Chapter Text
Harry Potter was a young boy at the tender age of eleven - exactly eleven if one were to ask, as it was his birthday today. And what a birthday it had been! The first minutes of the day he'd been sure not to get even a single present, and then.. the biggest man ever had knocked down the hut's door they'd been hiding in and shaken his life for good.
What had they been hiding for, then?
That was another thing Harry had found out only recently: he was a wizard! A real life wizard with a magic wand and everything; he could even show his brand new holly wand if someone were to ask for proof. Not that most would believe him, of course. Apparently witches and wizards hid away from non-magical people, muggles, and had their own towns and governments. Harry thought it sounded a bit paranoid maybe, but also very clever. One had to only think about his uncle and aunt's reactions to know why the magicals were keeping to themselves. Harry had known all his life they didn't like him one bit, but hadn't known the reason, which was a simple 'you're a wizard (freak) Harry'. And freaks should be beaten to rights and not to ever let them know of their powers.
That made him sad for a moment as he stood just outside the Leaky Cauldron where Hagrid had left him at with his new school trunk and owl chirping merrily in her cage. A bit peculiar if one were to ask Harry - that Hagrid would just leave him there after the shopping (and even buying him an owl as a gift), but he did have that 'something important' from Gringotts, so of course it went over Harry to be delivered to safety. Again, he felt a bit dejected to be left alone so soon after he thought someone would finally care for him, but seeing Hedwig's kind eyes looking at him lifted up his sour mood and Harry decided to wander around a bit - it wasn't like the Dursley's would miss him at dinner. And when he thought about it, no one had cared for him earlier, so why would he think it'd change now simply because apparently he was well known in the wizarding world. Yes, so he shouldn't expect anything from this new magical world and just learn what he could before someone decided Harry wasn't meant to be a wizard and banished him from the wizarding world. Then he'd really have no place to welcome him!
Glad he had a plan now, Harry began trodding along the busy roads with his snowy white owl and big trunk, which was spelled feather-light thanks to Harry's shy question at the store of 'how he'd be able to move it if it was filled with heavy books and cauldrons'. A runecarving later and his trunk would last longer as feather-light than with a spell, which would wear off after some time. Harry was quite proud of himself for having asked that because usually he kept to himself for a reason as simple as that most people around him seemed to hate him for a reason or another. Now Harry knew it was his relative's doing and that normally people were kind, well, at least to customers, but kind and helpful and not at all scary, even though they were mean looking like goblins at the bank or towering and scary like Hagrid who was very kind, if not always aware of his enormous powers. Pleased overall with his broadening worldview, Harry walked with a smile on his lips when he spotted a colorful little shop not far from the Leaky Cauldron which sold all kinds of tex-mex food.
Not knowing what kind of shop it was, but lured in by the curious looking food, Harry walked in and soon found himself waiting outside as apparently owls weren't appropriate customers while his 'chimichanga', whatever that was, was being made. He had some muggle money, too, as he'd need to pay for a cappie to take him back to the Dursley's. Pouncing a little on his heels, Harry couldn't wait to eat a meal all to himself! That had never happened before! It was always just burnt bacon and toast if even that, and these chimichangas were bound to be much better than burnt toast.
It was not long after that Harry continued walking along the road with one hand towing the trunk and Hedwig along, while the other was holding his yummy-smelling chimichanga. It was as good as it smelled, Harry decided after taking a careful bite, the best food he'd ever had in fact. He wasn't afraid to admit he hmm-med as he ate, it was so good! During such a blissful moment, a strange, almost pitiful sounding moan caused his head to snap up.
Aaaalll the way up, to stare at the masked face of a man at least twice his height.
After Hagrid it wasn't such a surprise, but the red and black suit was, though even his surprise over that was wearing thin as he'd just been in a alley full of people in robes and other strange clothes. What did concern him though, was the hungry look the man was sporting over his meal.
"Oh my sweet panties, finally", the man sighed dreamily and made grappy hands at Harry's chimichanga, before seeming to notice Harry watching him wearily, after which he straightened up and coughed a little before going for a cheery,
"Hey kiddo, 's that a chimichanga?"
"Ye-s", Harry replied cautiosly, shielding the wrap better with his hand and body from the greedy eyes. It was his first meal! He wouldn't just give it to the man, he thought petulantly.
