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Chapter Text

The Tri-ni-Set- the force that safeguards life, death, and rebirth in all the countless Earths scattered throughout the multiverse- is comprised of the Vongola Rings, the Mare Rings, and the Arcobaleno Pacifiers, this is a known fact. 

The Vongola Rings, when used to their fullest capacity, can move vertically through time.  Giotto, the founder of the Vongola Vigilante group, (which would eventually come to be known as the Vongola Famiglia, and the Vongola Boss would be referred to as the ‘Boss of all Bosses’), had been gifted the set of rings by the ancient being Sepira.  Fearing the damage that could be done with such power, Giotto split the power of the rings between the Vongola main family and the CEDEF before he retired to Japan.

The Mare Rings, when used to their fullest capacity, can move laterally through time.  Sepira’s decedents were able to use this ‘miracle’ due to the prophetic gift that she passed down to her descendants, all of whom were the Giglio Nero Famiglia bosses.  Intrinsically understanding that such information could cause great harm to those that were unable to cope with such vast information, (such as the madness that that one incarnation of Byakuran Gesso descended into in that one particular timeline), the holders of the Mare Rings guard them fiercely, lest the delicate balance of the Tri-ni-Set overbalance and tip the world into chaos and destruction.

The Arcobaleno Pacifiers are perhaps the most difficult to administer and more than likely that was why Kawahira had been left with the task instead of Sepira. 

(Kawahira had no particularly strong positive feelings for the humans, unlike Sepira, and their Master had likely seen that Sepira would allow herself to become overinvolved and fail if the duty was left to her- a fact that angered and saddened her greatly in equal parts.)

The Curse reverted the bodies of the I Prescelti Sette to that of toddlers due to the fact that their Flames were being constantly used to sustain the Pacifier’s role as a fixed point in Time and Space.  The strain of trying to maintain a fully grown human body, the Pacifier, and the use of Flames in general would cause the soul, (the source of the Flames), to be in a state of constant duress and therefore cause constant strain to the body. This set of circumstances would cause the body to try to shut down in an act of self-preservation, which would force the Flames to try to fix the problem, which would only exacerbate the issue, and ultimately the person would die at a very young age.  The smaller body allowed the chosen Arcobaleno to maintain their Pacifier, use their Flames, and maintain the strength of their adult form without the side-effect of burnout.

(Admittedly it seems strange that their child bodies would be able to maintain their former strength, but the simple answer is that smaller means compact and therefore less strain.)

However all of the Arcobaleno were once adults and Kawahira had no use for Arcobaleno who went mad from the strain of being in a child’s body.  Sky Arcobaleno were hard to find but most of them chose to live shorter lives and keep their adult forms, (especially those from Sepira’s line who also held the Mare Rings- holding two parts of the Tri-n-Set was a ridiculous strain), while the other six elements were not given a choice. 

To help keep them sane, (and therefore not needing to retake their Pacifiers and find replacements, as the elements had to be unilaterally replaced as opposed to the Sky), Kawahira allowed a reprieve for them once certain conditions were met- three days in their adult forms.  It never happened more than once a decade, but it was something for them to look forward to, at least.

Kawahira’s brand of kindness left much to be desired, but he did care in his own convoluted way.

(Of course, on one world this little bit of kindness would cause quite a ruckus.)

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 Harry Potter was a ridiculously small, eerily obedient, and alarmingly silent child.

At least, that was what Dr. Shamal had observed in his week at Little Whinging Primary.

There was something that nagged at him though, something about the quiet child that tingled in the back of his mind, going so far as to distract him from his favorite past time of hitting on every able-bodied female in the vicinity.  Shamal scrubbed a hand over his face irritably and leaned back in his chair to stare out the window.  He had a series of assassinations in England to perform over the next year and this job was the perfect cover as none of the targets actually lived in this area- close, but not exactly.

Shamal’s eyes narrowed as he watched a large blonde boy and his goons corner the little black haired-boy and proceed to beat the crap out of him.  His eyes narrowed further later that afternoon when he heard the teachers gossiping about how ‘that Potter brat’ was ‘such a menace’ and other nonsense.

What was wrong with these people?

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It had been six months since Shamal had taken this job and he really wondered what the fuck these people were on.

Using his position as the school’s Medical Officer he had become quite fond of Harry Potter and conversely, he had become not-fond of just about everyone else in Little Whinging.

Watching as the little brunette was once again cornered by the Whale and Horse’s offspring Shamal mentally began to review the reasons why he should not get involved, (meaning why he shouldn’t just accident the Dursley family and whisk little Harry away to a family that wanted the sweet little boy).  The list was growing shorter by the day, and all of his reports on the situation seemed to be getting misplaced, which only made the paranoid assassin in him twitchy.

Shamal had just resigned himself to getting out the First Aid kit, (he had learned to not step in directly as the attention only made little Harry’s treatment worse), when everything that had been festering in the back of his mind suddenly snapped into crystal-clear focus.

For Harry had just disappeared.

To everyone else it would seem that one moment the boy was there and the next moment he wasn’t but Shamal knew better and had seen what had caused the incident as well as to why the boys who had been happily beating on little Harry were now dazed and disoriented.

Sun Flames.

The brat had Sun Flames.

Sun Flames strong enough to Activate an escape at the age of eight.

Shamal was already halfway out his office door and dialing his cell phone.

*Ring* *Ring*

“Ciaossu.” A squeaky voice answered.

“Reborn.” Shamal said with a calm he most certainly did not feel at the moment, “When was the last time you were allowed a Reprive?”

There was a beat of silence and then, “I assume you have a reason for asking?”

Shamal spotted the black haired boy on the roof and quickly threw up an illusion to keep others from noticing him as he made his way towards the child, “There is an eight year old who just used Sun Flames to Activate an escape at the school that I am using for a cover.  Has messy black hair and some of your features if you know to look.” The assassin said wryly.

There was a sharp intake of breath, “Name?”

“Harry James Potter.”

There was muted muttering on the other end of the line for a moment before a clearly voiced, “Where are you?”

“Little Whinging, England.  I take it there is a possibility?”

“James and Lily Potter were vacationing in Italia during my last Reprieve and they were ah, experimenting.  We were careful, but…” The squeaky voice trailed off hesitantly.

Shamal’s voice was grim, “There’s always a possibility.”  Shamal sighed and hesitated, but ultimately tacked on, “Look, Reborn this kid- well, the mafia life would be an upgrade for him at this point.”

There was a beat of silence on the line before the voice spoke firmly, “It’s mid-morning there.  I’ll be there in less than four hours.  Do what you need to do, but don’t let him leave.”

“Understood.”

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Harry Potter was having a terrible day.

First he hadn’t made breakfast just right and his Aunt had whacked him over the head with the skillet, then Dudley had stolen his homework, (again), and turned it in to the teacher who had accepted it, (as if Harry and Dudley’s handwriting looked anything alike).

Then he hadn’t even managed to make it to Dr. Shamal’s office for recess.  The man had become his hero in the last half year, believing Harry and actually giving a damn about him.  The man was weird, sure, and the ladies in Aunt Petunia’s gossip club seemed to vacillate between hating him and loving his him, but Harry thought that Dr. Shamal was pretty much the coolest person ever.  He gave Harry food, helped him with his homework, and didn’t seem to mind letting Harry hide in his office during free periods.

So, here he was, stuck on the school roof while it was threatening to rain, wondering if the day could get any worse.

“Harry?” Dr. Shamal’s voice called from the ground.

Harry’s stomach plummeted and he started to shake a little- He won’t want anything to do with me if he knows I’m a Freak!- he wailed mentally as he tried to come up with a viable excuse as to why he was on the roof.

“Hey, brat, calm down.  Breathe in through your nose and then out through your mouth.”

Harry followed the advice, pleasantly surprised when it did help calm him down, “D-Dr. Shamal?” he asked shakily.

Shamal, who had managed to find a way just under the young boy tipped his head back and grinned, “Maa, jump brat, I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t a far drop, only about a story and a half, but to Harry it was like jumping out of an airplane and had it been anyone else asking he wouldn’t have ever considered jumping, but Dr. Shamal hadn’t led him wrong yet, so Harry lined his too-big sneakers up at the edge and gulped down one more fortifying breath, “O-ok.  You’ll catch me, right?”

Shamal did his best to smile reassuringly, “I’ve got you, brat.” Because if you are Reborn’s kid, I don’t want to die. The Doctor thought wryly, carefully pushing the slight vindictive glee at the thought of the Dursley’s having to deal with possessive hitman to the back of his mind as the expression that wanted to burst forth would not reassure the child on the roof.

Harry nodded shakily, closed his eyes, and forced himself to take a step forward-

Thentherewasonlyemptinessbeneathhimandhewasgoingtodie-

Then strong arms were around him along with Dr. Shamal’s familiar scent.

Harry opened his eyes hesitantly, not really believing that someone had caught him, and his green eyes met Dr. Shamal’s amused hazel ones.  “Have a nice trip?” the Doctor asked cheekily as he sung Harry around to stand on his own feet.

Harry grinned at the man as he tried to make his legs support his weight, “It was brilliant.  I might take up skydiving as an occupation.”

Dr. Shamal laughed as he led them back into the main building, “I’m not catching you if you voluntarily jump out of a fully functional plane, brat.”

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The next few hours passed pleasantly, Dr. Shamal taking a few samples of Harry’s blood and a mouth swab, but Harry was so thankful that the man hadn’t demanded an explanation as to why he was on the roof that he just sort of went with the flow of things.  Dr. Shamal had apparently decided that Harry was his ‘assistant’ for the day and had told Harry’s teacher as much when the woman had come to complain about the boy not being in class.

Dr. Shamal had gotten a phone call at some point, but had moved out of hearing range and Harry was quite accomplished at the art of not listening.

It was nearing four and Harry knew that he had to get back home or his Aunt would kill him for real that the door to the office swung open and a toddler, dressed in a nice looking suit with a bright yellow pacifier on a necklace walked into the room.

“Shamal.” The suit-wearing baby with the strange hat greeted in a babyish voice, but most of Harry’s attention was fixed on the curly sideburns.  How does he get them to curl like that? The boy wondered confusedly.

Dr. Shamal poked his head out of his office door and nodded at the baby, “Reborn.”

Then Harry was the focus of two piercing stares and all of a sudden all he wanted to do was hide.

“Hm,” The baby said at length, “This will take a while.”

“E-Excuse me.” Harry wetted his lips nervously as he inched towards the door, toddler-sized or not that baby was dangerous and he wanted out of here, “I-I need to get home now.”

Something like approval flashed through the baby’s black eyes and Shamal grinned, “You have good instincts, little one.”

Harry stopped inching towards for a moment, his curiosity temporarily overpowering his common sense, “What?”

The toddler smiled, though it looked more like a smirk, “Tell me, have you ever done anything strange?  Something unexplainable?”

Harry’s heart lurched in his chest.  What do I say?

The toddler’s eyes narrowed, “Do not lie to me, little one.”

Harry gulped nervously, absently noting that Dr. Shamal had taken a mouth swab of the toddler while the conversation had been happening and disappeared, “I-ah-I mean-“

The toddler stared a little harder at Harry before sighing and holding out a hand, “Watch.” The young child ordered.

Harry was confused for a moment, but then he squeaked in surprise and scrambled backwards in alarm as yellow fire covered the toddler’s hands.  “Why are you on fire?” He yelped in distress.

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Harry stared, transfixed, at the yellow fire on the toddler’s hands.

He had stopped frantically trying to locate a fire extinguisher a few moments ago when his brain finally caught on to the fact that the fire wasn’t hurting the kid.

As a matter of fact it felt…..comforting?  Warm, like the sun on your back during the morning hours of late spring, but not the blistering heat that usually accompanied the afternoon in summer.

Harry chanced a glance at the toddler’s dark eyes and found a patient, steady stare.  Slowly Harry shuffled forward, his too-big Dursley-provided hand-me-downs the only source of noise in the room as he knelt in front of the toddler and slowly extended a hesitant hand towards the fire.

It’s important that I touch it. He thought while his heart beat out a staccato rhythm in his chest, because if this fire didn’t burn him, if it was normal for this toddler-sized man to hold it in his hands and Dr. Shamal knew then Harry wasn’t- there was a chance that-

Harry instinctively flinched as his hand came into contact with the flame as it took a moment for his brain to catch up with the fact that, yes it was warm, but no it wasn’t actually burning him.

The toddler was still patiently watching Harry’s reactions.

Harry didn’t really notice, too absorbed in passing his hands through the flames in fascination.  They felt like freedom and hair-ruffles and proud smirks and ‘that’s-my-boy!’ shouts at football games.  Harry’s eyes welled up with tears behind his glasses as his chest sang and ached in the same instant.  Harry tried to smile, tried to push through the bittersweet pain and latch on to the sense of home in those flames because he knew that they’d leave and he’d be alone again in his dark cupboard without this condensed sunlight and-

“Breathe, brat.” Dr. Shamal’s voice cut through the chaos of his mind and Harry reluctantly allowed the Doctor to pull his tiny hands away from those yellow flames and sit him on an exam table.  “That’s it, Harry.  In through your nose and out through your mouth, there you go, kiddo.”  The Doctor soothed gently.

The toddler hopped up onto Harry’s shoulder and ran tiny fingers through his hair as a tiny reptile- was that a chameleon?- sauntered to the edge of the hat and licked his cheek affectionately, causing Harry to squirm, “That tickles.” He giggled with a watery laugh as he raised his other arm to scrub irritably at his eyes.  There was nothing to cry about, dammit!  And only freaky little monsters cry, Uncle Vernon said so!

The air abruptly shifted and Harry stiffened, “Reborn.” Dr. Shamal said warningly.

“My apologies.” The toddler replied, hopping over to Dr. Shamal’s shoulder so that he could look Harry in the eye.

“Harry, what do you know about your parents?” Dr. Shamal asked the boy after allowing the tension to dissipate for a few moments.

Harry looked down at his suddenly clenched hands and dully recited, “My mother was a whore and my father was a drunk, they lived on the Dole, and were killed in a drunk driving incident of their own making forcing my Aunt to have to take care of her useless sister’s son.” He stated flatly, the words bitter and sour on his tongue.

The tension spiked again ominously, and Harry instinctively tried to shrink into himself.  “I’m sorry.” He whimpered quietly.

“You,” the high-pitched voice said in a controlled tone that was somehow more terrifying than Uncle Vernon’s shouting, “have nothing to be sorry about.”

Harry peeked through his bangs at the other two, and while it was obvious that they were angry, they didn’t seem inclined to attack him.

The baby’s eyes narrowed, “We’re not going to attack you, little one.”

Harry’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, How-

“-did I know that you were thinking that?  Simple.  I read your mind.” The toddler continued blithely, pulling a cup of coffee out of nowhere and sipping at it leisurely.

Harry’s eyes widened, “You can- what?”

Dr. Shamal cut them off, “We should probably explain so we can get Harry home and start our own preparations, Reborn.”

The toddler smirked, and it was a look that sent chills of runawaydangerdanger down Harry’s spine, “Yes, let’s head that way now.”

“Uh, Rebor-“

“Now, Shamal.”

“R-right.”

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Less than an hour later, Harry, Dr. Shamal, and Reborn were sitting in the Dursley living room with the three members of the Dursley family sitting across from them.

Well, Harry was sitting by Dr. Shamal and Reborn was sitting in a toddler-sized recliner on the coffee table, sipping on yet another cup of coffee that he had pulled out from absolutely nowhere, while Vernon and Petunia sat, stiff backed and wide-eyed on the couch, while Dudley was snoring away on the floor.

“Now that we’re all present and accounted for,” The toddler said regally, “Let us have a proper discussion, no?”

“Dudley, what did you do to my Dudders?!” Aunt Petunia screeched, or well, she tried to screech, but whatever Dr. Shamal had done to her had made her voice hoarse.  The Dursley’s had not wanted to let the Doctor and Reborn inside the house, but Dr. Shamal had waved his hand and the next thing Harry knew this was happening.

Dr. Shamal waved a lazy hand towards the snoring Dursley, “I infected him with a disease that mimics Narcolepsy.  I’ll fish out the antidote later.”

Uncle Vernon’s face reddened and Aunt Petunia opened her mouth, but then Reborn had a gun in his tiny hand and they both went silent and pale.  “According to my information, Harry James Potter came to be in your care on 1 November 1981.  Explain.”

Petunia sniffed in disdain, but quickly answered as Dr. Shamal made a motion towards Uncle Vernon, “I went out to get the milk and there was the boy on the doorstep, with a letter that said that we had to take him in or we’d be in danger.”

Reborn sighed, “I cannot tolerate the sound of your voice, shrew.  Shamal, immobilize them.”

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They spent almost an hour in silence, save for Dudley’s snores. 

Well, the Dursley’s did, anyways.

