A/N: A few people asked if Harry Dresden will in this. Despite the fact that it's a crossover with The Dresden files, I probably won't be including him. Sorry guys, but I'm mainly focussing on the Knights of the Cross and the Order of the Blackened Denarius.

Two Years Later

July 31st

ChicagoUSA

With a tired yawn, Harry blinked blearily and opened his dark green eyes as he awoke from his sleep in his very comfortable bed. He sat up, rubbing his eyes as he threw off the dark silk sheets and pulled himself off his queen-sized bed, letting another yawn escape his mouth. He hopped out of bed, his bare feet landing on a thick and luxurious fur rug as reached onto his nightstand, picking up his wand. He ran his fingers over the grooves of several runes he had carved into the wand and gave it a short, sharp flick as he mentally incanted a spell.

Around the room, over three dozen candles suddenly flared to life, pushing away the darkness and revealing Harry's bedroom. Thick and expensive curtains permanently covered the window, held in place by carefully stitched runes and several wand-spells to prevent any nosy neighbours from peeking in. A very comfortable-looking leather chair sat in the corner, next to a small writing table, where a worn and thick notebook lay open, small symbols and runes inscribed onto the paper next to scrawls of childish writing.

Harry ignored all of this as he walked to the cupboard, opening it up and briefly glancing at himself in the mirror. He sure had grown up since he had arrived here two years ago, cold and shivering. Although he wasn't the tallest kid on the block, and he never would be, Meciel's careful manipulations of his body enabled him to have a high level of physical ability and strength, even if he didn't look like he did. He glanced away from the mirror and grabbed a shirt from one of the shelves, throwing it over his head, putting it on and closing the door.

Harry exited the bedroom and entered the largest room in the apartment. The room, unlike the bedroom, hadn't been dressed up for comfort and remained quite bare and empty. Candles littered the four corners of the room and with another short, sharp flick of his wand; they caught alight in small puffs of smoke, illuminating the room up. A metallic circle that almost encompassed the entire room had been placed on the floor and on the walls, runic symbols had been carved in with far more elegance than one would have expected from an eleven year old. In the middle of this room, there was another circle with several runic symbols protruding outwards. Standing in the middle of this circle was the illusion of Meciel, who raised her eyebrow at Harry with an expression of amusement and affection on her face.

“Good morning, beloved,” The raven-haired woman said, her silver eyes sparkling as she dipped her head gracefully. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, throwing a smile at Meciel as he bent down to frown at one of the runes etched into the floor.

“Did you rest well?” Meciel asked, her lips curving up into a wicked smile. “I do imagine that there were bruises.”

“Oh no,” Harry said lightly. “Last night was just great. I mean, I'm still aching because of some of the things you did to me and I'm sore all over, but I loved it.”

“I'm glad you enjoyed it, beloved,” Meciel said, a smile curving her lips. “I did tell you that I could manipulate your body to feel pleasure…and pain.”

“Oh, there was plenty of that,” Harry said, chuckling roughly as he stood up, finding nothing wrong with the rune.

Meciel let a coy smile come over her face as she cocked her head, eyeing Harry with a sudden challenging look.

“Do you wish to do it again?” She asked softly, watching Harry with narrowed eyes.

“Now?” Harry asked, blinking in surprise. “Right here?”

Meciel nodded and Harry let a smile of anticipation come over his face as he stalked towards her.

Meciel suddenly blurred as her silver and white dressed faded away while Harry concentrated, dark power searing into his veins and through his crude ring, activating and powering the large, protective circle around the room. When he looked up, Meciel had changed her illusion so that it seemed as if she were wearing a set of plain white and silver robes and her hair in a ponytail. She, like Harry, had a slim piece of wood in her hand as beckoned him mockingly as the protective circle in Harry's official 'training room' glowed with a dark crimson and ebony light.

“Ready?” Meciel asked, raising a dark eyebrow as she stared down Harry's wand.

Harry nodded and suddenly jumped back, his wand flying ahead of him as he flicked it in a long, sweeping movement, his eyes suddenly cold and focussed.

“Irruptus Ardor!” Harry bellowed, his voice rising in the room. The tip of his wand glowed with a deep red light and searing bursts of blazing fire shot from his wand as he flicked it across in front of him.