"Aah, just as I thought! A chimichanga! Chii-mii-chan-ga! Fi-nal-ly!" the man sung and squealed like a teen girl Harry had seen at school (they were peculiar, just like the man), "I was almost sure they wouldn't have them on this side of the pond.."
Again, the man was making grappy hands at Harry's food, which really didn't sit well with Harry, so he cleared his throat a bit and levelled the man with a hard stare while moving the food away. The man noticed and explained seriously while waving his hands around perilously for Harry's food as they almost flung it away from his grasp.
"Oh, no, nonono. Me don't go stealing from little kiddos! Deadpool's a cool chap with kids - but not that much with adults, if they are bad adults you know? The thieving, stealing kind? Those me go stealing from (their lives I mean)", the man whispered the last part watching away from Harry like he couldn't hear clearly what was being said. Harry was more and more certain the man was some kind of magical - or a lunatic, but if that was the case, surely the muggles would have shipped him off long ago, right?
"So what do you want with me if not my food?" Harry asked, trying for polite even though he was still feeling protective over his food.
"Where'd you get it? I want one too, my chimichanga count is low right now and I desperately need one. You're a heaven sent, kiddo, I tell you!" the man whined, looking half terrified at the prospect of not getting a chimichanga. Harry relaxed visibly from the answer and smiled at the man kindly, hoping to alleviate his floundering.
"I got it nearby, so you won't need to wait for long. I can guide you there, Mr..?" Harry said, feeling it'd be interesting to watch the man for a while longer. He seemed so unlike any other he'd met so far and not that dangerous now that his food wasn't on the line.
"Deadpool! Name's Deadpool, or Pool of Death if you went and asked a nordic god! Nice to meet you kiddo-chimichanga-savior-! Who were you again?"
"I'm Harry", Harry said and became even more certain the man was a magical of some sort, "but is Deadpool really a name? It sounds more like a nickname."
"Harry-haribo it is! Are you as sweet as candy kiddo? Those eyes are adorable even behind those things- are they glasses, really? Wouldn't have known had they not been on top of your tiny nose.. hmm. DP is a nickname for me. You see, in my profession, there's a good reason to keep my identity a secret. Would bring a ton of troubles after my fabulous ass - damn - no swearing when in the company of kids Deadpool! Bad pool!" the man berated himself after going on a speaking marathon Harry barely kept along with. No matter, he found the man amusing company as they made their way to the same shop Harry'd just been in.
"Sure, Deadpool it is then", Harry said nodding briskly and grinning at the man before adding thoughtfully, "I wouldn't know about being sweet, though, as I've been fortunate enough not to be eaten by any."
The man watched him for a second before squealing again and pinching Harry's cheeks while his mask relayed the enamoured expression as if there had not been a mask at all:
"Such innocence! You are a sweet kiddo, Harry-bo! Let me pinch those rosy cheeks some more."
Harry blushed, not used to such positive attention - ever. No one had called him sweet or pinched his cheeks, although he knew old ladies did so to their cute grandchildren in the telly when he was happening to pass by while doing chores. So it was a positive thing, although the touch stinged a bit on his cheeks.
"The shops there", he said after being relieved from the pinching and pointed to the shop with his chimichanga, "I cannot go in, but.. well it's here."
Harry was a bit unsure what to say. He didn't really want to part with the man yet, but he couldn't go in with Hedwig.. so he could only bite into the last bits of his treasured first meal for himself and chew it properly while Deadpool was gazing at the shop zealously.
"Thanks a bunch, kiddo! Go on then, come al- wait whadda you mean you cannot go in?" Deadpool asked, spinning around to stare at Harry with a surprisingly suspicious stare.
Harry munched his mouthfull with difficulty while being stared at and pointed to Hedwig with the chimichanga and finally gasped out:
"They said no owls in the shop - and I - I got no place to put her as I'm alone and all."
Deadpool turned to look at Hedwig as though seeing her for the first time and his mask did a funny twirl as he did a double take on the owl.
"Oh. Didn't see that one coming. Owl, yeah, not store friendly are they? Wait here then Harry-bo, I'll reward your direction giving with a say - another chimichanga?"
Harry shook his head while his eyes widened to impossible lenghts.
"Oh, no. You don't need to - I'm perfectly fine - couldn't eat another one, I'm afraid - not that you need to - I'm.."