Reborn had stared deeply into their unblinking eyes, his frown growing stormier. Harry was glad that the gun had been replaced with the little chameleon that Harry had found out was named Leon, but Dr. Shamal and Harry had very quickly gotten bored.

Apparently, that translated into Dr. Shamal ordering pizza and the two watching the telly while Reborn did- whatever it was that he was doing.  (Harry, being delighted to actually have pizza, was just sort of going along with whole surreal situation.)

“Dr. Shamal, what is he doing?” Harry finally asked.

Shamal spared a glance back towards the immobile Dursleys- Reborn had hopped off the coffee table and went storming off somewhere a little while ago- and replied, “He was reading their minds.  Reborn is really good at it, but the older the memory the harder it is to see because the mind can twist them around, so it just took a while for him to find whatever it was that he was looking for.”

Harry munched on a piece of pizza thoughtfully, “Yes, but why.  You said this had something to do with my parents?  But Aunt Petunia said-“

“That useless shrew is a liar.” The squeaky voice of Reborn announced flatly, causing both Shamal and Harry to turn towards the doorway to see the young-looking dangerous, mind-reading man clutching a piece of paper in his tiny hands and his black eyes flashing with murderous intent.  “Shamal, redose the morons, I want them dead to the world for this discussion.  Harry sit, and I’ll tell you everything, ok?”

Harry was surprised, but acquiesced, and a few minutes later the elder Dursleys were slumped against each other, breathing deeply in sleep.

A yellow legal pad and a pen appeared in front of Harry as he and Dr. Shamal reclaimed the sofa and Reborn reclaimed his armchair, “Alright, little one.  I’m going to tell you a story, write down any questions you might have, but do not interrupt, alright?”

Harry’s mouth clicked shut and he nodded, excited by the prospect of finally getting some answers.  It was almost seven!

“You have something called magic.  Yes, it is real.  It is only able to be wielded by about a percent of the world’s population.  The magical world is under a blanket secrecy pact known as the ‘Statute of Secrecy’ which was invoked circa 800AD, which does not allow for people who cannot wield magic to know of its existence.  People who are born to parents who wield magic but cannot do some themselves are called ‘Squibs’ and are cast out if they do not receive an invitation for magical schooling on their eleventh birthday, which is when formal magical education starts.”

Harry scribbled down a few questions, and Shamal winced a little at the kid’s handwriting.  Reborn isn’t going to let that last much longer.

Reborn sipped at his coffee and continued, “Over time, some Squib lines eventually regain their lost magic and two people who don’t know of the magical world produce a magical child.  They are called ‘muggleborns’ and are the opposite of a Squib.  Behind every major conflict in nonmagical history is a magical conflict that coincides with it.  During the Second World War, Gellert Grindelwald assisted the Axis powers in a bid to topple the Statute of Secrecy and establish a new order.  His opponent, Albus Dumbledore, believed that muggles and magicals could continue to coexist with the current system.  Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald in 1945, and that event marked the end of the magical side of the conflict.

I would like to point out, that the nonmagical conflict was not directly influenced by the magical one, the wars simply always coincide.

Now, your parents were James and Lily Potter.  James was a pureblood wizard- meaning that all four of his grandparents had magical parents- and Lily was a muggleborn witch- meaning that she was one of the new generation magicals from a Squib line.  They attended Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry and Albus Dumbledore was their Headmaster, and after their graduation they chose to fight against the madman known as ‘Lord Voldemort’ with Headmaster Dumbledore’s vigilante group ‘The Order of the Phoenix’.”

Reborn sighed and rubbed at his forehead as he took another sip of coffee, “However, you are rather unique as there is another world hidden from the general masses.  The Dying Will Flame users who are bound to the Mafia.”

Harry’s spine went rigid in alarm, but a measured look from Reborn kept his mouth shut, “Flame users weren’t always aligned with the mafia exclusively, they were once visited by the Vindice- the Mafia world’s enforcers- and given rules to abide.  As the ability to use Flames flourished and Flames users gravitated towards militaries and governments, the options changed, a person who had the ability to outwardly manifest their Flame- such as what I did earlier- were given the choice of having their Flame sealed by the Vindice, forcing it to internalize, or join one of the Mafia syndicates that operated under Vindice jurisdiction.  Failure to keep the secret- or Omertá- resulted in an extended stay in the Vindicare prison.”

Harry eyes were huge behind his glasses, and even Shamal was interested, Reborn knew some of the more intriguing bits of history.

Reborn took another sip and continued, “About the time the Statute of Secrecy was invoked, the magical world’s populations took a sharp downturn, and the nonmagical population began to climb.  By the fifteenth century, the magical world’s population was continuing to spiral and the nonmagicals continued to thrive.  Flame users, who had always been a fringe population, began to overtake the magical population.  In the sixteenth century the Flame users were bound to the Mafia through the work of the Vongola Primo and the Giglio Nero Prima.  Some Flame users internalize their Flame and do not endanger Omertá, so they are left alone by the Vindice.  If Shamal hadn’t been here for your Activation you might have gotten a visit- but Flames naturally disorient those who do not possess them, so you might not have- the important thing is that the magical world does not find out about your Flames.

There are two sections to the Statute of Secrecy, one for the magical governments to uphold and one for Flame users to abide that the Vindice enforce. Since magic usually interferes with Flame activation, the magicals that do possess them are warned early about showing them to their magical brethren, as soul magic is considered taboo and carries weighty penalties.”  Reborn looked Harry steady in the eye, “Magic can be a wonderful thing, little one, but people are people wherever you go and fear is a universal language.”

Harry gulped and shot a side-glance at his relatives.

Reborn followed his gaze and nodded solemnly, “Yes, like them.  Now, the reason why all of this is important to you, little one, is because your mother and father took a vacation before you were born, and on that vacation they indulged in adult activities that resulted in me being your biological father.”

Shamal’s face met his hand and Harry swayed in his seat as he gazed horror-struck at the toddler in front of him.  “M-my parents were pedophiles?” he asked in distressed incomprehension.

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Reborn’s eyebrow twitched ominously as Shamal descended into slightly hysterical laughter.

Reborn forcibly reminded himself, as he looked into Harry’s horrified, hurt green eyes that his son- his son!- had no idea about his curse and had been hit full-on by the shrew this very morning with a cast iron frying pan.  “Little one, as I am sure you have felt, there is something off about me, right?”

Harry nodded hesitantly as Shamal subsided into giggles, and Reborn was going to make the bastard miserable for his disrespect.  “I am part of what is called the I Prescelti Sette or ‘The World’s Strongest Seven’. Quiet, little one.  Thank you.  Now, Flame users account for about two percent of the population as opposed to the one percent that the magicals can claim.  There are seven types of Flames of the Dying Will: Sky, Storm, Rain, Lightning, Sun, Cloud, and Mist.  Their abilities are: Harmonization, Disintegration, Tranquility, Hardening, Activation, Propagation, and Construction, respectively.  There are also Hard flames and Soft Flames, as well as Classic versus Inverted Flame users.  Each Flame has a characteristic color:  Sky is orange, Storm is crimson, Rain is blue, Lightning is green, Sun is yellow, Cloud is purple, and Mist is an opaque indigo.  With me so far?”

Harry nodded, but he had scribbled down a couple of questions on his reclaimed notepad.

Reborn sipped at his coffee and leaned back against his tiny recliner, “Now there is also something called Flame Purity. The closer to clear a Flame user’s Flame color is, the weaker the Flame.  If the Flame is exclusively clear the Flame is officially called a Null Flame- which means that while the person has achieved Flame Activation, their Flame doesn’t carry a specific characteristic. 

Every generation the seven strongest, purest Flame users are gathered by the Man In The Iron Hat and turned into the Arcobaleno-“ here Reborn gestured to the yellow pacifier around his neck, “-and we exist as a part of the Tri-ni-set, which is the force that keeps the world in balance.  Once a decade or so we are allowed three days in our adult forms- the forms we possessed before we were cursed- and it was during those three days that I was with James and Lily.”

Some of the tension drained out of Harry and he seemed to shrink in on himself slightly.  Reborn pinned him with a stern stare, “It’s alright, you didn’t know.  While you’ve always wanted to believe that your Aunt was lying, you’ve never heard anything good about your parents, so your concern wasn’t entirely misplaced.  However, from now on you will refrain from indulging in such snap judgments when I am explaining something to you, do you understand?”

Harry nodded and peeked over his glasses at the man-in-a-toddler’s-body, “Does it hurt?” he asked curiously.

Reborn gave him a look for his question, but decided to humor the boy, “It’s annoying, but it is….tolerable, most days.  Now, it is getting late, and we have much to do tomorrow.  I am going to wait to answer your questions until morning- hand me your notepad so I can look them over, thank you- when you’ve had time to rest and your subconscious has time to order your thoughts.  You will not be returning to that blasted cupboard ever, so you will sleep in the guest room for tonight.  Do your nightly ablutions, find some nightclothes that almost fir from the young swine’s room, and then call for Shamal, as he will give you something to help you sleep, alright little one?”

Harry stood and wavered for a moment, “Yes?” Reborn asked expectantly when Harry’s mouth had opened and closed a few times without the boy saying anything.

“It’s just-well-“ Harry stumbled over his words before squaring his shoulders and blurting out, “WhatdoIcallyou?”

Reborn blinked and something like a true smile curled at his mouth, “Papá.  You may call me Papá, little one.”

Harry blinked slowly and then a blinding, tremulous smile spread across his face, “Well, then g-goodnight Papá, Dr. Shamal.” He said as a rather impressive blush stole across his face and he scurried out of the room quickly to wash up for the night.

Shamal grinned lazily at Reborn as the hitman tipped his fedora down to shadow his face.

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Once Harry had been comfortably settled into the Dursley guest room, Shamal made his way back downstairs, where he found that Reborn had transformed Leon into a stick and was amusing himself by making geometric red welts on the elder Dursleys.

“Alright, so why aren’t you on your way back to Italia with your kid?” Shamal asked the question that had been burning at him since he had finished the paternity test earlier.

Reborn stopped his ‘artwork’ and faced the perverted Doctor with a scowl, “The man who left my son on these animals doorstep at night in November erected magical enchantments based on blood to protect him.  Unfortunately, the shrew is a Squib and has some magical ability in her blood and her absolute loathing of her sister and subsequently my son has warped the fundamental rules of the enchantment.  So, while it is protecting him it is also harming him by negatively affecting the outlook of everyone the shrew knows, suggesting that Harry is a delinquent because that is what she thinks about him.”

Shamal leaned back on the sofa and casually crossed his legs and threw an arm out, “I’m not affected, though?”

Reborn sighed and Leon scurried down his arm so the Arcobaleno could pet the little chameleon to ground his temper, “No.  Very, very few magicals know about that Dying Will Flames and the few that do are terrified of being found out, so only the truly old lines would have any sort of enchantments that would work against the Flame users, and most of those lines are still further East than England, whose islandic nature made Her isolated during the times when the Dying Will users and the magicals actually did interact somewhat frequently.”

Shamal’s eyes narrowed, “I haven’t really had too many dealing with magicals other than assassinations- my babies work just as well against magicals as they do against nonmagicals, they just take a stronger Flame output- but I guess their enchantments sort of work like a computer?  They can only guard against thins that they are programmed to guard against?”

The Arcobaleno nodded tiredly, “Yes, basically.  They are wonderful things, no doubt, but they do have weaknesses.  We will take Harry to the wizard’s bank tomorrow and see about the state of his finances- Goblins, the beings who run the magical world’s economy, are bound by Omertá and so we will be safe to investigate- and why he is here when I know that James and Lily had other magical friends who should be taking care of their son.  The fact that Albus Dumbledore himself put my son here is troubling enough.”

“Isn’t he like, their big hero or whatever?”

Reborn frowned and gently placed Leon back on his shoulder, “Yes, he defeated Grindelwald and is damn-near worshipped for it, but he also is a sanctimonious asshole.  He was a persistent thorn in Donna Ottava’s side back during the old days, and he’s continued to be one to Timoteo, even though I doubt he knows about the Dying Will Flames given his level of condescension during his meetings with them.”

“I thought you said he was pro-nonmagical or what’s-it?”

There was a sigh, “He tends to think of everyone around him as errant children, I think it has something to do with his rather philosophic nature and longevity, myself.  Anyways, he has an annoying tendency to talk down to people and ignore other’s input- especially if they are younger than him- and he has a nasty habit of thinking that nonmagicals are- well, mentally stunted, I guess.  Talking to him and his ilk is like when a child hands you a drawing that’s all scribbles and you pat them on the head and coo at them, it’s maddening.”

Shamal made a face like he’d sucked on something bitter, “Seriously?”

Reborn nodded, “Yes, seriously.  He also will do just about anything if he feels that the ends will justify the means, I have no doubt that he knows at least enough to be concerned about what is taking place in this house, but he has a plan.”

“One that you are going to disrupt, more than likely.” Shamal commented knowingly.

“Damn right!” Reborn snarled as his tiny hands fisted on the arms of his recliner, “I don’t care what he’s trying to fucking accomplish.  This is my son’s life, and I have more than paid any debts we owe to this dammed world.  No, Harry will be coming with me, it might just take a little while.  I will probably let him attend Hogwarts, if only because I know that James and Lily loved that school and would want their son to attend if at all possible.  If, however, that man cannot keep his schemes to himself, Harry will not go back after his First Year.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Harry blinked up at what he knew was the Dursley guest room’s ceiling.  It wasn’t a dream? He thought groggily as he sat up and pushed the covers back.  The feeling of sunshine on his skin only helped drive home the fact that he was in a real room, and that he had slept in a real bed and it was all because of, “Papá, Dr. Shamal.” He murmured as he made his way to the bathroom, still not entirely convinced that he hadn’t died and gone to some bizarre form of heaven.

(Though why his mother wouldn’t be in his heaven, he didn’t know.)

Harry made it downstairs and was assaulted with the smell of cooking food, the sight of the Dursley still in the same positions they had been the previous evening, (Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had some strange looking welts, though), and Dr. Shamal and Reborn, (Papa) were sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast, and there was an extra plate of food setting in front of Dudley’s usual seat.

Reborn looked up as Harry was gawking in the doorway, “Ah, good morning, little one.  Did you sleep well?”

Harry nodded dumbly, wondering if he spoke out loud the scene would shatter and he’d be in his cupboard.

Reborn’s eyes darkened and Shamal had been an assassin and a Doctor long enough to not need to be a mind reader, “Sit and eat, brat.  We’re not that easy to get rid of.”

Harry sort of trance-walked over to the chair and sat himself down, peeking up at the other two hesitantly.  “are you sure that this is mine?  I-I didn’t cook it or-“

Reborn growled and Harry flinched instinctively before he heard a sigh and the soft taps of shoes on the tabletop before a tiny hand tugged his face upwards, “Look at me, little one.  Those idioti are the worst sort of people- nonmagical, magical, or Flame users- and do not deserve your consideration.  You will eat until you are full- not overfull, just comfortable- and while you are doing that we will discuss our itinerary for today, alright?”

Harry nodded slowly and Reborn returned to his seat and stared until Harry picked up his fork and started eating slowly.  For a few minutes only the clinking sounds of cutlery filled the room, until Reborn finally broke the silence, “Now, today is Wednesday, I called the Walrus into work, the little cow and you into school, and the shrew had no plans for the day other than being useless.  Shamal covered them with illusions so they can’t be seen from the window.”

Harry snorted into his breakfast and Shamal snickered quietly as Reborn carelessly continued, “We’re going to the main magical shopping district for England, Diagon Alley, and checking on the state of your finances from your mother and step-father and look around a bit.  Shamal will cover you with an illusion as the man who left you with the animals said something about you being well-known in the British community, I don’t have much contact with the British magicals, so I’m not particularly sure what he was talking about.”

Harry spluttered, “Me?  Well known?  Money?” he said in bewilderment.

Reborn laughed softly, “Calm down, we’ll figure it all out today, just eat.”

Harry grinned at Shamal, “Do you always have to do all the work?”

Shamal sighed in a very melodramatic way and Reborn snorted, “Always, brat, always.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Harry squirmed restlessly around in his seat as Reborn talked to the goblin- Grapplehook- about his parent’s finances. 

From what they had found out so far, James and Lily had found out early in Lily’s pregnancy that James hadn’t been the biological father and had enacted an old-time blood ritual to add a set of parents to young Harry while he was still in utero.  The ritual was used back in olden times when an older couple, (usually in noble families), needed to procure an heir.  Since children were always cherished, instead of replacing the original parents the ritual added the additional parents to the unborn, developing child.

The ritual had limitations, and opposing Family Magics could potentially kill mother and child, so that was why they had used Harry’s Godfather and James’ cousin, Sirius Black.

Sirius Black who was in Azkaban, without having been granted the consideration of a trial.  He had supposedly betrayed Harry’s parents to Voldemort, but something felt weird about the situation.

