard's cooking wasn't so loud.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off-!"

But James' words were cut off by an unfamiliar voice which uttered strange words.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Oddly enough, his mother had to stifle a sob as the hallway was set alight in a flash of green. She kept running up the stairs, even when there was a heavy thump downstairs. But she screamed when the portkey that was supposed to take them to a safe house didn't work. It was the same rattle toy that Wormtail had been playing around with just yesterday.

Lily's eyes hardened as she pushed chairs and boxes over to the door to jam it shut. She dropped kisses onto his head, while whispering reassurances and sweet nothings into his hair.

The door blew open, the hastily stacked objects proving useless, and Lily set Harry down into his cot, and then turned around to face the hooded person. She threw her arms out wide, blocking the other from her son's view.

Harry stood up, using the bars of the cot for support, wanting to see who the other was. Alas, he was still too short to be able to glimpse the other over Lily's shoulder.

There was a jumble of gibberish too quick for Harry to understand, but from the desperate pleading from his mother, he got the distinct feeling that it wasn't merely a pleasant exchange of words.

The other's voice was slightly raspy and distinctly male, but it had a smooth undertone to it. Perhaps Undertaker was playing dress ups. God knows, he's weird enough for that.

There was another streak of green light and his mother dropped to the ground limply, body half turned in his direction and mouth parted to say one last farewell.

But another image overlapped hers, red reflected in his eyes.

There was so much red.

Red hair, red clothes, red flowing from her chest as she settled lifelessly onto the ground.

Madam Red.

And just like he had centuries earlier, he called for the one who would protect him until the very end.

'Sebastian!'

Green flooded the room at the exact moment Ciel's eye glowed violet, the contract imprinting itself into his iris.

For a second, both battled for the right to survive, before the spell was rebound at the caster, not leaving a mark on the baby.

After all, a demon's power was much more powerful than a mere human's could ever be.

Either that or the Gods just could not be stuffed to reincarnate him again after he'd only just started on his second life cycle.

Dumbledore was sipping his tea, occasionally popping a lemon drop into his mouth, which he had to admit he preferred much more.

It was late at night, and he was in his office, holding one of his monthly get-togethers with his two oldest friends, Nicholas Flamel and Tanaka.

The pleasant silence was only interrupted by irregular puffs of 'Ho Ho Ho's.

That is, until Tanaka abruptly stopped in his drinking of green tea and turned to look out one of Albus' many windows.

"So it seems that Young Master has awoken from his slumbering. The contract has been reinstated, has it not?" The old man asked the black cat curled up at his side. It stretched, lithe muscles rippling under its smooth fur, slitted crimson eyes luminous in the light.

All three men watched it stalked out, seemingly melting into the shadows.

"You are not worried that your cat will get lost?" Albus questioned the silent man.

"Sebastian does not belong to me," Tanaka answered solemnly. "The only one he will ever belong to is to the Young Master."

Suddenly, there was a burst of sound and color from one of his eccentric looking trinkets which set the room alight in an unearthly red glow. The light reflected onto the windows, which caused it to seem as if the sky had been dyed red, coupled with the unnatural shrieking made it as if the Earth itself was bleeding and screaming out in agony. Fawkes arched his neck, stained just as red as all the others.

'Those dyed in red. You have all sinned. It's time to pay up.'

Albus paled; his face nearly the same color as his beard.

The Fidelius Charm on the Potter House had fallen.