"Sure, ice cream then. You can never eat too much ice cream Harry-bo. Never. I should know. I once ate a whole box of Ben & Jerry's. Cold times, cold times I say.. but worth it, soo-o worth it" Deadpool sighed dreamily and sprang off before Harry could get a word in, "Be back in a second!"
So, Harry was left standing outside the shop again, this time a troubled expression on his face, which slowly melted into a tentative smile.
It was not much longer before Deadpool danced out of the store with a bag of chimichangas in one had and the other holding an ice cream, which he readily thrust onto Harry face.
"There you go! A cholate chip-vanilla-cream ice cream, made by the house - who woulda known they had ice cream, too?" he said while unwrapping a chimichanga and taking a huge bite out of it.
"Hmm.. chimichanga, just what I wanted - although pancakes woulda been better.. or tacos.. or pancakes.." Deadpool hummed as he devoured the chimichanga while standing there on the busy street with Harry, a trunk and a white owl clicking her peak at the atrocious table manners, where the food was flying everywhere while Deadpool ate. Harry had a sudden understanding that the Dursleys would absolute abhor Deadpool in every possible way. He was loud, messy, had no manners and behaved in a very not-normal way, all of which were things the Dursleys avoided with an almost religious passion.
"If you like pancakes better, why not eat those, then?" Harry asked while they moved aside a little to let other patrons in.
Deadpool didn't answer him, just kept eating, so Harry did the same and tasted ice cream with a badly hidden curiosity. Another thing he had never tasted but had wondered about was ice cream. Dudley had had fits over ice cream - not that he didn't have fits over almost anything, but ice cream was a particularly often occuring theme in them. He licked the white part with little chips of chocolate and gave out a surprised sound at how cold and sweet and good it was!
Deadpool noticed and watched him while munching on his chimichanga.
"That's right.. Hey kiddo, where are your parents? You are kinda young aren't ya? Shouldn't you have some sort of entourage of worrying adults with ya?"
Harry stiffened and licked at his ice cream while peeking up, up, at Deadpool from behind his taped glasses.
"My parents are dead.."he mumbled and looked at the ground before continuing with a more steady voice, "I was with a teacher from my new school, but he left me after our shopping trip."
"Uh-huh", Deadpool hummed and bit into his food again, Harry only now noticed the scarring on his jaw and had a staggering realisation there was a good reason the man wore a suit all over his body.
"So are mine, but I ain't got a school, so you're more lucky out of the two of us", he continued and nodded a bit, "So what about guardians?"
"Ermm.." Harry said, not knowing what to say about the Dursleys, "I.. live with my aunt and uncle..?"
Deadpool hummed again and devoured the last of his second chimichanga before sucking his glowed fingers clean and nodding like coming to some sort of decicion.
"Say kiddo.. You know a place 'round here where we can go into with that winged friend of yours?"
Now, in Harry's defence, taking into account the day he'd had and the strange people he'd met during the trip around Diagon Alley, he was almost 100% sure Deadpool was a magical of some sort.
He hadn't even blinked twice at Harry having an owl with him!
So, when thinking about places where owls were allowed in, of course Harry thought of the Leaky Cauldron first. There no one thought it odd to have owls let alone toads or snakes with them. A logical solution to their problem.
Say, he should have maybe thought it through again when Deadpool didn't seem to notice the pub at first glance, but the man was forgetfull of the most obvious things all the time Harry had known him (20 minutes max).
But while in front of the tex-mex shop, the man had taken a glance at Harrys trunk and owl and deposited the bag full of food on his lap and picked him up to sit on his shoulders, while Deadpool took his trunk and Hedwig's cage on top of it before asking 'where to captain?' in a cheery voice, making Harry laugh before giving instructions. At that moment, he wondered about the things strapped to Deadpool's back (were they swords?) but didn't linger on it as it had been a strange day all in all.
Moreover, it had taken only a little push to get Deadpool to see Leaky Cauldron and trudge in with a chirpy 'What a wizardy name', Harry still on his shoulders.
Once inside, however, Harry started to slowly see that perhaps Deadpool wasn't so into their secret as he first thought. His frist clue was when a howering entourage of pints flew past them and Deadpool stopped still to look at them, before Harry pointed to a booth in a secluded corner and asked him to go over. They got seated easily, both on the same side with Hedwig and Harry's trunk taking the other side.