Reborn was haggling over some financial particulars and Shamal hadn’t been allowed in the room to begin with, and Harry’s brain had checked out when they started talking about interest rates and compounded interest.  This went on for a while, and Harry got progressively sleepier as time went on, and when he finally dropped off completely, Grapplehook and Reborn just shook their heads and returned to hammering out the details of the Potter Estate.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Harry once again woke up blinking at the Dursley guest room ceiling.  How did I get here? 

Reborn’s face popped into view.  “How do you feel?”

Harry blinked slowly, belatedly realizing that he could see rather clearly.  “W-wha?”

Dr. Shamal came up to Harry’s other side, “Reborn, as a Flame user, was able to access services from the Goblins that most magicals never realize exist, and those that do are under secrecy vows that make Omertá seem tame.”

Reborn continued the explanation, “They managed to remove some sort of Flame shard from your scar, and heal a great deal of damage that the Dursleys have inflicted on you over the years.  It’s Saturday, you’ve been asleep and Reborn and I have been keeping you asleep so that we could continue the healing process.”

Reborn held up a necklace, there was a silver stag on the chain.  “This is for you, it has the shrew’s freely given blood inside it, and the Goblins crafted it to hold the enchantment that was originally anchored around this house, so instead of needing to call the shrew’s house your home for the enchantment to hold, you only need to wear this necklace.  The enchantment will slowly anchor itself into the necklace over the next half a year, during which Shamal will be moving in to watch over you. 

The official reason for his abrupt move is that a foreign, toxic substance was found in his apartment building, and the Dursley family being the upstanding citizens that they are, are allowing him to rent their spare room.  You’re going to have to work hard in the next half year so that you’ll be ready for the second half of my plan, alright little one?”

Harry sat up and nodded slowly, “You’re not staying?” he asked quietly.

Reborn settled onto Harry’s lap and the boy wrapped his arms around the tiny form of his father as Shamal left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him, “I have things that need doing and the longer that I am around you, the brighter the target on your back becomes.  Shamal will be around, as he will draw less suspicion, and you will get your own phone like mine soon so we can talk occasionally, but until you can properly defend yourself we will have to have minimal contact.”

Harry’s arms tightened around his father, “So, it’s to protect me?”

Reborn patted Harry’s arms and Leon scampered up Harry’s arm to nuzzle the boy’s neck.  “I am possessive of what is mine, little one.  The only reason I would let you be apart from me is to ensure your survival.  Make no mistake, little one, though I possess Sun Flames I am anything but pure and bright, it is best that you understand that early on in our association.”

Harry shivered slightly at the dark undertones in the man’s squeaky voice, more assured than scared as the thought that someone wanted him flooded him with pleasant warmth.  “I understand, Papá.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Harry poked his tongue out a little as he concentrated intently on the penmanship assignment in front of him.

It had been about six months since he had Activated his escape to the school shed’s roof and had subsequently met his Papá.  Dr. Shamal had moved into the Dursley house that weekend and when all the Dursleys had woken up the following Monday, Harry had been less surprised than he should have been that they hadn’t remembered anything strange occurring and accepted Dr. Shamal’s presence as if it truly had been their idea to let him move in with them.  They hadn’t even protested the changes in Harry’s living arrangements. 

(The fact that Dr. Shamal was having far too much fun enforcing ‘healthy life choices’ on the Dursley family only had made the man that much cooler in Harry’s mind.  Seriously, it was incredibly amusing to watch Uncle Vernon and Dudley cringe their way through a dressing-less grilled chicken salad while his Aunt was choking down a much higher-caloried meal.  They were all healthier as a result, but you would think that each meal was a trip to the gallows, and as the school Medical Officer Dr. Shamal had used his considerable influence to make it quite difficult for the Dursley males to get unhealthy foods just about everywhere in the neighborhood and around Uncle Vernon’s office.  It was absolutely hysterical to Harry.)

Harry had quickly learned that even if his Papá wasn’t in the same house as him, it did not mean that Harry could slack off from the tasks that the man assigned him, and such a thing usually wasn’t an issue but there had been a tense period in month four that Dr. Shamal had later explained as Harry’s ‘adjustment phase’ where Harry had been uncharacteristically stubborn and uncooperative. 

It had upset Harry the whole time it had been happening and he had actually wet the bed like a baby several times during that dark period, but after he’d made it to the other side of those trying days, (equipped with a healthy fear of his Papá’s anger but a profound appreciation for the man’s patience and concern, even while he was so far away and didn’t actually have to put up with Harry but wanted to), Dr. Shamal had explained that abused children- like you, Harry, even if most of the abuse was emotional and verbal, those types are usually much harder to heal from that purely physical abuse because of the lack of tacit proof and the abuser’s way of making everything the victim’s fault, even in the victim’s own mind- usually go through a ‘boundary pushing’ period when they are removed from the caustic environment to make sure that they were well and truly safe before feeling secure enough to unfurl themselves from their previously marked ‘safe behaviors’.

Harry’s lessons had stalled a little bit during that time, but he had more than made up for them once he’d gotten his head on straight and started to truly begin to heal.  He was learning Italian, Japanese, Spanish, and French at the same time as polishing his English- which would normally be really difficult for an eight-year-old, but with his Flames actively being tapped into and his magic happily bubbling just underneath his skin now that his body wasn’t constantly straining to keep itself from failing he needed to keep his mind occupied as there was only so much self-defense that Dr. Shamal could teach him at this point.

So between Dr. Shamal randomly deciding what language they were speaking in each day, his actual school work, the extra work that his father wanted done, his self-defense practice, (which was pretty basic at this point), his Flame/magic exercises, (they alternated days), and trying his hand at short-term sports clubs at school his months had slipped away quite quickly.

Of course, it was now summer vacation, but that didn’t stop his Papá from assigning extra academic work.  Harry didn’t mind, really, he liked being close to Dr. Shamal and he still didn’t really have any friends as the enchantment’s echoes, (the actual Ward was well and truly anchored to Harry’s necklace now, at least according to the Goblins his Papá paid to evaluate the enchantment’s progress and validity) was still loosely covering Little Whinging, and would for as long as his Aunt lived there, and so her twisted opinion of him was still affecting everyone, just like before.

Realizing that while his mind had wandered he had messed up again, the boy sighed and reached for another practice sheet, thankful that while he didn’t actually have to wear glasses for anything other than reading for long periods of time, Dr. Shamal had put some Mist Flames on his silver-rimmed, oval glasses that helped him translate written words to English, as he could speak his languages fairly well but their written words- particularly Japanese as they used elegantly crafted characters as opposed to nice, simple words- were still somewhat annoying for him to decipher.

“Brat.” Dr. Shamal greeted as the man walked in and flopped on Harry’s bed without bothering to knock, “You’re still working on that assignment?”

Harry shot the Doctor an unamused look, “It’s not my fault Papá is a perfectionist!” he protested with a pout.

The perverted doctor grinned at the boy, but didn’t reply to him, “Alright, brat, your dad has decided that since he’s going to let you go to school at Hogwarts- at least for a year or so, depending on how that Dumbledore guy behaves- and he doesn’t want you to go to the Mafia school just yet, that you’re leaving for Japan in a week.”

Shamal patiently waited out Harry’s rather amusing gob smacked expression and panicked spluttering before continuing in a cheery voice, “The reason that you’re going to Japan is that there is a series of towns there that are under the Vongola’s protection.  Namimori in particular is a big no-no for mafia conflict as the town is sacred as it sits in the general area that the Vongola Primo retired to when he left Italy around four hundred years ago.  Reborn is many things, brat, but stupid isn’t one of them, and Greatest Hitman in the World or not there are a lot of people who want him under their thumb and if they even had a hint about you, they’d have no issue using you to get to him.”

Harry nodded solemnly, “Yeah, we’ve talked about that a lot.  He’s friends with the Vongola Nono, isn’t he?  How do I explain my random appearance and European features, though?  Oh, and my name.”

The Italian cracked a grin at the boy, “Good forward thinking, brat.”  Harry blushed at the praise but held his head high instead of dropping his eyes to the ground like he would have a few months ago and Shamal’s grin widened in approval, “You’re getting better at accepting compliments, good job.   Anyways, your hair is dark enough to blend in just fine, and while your eye color is unusually vibrant, the Mist Flames that I placed on your glasses will help keep people from noticing too much, and the protection that your mother gave you will keep most people from looking too closely. 

The few who do will be Flame users, and Reborn called in a favor from a fellow Arcobaleno- the Mist one, actually- to make a bracelet for you to wear that acts like the enchantment does, so you’ll basically be fully covered.  This doesn’t mean for you to be stupid, of course as there are always ways around such things, but being that Namimori is pretty sacrosanct to the Vongola, you should be pretty well hidden.  Your name for your tenure in Japan will be ‘Nakamura Hikaru’.  Nakamura because it is incredibly common, and Hikaru because it is somewhat close to your actual name and your father is a possessive bastard, as the way he decided to write your name it means ‘shining light’ as in ‘sunlight’.”

Harry smiled as the man pulled out a bright blue folder with his new name embossed on it and tossed it towards the boy.  They had found out at the Bank that ‘Harry’ was just what his parents had told everyone his name was and as Lily was a ‘muggleborn’ everyone had apparently assumed that he had been named for his maternal grandfather, (Harry Evan, Petunia and Lily’s father), and the young Potter couple hadn’t followed the Old Magic system for naming Heirs. 

The fact of the matter was that his name was actually ‘Adriano James-Sirius Potter”, as the ritual demanded that each parent give a name enforced by their own Magic.  The way the ritual worked made his mother the ‘base’ parent and ‘added’ the other three, which worked out well because Lily was a ‘muggleborn’ and therefore she held no conflicting Family Magics.  Since Renato, (that was his father’s real name), was unavailable Lily substituted for him in the naming ritual as a ‘neutral party’. 

James and Lily had been vacationing in Pescara, Italy, in a lovely hotel that had a breathtaking view of the Adriatic Sea when they had met Renato, and wanting Renato to have a little influence on Harry’s life even though the man would likely never know of his contribution to the boy’s conception, Lily had chosen ‘Adriano’ in honor of that.  They called him ‘Harry’ to keep from having to explain why their English baby had a distinctly Italian name, and they had let everyone think that it was for James’ great-grandfather Hadrian Potter III.  Harry’s middle name was his mother’s actual contribution, for her paternal grandfather, Captain James Evans, who had fought in the Great War.  Sirius, his Godfather, had added his secondary middle name to make him a viable Heir of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Black should the line of succession ever fall to him, and his step-father had given him the Potter family name to made the boy a Potter by blood and Family Magic, which made him the official Heir of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter, even though James technically didn’t ‘father’ him.

Harry had found all of this out from his Papá during the week the man had stayed after Harry had woken up from the ritual to bond with his son.  Apparently James and Lily had left him a letter, just in case something had happened to them and Harry came to be in Renato’s care, the letter had also raised a lot of suspicion about Sirius Black, and him actually being guilty of the crime he was currently imprisoned for, but his Papá said that that issue would take a time and careful maneuvering to feel out properly because if Sirius was innocent and someone wanted him there bad enough to skip due process then they could easily kill him and then Harry would never know the truth.

Knowing that Harry wasn’t actually his name was kind of thrilling for the boy as he really didn’t have any good memories of that name being used anyways.  Shamal mostly called him ‘brat’ and his Papá mostly called him ‘little one’, so getting used to a new name wasn’t going to be all that difficult, although he was going to miss using his actual last name, as his Papá had explained that his stepfather had actually done a tremendous thing by allowing Harry to be the Potter Heir when he wasn’t even technically James’ son before the ritual.  The man had even died protecting Harry and his mother, and while Harry did his best to not dwell in the past like Papá told him, he was a little glad that the pendant that held his mother’s sacrificial enchantment was shaped to honor James Potter magical animal form, because Harry never wanted to forget how lucky he was to wake up every morning knowing that there were four people, (if you counted Sirius, which Harry did because that situation seemed really wrong), who loved him so much that two of them had died protecting him from a madman.

It still felt a little surreal some days, to be honest. 

Harry perused the contents of the folder, most of it was summarized in English on post-it notes, though the file was written in Japanese.  “Hmm, it says here that I’ll be staying in a flat above a flower shop?”

Shamal cracked an eye open and nodded, “Yeah.  Reborn doesn’t actually trust anyone with the knowledge of your existence, but there is an old associate of his that owes Reborn big time and will let you live in the small apartment above their shop as a favor.  As far as she knows you’re just some brat that Reborn wants watched over for some reason, and she didn’t live as long as she has without a healthy sense of self-preservation, so as long as you don’t go shouting your parentage from the rooftops you should be fine.  Your reason for being with her is that she is an old family friend, so you’ll call her ‘Asuka-obaa-san’, and she will basically be your caretaker.  In Japan, children are given a lot more freedom, but also a lot more responsibility, so don’t be too surprised by the rather ‘hand-off’ approach as opposed to what you’ve seen thus far.”

Harry grimaced as he thought about how stifling his Aunt was to Dudley, “It says that the school year lets out on July 20^th, and I’m supposed to arrive during the preparations for the Tanabata Festival- wow, shops are open on National holidays?  Weird.- to lower suspicion, so that means that I’ll be flying out next Monday, my birthday, with a stopover in Italy, and I will arrive in Namimori with my caretaker, Miss Asuka, on the 3^rd.”

“It’s ‘Asuka-obaa-san’, brat.” Shamal pointed out lazily as the man closed his eyes and continued in a bored tone,  “We’ll be speaking Japanese exclusively until you leave, starting now.  I’ll be accompanying you to Italy, where we will meet up with your new caretaker after you spend part of your birthday with your Papá.  You’ll fly out with her on the 1^st and arrive in Namimori on the 3^rd.  You only have to pack for the flight and the few days in between; we’ll ship the rest of it to Japan and have it delivered.”

Harry looked at the man who had changed his life so much in the last year and offered a wobbly smile.  Dr. Shamal was like a badass, crazy, perverted uncle and Harry would miss him.  Shamal must have noticed the look because he chucked a pillow at the boy and drawled, “Don’t give me that kicked puppy look, brat.  I know your Papa, I’m sure we’ll see each other again at least before you head off to Hogwarts.  I’m setting up the illusions to make people think you still live here- have I mentioned lately that your father is a paranoid bastard?- this week, and the echoes of the enchantment should take care of the rest.  You’ll go through two entire years of schooling in Japan and arrive back here in England sometime in August before your First Year.  Don’t ask me for particulars, that is all your paranoid father’s area of expertise.”

Harry grinned at the man, “Yeah, well, Papá says it’s not paranoia if they’re actually out to get you.”

“According to Reborn everyone wants a piece of him in some way.”

Harry burst out laughing, getting up from his chair and flopping ungracefully onto the bed beside Shamal, “I’m eight.  I don’t think I’m supposed to know that you were being perverted there, even if I don’t really get it.”

Shamal spluttered in vehement denial.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Dr. Shamal was a firm believer in the ‘immersion technique’, so by the time Harry disembarked at Aeroporto di Torino in Italia on his birthday, he was well and truly used to answering to ‘Hikaru’ and had a fumbling but basic grasp on the most common forms of etiquette that Japan practiced.

The crazy Italian had dropped Harry off at one of Reborn’s safe houses after the man had taken Hikaru out for a birthday lunch and said their ‘see you laters’ to one another, as Shamal had explained that assassins do not say goodbye to people that they plan to see again one day. 

Hikaru had just entered the small apartment when a weight impacted his chest, sending him stumbling back into the closed door.  “Hmph.” Came his father’s childish but amused voice, “I see that Shamal has been going easy on you.”

Hikaru grumbled as he rubbed the tender spot where his crazy Papá had kicked him but he was grinning at the suit wearing toddler-sized man, “Hardly, Papá, you’re just that awesome.”

Reborn fairly preened and Leon scampered over to nuzzle at Hikaru’s neck affectionately, “This is true.  Happy birthday, little one.”

The smile Hikaru gave in response was nearly blinding in its intensity, “Thanks, Papá.  I know that we don’t have long, but I-“ his voice faltered a little, but the boy stubbornly pushed through, “I’m really glad that I got to see you today, even if it is just for a little while.”

The Sun Arcobaleno’s black eyes softened slightly as he stared at his son.  It had been over half a year and the thought that this bright young boy was his still sent dark, possessive warmth curling through the cursed man’s very soul.  Renato had never been with a woman long enough to even think of planning a family, and then after the curse he had been too busy reconciling himself to what being an Arcobaleno meant to really think about such things, but James and Lily had been special, for all the brief time that he’d known them, and Reborn was deeply humbled that they had gone to such lengths to keep him included in Adriano’s life, even if they hadn’t meant to tell the boy about him until he was much older.