Meciel flicked her own wand, an apparent frown of concentration on her face as she muttered a short, sharp incantation. The air in front of her rippled with a pale green light, a conjured circle of magic forming as the multiple and largely inaccurate blasts of fire ripped through the air. Only two of the eleven or twelve blasts of fire struck Meciel, striking her shield and dissipating with puffs of smokes, the pale green shield rippling with magic as if deflected the fire.

Of course, as an illusion, Meciel didn't really have a wand on her and she wasn't really able to cast a shield, let alone deflect a burst of fire. But, as Harry already knew, she was able to manipulate his mind into perceiving that she had summoned a shield that had deflected his spell, even though Harry knew that in reality the spell had travelled straight past her illusion and struck the powerful barriers surrounding the room. Still, this was the most effective way for Harry to practise his burgeoning skills on a skilled opponent without revealing himself to anybody else.

“Stupefy!” Meciel said loudly, her wand flicking through the air as a streak of scarlet magic zoomed through the air.

Harry didn't even bother verbalising a spell as he slashed his wand through the air, and the streak of magic suddenly flickered and fell apart, disappearing in a shower of silver sparks. His next spell was a thin, sleek streak of bright red magic, crashed against Meciel's shield and creating a rather loud roar through the room as it detonated in with a flare of light.

Meciel's pale green shield shattered with the sound of loud chimes as the flare ended and Harry moved forward, thrusting his wand forward in a vicious jabbing movement, his eyes bright with battle lust.

“Exturbo Arduro!” Harry snarled.

Fire jutted from the tip of his wand, a flashing blast of heat and scorching flames blasting forward. Meciel didn't raise a shield this time and gracefully sidestepped, ducking beneath the blasts of flames. The flash of flames and heat struck the barrier, which shimmered as it absorbed the fire, while Meciel glided forward, her wand flicking out in a powerful underarmed swipe.

A flash burst from the tip of her wand - an arc of glimmering silver magic slicing through the air, and Harry also sidestepped, nearly jumping to the side as the curse brushed past him, He let out a low growl as another silver flash of light zoomed towards him, clenching his wand tightly. He thumped himself in the chest, his eyes half-closed as he concentrated, and suddenly his very form began to glow in a soft red light. The air shimmered around him, rippling with newly formed thermals as the floor beneath his feet began to smoke as an aura of intense heat and magic surrounded him.

The flash of silver arc struck him and shattered into a thousand pieces. Showers of silver and red sparks glittered through the air as the spell broke apart on Harry's aura of heat. Harry smirked and flicked out his hand, the tip of his wand glowing as the aura of heat seeped into his body and roared to the tip of his wand, which glowed with bright light that was building in intensity. He ducked Meciel's next curse, a sizzling bolt of silver magic and rose up again, brandishing his wand with a long, sweeping movement.

“Profundo!” Harry snapped out, his voice sharp and hard.

From the tip of his wand came a powerful jet of crystal clear water. As the water was still in the air, Harry gave a short flick with his wand and jabbed it forwards, and he released the heat inside. The tip of his wand lost its intense glow as it flashed and a wave of searing heat left his wand. There were no flames and no smoke, just a powerful heat that shot forward and struck the water. The instant it did, the water hissed and spluttered as it boiled over and, propelled forward by the pressure of the heat, billowed out into a cloud of steam.

Meciel's eyes widened- she hadn't picked this up in Harry's thoughts, he had taken pain to shield this particular move from her, but she moved quickly as if the steam could have actually hurt her. Her wand whipped up and from it came a great gust of air, parting the billows of steam away from her.

“Very good, beloved,” She called out, her voice smooth and calm. “Remember that you can also channel Hellfire into your wand!”

Harry took her suggestion to heart as he opened himself up to Meciel's powers, the dark torrent of cascading light searing into his very veins. His wand pulsed with dark light and smoke sizzled out of the various runes he had carved into it, a necessary precaution if he didn't want the thing to explode in his face. The tip of his wand glowed in an unholy dark light, shimmering heat pulsing in soft flares as Harry brought it over his head and jabbed it forward, his eyes alight with demonic anger.