The second clue came when a young woman came over to take their order with a quill howering over a piece of parchment and Deadpool went silent again, leaving Harry to order, which he did, asking what was best and getting the waitress to giggle a little and wink at him.
"A newbie around here, I take it", she said, the quill dotting down something behind her back, "I'll get you two butterbeers, then, I'm sure you'll love them!"
She walked back to where Harry could see Tom scrubbing some glasses behind the bar and Harry wondered what a butterbeer was, when Deadpool's hushed voice by his ear made him jump.
"I'm hallucinating, aren't I?", he whispered with a surprisingly level voice for someone who thought he was hallucinating, "Wouldn't be the first time for me.. But did you see that quill howering in the air? Those pints, too? Who even uses quills anymore? But anyways, I must have been hallucinating, or did I jump universes again?"
At that moment, the warning bells were ringing loud in Harry's ears and he realised he'd made a big mistake in judgement when thinking Deadpool was one of magicals - at least his magicals. He turned to look at the man with a pale face, swallowing the rising anxiety down in order to do something to stop them making a scene in the bar. Harry didn't want to get kicked out of the magical world for bringing a muggle (presumably?) in on his first day!
"Ermm.. Okay, Deadpool wait here for a moment, I'll be right back, okay. Wait for me, rigth here?" Harry ordered and sprinted after the waitress with his heart hammering in his chest.
"Umm", Harry started saying behind the woman's back, "Miss?"
She turned and smiled at Harry.
"Did you need anything more?"
"Yes, I was wondering if I could possibly get a room, too please? And those butterbeers to go with?"
"Sure!" the woman said sunnily and beckoned him to come with her to the counter where she fished a key for Harry and asked for the money for a night and two butterbeers. Harry paid her and went back to Deadpool balancing the butterbeers with him.
"Come, I got us a room where it's quieter than here", he said and hoped the man would follow. He really didn't want to cause a scene down here.
Deadpool hummed and watched the bar and Harry with serious eyes, making Harry fidgety. Nonetheless, soon they were in a small room packed full with the two of them and Harry's trunk. There were two beds next to each other and Harry sat on the other while Deadpool took the other one after glimpsing out the window first.
"Soo, Harry-bo.. Am I hallucinating or not?" Deadpool asked with a disconcerting mix of serious and curious.
"Umm..." Harry started, somewhat reassured Deadpool used his nickname for Harry, "You're not hallucinating."
"So you're saying those things did actually fly downstairs?" Deadpool asked with a surprised tone before hollering, "That's awesome!!"
Harry slumped with relief, both at Deadpool's enthusiastic acceptance and the fact he had the insight to get them to relative privacy.
"Say, Harry-bo, what exactly is this place with flying objects and weird drinks?" Deadpool asked while taking a sip of butterbeer and letting out a pleased hmm at the taste.
"Errmm.. About that.. I thought you were one of us, with how you didn't seem too surprised about Hedwig and your appearance really. I shouldn't have really taken you here since you obviously don't know about us, though.."
"What is this 'us' you're talking about?" Deadpool asked, more serious and attentive than Harry had seen him yet.
"I-I'm a wizard. I actually got to know only today - it's my eleventh birthday, see, and that's when we go to learn about magic in a school called Hogwarts. But- but my relatives aren't magical and they don't like magic so I never knew I was a wizard until today when my new teacher came and took me shopping here", Harry said in a blur of trying to make sence both to himself and Deadpool. He also couldn't suppress the joy of being able to tell someone about the exciting day he'd had so far.
"Uh-huh, wizards. That would explain the flying things", Deadpool said in a relaxed manner, like it wasn't a big deal at all that wizards existed, "No hallucinating then, that's good. I don't like to hallucinate cool things only to realise they weren't real - like that time with the pancakes - a real sorrow I didn't have a talking pancake mountain with me, I tell you!"
"You really like pancakes, don't you?" Harry asked, reassured everything was going smoothly. Deadpool really was one of a kind.
"Yep! Pancakes are to die for - literally. For me at least; can't die for real, after all. Don't you go dying for pancakes Harry-bo! You'll be unalived for reals then and that's a no-no!" Deadpool said while waving his finger 'no' too.
"I don't think I'd die for pancakes, after all, I've never had any pancakes" Harry said with a slight smile, not really minding not having had pancakes before. He had his own money now, money he would never let the Dursleys know about.