The fact of the matter is that James could have wanted Lily to terminate once they found out who had actually fathered Adriano, or Lily could have panicked and terminated her pregnancy on her own or used her magic to write Renato out of Adriano’s makeup entirely while the baby had still been developing, but they hadn’t even though it would have been easier for them.  That the young couple had chosen to include him, just because he had been there for them in their time of exploration and he had listened to their tales about their war with a sympathetic, but nonjudgmental ear meant a great deal to Reborn and he would do his damndest to make sure that his son lived a reasonably happy life, even if it meant that Reborn didn’t have the luxury of allowing his son to be ignorant of the darker aspects of the world, the Underworld especially.

All of this deep thinking, however, could wait for another time, as right now his son’s bright green eyes were focused solely on him, as if Reborn was the center of his son’s universe just for existing, and the Sun Arcobaleno wanted to engrave these moments so deeply into his heart and mind that no force from heaven, hell, or beyond could take them from him.  “Well,” he said in a light tone, “I suppose that since you are here I should give you your presents and we can have cake, even though you didn’t dodge my rather predictable kick.”

Hikaru’s grin turned cheeky, “You know, some kids get hugs from their parents.”

Reborn snorted with amusement as he hopped up to sit on his son’s shoulder, reclaiming Leon in the process, “I am much more awesome than that.”

Reborn had Leon change into a flyswatter so he could get his brat to stop laughing and start walking.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

“Hello, Hikaru-kun, I am Namishi Asuka, it’s nice to meet you, I expect you to address me as ‘Asuka-obaa-san’, alright?”” 

Hikaru bowed politely, mindful of his coffee-drinking father sitting on his shoulder, as he took in the woman who was to be his caretaker for the next two years.  Asuka-obaa-san was obviously of Asiatic decent, but there were a few European markers here and there; she stood about a head-and-a-half taller than Hikaru’s newly-judged height of four-foot-three, probably making her somewhere around five-foot-five or so, she had dark black hair that shined blue in the direct sunlight but was beginning to be streaked with white seemingly skipping directly over grey, deep purple eyes that were surrounded by those sort of wrinkles that form from laughing often, and a bearing that all but screamed kind but firm.

Hikaru thought that they would get along splendidly.  “Hello, Asuka-obaa-san, I’m Nakamura Hikaru, thank you for taking care of me.” He said softly, his perusal only taking a few moments, so he wasn’t being rude by ignoring her.

Asuka’s eyes sparkled and the creases around her eyes seemed to relax into something a little more genuine, “Aa, I think we’ll do just fine, Hikaru-kun.  Is there anything else, Reborn-san?”

“No, we’ve discussed everything important and you two have a flight to catch.  I expect nothing less than exemplary reports, Hikaru.” Reborn said sternly as Leon morphed into a tiny helicopter in preparation for the Sun Arcobaleno’s departure.

“Yes sir.” Hikaru said softly, relaxing as his Papá discreetly ran tiny fingers through his hair as an apology for needing to be so formal, even though Hikaru was well aware of why they needed to keep his parentage a secret, it still stung a little.

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The flights to get to Japan were used by caretaker and boy to chat amiably about their interests.  It seemed that Asuka-obaa-san’s flower shop was opened as an extension of her love of Ikebana- or the art of Japanese flower arrangement.

It was, apparently, far more detailed than just ‘cut flower and put in vase’.

“There are schools for specific branches,” Asuka explained to the fascinated boy excitedly, “but the basic history is that the first branch of Ikebana was known as Kuge, which were very simple arrangements made from a few flower stems and evergreen branches, but originally were only enjoyed by nobility.  The art evolved from there, and by the fifteenth century Ikebana had filtered down to the common classes and had become an integral part of the traditional festivals as exhibitions began to be held just for Ikebana itself. 

The first styles were characterized by a tall, upright central stem that had to be accompanied by two shorter stems.

During the Momoyama period, the late sixteenth century to the beginning of the seventeenth century, when splendid castles were being constructed all around the country, noblemen and royal retainers did large decorative Rikka floral arrangements that were used as a show of wealth and prestige.  The Rikka- or standing style- came about as a Buddhist expression of the beauty of nature, and key to this style are seven branches that represent elements of nature.  The seven branches of Rikka are: ryou (a peak), gaku (a hill), rou  (a waterfall), shi  (a town by the water), bi (a valley), you  (the sunlit side of the scene), in (the shady side of the scene).”

“Wow, that’s an intense amount of thought for flower arrangements.” Hikaru commented, glad that he had brought his notepad so that he could take notes, as this was pretty interesting and he had a niggling suspicion that this would be important to his future.

“Of course!  It’s a deeply spiritual process for most who practice the truly traditional forms of Ikebana.” Asuka explained chirpily, purposefully ignoring the grumbling man next to her who was complaining about talkative people and flowers being stupid and winking conspiratorially at Hikaru as she continued, “When the tea ceremony emerged the style that came with it was called Chabana and favored a far more simplistic approach than the grand Momoyama arrangements.  The Chabana style eventually gave rise to the Nageire, or non-structured, style which was the predecessor of the Seika (or Shōka) style which consists of only three ‘main branches’- known as 'ten' (heaven), 'chi' (earth), and 'jin' (human). It is a simple style that is designed to show the beauty and uniqueness of the plant itself, and eventually the Jiyūka style, which is a free creative design format not confined solely to flowers, just about any material can be used, came to be.”

Hikaru blinked slowly, “Wow, so it evolved from just arranging a couple of flowers and evergreen branches into an entire art form?”

“Yes!” Asuka sang out brightly as the plane began its decent, “The more common modern types are called, Moribana upright style, which is considered as the most basic structure in Ikebana as Moribana literally means ‘piled-up flowers’ and these arrangements are arranged in a shallow vase or basket, or the like and then secured on kenzan or needlepoint holders, also known as metal frogs.  Moribana slanting style is the reversed arranging style that can be used depending on the placement of the display or shapes of the branches and branches that look beautiful when slanted are mostly chosen for this arrangement as this style gives a softer impression than the upright style.  Then there is the Nageire upright style, which is arranged in a narrow-mouthed, tall container without using kenzan or needlepoint holders, as Nageire literally means ‘thrown in’, and this is a simple arrangement that can contain just one flower. Nageire slanted style presents a gentle touch and flexibility, and is ideal for Ikebana beginners as it has such a wide range of arrangements under its auspices. The final most common modern style is the Nageire cascading style and these arrangements have the main stem hanging lower than the rim of the vase with a flexible material being used to create beautiful lines balancing with the flowers.”

“Do you do all of these types of arrangements, Asuka-obaa-san?”  Hikaru asked curiously as they disembarked and made their way to get their luggage.

“Yes, I do!” she informed him happily, “I have my preferences, of course, but I’ve been taught all the different styles and can do them all with some level of satisfaction even if they are not my personal favorite.  You will have to help with the tending of the flowers, but I can help you with the basics for the modern styles so you can earn some extra money by helping me during the busy seasons.  Tanabata is a busy time for the shop, so this year you’ll just have to play errand boy, alright, Hikaru-kun? ”

Hikaru grinned up at her, “Sounds fun.”

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“Did I say fun?  I think I meant child slave labor.” Hikaru grumbled with a grin as Asuka sent him out on yet another errand.  Naturally, his comment only earned him a short laugh from Asuka’s assistant, Hinata-san, and a discarded bit of twine and cloth being chucked at his head from his oh-so-concerned caretaker.

“If you have time to whine you have time to work!” Asuka called after him as he made his way for the shop’s backdoor.

“Is that even a real saying?” he wondered out loud as he quickly shut the door behind him to avoid Asuka’s wrath.

It was officially the sixth of august and he had been in Namimori for about three days.  Shamal had been right when he said that Hikaru’s things would arrive before Hikaru himself did, what with all the layovers that he and Asuka had endured getting back to Namimori.

The first day Asuka had let him have mostly to himself to set up his living space and explore, but the two days after had been a whirlwind of activity as the woman hadn’t been joking about how busy the Tanabata season was for her shop.  It was a little strange to walk down the street and the setup for a festival while everyone was still scurrying about conducting business as usual when Hikaru was used to everything shutting down for a holiday, but it wasn’t bad just different. 

Also, there were people everywhere.  Not in a loitering sense, just they existed absolutely everywhere and it was taking a great deal of effort for Hikaru to stay calm, even with the herbal teas that Dr. Shamal had given him as a preemptive measure.

Hikaru had gotten quite familiar with the shop that Asuka got most of her needlework pieces from if she ran out of her own, along with the separate stores that sold the individual items that used for her arrangements.

That was another thing that took some getting used to for Hikaru.

What Hikaru had seen about flower arrangements in England was skewed, he would admit, but they were mostly based on how big they were or how much they cost.  The arrangements could be pretty, no doubt, and aesthetically pleasing when not overdone, but the Ikebana arrangements were just so different.  Not really better, per se, but they definitely carried a great deal more thought and effort than the cookie-cutter type of arrangements that he had seen back in Little Whinging, and after seeing the care that Asuka and her assistant put into their arrangements Hikaru kind of felt sad for the flowers that Uncle Vernon had bought Aunt Petunia that the woman had never truly appreciated.

The flowers only lived for a short time even if you didn’t cut them and no two were ever truly the same, so why would people focus on something stupid like how much they cost instead of appreciating them while they were still vibrant and beautiful?

People are weird.  Hikaru decided as he made his purchase and headed back towards Asuka’s shop, For focusing on such strange things.  Hinata-san likes to take the rejected flowers and press them in in books and then use them in her freeform pieces.  She takes the flowers that no one would want in their arrangement and makes them beautiful, and I’ve only been here a few days, I can’t wait to see what other new things I learn while I’m here.

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One of the basic Tenets of the Tanabata Festival was the writing of wishes on colored paper slips and hanging them from bamboo branches or poles that were hung over doorways.

Asuka actually used a tree in her backyard, as the shop had a fairly generous lot behind it to accommodate the greenhouse and the outdoor garden, and this year Hikaru’s wishes were small, but he wrote out several slips of things that he was thankful for and prayed extra hard that he would be able to continue to be thankful for them for years to come.

When Asuka went out early in the morning on the eighth of August to take the slips down and send Hikaru’s to Reborn, she nearly cried when she read the bright yellow slip that contained his wish.

Asuka had her suspicions about the boy but she liked Reborn, for all the asshole that he could be and Hikaru had been an absolute joy to have around thus far, even though she knew that she had been cranky lately from all the extra hours she had been putting in but the little boy hadn’t seriously complained once.   Instead he had snarked and teased and helped make sure that she and Hinata-chan remembered to eat and kept their spirits up as they worked through the busy time of year, so Asuka would keep her mouth shut and her thoughts to herself, and maybe next year she’d share little Hikaru’s wish, too.

My wish is for my Papá to be free of his curse so he can always be with me.

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Hikaru spent the next few weeks after Tanabata continuing to familiarize himself with Namimori when he wasn’t working in the shop with Asuka-obaa-san and Hinata-san and learning about Ikebana and other local things, on top of whatever worksheets his Papa sent for him over the laptop that he had received for his birthday.

(Mafia technology, much like magical innovations, were decades ahead of their nonmagical counterparts, though the Mafia ones were technology based, and so were simply ‘ahead of the game’ by a few decades.)

So, really, things were going things far too smoothly for him to not have another life altering event occur.

This particular life-altering event happened when he and Asuka-obaa-san went to enroll him at Namimori West Elementary, (Namimori had four public elementary schools), and they were sent to the office of one Roujirou Kaidou.

“Aa, good afternoon, Namishi-san, Hikaru-kun, please have a seat.”  The dark-haired, dark eyed young man gestured to the chairs positioned in front of his desk.

Hikaru was a bundle of nerves on the inside, terrified that something had gone wrong and something terrible was about to happen, even though Asuka was perfectly calm, “Is there something wrong, sir?”

Roujirou smiled kindly at the boy, “Not at all, Hikaru-kun.  Tell me, are you aware of the existence of the force commonly referred to as ‘magic’ by people of the West?”

Hikaru blinked slowly, relieved and even more confused at the same time, “Yes?” he said hesitantly.

Asuka laughed lightly and patted his hand in a gesture of fond affection, “You’ll have to excuse my nephew, he has heard about the existence of ‘magic’ from an associate of mine, but he hasn’t really had our view of things explained to him, I thought it best to wait until we went to enroll him.”

Roujirou nodded agreeably as he settled himself back against his chair, and made a hand gesture for his visitors to get more comfortably settled as well as he glanced down at the file on his desk, “From what your file says, you came from England originally, and while you are currently staying with Namishi-san, it says that your parents wanted you to attend their alma mater Hogwarts, which is the best European school for the ‘magical’ arts.  That being said, things are done much differently here in the East, first and foremost we do not refer to our gift as ‘magic’ but as ‘reiki’.  There is actually now a nonmagical movement of alternate healing that goes by the same name, but we have called our internal energy this for as long as our recorded history stretches.”

Hikaru gaped, “Wow, that’s so cool!”

The teacher smiled indulgently at the boy, “I’m glad you think so, you’ll learn about it in your history classes.  In the West children start the magical education at the age of eleven and only those who are able to bond with a conduit are trained to use their talents.  Here in the East, as long as a person has enough reiki to activate the identifying strip at the entrance to every school in Japan’s educational authority- as you did when you walked through the door when you entered- the child begins their training in the second year of elementary school, so you are about a term behind, but it won’t be terribly difficult for you to catch up. 

What Westerners refer to the ‘magical core’ we refer to as the ‘reiki mainspring’.  The distinction between the two terms is that Westerners bind their ‘magic’ to a conduit, meaning that if their ‘magic’ level isn’t high enough to bind to a conduit; they are discarded by the magical community.

However, here in the East, we do not bind our supernatural talents to conduits in the same manner at least, definitely not so young, and so our community is much more diverse and therefore widespread.  Our system works in conjunction with our ‘nonmagical’ education system, the supernatural classes taking place on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday afternoons, and one Sunday a month.  Namishi-san, as a traditional practitioner of Ikebana will be able to help you catch up in your classes, as our children are taught to channel their reiki into their disciplines before they learn to use their reiki to shape the world around them.”

Hikaru’s brow wrinkled a little in consternation and Roujirou paused and nodded encouragingly, “Why are things done so differently?”

“It is covered in your History classes, but it basically comes down to how we perceive our gifts.  I cannot personally speak for Westerners, but from what I have observed of their practices they tend to neglect their physical aspect and rely heavily on their conduits and established spells that are spoken in ancient languages, as the modern ones cannot carry the power of our supernatural gifts.” The teacher explained patiently, “Easterners, well, our philosophy was best summed up by one of our own nearly a thousand years ago when he said, ‘The power to overcome reasoning is born from reasoning.  Reiki is not a spontaneous miracle.  When the ‘spirit’ flow within us and the ‘spirit’ flow of nature connects, they will form an embodiment for the first time.  You will need a strong mentality and intense concentration to achieve victory as it is the pouring of all of your soul into whatever it is that you do that allows the use of reiki.’”

“I’m kind of following you, I think.”

The man gave out a warm laugh, “Call me Kaidou-sensei, Hikaru-kun, as I will be one of your teachers this coming term.  In the most basic sense, we believe that it is important for our children to be deeply connected to the spiritual gifts, as we believe that reiki to be a mix of spiritual and physical energies and inherent to our wellbeing as opposed to our Westerns counterparts, but that is a rather philosophic tangent that we won’t get into right now.  The first few months of your classes will be rather chaotic until you find an activity that you truly enjoy.”

Hikaru gave him a rather puzzled look.

“While we would ideally have you little gakis doing hours of meditation to connect with your inner mainsprings that is just not a feasible option at your ages; so to circumvent that issue we require that you pick two activities that you enjoy and pour your efforts into them wholeheartedly.  You see, as I already mentioned, Namishi-san, as a traditional Ikebana practitioner, will be a great help to you in your spiritual studies as even if you personally don’t feel a great passion for Ikebana, your immersion in the environment will give you a much greater appreciation for the art, and help you find inner balance while performing it.”

“What I have personally observed, having lived abroad for several years,” Asuka cut in serenely, “is that children who grow up under the Eastern method tend to be far less flashy in their way of doing things with their spiritual energies, and they also tend to use them less frivolously.  I, we, are not trying to speak ill of your parents’  kin, but most of the serious breaches of the Statute of Secrecy come from their area of Central Europe, because those ‘magicals’ rely so heavily on their ‘magic’ that they are absolutely helpless without it for every trifling thing.  Most European magicals view their nonmagical counterparts like you would a monkey in a zoo.”

Hikaru gave her an absolutely disgusted look, “What?”

Kaidou-sensei nodded somberly, “It is true, and I admit that I am probably not being nearly as impartial as I am attempting to be in this matter.  Here in the East we have our own issues, but we have always lived relatively harmoniously with our, er, nonmagical counterparts.” Kaidou-sensei looked like the words physically pained him, but there really wasn’t a better way to put things at the moment, “However, despite being the cause of them, Central Europe suffered the most from tragedies such as the Crusades, the Inquisitions, the Witch Hunts, and the list goes on and on, and the reason that Italy follows the Eastern method for educating their children with spiritual gifts rather speaks for itself, no?”