A cone of light blasted from his wand, seemingly nothing more than a simple lumos charm. But Meciel had conjured a thick, corporeal medieval shield and ducked behind it as the light came to settle upon her. For a moment, nothing happened, then dark veins of power flickered through the beam of light and the scent of sulphur and burnt wood filled the air as the wood in Harry's wand curdled and smoked, channelling hellfire into the spell. The beam of light suddenly darkened until it radiated with an unholy dark light, crimson veins of red and violet line shooting through it as it pushed against the thick, bronze shield. Harry could feel the suppressed heat of the spell travelling down the beam and onto the shield and watched with anticipation as the bronze shield….remained perfectly intact.

“Er…Meciel?” Harry called over his wand, still pumping the roaring power in his veins into the wand as he pushed against the shield. “Shouldn't the shield be melting?”

Meciel blinked, glancing down, and inclined her head.

“Forgive me, beloved,” She murmured and suddenly, without any warning, thick drops of bronze-coloured sludge dripped to the ground as the cone of light seared into the metal. Harry could feel a few beads of sweat drip from his forehead as the temperature in the room increased but held the spell.

However, with a quick jab of her wand, Meciel banished the remains of the melting shield into the path of the spell and with a single fluid movement, Meciel ducked underneath the shield and sidestepped, coming up with her wand levelled at Harry. Her voice barked out a single command and from the tip of her wand came another one of her glimmering arcs of silver, sharp magic.

Harry broke off his spell and like last time, sidestepped, bringing his wand up to cast another spell at Meciel. But this time, the silver arc of razor-sharp magic spiralled through the air, elongating as it flattened out, and one of its edges struck Harry high in the chest. An intense wave of pain swept through his body and he let out a startled scream of pain as he fell to the ground, the pain building up and blinding him to the point where he couldn't even move. Spittle ran down his mouth, his eyes tearing up as he tried to scream, tried to shout, and tried to move at all. He stayed like this for several seconds and then the pain vanished as quickly as it came, leaving Harry in a shivering heap on the ground.

Meciel was suddenly above him, her beautiful features hinting with slight concern as she stroked his sweaty forehead with her hand, which was suddenly blessedly cool. Harry leaned into the touch, his eyes closing as he took comfort from the Fallen.

“That hurt, you know?” Harry mumbled quietly. “Just as much as it did last night.”

“Pain is a wonderful motivator to improve,” Meciel said quietly, stroking his hair back with soothing hands as if it were a familiar movement to her. “In reality, that spell would have killed you. It would have torn through your heart with such force and speed that I would have been unable to heal it.”

Harry grunted, partly in acknowledgement and partly in pain, and tried to get up, but he fell back down to the ground as sighed.

“You know what, I like the floor,” he muttered. “So I think I'll stay here.”

Meciel watched him with something akin to fondness in her eyes and lay down next to him, the warmth of her body wrapping itself around Harry and soothing his aches and pains. For a few minutes, neither said anything to each other until Harry broke the comfortable silence.

“You know, if you had been a real wand-wizard, I would have got you with that last spell,” He murmured cockily.

“Are you certain of that, beloved?” Meciel asked carefully.

“Oh yeah,” Harry said, nodding his head up and down. “The shield would have melted earlier, so I might have gotten them then, but the heat would have burnt their faces off.”

“That is a fair point, beloved,” Meciel agreed. “However, what if they had placed a modified flame-freezing charm around themselves to act as a shield of sorts?”

“I thought that only worked on normal fire,” Harry said, his voice now drowsy and tranquil.

“Yes beloved, with direct contact magical fire will burn through it,” Meciel agreed. “However, the flame-freezing charm would have blocked the heat of the spell.”

“Eh,” Harry muttered and waved a hand. “Whatever.”

“You are getting much better,” Meciel said softly, praise and perhaps a touch of pride in her voice. “But perhaps we should lay off the training for today, beloved? It pains me to see you hurt as such.”

Harry grunted but didn't say anything as Meciel fell into silence. A moment later, Harry allowed a small, wicked smile to curve his lips.

“Sook,” he muttered into the air.