Deadpool let out an inhuman shriek and fell out of the bed, making Harry jump in surprise. The red mask came to view next to Harry's knees with a traumatised expression on the masked face and Deadpool's hands quivering on the edge of the bed.
"You-you've never, like not at all, tasted the beauty that is pancakes?" he asked with a trembling voice.
Harry shook his head, a little, no, very much, taken aback by how much more this news shocked Deadpool than the fact there were wizards in existence.
The man let out another wounded cry and clutched his head with both hands.
"Now that won't do! Harry-bo! We're going to have banana pancakes for an evening snack today! And chocolate pancakes for breakfast! And maplecyrup pancakes after that! Many many pancakes for your sorry soul which has never tasted pancakes. I feel you child", Deadpool said, reaching a hand to pat Harry on the shoulder like he was dying. Harry only smiled at the man, feeling a warm thing glowing in his chest at his antics.
"Are bacon pancakes a thing, too? I've never had bacon that's not burnt, you see?" Harry asked to gauge if his masked friend was serious or not.
"We can have any kinds of pancakes you like, kiddo! The awesome Deadpool will take you on an adventure of different pancakes!" the man hollered and climbed back on the bed, "We staying here, then? You're aunty and uncle not worrying their hearts out for you?"
Harry shook his head, somehow feeling he could tell Deadpool the truth, maybe because he was so different from everyone.
"They won't notice I'm gone - will be happy about it, really", he said, not really minding it. He'd gotten used to it long ago after all. And Deadpool was much better company than them, anyway. He also knew there were things to be wary about Deadpool, but he'd never once been a threat to Harry so he was okay with it. His uncle would have called the man a freak without an ounce of regret, but so he'd done to Harry, too, so that didn't weight so much in Harry's opinion.
Deadpool, otherwise known as Wade Winston WIlson, the Merc with the Mouth, lay on his back with his hands behind his head in a nice bed in a magical inn while watching a snowy white owl's eyes flitter accross the room with a soft hoot before she hid her head under her wing to sleep.
On the bed next to his lay a small kid (a wizard!) who had turned Wade's day around with an innocent flair of cuteness and kind smiles.
Who'd think there was a whole community of witches and wizards around? Not Wade, even after all the shit he'd been through his life of mutated people with superpowers and national heroes filled with supersoldier serums. He wondered if old baldy knew about the hidden society right under everyone's noses. What he'd gathered from the kid's tales, it was a total no-no to talk about it to non-magical people and that the kid would be in trouble if anyone knew he'd gotten Wade involved. So, despite his desire to pick up his phone to call Wolverine, Wade only flexed his aching fingers and vowed to keep the kid's secret. He seemed fucked up enough without Wade going around and ruining it all with his blabbering.
Truth be told he hadn't noticed the signs at first, like he didn't see the white winged beauty before being told about it, but once he'd heard the muttered 'they're dead', he'd actually seen the kid. The baggy clothes, alone with a huge trunk and an independent air about him with the little clues about not eating pancakes before!! It made him want to go on a roll at the supposed 'relatives'' place, but in his rare moment of clarity Wade realised it wouldn't perhaps be the most 'sensible' thing to do. Personally he didn't have a problem that didn't get better when he slashed through it with his katanas - but he was a merc, not a wizard kid about to go to a magical school. A place Wade rea-lly wanted to go to and explore with fashion.
Wade's eyes drifted to the mop of dark hair that peeked from under the blanket the boy clutched like it would disappear any minute now. The boy was an enigma. The clues of abuse clung to him like a second skin and there was an understanding of human evilness in his green eyes, but still the kid smiled at Deadpool like he was funny and likeable and inherently good. And Wade knew the kid noticed his slip-ups, saw the way his eyes got that pondering look, before they softened back to watching his next peculiar move. And it threw Wade like no other had since his time in project x. Not even his scars got more than an understanding of some sort from the little kiddo. An enigma.
And.. Wade had to admit, although his mind told him he was being an idiot, that the kid was interesting company he didn't mind keeping around.
Protect too, sure. Just.. He wasn't sure how his special talents were seen useful in a world full of magic.
Besides, it's not like he'd been on a vacation from unaliving people in a while, a twirl in a wizarding wolrd seemed like a good place to hide from unreasonable clients that didn't stop calling for some unaliving.