“So you’re saying that their approach to their educational system was founded during times of crisis and has since stagnated?” Hikaru delved into all the lessons that he had learned since his Papa and Dr. Shamal had popped into his life as he thought over everything Asuka and Kaidou-sensei had told him thus far.

Kaidou-sensei smiled and Asuka-obaa-san laughed brightly, as sensei leaned forward and said in a conspiratorial voice, “I think that I’m going to enjoy your homework assignments, Hikaru-kun.”

From there the discussion descended into technicalities, and Hikaru found that he rather liked the way things would unfold, and Kaidou-sensei gave him an over-sized rubber band thing to wear that the man explained let the reiki strips on the school doorways know that he had been accounted for so he didn’t set them off again, he got to pick the color as they were a rather common fashion item and so he picked a bright yellow one.

He also found out that a lot of his classes for his non-spiritual education were going to be covering the written language, as katakana and kanji were notoriously difficult and so took up a lot of time for younger children. 

Apparently remembering that he was from an English speaking country at the last moment, Kaidou-sensei gave him an English test, and when Hikaru showed that he had an incredible grasp on the language in both spoken and written form, sensei stepped out for a moment and came back with a young woman who he introduced as Yukio-sensei, the English teacher, and after having a conversation with her, Hikaru somehow was volunteered to be her assistant while Asuka just watched it all happen.

So, his finalized schedule was pretty packed, as most second year elementary students, (which he was, apparently, because of when his birthday fell), only had a single class in the afternoon, instead Hikaru was going to be busy at school from eight thirty in the morning to four thirty in the afternoon on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, and eight thirty in the morning to three thirty in the afternoon on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, not to mention helping Asuka-obaa-san, whatever his crazy Papa wanted done, and his homework.

Hikaru was going to be incredibly busy.

Thankfully, his English assistant-thing doubled as most of his cleaning duties.

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Hikaru thought that the yellow hat that he had to wear as an elementary student was a bit ridiculous, but other than that his new school was pretty cool.  Nearly half of the kids in his regular classes were in his reiki ones, so he didn’t feel like a freak or a weirdo, and the terms that they used in the extra classes were general enough to be bandied about in the hallway during breaks.

The Japanese school year ran from early April to July 20^th, then there was break, then mid-September to December 25^th, and then mid-January to mid-March.  Since Hikaru’s birthday fell after the end of the first term, he wasn’t actually behind all that much, as the classes were numbered by the term that you started.  He had the weird experience of being hated for being a foreigner and being adored for being that ‘cool foreign guy’ at the same time.

Not that he had any time to contemplate any of that.

September had flown by in a haze and November wasn’t going any slower, but honestly Hikaru loved his life.

He woke up every morning to prerecorded messages from his Papá.  How the man had managed to rig his laptop to open and be creepy at exactly six every morning, Hikaru would never know.

He’d then go downstairs and help Asuka-obaa-san tend the flowers and get ready for the day, before scampering back upstairs to shower.  While Asuka didn’t have to feed him, and was technically only there to make sure he didn’t accidentally off himself, he found that she apparently genuinely liked him and insisted that he have breakfast with her, she even made him a bento for school, which was a huge deal here in Japan.

Seriously, there were some mothers who got up at, like, three in the morning, just to make their kids’ lunches, and the order that you ate it in was important.  It was so strange to Hikaru.

Then it was school and trying to decipher katakana and kanji, (at this point Hikaru was going to learn Ancient Egyptian just to prove that the pictures would be easier to decipher), and those just made his head hurt, then helping Yukio-sensei, which was fun, and then his other before lunch classes.

Lunch was his favorite, though.

Because lunch meant that he could walk around and put his Aikido and Jujutsu practice to use.  Jujutsu was actually what Dr. Shamal had been teaching him the basics of, because it focused on ‘fighting smarter not harder, you’re not a tank, brat’.  Hikaru had taken up learning Aikido because it was a prerequisite for any of the blade wielding clubs at the middle school level, and, well, he was in Japan and swords were awesome.

(His Papá had laughed at him the last time they had talked over his laptop, but Hikaru had stuck his tongue out at the man and pointed out that he was nine.)

Granted, he wasn’t all that great at it yet, but his Aikido was his secondary reiki discipline, (Ikebana was his first, it was surprisingly soothing, even if learning to make the needlepoint pieces was driving him insane), so he kind of had a cheat, but still lunchtime meant finding the idioti who thought that they could pick on smaller, meeker kids in his schoolyard.

Hikaru refused to allow the travesty that had been Harry Potter’s early elementary school existence to continue when he could do something about it.

So, when he came across a group of morons bullying a tiny little nursery brat on his first day here, he had sent them on their way with a healthy dose of fear imparted into them, took the tiny boy back to the nurse to clean up, and then escorted him back to his class, (Namimori West and the Namimori West Nursery, which was basically the kindergarten, used the same building), and on that day bullies had begun to fear the distinctive drawl of Nakamura Hikaru.

(Over in Italy, Reborn puffed up like a proud mamma bird as he watched his son stalk around the school like he owned the place, although he began to suspect that his son might have a secondary Flame, what with the patrolling that he was doing.)

So, truly, was it any surprise that on that sunny, somewhat chilly November day as he made his way out to the grounds that were shielded from the teacher’s prying eyes, his path was halted by a tiny Hibari Kyouya?

“Fight me, carnivore!” The six-year-old demanded as threw himself forward at the elder boy.

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The little brat was fierce, Hikaru would give him that, and had probably been trained since the time he could toddle, but Hikaru hadn’t spent the better part of six months being taught self-defense by an assassin that had been offered a place in the Vongola’s Independent Assassination Squad- commonly referred to as the Varia- for show.

Of course, Hikaru was also a Sun Flame user, Inverted like his father but with more of a Soft Flame, which meant that he was incredibly empathetic through skin contact, if he directed his Flames to do so.  So on a whim he did, and he was nearly overwhelmed as their blows connected, and Hikaru could feel the desperationpushpushpushneverenough- that broiled angrily under the child’s skin.

In a startling moment of clarity that nearly cost him an injured rib, Hikaru realized that this kid had strength but no purpose. He was being pushed and prodded and was never good enough for whoever it was- his family, most likely- but for whatever reason he already knew that he’d never be who they wanted, so he’d given up while he was still fighting, it was a migraine inducing conundrum.

Still, as Hikaru gazed down at the form huddled in the corner of the hallway after the fight ended, teeth bared in warning, bruises forming where Hikaru had hit him a little harder than he’d intended, and a wounded look in his eyes, the older boy couldn’t bring himself to simply walk away.

Walking a little closer and forcibly ignoring the stiffening of the boy’s frame and the feral panic that was causing tears to form, Hikaru crouched down in front of the kid close enough to keep him from running, but far enough away to give him a little space, “Hey.  I’m Nakamura Hikaru, it’s nice to meet you.”

The boy glared at Hikaru distrustfully, and it took several long, uncomfortable minutes during which Hikaru’s legs began to go numb for the boy to uncoil enough to rub angrily at his eyes and deigned to respond, “Hibari Kyouya.” He muttered.

Hikaru hummed lightly and sat back on his heels, “You’re pretty good, Kyouya-kun.”

“I didn’t win!” the boy burst out suddenly, his previous composure all but shattered, “I didn’t win and I’m the one that challenged you that means that I’m worthless, that I’m nothing-“

“Stop.  Right.  There.”  Hikaru’s voice was unyielding, causing the boy to instantly comply, “Look, you called me a carnivore, right?”

The boy nodded hesitantly.

Hikaru winked cheekily at the younger boy, and reached out to ruffle Kyouya’s hair, ignoring the kid’s attempt at dodging, “Well, sometimes more experienced carnivores teach less experienced ones for a while, and even still others sometimes hunt together on occasion.  Now, why was it so important that you fight me and win?”

“You’ve taken over the school and shown the herbivores their place, no one crowds you.  I wanted to beat you so that I could take your place.” Kyouya said matter-of-factly.

Hikaru took a minute to translate all of that, good thing that Dudley had gone through a whole ‘I wanna be king of the jungle’ phase, or he’d be completely lost.  “So, you saw me putting the bullies in their places and you wanted to do that too?”

Kyouya blinked slowly, “Bullies?” he asked blandly.

Hikaru sighed and made himself more comfortable.  This is going to take a while.

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Hikaru leaned back in his desk chair and ran a critical eye over his cumulative essay for his reiki classes.

‘The reiki mainspring is the place wherein the energies of the physical and the mental meet and are transformed into spiritual energy, which is referred to as reiki.  The mainspring does not have an actual physical location, but when utilizing meditation a person will usually choose a personally significant area of their body to direct their flow of reiki towards to enhance the benefits that meditation can provide.

One of the most basic exercises taught to children is the active circulation of reiki throughout the body, this action becomes so ingrained that by the time we reach middle school it had become instinctive to perform at least twice a day- once in the morning and once at night, usually before bed, to assist in soothing any imbalances we might have incurred throughout the day.

It is important for one to keep their reiki balanced by engaging in both physical and mental pursuits, as unbalanced reiki can become sluggish and lethargic, eventually acting in a manner not unlike a slow-acting poison if left unchecked.

This is not to say that every person who is able to utilize reiki is a star athlete or a genius. 

Two examples of physical pursuits would be an occasional walk while actively circulating one’s reiki throughout the body or the arranging of a Moribana Upright Style Ikebana and circulating one’s reiki while preparing the arrangement.

Two examples of mental pursuits would be playing a game of shôgi while actively circulating one’s reiki throughout the body or reading a book slightly above one’s grade level while circulating one’s reiki throughout the body.

The reiki mainspring is depleted throughout the day by a person’s body and mind becoming taxed and tired, so proper resting habits are essential to maintaining balance to one’s inner energies, as are healthy eating habits, and general hygiene.

At the age of fifteen in Japan, a person may choose to bond with a conduit, usually these are family heirlooms such as swords or fans or the like. 

In the West, wands are the most common form of conduit, and some Japanese choose to use them, but most Warding and Enchanting are done with items passed down through family lines or made by the person themselves under the instruction from a Shrine Master.  Wands are generally only useful for spell casting, and most Japanese have a preference for technology, so while wands exist in Japan, they are not tracked or traced and are generally thought of in the same, bemused manner as enthusiastic tourists.

It should be noted, that the ‘Unforgivable Three’: the Avada Kedavra Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, and the Imperious Curse, carry an instant death sentence, as the emotions required to cast those curses are so foul, and the reiki so shattered and unbalanced, that the Asiatic Ministries have Zero Tolerance for them.  These curses can only be cast with a wand, and any person who enters the Asiatic Ministerial Authority with a wand signs a binding Magical Vow to this effect, which follows both the wand and the owner.

In conclusion, daily circulation of reiki throughout the body is important, and the balance of one’s reiki is paramount, this includes taking care of your body’s basic needs.  Conduits are allowed and sometimes necessary, but should not be used as crutches. Lastly, the Unforgivable Curses should never be thought of if you wish to remain among the living as they are twisted, foul things that should be forever stricken from the pages of history and have no redeeming qualities.

Hikaru sighed and rolled his shoulders, deciding that the report was as good as it was going to get, mentally rather thankful that his handwriting had finally improved so his father had stopped making him rewrite every other assignment.  It didn’t matter that Hikaru had already handed some of them in by the time Reborn got around to reading the scanned copies that Hikaru sent him, those assignments he had to translate and write in French or Italian and rewrite.

Jerk.  The nine-year-old thought fondly as he tidied up his desk, glancing at the clock quickly and mentally calculating how long he had before-

“I’m here for the Experienced Carnivore.” Came a young voice from downstairs, and Hikaru didn’t know whether to laugh or bang his head on a wall.

Since that day in November, Kyouya had stuck to him like glue, although their relationship was a strange one.

For one, Hikaru was forever ‘Experienced Carnivore’ despite his best efforts at getting the little brat to use his name.  For another, Kyouya had a tendency to classify everyone as ‘Carnivores’ with a capital letter or ‘herbivores’, no capital letter needed.  Hikaru had managed to get the boy to add a third category of ‘Small Animal’, after many, many, many hours of patient, painstaking explanation about how it was the Carnivores jobs to make sure that the Small Animals flourished by punishing the herbivores.

So, now the rule-breakers were referred to as herbivores.  Kyouya now referred to everyone else as a Small Animal as long as they kept their heads down and followed the rules of the school and Hikaru, (because Kyouya acknowledged Hikaru and therefore allowed Hikaru to make the rules).

It wasn’t the most well-adjust worldview, but it was a hell of a lot better than it had been a month and a half ago.

Hikaru had found out that Kyouya lived in a really big mansion in a rather secluded area of Namimori, but he didn’t really think that Kyouya was all that close with his family.  Whether it was a cultural difference or there was something strange going on in the Hibari household, he didn’t know, but Hikaru was determined to do what he could for Kyouya.

Hikaru swept into the shop’s backroom just as Kyouya’s hated for crowds was about to reach its limit, said a quick goodbye to an amused Hinata-san and an equally amused Asuka-obaa-san, and got them both out of the shop.

The two boys had taken to learning parkour on top of everything else, because Hikaru had learned that Kyouya’s hatred of crowds was a very real, very potent thing.

They were still falling and misjudging distances a lot, but Hikaru privately thought that the amount of times that they had to catch and help each other was doing more good for Kyouya than any words that he could come up with, so he simply kept pushing forward.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Christmas was celebrated in Japan; it just wasn’t the huge deal that it was back in England.

Still, Hikaru hadn’t expected Kyouya to shut down just because he’d gotten him a Christmas present.

“Look, Kyou-kun, it’s fine. It’s just a little thing, I grew up in England, remember?  I didn’t expect anything from you; I got you something because I wanted to, because Christmas is a thing to me.  You’re my first friend you know?  The first person my age I’ve ever gotten a present for!  Sheesh, brat, say something, will you?”

Kyouya was still staring transfixed at the brightly wrapped box in his small hands as if he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to smash or if it would bite him.

It would be an entirely amusing expression for Hikaru to witness on the normally unflappable Hibari Kyouya if it was so incredibly sad.

“But.” Kyouya’s brows drew together in consternation, “I didn’t do anything.”

Hikaru smiled and he ran one of his hands through Kyouya’s soft hair, “You go running with me, don’t you?  You help catch me when I don’t quite make the jumps between roofs, and you help me patrol, you do lots of stuff for me, Kyou-kun!”

Kyouya looked up and Hikaru’s heart ached to see the absolutely lost look in his friend’s steel-grey eyes, “Those are all duties, you don’t get present for doing your duties.  They’re expected of you.”

Hikaru knelt down to be eye level with Kyouya, who was still in the latter stages of baby height, and looked the other directly in the eye, absently slipping his glasses up so that his eye were entirely unobstructed.  “Kyouya-kun, they might be duties, they might be important, and they might be expected, but that doesn’t make the fact that you do them with me any less appreciated.  At any rate, those reasons are not why I got you something.  I got you a present because I, personally, celebrate Christmas, and I wanted you, my friend, to know that you’re important to me, alright?”

Kyouya sort of mechanically nodded and stiffly made his way towards the door, which didn’t surprise Hikaru, even though it was technically quite rude.

Hikaru also wasn’t particularly surprised to be woken up at five in the morning by a tap on his window, or by the subsequent demand that Hikaru stop lazing about and come running with Kyouya.

Hikaru never mentioned the fact that Kyouya was wearing Hikaru’s Christmas present and Kyouya never brought it up.

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January brought a new term, and between trying to make Kyouya see the world in somewhat human terms, and all of his other duties the months sped past.  So, before he really had time to think about it, the end of term was upon them and with it exam season. When it was all said and done he and Kyouya had managed to be in the top five percent of their respective classes, and Kyouya had actually relaxed a little.

Not a lot, but a little.

Progress.

However, word about Nakamura Hikaru and his faithful shadow had spread and there were more than a few recently graduated bullies who wanted some payback, something that their new middle school associate were more than happy to assist with.

It really is a shame that they went for Kyouya, because if they had gone for Hikaru directly, things would have turned out much differently.

Hikaru would have gone much easier on them, if they hadn’t targeted his friend.

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It was March, late March to be exact.

School had been out for about a week and a half, and Kyouya and Hikaru had been finding time to practice their parkour every day.

Kyouya smiled to himself as he nimbly scaled another building and hopped over the ledge, sprinting the short distance to the opposite ledge and gracefully throwing himself over the side and hooking his hands on the rails of the next building’s fire escape. 

Even after all these months it was still hard to think about how good he had it now that he had Hikaru.  (Though he still called the other boy ‘Experienced Carnivore’ just to see that stupidly resigned expression on his face.)  When Kyouya had challenged the older boy back in November, the young Hibari had just wanted to assert his dominance and take over Hikaru’s position, he hadn’t wanted a friend- friends were unnecessary weaknesses.