Meciel raised an eyebrow and sat up, her face staring down at him impassively.

“I'm sorry, child?” She asked with a hint of mockery and teasing in her voice.

Harry made a face at her as he lay on his back, his eyes focussed on the wooden ceiling, where runes had been carved to create a silenced and enclosed area. No other person on the floor would have heard the very noisy duel Harry had just participated again, even if it was only against a figment of his imagination.

Meciel rolled her eyes and shook her head in exasperation, but didn't even try to hide her smile of affection as she dispelled her illusion, leaving Harry alone in the large, barren room. After a few more moments, Harry sighed and forced himself to stand up. His work still wasn't over for the day.

HogwartsSchool of Witchcraft and Wizardry

The ancient school stood proudly against the moonlight, lights glittering from its windows and sparkling on the large lake that surrounded it. Although the school was devoid of children, it still radiated a sense of homeliness and laughter, as if the cheers and laughter had somehow been captured and imprinted into the very stone blocks of the old fortress.

Within the school, still hard at work in his office, Albus Dumbledore gave a little sigh of annoyance as he scrawled his name on yet another piece of parchment and placed it aside. He glanced up as his familiar, Fawkes, let out a soft crooning sound and allowed a small smile to come over his face, his eyes briefly twinkling behind his half-moon glasses.

“Yes, old friend, I quite agree,” He murmured, stroking his long, white beard with a gnarled hand. “Sadly, it must be done.”

The phoenix made a noise resembling a sniff as it tucked its head back into its wing and Albus smiled, turning back to the next piece of parchment. He clutched the quill and began to quickly scrawl something in his loopy handwriting when he sensed a presence disrupting one of his wards. He allowed a smile to curve his lips as he continued writing, mentally counting down the seconds it would take the person to reach his door. When he reached zero, his eyes twinkled as he coughed.

“You may come in, Minerva,” He called out, his voice quavering through the room. “The door is, as always, unlocked.”

Minerva McGonagall opened the door and entered the room, and Albus saw that she was, as usual, not impressed by his little games. It was a pity, too, Albus thought. When one reached his age, games like these were what made life enjoyable.

But his pleasant mood shattered when Minerva threw down a letter on his desk, sealed and unopened, and his heart sank. He didn't have to even read the front to know who the letter was addressed to, but he did anyway as he turned it over, and the words 'Harry Potter, Location Unknown' flashed at him in emerald ink.

“All of the letters have been sent out,” Minerva said crisply, then gestured to the letter in his hand, her eyes face softening. “Every letter apart from this one, Albus.”

“Then Harry Potter did not receive his letter,” Albus sighed wearily, his age showing as he slumped into his seat, his face suddenly gaining wrinkles as a tired frown appeared on his face.

Minerva took a seat, her back straight and stiff as she continued talking.

“The owl took the letter and started to fly around the castle, uncertain of where to go. It did this several times for at least half-an-hour before it suddenly started flying in a direction. I thought it had found him but less than a minute later, it came back, screeching in fear. I found it hiding in the owlery and it won't come out. Hagrid had a look at the poor thing and said that something must have spooked it badly.”

“Then Harry is still being hidden away from us,” Albus murmured, steeping his fingers together and resting his chin in his hands. “And we still cannot find him.”

“None of your spells have been able to find him,” Minerva said and placed a comforting arm on Albus', her face soft with sympathy. “Are you even sure that he is still alive?”

“I do not believe fate would let Harry Potter die so easily,” Albus replied, a touch of mystery appearing in his voice and his eyes twinkled briefly with unspoken secrets. “No, he is still alive, I am certain.”

Minerva frowned but nodded her head slowly, trusting his judgement and word.

“But regardless if he is alive or not, Harry will not be coming to Hogwarts this year,” She said and her voice grew brisk as she continued. “Now, we need to talk about the stone and how we are going to protect it.”

Albus slowly nodded and the age drained from his face as he focussed his mind on the more immediate situation, schemes and plans already forming up as he turned to his deputy and began speaking.