Then Nakamura Hikaru happened.

The boy was a constant source of contradictions, but the older boy was patient and slowly Kyouya began to see how the world worked from Hikaru’s point of view, and Kyouya liked it.

Looking back and being brutally honest with himself, Kyouya had been little more than a walking disaster before Hikaru had taken him under his wing.  He might have the Hibari name, and good grades, and be hailed by most of the herbivores as a prodigy, but Kyouya knew the truth.

Hibari Kyouya was a failure.

His mother was the Hibari princess and she had managed to ensnare one of the Chinese Triad Specialists with her beauty and vicious wit, but Kyouya had tested negative for all of the specialty traits that the Triads were known for, which he was equal parts grateful and resentful for.  Grateful, because while he didn’t particularly feel bad about disciplining stupid herbivores he had no desire to kill people for those shadowy bastards agendas, and resentful, because it made him useless to his family.  To outsiders, they were the perfect, untouchable Hibari clan, perfect and brilliant and ruthless, but internally Kyouya knew he’d never inherit unless there was no other choice, and while his Uncle, the clan head, was a fair man, his mother blamed Kyouya for her plan to acquire one of the Triad’s specialty skills failure.

Never mind, that the Triads hadn’t lost one of their specialty skills in over two thousand years, she firmly believed that something was wrong with Kyouya and that was reason enough to undermine everything he accomplished as if his achievements meant nothing.

Then Hikaru came in and beat him but still wanted him and that was strange but the other boy hadn’t let him go, not matter how much Kyouya had pushed against him and been purposefully obstinate, the older boy hadn’t given up.  Kyouya paused long enough to run his fingers over the fringe of the jacket that Hikaru had gotten for Christmas, it was getting too warm to wear it, but Kyouya refused to relinquish it, not for anything.

Kyouya felt something at the edge of his senses and reached for his tonfa, he’d only recently taken to carrying them, and he took out two of his attackers before he was overwhelmed.

A pop, a wet feeling, and darkness.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

The phone slipped from Hikaru’s numb, nerveless fingers.

Those bitches had taken Kyouya.  To get to Hikaru.  Because he and Kyouya hadn’t let them beat the shit out of little kids.

Nakamura Hikaru’s blood was roaring in his ears, and his heartbeat was strangely loud.  Then a calm settled over him, focused and dangerous, his awareness falling into a colder mentality as he began to plan to get his friend back and to make sure to do it in such a way that this would never happen again.

The perpetrators had taken up residence at Namimori Middle School, the main co-ed public middle school for Namimori, and had been kind enough to leave Kyouya alone long enough for Kyouya to call the secret number that Hikaru had given him months ago to only call in a dire emergency.

Hikaru scouted the place for nearly an hour, it was twilight, and he had nearly thirty opponents.  Though only about ten of them seemed to truly be in on the plan, the other just seemed like muscle.  They all seemed to be members of a club of some sort, but that was unimportant information, all that mattered right now was rescuing Kyouya and teaching these bitches a putain de lesson.

The school was somewhat rundown, a few windows busted and badly patched, the grounds holding some litter, the walls some graffiti, the structure showing some disrepair, and the students obviously running roughshod.  Hikaru used all of this to his advantage as he ghosted his way over the grounds, scaled the building, and slipped inside, slipping into the shadows whenever he encountered someone on his way towards the location that he’d deduced Kyouya was being held. 

Then he heard Kyouya- quiet, proud, fierce Kyouya- scream.

Hikaru ran towards the source of the scream, his body reacting to the people coming towards him violently and without hesitation.  Specifically targeting the soft areas of the body, and putting extra effort into making sure they stayed down, he cut through the press of adversaries without mercy as he circulated his reiki and his Sun Flames, taking absolutely no chances with this fight.

Hikaru was bleeding and aching by the time he made it to the room that they were holding Kyouya in, but then he actually saw his friend.

His battered friend, who was strapped to a chair, a trio of older, (were they high schoolers?)  Kyouya was six!  Six!), hulking, smug assholes standing loosely around him with their back to the open door, one with a cigarette dangling loosely from his hand.

Kyouya had burn marks littering his skin, along with cuts and bruises, and his jacket- the Christmas present Kyouya guarded almost closer than his life sometimes, was torn and strewn with blood.

“Oi, Ken, bring that other brat in here, this one isn’t fun anymore.” Idiot Number One said without turning around.

Hikaru didn’t pause; he unconsciously copied his escape Activation and appeared behind the biggest one, a kick sending the idiot to the floor, out cold.  Hikaru placed himself firmly between Kyouya and the other two morons.  “You.” Hikaru said, low and dangerous and frigid, “Have tortured my friend.  To get to me.  And for what?  Because we wouldn’t let you pieces of shit beat up little kids?  You make me sick.  Make no mistake, you reign ends here.”

Idiot Number One snorted, “Our backup will be here soon, brat.  Even if you take us down, we’re school Prefects, what are you going to do about it?”

Idiot Two went down with punch to the gut before he could open his mouth, and Hikaru shoulder-checked Idiot One before the moron could consider grabbing Kyouya, they grappled for a while, but Hikaru was still cheating like the bastard that he was, and he was quick to grab Kyouya and made his way to where he surmised the nurse’s office was, quickly stripping the younger boy down and cleaning his injuries, before directing his sun bright fire into them, not caring that it was mixing with his reiki as he willed the injuries to heal and close.

Kyouya’s eyes fluttered open at one point and the boy smiled, bright and happy, “’Karu-nii, you came for me.” He cried out weakly.

“Always, Kyouya.  Always.”

It took another fifteen minutes to finish treating Kyouya, and by then Hikaru was truly surprised that none of the idiots had woken up yet.  Hearing how many thugs they had sent to take Kyouya down really had sent Hikaru’s blood boiling all over again, and when the promised reinforcements arrived nearly an hour after Hikaru’s initial assault, both boys were ready and waiting, having already called Kyouya’s house to tell his rather lackadaisical caretakers that the boy was staying over with Hikaru, and Hikaru called to let Asuka-obaa-san know that he would be out late.

They tore through the reinforcements, side by side.

Some of the reinforcements chose to stand down when they saw that their opponents were elementary-age students, and others when they saw that the two were shredding through the much older, taller, tougher opponents without issue.

In the end, Hikaru and Kyouya ended up with nearly as many conscripted subordinates as they had unconscious or defeated opponents.

At some point during the fighting, Hikaru noticed light purple flashes that occasionally lit the slightly worn tonfa that Kyouya had taken to carrying recently, and the older boy was fairly certain that Kyouya had noticed the sun bright flashes that accompanied some of Hikaru’s own strikes, but between laying down the Rules and Regulations for the newly formed Namimori Middle School Disciplinary Committee- of which they were all now members of or else- and dragging themselves back to Hikaru’s apartment, they fell asleep before they could talk about it.

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The next few weeks were full of negative reinforcement for people who were senseless enough to try to challenge Hikaru and Kyouya’s authority, implementing organizational structure, and keeping the former delinquents-turned-Committee-Members busy with constructive tasks.  Constructive tasks meaning that they needed money for said tasks, which mainly meant gutting the school of misappropriating and any form of ineptitude- unfortunately, there was a lot of that present at Nami-chuu, so it essentially boiled down to the Committee taking over the school.

Hikaru’s Papá was insufferably smug about it all, too.

So, school had actually started again and it was nearly Kyouya’s birthday before the two actually had time to sit down and talk.

It was honestly both on of the greatest and worst conversations of Hikaru’s life.

Greatest, because Hikaru had told Kyouya absolutely everything.  Including the fact that Hikaru would at least be leaving for one year at Hogwarts.

Worst, because Kyouya had not reacted well to the idea of Hikaru leaving.  Actually, it had been the first time that Hikaru had ever seen Kyouya truly break down, and it had been terrifying.  The boy had gone stone cold silent and then he had thrown his arms around Hikaru, trapping the older boy’s arms against his sides, and sobbed entirely silently into the older boys’ shirt.  After a few minutes he had composed himself, but he hadn’t let go and hadn’t let Hikaru hold him as he asked quietly if Hikaru would forget him.

“Never.” Hikaru had vowed fiercely, peeling Kyouya off him just far enough to grab the boy’s left hand, the traditional oath hand, “French, Spanish, Italian, Mandarin, English or Japanese?”

What Hikaru was suggesting was a ceremony in which an elder person- usually someone thought to be a sibling- would bestow a mark upon a younger member of their family.  It was considered a sign of great trust and the elder sibling was honored by the younger one accepting the gift.

Kyouya blinked slowly, the last vestiges of tears falling way from his lashes, not truly grasping the situation yet, but answering all the same, “Mandarin.  My…father, it is his native language.”

Hikaru nodded resolutely and moved to his desk, removing his reiki calligraphy pen and returning to return to kneel in front of Kyouya, who finally seemed to catch on to what was happening, “My right pectoral.” He said firmly shrugging off his shirt as Hikaru moved to engrave the characters for constant, ‘不變’ onto the other boy, nicking his thumb with the tip of the pen before setting it against Kyouya’s skin, where he mixed his reiki and his Flames together as the pen penetrated the first layer of skin and inlaid the inky-blood-reiki-Flame mixture beneath it.

(He knew key phrases in Mandarin; this was one of them, fortunately.  For as young as he was, Kyouya was a good teacher.)

“My father,” Kyouya spoke slowly as Hikaru worked methodically, “Is one of the Chinese Triad Specialists. I was supposed to be special.  I’m not.  I’m just better than most.” He finally admitted as Hikaru sat back to admire his calligraphy work, suddenly incredibly thankful that his father had been such a stickler about his handwriting.

“You’re ridiculous, Kyou-kun.” Hikaru said in bemusement, interested despite himself as Kyouya hardly ever talked about his family, and he had never talked about his father, “Or have you forgotten that we, a nearly-seven-year-old and a nine-year-old just took over a middle school and an organization comprised mostly of middle school and high school students?”

Kyouya huffed a laugh as he admired his new marking; the beauty of the small ritual they had just performed was that no one but them could see the marking, as the sigil was a symbol of their bond of brotherhood, one that Kyouya had recognized as the Hibari clan had long been responsible for the Namimori Shrine, though it was a branch family currently in charge of running it.

“I’m serious, they have lines whose secret technique is turning into a living bomb that doesn’t kill the user, or manipulating shadows, or even those who specialize in interrogation techniques that have never been spoken of outside the Triad T&I Rooms in nearly five millennia.”

“And somehow you were supposed to break this streak?  Do you even know what your super-secret Specialist father’s name is?”

Kyouya grinned up at Hikaru from where he sprawled on the futon that they’d set up for the younger boy to use, as they’d planned on the boy staying over with Hikaru, “Fēng.  My Father’s name is Fēng, I’ve never actually met him, but he is supposedly the strongest Martial Artist that the Triad have, and he is said to be a Master in over 107 styles.  My Uncle says that my father is the reason that the Triad are still in power despite their small numbers.”

Hikaru was still caught up on the name.

Master of 107 styles.  Fēng. 

The Storm Arcobaleno.

I need to talk to Papá.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Hikaru’s time in Japan drew to a close in a blink of an eye.

At least, that was what it felt like to the boys.  Kyouya’s seventh and eighth birthdays had passed and it was a week before Hikaru’s eleventh, but Hikaru’s Papá had informed him that he absolutely had to be in England by the twenty-ninth of July, so he was leaving in a few hours, which wasn’t making Hikaru or Kyouya very happy at all.

“I still say that we just bite the herbivore to death and be done with it, Experienced Carnivore.” Kyouya grumbled from where he was sulking on Hikaru’s bed, pointedly not helping the other boy pack.

Hikaru gave the boy a fondly exasperated look, “Papá says that if that man doesn’t keep his schemes to himself, I’ll be back for the January term, Kyou-kun, and you do remember how nasty my Papá’s contingency plans can be, don’t you?”

Kyouya’s lips curled into what could be called a bloodthirsty grin in a few years, but for now was just a rather disturbingly cute smirk that did not match the murderous look in his steel-grey eyes, “Yes, that one is a True Carnivore.”

“I’m beginning to think you only hang around with me for my father, Kyou-kun.”

“The truth is often unpleasant, Experienced Carnivore.”

“Gaki!” Hikaru rounded on his friend and pounced on him, grappling with the younger boy until he’d wrestled him into submission, a considerably harder task than it had been a scant two years ago.  “Surrender!” Hikaru demanded with a taunting grin.

Kyouya bared his teeth in challenge, “Never!”

They were interrupted by the Disciplinary Committee Second-in-Command, Kusakabe Tetsuya, knocking on the door and asking for permission to enter.  Tetsuya, or Tetsu, was actually just a little older than Kyouya- about six months, actually- but the kid was an administrative and/or managerial genius and cool as a cucumber to boot.  Hikaru had installed him as SIC about three months after the Committee had formed, when he’d observed Tetsu knocking around some bullies in one of the holes that they hadn’t fixed in the patrol routes, and he’d been more delighted than he probably should have been when the brat had pulled out notebooks full of observations and ideas to improve operations.

Seriously, Kusakabe Tetsuya was the find of the century and Hikaru had had to get creative with Kyouya so the younger boy could look past his jealousy and see that, as the young Cloud’s inherent territorial nature had reared its ugly head and caused loads of headaches for Hikaru during Tetsu’s initial inclusion.  Kyouya didn’t mind sharing Hikaru with people from a business standpoint, but Tetsu’s position required close communication and so it had been difficult for Kyouya to adjust.  Six months after the founding of the Committee, Hikaru had handed the position of ‘Leader’ over to Kyouya, and made Tetsu Kyouya’s SIC instead of Hikaru’s, and that seemed to make things better.  Kyouya still listened to Hikaru, of course, but Kyouya was the public face of the Committee and most of the populace of Namimori really had no idea that the ‘polite Nakamura boy’ was actually the catalyst behind the entire thing.

Oh, that was another thing that had changed over the past year or so.

Once Nami-chuu had been cleaned up and order restored, even with all the school operations coming through them first- and Hikaru did mean all of the operations- not to mention the patrols that they had established for all the free periods of Nami-chuu and the public elementary school’s free periods, the Committee still had too many members to keep busy and more came to join every day.  (Hikaru knew sure as the sun rose in the East that if he started turning people away his Papá would murder him, only child or not.  Hikaru was kind of terrified that in a few years he was going to have actual employees instead of just student not-quite-volunteers.) 

So, they- Hikaru, Kyouya, and Tetsu- had decided to expand operations to Namimori itself.  They didn’t care for the nitty gritty details, they weren’t the police, but if you were caught disturbing the peace you would be dealt with accordingly.  They started with areas that children frequented and spiraled out from there to areas where women were likely to be alone, and eventually their Committee was pretty much handling all of the mild to moderate civil disturbances and below for their town.  Of course, this meant training their members, and enforcing dress codes, not to mention punishing those who thought that they could use the Committee as an excuse to be a thug.

Once again, Kusakabe Tetsuya was an administrative and/or managerial genius.

“Come in, Tetsu-kun.” Hikaru called as he and Kyouya separated, while they were much more relaxed around Tetsu than anyone else, Hikaru knew that Kyouya’s pride was a delicate thing and he didn’t want to cause any injury to it when Kyouya was already so unbalanced by Hikaru leaving.

Tetsu entered, his rather ostentatious hair looking rather comical with his rounded features, but Hikaru had learned that the boy’s mother had a Spaniard father, and this had caused him to be the focus of some rather startling cruelty, both verbal and physical, by some of the other children because there seemed to be no middle ground between people who hated those of mixed European heritage and those who didn’t particularly care.  The fact that Tetsu had stubbornly chosen to wear his hair in that manner despite the name calling and the punches he endured spoke volumes towards the boy’s character, and Hikaru had always silently resolved to remember that- though it didn’t mean that his lips didn’t twitch a little at the initial sight of the too-mature ‘do on the eight-year-old’s head.

“Kyou-san, Hikaru-sempai, I have today’s reports, but nothing of import really happened, I’m happy to say.”

Kyouya nodded sharply, and Hikaru resisted the urge to bang his head against a wall at the boy’s incessant need to be called ‘Kyou-san’, but consoled himself that it was at least an upgrade from, ‘Hibari-san’.  “That’s great, Tetsu-kun!  Have a seat!  I was just finishing up here, my flight leaves in a few hours.”

And just like that, the mood turned colder than winter in Antarctica.

“You’re still going then?” Tetsu wasn’t quite old enough to completely mask the betrayal in his tone or the hurt in his hazel eyes, and Kyouya, for once, abandoned appearances and threw himself down on Hikaru’s bed.

Hikaru wearily gestured for Tetsu to sit, thankful that the boy was much easier to deal with than Kyouya, even when he was upset, because Hikaru was upset and he knew it was clouding his judgment.  He took a deep breath as he settled himself on his meditation mat, tossing his glasses on his desk, and closed his eyes, sinking his awareness into himself in an attempt to center his energies so he wouldn’t screw this up because he knew if he said something wrong right now it would have far reaching consequences.

On the one hand, he wanted to see the castle that his Mum and his Dad had called home, (He’d decided that since he had four parents- even if Sirius Black was still in limbo- and three of them were male, that James Potter would be Dad, and his Papá agreed that they’d decide on Black’s position later).  Hogwarts Castle was a famous structure even here in the East, as Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin had traveled to the East long before the school’s founding, so Hikaru wanted to see if he could find Eastern influences lingering there, even though the Eastern and Western supernatural cultures had split quite cleanly shortly before the school’s first official classes were held, and hadn’t truly been all that close prior to it.

On the other hand, even if he filtered through all the propaganda from his reiki textbooks, (there really wasn’t a whole lot, actually, but his father made him do reports on that sort of thing now and again), the Western magicals really didn’t seem like people that he wanted to associate with, despite his best efforts to remain neutral.  In the back of his mind he always remembered that their highest ranking governmental official, (as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot was the counterbalance to the Minister for Magic, which was a relatively young position not steeped in Old Magic), left him on a nonmagical doorstep in November, less than six hours after his parents’ murders.

Hikaru calmed his breathing and smoothed his reiki flow before he allowed himself to continue, pushing aside the quiet sounds of Tetsu’s scribbling and Kyouya’s soft breathing with practiced ease.

Ok, so, he obviously still had issues with their massive failures regarding his placement with the Dursley family, he could acknowledge that and own it.

What else was connected to that issue that he was ignoring?  He and his Papá hadn’t actually talked about these issues much, and Hikaru had been so busy that they tended to get pushed into the deeper recesses of his mind, but he couldn’t afford to turn a blind eye to this festering wound any longer, and he refused to let this shit own him.

There had been several people that Hikaru remembered coming up to him to shake his hand that had been dressed in funny clothes that he thought were from local theatre troupes or the like, that his Aunt had always gone chalk-white over and been extra been vindictive towards him for days afterwards, so either his location was public knowledge, those people had run into him purely by coincidence and were able to touch him because they did not trigger the enchantment, or they had been sent to check up on him and were either incompetent or their purpose was to increase his mistreatment.

Hikaru nearly lost control, and absently felt the gazes of the other two come to land on him as he wrestled himself back into a semblance of calm.  Hikaru breathed through the churning mess of emotion and turmoil, heedless of the tears as they carved silent paths down his tanned cheeks, as he delved deeper into his mainspring, reaching for the source of the turmoil, so that he could hold in his hands; ripping out the source of the infection that dared to take root inside of his mind and promptly began trembling as the repressed memories of a lonely little boy cursed with sun bright Flames and a knack for knowing what other people were feeling assaulted him-

(The knowledge that she hated herself just as much as she hated you but loved your mother the most was too much for your young mind to process. That she’d loved that strange boy with the weird powers, that she’d only been bossy to get his attention like a good girl, and then he almost killed her and he hadn’t liked her back because she wasn’t special like you- like your mother- and she’d take that from you if it was-)

Hikaru found it, the infection.  Apparently he had been unconsciously using his Flames during some of the times his Aunt had grabbed him when he was little, and he blamed the Western magicals for that, and he probably always would.

That was alright, feeling weren’t always fair, but now he knew so he could own them.

Hikaru grinned, fierce and vicious and triumphant as he reached his metaphorical hands forward and dragged that infection into his Sun, allowing his bright, bright Flames to burn away that which had tried to control him.  He was still grinning when he opened his red-rimmed eyes to meet the concerned, (Tetsu) and angry, (Kyouya), gazes of his friends and the ten-year-old’s grin simply widened and sharpened and he uttered two words, “I won.”

Somehow, Hikaru’s breakthrough ended with Tetsu being given his own sigil from Kyouya, though as the eldest, Hikaru allowed Kyouya to use a bit of his blood and his calligraphy pen, and Tetsu chose to have his sigil engraved down the underside of his right arm, as a symbolic gesture of being Kyouya’s right-hand-man, Hikaru guessed.

By the time Hikaru had said his ‘see you laters’ to Asuka-obaa-san and Hinata-san, and was headed to the airport, Kyouya and Tetsu were out patrolling again, they had originally intended to see him off at the airport, but Hikaru had insisted that it would make him feel better to know that they were patrolling in his stead, as he felt bad as he was leaving on one of his normal patrol nights anyways.

Truly, Hikaru had great instincts, because that evening Hibari Kyouya and Kusakabe Tetsuya played a crucial role in helping ensure the survival of one Sawada Tsunayoshi.

Sawada Nana had left her son with a babysitter so she could pick up groceries to prepare a feast due to the fact that her husband was coming home the following afternoon, and he would be staying for an entire month!

Unfortunately, the air-headed but well-meaning woman hadn’t sensed the ill intent permeating from the babysitter, but Tsunayoshi had and while the five-year-old wasn’t the smartest boy in the world by a wide margin, he knew that the people in the black gakuran with the red armbands would help him, because his bullies always ran away when they showed up, and their members always made sure that he got taken to the nurse’s office and then got back to his classes safely whenever something bad happened.

“Help!” he called as he felt the woman and the other man who had been with her closing in on him as he made it to an alleyway and saw the flash of an armband, “Help me!”

Kyouya and Tetsu took all of two seconds to assess the situation before springing into action, taking down the two would-be assassins, cordoning off the alleyway, informing the police, and making sure that little Tsunayoshi was taken care of until he was able to be returned to his mother.

It also opened up a sector to the Committee: Verified Childcare Providers went live a week later, and within the next year most parents in Namimori wouldn’t bother to use someone over the age of thirteen if they were not Committee approved.

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When Reborn finally got the chance to watch the footage, he was torn between pride in son’s Famiglia, (and that was what the Committee was in Reborn’s mind), and anger at Iemitsu’s idiocy in leaving such a gaping hole in his security measures, when the whole reason the blonde idiot preached about ‘staying away and not calling to keep them safe’.  (Even though Reborn managed just fine, though not as often as he’d like.  Dilettante.)

Hikaru’s people didn’t always have time to cover for that idiota, after all.  “Ciaossu, Timoteo, you need to have a word with your Young Lion….”

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Chapter Text

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Hikaru, er, Harry had been back in the Dursley house for all of a day and he already hated being here.

He allowed himself to stretch out on the overly manicured lawn- which irritated the hell out of him, and damn he wanted to indulge in some Ikebana right about now- and allowed his thoughts to wander in an attempt to stop desperately missing the entire life he’d just left behind as he couldn’t call Japan or use the enchanted journals that Papá had gotten for him and Kyouya to use until after the magicals had contacted him.

Originally he had planned to have a stopover in Italy to be able to spend time with his Papá, but something was going on with one of the Vongola’s major allied Famiglia, and both Dr. Shamal and Papá were tied up with it, so Harry was stuck here with the Dursley family.

They hadn’t really bothered him, as they had been under the influence of Dr. Shamal’s illusions as well, so his room was still as he had left it, just without dust thanks to some subtle suggestion placement.  Mist Flames were tricky business, especially a rare user like Shamal who walked that tightrope intersection of Hard-Inverted-Soft-Classic.  Mist users usually were able to use their Construction Aspect to construct in the mental plane or the physical one, and Hard Mist Flame users were truly rare as they usually ended up killing themselves by accident before they grew old enough to be discovered. 

Typically, Classic Soft Mist Flame users could use their Flame to cloak themselves or plant subtle suggestions, while the Inverted Soft Mist Flame users could trap people in hellacious illusions of their own design or possess another person by sectioning off part of their Flame.

A Classic Hard Mist Flame User could actually bend reality and move within a solid surface or twist and affect the way a person perceived the world without ever actually affecting it.  An Inverted Hard Mist User could make their monster come to ‘life’ and only someone with a great deal of Tranquil Perception would be unaffected, and even then that person would have to have a much Purer Flame than the Mist casting the illusion.  There was also a Mafia legend of an Inverted Hard Mist User who Constructed a golem in his own image to fight in a territorial dispute, and the golem learned to absorb Flames from the enemies it defeated and grew stronger with every battle it fought eventually overcoming the restrictions placed upon it and destroying the Famiglia of the Mist that made it, the legend says that the golem guard the lowest levels of the Vindicare even now because even the Vindice could not kill it.

So, yeah, Mist users, kind of a big deal.

Harry’s eye’s fluttered open as he felt something with reiki flutter at the edge of his senses, but it was just a reiki active animal.

That was another thing he wasn’t looking forward to learning about in the West:  Animate to Inanimate Transfigurations.

The school of thought was that magic changed the fundamental makeup of the ‘object’ and therefore the animal sustained no damage, and that was a true statement- for a perfect transfiguration.  For partial or incorrect transfigurations the animal was stuck in between, their mind locked in the void as their body was deconstructed and reconstructed clumsily.  Their minds didn’t feel the pain, but their instincts did- it was like constantly being watched or Chinese Water Torture, not really painful but torturous in its own right, and Harry didn’t really want to perform such an act.

What was the point, anyways?  He could see if they were studying for the Animagus transformation, but that just required a great deal of meditation, as it wasn’t truly a transfiguration and you were doing it to a sentient being who could speak up about such things, and beetles and bugs weren’t so bad even though they still held traces of reiki, but Hogwarts supposedly taught them how to transfigure avians into things like water goblets.  Why?  Why couldn’t they just transfigure mud into water goblets or water even?  Or how about-

He was jolted out of his thoughts by what could only be called a ‘poke’ by a fast approaching thread of reiki that seemed to be honing in on him specifically.  He rolled and smoothly rose to his feet, falling into a light ready position even though he was reasonably certain that this was his Hogwarts letter.  Sure enough a tiny spot appeared in the sky and it soon turned out to be an Owl, a rather cute Barn Owl, with a letter tied to its leg.

Harry held out an arm and smiled at the weary looking bird, “Here you go, little one, let’s get you something to eat and drink, hm?  It looks like you’ve had a long flight.”

The owl hooted gratefully.

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Harry made his way through the portal to the magical shopping district, thankful that his glasses had Mist Flames on them as everyone seemed to have an air of expectation around them and his instinct- which had been honed by his Papá, his various teachers, and being the shadow-leader of an organization of dubious legality- said that this air of expectation had something to do with him.  So he made sure to make himself as uninteresting as possible through his body language as he slipped through the crowds, thankful for all the practice that living in Japan had given him as he eyed his surroundings sharply just in case he needed to make alternate traveling arrangements.

(He was desperately trying to keep his reiki deeply internalized as he had no idea that this place was so out of balance the last time he had been here.)

When they had gone to the Bank a few years back, (and he’d fallen asleep), his Papá had set a whole bunch of things in motion before the Goblins had removed that corrupted Flame Shard from his scar, but the most important was that his Trust Vault had been changed.  Reborn, true to form, hadn’t recalled or destroyed the keys that were in circulation, but he had diverted the funds as the designated Financial Advisor of the previous Lord Potter via written letter, (James had left a letter with Grapplehook just in case Renato ever came into having custody of Harry and needed access to the Potter estate). 

(They had found that magical Europe still mostly operated on rather monarchical terms.  Old Bloods or those who had Family Magic, or were Oath Sworn in some manner had Magical Guardians as they were subject to the Avalonian Tenets, but any ‘muggleborns’ or incoming half-bloods were subject to the laws that had been passed after the implementation of the Statute of Secrecy, which was a distinct disadvantage for them. 

Harry, as the confirmed Heir Potter, had no Magical Guardian as the Tenets stated, though he was allowed an Advisor, Treasurer, Legal Counsel, Medical Specialist, and up to three Outside Assembly, and he could keep them up until the age of twenty-five, if he didn’t formally induct them into their positions in his capacity as Lord Potter first.  The tricky thing was that his Advisor was actually whomever ceremonially debuted him after the age of eleven- which was when Renato’s tenure as Financial Advisor ran out- usually by bringing him to the Bank for the first time since the end of his first decade unless he had made other arrangements, which he was currently on his way to do.)

Harry walked up the steps and grinned a little at the poem, feeling the reiki seep into him as he did so before finding himself quickly escorted to Grapplehook’s office, a little unbalanced even after a few day of readjusting to being back in England after two years of following Japanese etiquette.

Harry saw his Papá waiting for him in the office and he positively lit up, “Papá!” he squeaked happily, rushing forwards and scooping his pint-sized father up in a hug and enjoying the man’s half-hearted attempts to escape as Leon scampered over to nestle himself in Harry’s hair.  “Hey Leon.” He called to the tiny chameleon as an afterthought as he released Reborn, who promptly tried to kick him in the face.

“Glad to see that you missed me too, brat.” Dr. Shamal’s very amused voice came from behind him.

Harry whirled around and hugged a mildly startled Shamal but released him before the man could unleash a mosquito against him, “Hey Dr. Shamal!”

Forty-five minutes later saw him walking out with his Papá listed as his Advisor-Treasurer and Dr. Shamal listed as his Medical Specialist.  The beautiful thing about being preemptive in this was that whomever Harry’s Advisor was happened to be an internal family matter, meaning that no one could pressure him into telling him who it was, under penalty of the Avalonian Tenets, which far exceeded any modern authority.  Actually if you traced them back far enough, most magical authorities in West-Central Europe were based on the Avalonian Tenets and were accordingly bound by them.

Or at least, that’s part of one of my nastier contingency plans, Reborn thought, deeply amused as he watched his son and Shamal squabble about the actual health benefits that could possibly be afforded from the eye of a petrified toad, I want Adriano to learn and grow this year, but I really don’t see him staying long in this world.  By and large it seems content to stagnate and splinter, and my boy would never be satisfied to fit into the tiny little box that they want him in. 

There is a small chance that he might fall for their pretty words at first, but I don’t think that he will; he’s too much like me.  I expect his secondary Cloud Flames, and Lily’s sacrificial Lightning Flames come bursting forth any day now, and it wouldn’t surprise me at all if he ended up being able to use Sun, Cloud, and Lightning to form a bastardized version of Storm on occasion.  No, I don’t think Adriano will be here long, but I will make sure that they never forget what they lost.

The rest of the day was a blur of laughter and light hearted banter and mock arguments as Harry enjoyed himself and allowed the stress of being somewhere he didn’t want to be melt away for a little while.

Fortunately, as a student of the East and a son of the eternally paranoid Renato Sinclair, they hadn’t gotten his wand from Ollivander’s Wand Shop, but rather, they had taken a day trip to Denmark to visit a conduit maker there to have Harry’s wand made.  The conduit crafter- Mr. Knudsen- had Harry choose the materials that he resonated with and then shooed them out so that he could work.  They returned at the end of the day, and Harry made sure to tip the man generously because despite not being his specialty, the Olive Wood wand, with a Phoenix Feather core was a work of art. 

Its length was fourteen inches even; or rather, thirteen and three-thirds, to give him three dimensions of three- a teen, a full, and a partial.  The craftsman had inlaid the characters or words that Harry had wanted from all seven languages into the wood and they spiraled lazily from the tip to the handle, which had been set into a hilt not unlike a sword, as Harry had been taking Aikido or something reminiscent of it for nearly three years now, so the handle was a comforting weight in his hand and as the conduit bonded to him brilliant golden light- almost the same color of his Flames but not quite- nearly blinded them for a moment as a joyful song echoed through the shop before the light dimmed and the song faded back down to a pleasant background hum.

“The Olive Tree,” Mr. Knudsen had explained enthusiastically as they went about selecting a sheath for his weapon- or, rather, a holster for his wand, “Is a hardy tree native to the Mediterranean, and had roots in lore far back into the times of Ancient Greece.  They used to bathe the bodies of the Olympic Champions in olive oil, you know.  Anyways, Homer once called it ‘the tree of liquid gold’ and it can grow in even the harshest conditions, it can even survive being uprooted and moved even if the tree is very old.  It is both a humble man’s deliverance and a rich man’s vanity, it says a lot of good things about you, young man, for this wood to have chosen you, especially with a Phoenix Feather core which is an unusual combination, and I think you’ll do just fine.”

The rest of the shopping trip was even more fun after that, because Harry had been quietly terrified of binding himself to a conduit.

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I’m going to fly back to Japan long enough to beat some proper manners into Kyouya, that brat.  Harry thought, half-exasperated, half amused.  Fortunately for his sanity, Tetsu was much better at keeping Harry updated on the goings-on in Namimori, otherwise Harry would be all but clueless. 

It also made his heart ache a little less to see what he thought of as his actual name on the paper of the enchanted journal.

Harry was honest enough with himself to admit that he hated it here in England, and he hated it more with each passing day, so much so that he had stopped trying to tell himself any differently when he meditated.  Every morning felt like a noose was cinching just that much tighter around his neck and inside him his reiki and his Flames churned defiantly against the idea of being chained. 

Like they were banging against a reinforced concrete wall with cotton balls.