Chicago

Harry was in the middle of his breakfast, thick and golden pancakes coated with maple syrup, when there was a sharp rap on his door. He sighed, dropping his fork, and stood up from his small kitchen. As he made his way to the front door, he whipped his wand out and flicked it sharply, his mind barking an incantation, and the door to the large training room closed with a soft click, hiding it from view.

“Who is it?” He called out as he neared the door, irritation lacing his voice.

“It's Adam,” The voice on the other side called, an older man by the sounds of the voice. “I need to talk to you.”

Harry raised his eyebrows with slight surprise as he unlatched the door, tucking his wand up his sleeve and opening the door. Outside, in the dim hallway, stood a man in his fifty's with greying hair and a portly face. Harry cocked his head and a polite smile suddenly appeared on his face.

“Good morning, landlord,” He greeted cheerfully, a beaming smile on his face.

“Ah, good morning Harry,” The landlord said uncomfortably, shying away from Harry's gaze as he fidgeted nervously on his feet. “Do you…um…have a minute or so to talk?”

Harry nodded slowly and stepped out the apartment, his eyes flickering up and down the hallway, but he was alone and he allowed himself to relax a smidgen. He turned back to Adam and gestured for him to continue.

“The thing is Harry,” The man began, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “I like you. You're quiet, non-demanding, you don't have a lot of noise and you never bother me for anything. You're a good kid who's made the best out of his parent's death. I still don't know why you came to this apartment, I mean, with your inheritance, you could have gone to the very best place in all of Chicago.”

“I like this apartment,” Harry said, shrugging and smiling. “It's…quaint.”

“It's not that quaint,” The man said quickly, shaking his head. “I mean, you don't even have electricity in their. I don't even want to know how you keep your food cold.”

“I order out a lot,” Harry admitted. He frowned, his brows furrowing as he stared at the man in front of him. “What's the problem, Adam? You seem…jumpy.”

“I can't keep you here anymore,” The man said abruptly. “I just landed this new deal with the council and it's technically illegal to have you here. If they find out that I helped you forge the paperwork to this place, I could loose the deal. I think….I think you should move out.”

Harry blinked, surprise and dismay showing on his face. He let his emerald eyes glisten as he stared at Adam with total shock and betrayal, who glanced away, a guilty look on his face.

“Y-You're joking, right?” Harry said slowly, his bottom lip trembling. “Your kicking me out?”

“Look, Harry, you've got plenty of money,” Adam said quickly. “I'm sure you can find another place soon enough.”

Harry didn't answer him as he opened his apartment door and went inside, leaving the landlord in the hallway alone. For a moment, Adam hesitated, as if he considered going in after him, but he sighed remorsefully and turned away, ready to leave. But the door opened again and Harry stepped out, his hand clamped around a wad of hundred-dollar bills.

“Will this cover next months rent?” Harry asked, letting a hint of desperation and vulnerability to show on his face as shoved the money under Adam's nose.

Adam blinked with shock and with trembling hands, slowly took the money, counting it roughly in his head as he thumbed through it. He eyed Harry hesitantly, and seeing the pleading expression on the young boys face, sighed.

“Sure, Harry, this covers next months rent,” He said slowly. “I'm sorry for distressing you like this. I hope you have a wonderful day today.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, allowing a beaming smile of gratitude to appear on his face. He turned to step back into his apartment when Adam spoke up again.

“Oh, Harry? I know its not you, but there have been some reports of some pretty major armed robberies up in the northern suburbs of Chicago. They say it's a kid behind it, described a bit like you actually. Just be careful and make sure you keep your nose clean. I wouldn't want the police to be knocking around here, alright?”

“Cross my heart,” Harry said, thumping a hand on his small chest as he dazzled the man with another beaming smile before he closed the apartment door.

The instant he did, his smiled dropped and a look of irritation and annoyance appeared on his face.

“Arsehole,” He muttered as he locked the door and made his way back into the kitchen. “Where the hell do you think I got the money from in the first place, moron?”

He eyed his now-cold breakfast with a look of disgust and with a flick of his wand, sent the plastic plate flying through the air and into the rubbish bin. He sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair. He had just given the old man over three-quarters of his money, triple the rate of which he normally paid for the apartment. He would need to scout some areas to obtain some more money, but first, it was time to see a fairy about a demon.