It was maddening and irritating and it made Harry angry, tetchy, cranky, and just about every other unhappy adjective in all seven languages that he was reasonably fluent in, (though his Russian was still shaky and he despised trying to read anything written in traditional Mandarin).

Not to mention, Hagrid, lovable but biased Hagrid had come knocking down the front door- literally- to take him shopping about a week after he’d actually gone, and it had been a fiasco.  Instinct had told Harry to just go with it, but the experience at the Leaky Caldron, not to mention Hagrid having one of the original Trust Fund keys, (and finding out that somehow his parents, who had been murdered, had asked the Headmaster to hold onto to them for them, instead of the goblins who were a neutral party), then the shopping experience itself had been migraine-inducing with all the pro-Gryffindor, pro-Dumbledore propaganda the cheerful and friendly but dim man had been spouting. 

Harry managed to convince the man to go get a ‘pick me up’ at the pub after the cart ride at the Bank, (for which he tipped Griphook several shiny coins), and went and grabbed an expanded book bag, even though he already had one back at Number Four, and headed for the bookstore, where Hagrid eventually found him, and then Harry had managed to distract and redirect all inquiries about his supplies or his lack thereof.

Really, the only good part about the whole чертов trip was the Kyouya-owl.

Seriously, when he looked at into those fierce, amber eyes the first thing out of his mouth had been, “Kyou?”

Harry glanced across the room to where the majestic snowy white owl was sitting on her perch, preening her feather like the queen she was, and grinned.  Kyouya had been insufferably smug that the beautiful avian had refused to answer to any other name and had demanded that Harry send pictures before he left ‘for that herbivore school’.  Other than being furious about the situation in general, but agreeing with Harry’s decisions in light of Hagrid being personally sent by the Headmaster, Reborn had also found things amusing.

Harry sighed as he shut the journal and gave up on accomplishing anything productive for the moment.  He knew he was being rather melodramatic, and there were tons of people who had things way, way worse than him but he really just wanted to go home.  It was nice being able to use James’ name again, but he honestly just want to go back to being Hikaru or go to Italy and be Adriano, he didn’t want to be Harry.

Papá said to tough it out for one term at least if not the full year, then we can say that we tried.  It should give Papá enough time to get Sirius out and question him or dispose of him.  Harry hadn’t seen a dead body yet, but he’d dealt out plenty of well-justified violence over the past couple of years, and if Reborn found out that Sirius Black had betrayed his Mum and Dad- well, Harry wouldn’t lose any sleep over the man’s demise in that case.

Harry closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh as he worked on circulating his reiki throughout his body, It doesn’t really make the fact that I don’t want to be here at all any easier though.

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Kings Cross Station was incredibly busy the morning of September 1^st, but to Harry Potter, who had gotten stuck with the more populated absolutely unavoidable  patrol routes during festival times due to Kyouya’s fierce hatred of crowds, it wasn’t entirely overwhelming. As he walked, however, he could appreciate how it would have overwhelmed him a few short years ago and kept a casual eye out for anyone who looked too terribly out of place, though he was incredibly early.

Kyou-chan was on his shoulder, as he refused to put her in a cage on principle, and he had a sneaking suspicion that she would react remarkably similar to the real Kyouya and attempt to ‘bite him to death’ if he ever considered such a foolish course of action.

“-wish we could see you all the way off, Mia, but we can’t pass that Barrier thing.” A male voice was saying nearby as Harry made his way closer to the hidden platform.

“It’s alright, Daddy.  I-I’ll be fine.” A girl’s voice responded. 

Young and scared, Harry noted absently, likely never been away from home for a long period of time before, trying to be brave, though.  Harry had just finished his internal observations when he rounded the corner and saw a rather attractive middle-aged couple and a young girl who could only best be described as an ‘ugly duckling’.  From his angle Harry could see that her front teeth were slightly over large, her hair was obviously not well-kept, (she probably doesn’t take a great deal of pride in her appearance as she’s told herself that she’s not worth the effort), and her clothes were exaggeratedly serviceable.

However, something about her pinged his intuition, and she couldn’t possibly be worse than Kyouya, right?

“Excuse me,” he interjected smoothly, noting the almost hostile and haughty aura the girl drew up when she noted his age, he’d have to work on that then, “But I couldn’t help but over hear and I was curious as to why you couldn’t breech the Barrier?” he looked between the three with his best innocent expression plastered across his face.

The woman smiled kindly at him, but there was anger in her eyes and the man didn’t even bother to try and hide his discontent with the situation, “I’m sorry, but are you-?” here she trailed off leadingly.

Harry smiled brightly, “Hogwarts here.” He said agreeably.

“Ah, well, we’re ah, muggles, you see and-“

Harry’s smile grew tight and he clamped down tightly on his anger, but he wasn’t sure he entirely hid his expression, so he hurried to explain before any misunderstandings could form, “Ah, please excuse me, I really despise that word it makes me angry, you see, when people try to differentiate between humans as if the ones with magic are human and the ones without are monkeys, forgive my lapse in my control.”  Harry bowed lightly, careful to not to disturb Kyou-chan, who he was entirely amused to note bobbed her head in a semblance of a bow as well.  Kyouya in owl form indeed.  “Now, if I might offer a suggestion?”

The woman looked taken aback by the rapid change the conversation had taken and the man was calculating, causing Harry make a mental note to have Papá run a background check on this guy, he might have military training, “What might that be dear?”

Harry smiled his best I’m-totally-not-doing-anything-wrong smile and replied, “The Barrier’s primary function is to keep out people of nonmagical origin.  Two things are required to pass the Barrier: magic and the knowledge that it is there, however the biggest obstacle that you are faced with is not the lack of inherent magic but rather that your belief that the platform exists on the other side.  Since this young lady,” here he gestured to the girl who was steadily reddening, “is of some relation to you, your daughter or niece, I am guessing, you should be able to ‘piggyback’ off of her magic and walk through the Barrier, she will simply need to escort you back through, the issue is that while she can provide the magic your belief must be strong enough to make up for the face that the magic is not inherently yours, but as long as you can believe that the space on the other side exists to the point that it lets you pass, you should be able to do so.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” the girl burst out angrily before lowering her voice to an angry hiss, “All the books say that if you don’t have magic you cannot pass through.  All of them.  Why are you being a-“

“Hermione.” The man cut in sharply, his eyes having not left Harry since the boy had started speaking.  “Let’s try this his way, alright?”

The girl rounded on the man, angry tears pricking at her eyes, “But Daddy-“

“No, Princess.” The man said firmly, grasping her trunk with one hand and taking the girl’s hand in his other, making sure to keep Harry’s in his line of sight at all times.  “What do we have to lose, really?  We are only able to go to that Alley of yours once a year, Nessa, take Mia’s other hand, lad you mind going first?  It might be easier to visualize if we see you disappear and not run into the wall.”

Harry smiled blandly, but he was a little offended by the blatant maneuvering, though he supposed that not everyone in the world grew up with the incredibly paranoid seven-plans-for-emergency-escape-routes-for-any-occasion Renato Sinclair for a parent, so he let it slide.  Harry lined himself up with the Barrier, made sure Kyou-chan was ready and walked at a brisk pace towards the wall, sliding through the faux-illusion easily, and settled to the side to wait to the young girl and her parents.

Just a few moments later, he was proven correct as the trio came stumbling through the Barrier, and Kyou-chan gave a haughty screech of victory. 

(Yeah, seriously Kyouya in owl form)

“It worked.” The little girl breathed out incredulously, “It worked.”

Harry gently guided the trio to the side and into a little alcove so they would get run into by anyone and took his leave, My work here is done. He thought, rather smug in the knowledge that he had been right about something that older, so-called wiser magicals had been wrong about for decades.

Harry found a nice, nondescript compartment, stowed his luggage, and got out his journal, a blanket, and a pillow, so he could write to Kyouya and Tetsu and nap.  Harry stretched out on the coach seat, he figured that with what he had seen so far of magical culture the train probably had self-expanding charms or something of that nature.  He threw out a reiki strip, which was a strip of rice paper that held tiny writing that listed out characteristics that he did not want from a compartment mate and Activated it with his Flames, which pretty much would keep out just about everybody, unless there was an actual need for room or something.  (It was a Shine Master talent, but Kyouya had gotten one of his cousins to teach it to Harry so that Harry could put them around Kyouya’s nap couch in the DC office, the little brat.)  Kyou-chan had already flown ahead; apparently she liked the idea of crowding as much as Kyouya did.

Yeah, definitely Kyouya in bird form.

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The train starting moving at some point, and while Harry had gotten pretty good at writing while on the move, (a necessary skill for any person who had to spend lots of time on public transit running errands for slave driving old ladies), he really didn’t feel like it, so he tucked his journal away in his travel pack, slipped his glasses into the front of his shirt, arranged his blanket a little better, and tossed his arm over his eyes as he settled in for a nap.

Naps were a bonding thing for him and Kyouya, Tetsu didn’t really take naps, but the other boy would be nearby scribbling something or another down in one of his thousand or so notebooks, while Hikaru would find a bench and Kyouya would nap high up in a tree or on a ledge.

Harry smiled through the dull throb in his chest and the slow burn in his eyes, I thought of myself as Hikaru again.  Can’t even take a nap without those damn brats.  Eventually he managed to push back the homesickness and the ache and fall into a light doze, lulled by the gentle rhythm of the train.

Eventually he was pulled back to full alertness by the compartment door opening, so he moved his arm enough to peek and see who it was and felt that he was not nearly as surprised as he should have been to see that it was the girl from earlier and a chubby brown-haired boy.  She looked like she’d been crying, as her eyes were all puffy and watery and Harry would recognize that resigned but furious look the boy was sporting anywhere.

“Come in,” he said with one of the smiles he usually reserved for kids they rescued from idiots who had more muscle than sense, “I see you’ve got your luggage, let’s get you settled then.”  Harry was efficient, smoothly ignoring their protests as he got them seated and stowed their luggage in the rack, grabbing some toiletries from his travel pack for them to tidy up, plied them with juice and some snacks, and only when they were fully calm and settled did he stop fussing long enough to let them speak.

“You’re the boy from earlier!” The girl burst out loudly, before immediately cringing then straightening and looking at him challengingly, as if she was daring him to comment.

If she had a Flame, I’d say she was a Lightning of some sort, maybe an Inverted Hard?  Damn, she is going to be as bad as Kyouya.  “Yup, that’s me, did everything go alright?”

She looked taken aback for a moment, but she recovered quickly, “Yes, Daddy and Mummy were terribly pleased to be able to see the train and everything since they are only allowed the one trip to Diagon a year until my Majority, so they were really chuffed to be able to see more of what I’ll be learning!  I’ve learned all of our course books by heart, of course, I just hope that’ll be enough.  Oh, how terribly rude of me, I’m Hermione Granger, who are you?”  She finished all in the same breath as she stuck her hand out expectantly.

Harry blinked slowly and felt the familiar feeling of not knowing whether to laugh or bang his head against a wall.  “Ok, Ms. Granger, it-“

“Hermione.”

Breathe, Harry.  At least there are no animal metaphors to wade through.  “Do you prefer directness, Miss Granger?”

The girl’s honey-gold eyes narrowed in hurt and anger and she rose to her feet and Harry just knew that this was going to go badly and quite frankly he knew this girl had potential, but it was either give her a reality check now or let her be dragged down by this world and crushed for being different.  So he rose as well and lightly placed his hands on her shoulder- a gentle, but restrictive hold- as he unleased the full force of his unobscured gaze onto her, “I am not being rude.  I am not being unkind.  I am not being cruel.  The fact is, Miss Granger, you are not in the Queen’s England anymore.  The split in government between the magicals and nonmagicals occurred before the founding of the current monarchy, meaning that the laws of the government that you are currently under the jurisdiction of are not the ones that you are used to and there is currently nothing you can do about it by law.

By the Avalonian Tenets, our founding laws, the action that just occurred was highly inappropriate because I had not yet given you my name and I am of a technically higher class than you.  It is not particularly fair, not particularly right, and not particularly proper, but the fact of the matter is that if you do that to the wrong person they could have you killed and there is nothing your parents or nonmagical England could do to help you.”

Harry drew the shivering girl closer to him and allowed her to wrap her arms around him and cry into his shoulder, “I’m not angry, truly, but the fact remains that there are secret traps and pitfalls in this new world that you’ve stepped into, Little Princess.  I am an Heir of a Most Noble and Most Ancient House, there are few of us left, but we have fairly unilateral authority and there are those who would use that authority without thought, so please think before you speak, alright?”

The girl nodded into his cloth-covered shoulder, but didn’t make an attempt to remove herself, and Harry- feeling a little bad about how strong he’d had to come on to prove his point- maneuvered them so they were sitting down, with her in his lap, and tugged his blanket around her shoulders and let her cry.  “Would you like to know what it was that you did wrong?” He gently queried after a few minutes of quiet sobs.

She nodded vigorously.

Harry sighed and rubbed soothing circles on the girl’s back, pointedly not looking at the other occupant of the compartment at this point, “As I said, I am an Heir to a Most Noble and Most Ancient House, and as such I am a prize.” He spat the word out and he felt her stiffen, “Ah, I see you’re beginning to see the point.  Back in the ancient times, families of lesser repute would send their pretty daughter to try to win the hearts of the young male Heirs- because, obviously we can’t have the daughters inheriting, heaven forbid-“ that made her release a watery giggle.  Progress.  Was it sad that Harry was missing the animal metaphors? 

“Back in those days a sign of favor was using her first name instead of the family one, and with that came responsibilities.  Like shelter and food and the like, the Rules of Favor changed throughout the centuries, but they still exist and differ from family to family, and as we’re all eleven which is the first year of our second decade this is a really important time for us magical Heirs, so we have to be really careful.  It should all settle down in a month or so, but until then try and stick to your first name with all the other boys, alright?” Harry finished, trying to inject some teasing into his tone and he was rewarded with an actual giggle as she scooted off his lap far enough to dig out his travel supplies again.

“Now that that unpleasantness is out of the way,” Harry announced after Miss Granger had finished cleaning up, “I am Potter, Harry Potter, it’s nice to meet you all.”

The two gaped at him.

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

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By the time the train had pulled into Hogsmeade Station, Harry had managed to convince Longbottom and Miss Granger that he wasn’t a super-powered force of nature, but that his Mum and Dad were just really good and Family Magic was awesome.

The two boys had also explained why those from Old Lines always introduced themselves with their family name first, as it brought the Family Magic to bear, and therefore the protection offered by the ancient magic.  If two magicals introduced themselves in the modern manner of first-name then family-name then an Heir would have no protection against an alliance sealing to their Family as the Family Magic wouldn’t be able to react. 

Family Magic originated in Avalon, in the original Council of Friends, which had been fourteen families strong- and then there had been a further twenty eight ‘Ancient’ and another twenty-eight ‘Noble’ Houses that also bore Family Magic.  These lines also had other lines that were Oath Sworn, Conquered, or all manner of other things, so after The Fall and the subsequent Shattering, a lot of the lines went dormant and then years later ‘muggleborns’ began to crop up.  It takes nearly three generations for the Family Magic to return to a single ‘muggleborn’, and only then can they gain access to the Gringott’s accounts for that family, but if a Most Ancient and Most Noble House- like Harry’s House- were to added their Family Magic, it would only take about a decade, because the Council of Friends’ Family Magic had always been the most potent, no matter how far the lines dwindled.

After explaining all that, Harry also had a healthy fear of Miss Granger’s resolve in the pursuit of knowledge and he and Longbottom just sort of commiserated together while she ranted.

Eventually they disembarked and Miss Granger found something new to talk about, much to the relief of the two boys.  The ride across the lake was rather fantastic, and the return of Longbottom’s pet was met with smiles from Miss Granger and Harry.

The stern witch who met them at the entryway seemed like one of those teachers who were overworked and underpaid, but tried to be fair.  Then there were the ghosts, which gave Harry a screaming migraine because spirits were not allowed to linger in the East, as they disrupted the balance of reiki terribly.

Then they were walking into the Great Hall, and Harry could admit to being fascinated with, and he couldn’t even be irritated when Miss Granger started babbling about having read about how Rowena Ravenclaw herself made the enchantment, because all he could think of was, Maybe I could get Kyouya to sit still long enough to do the damn budget reports if I put this in the Committee office.

The ratty little hat sang a ridiculous but amusing song that had some hidden wisdom that was more than likely lost on most of the students, as everyone looked terribly hungry.  The students’ names were called and the tables clapped but Harry really just wanted to go curl up somewhere, preferably with Kyou-chan.  Harry himself was nearly physically ill from all the imbalances reiki in the air, the magic being so saccharine it was nearly toxic to him.  It was like it was like being locked in a room and having a mouthful of cavities but nothing to eat but gummy bears and nothing to drink but carbonated soda.

Miss Granger’s name was called.

The hat flopped down over her eyes as she jammed it on her head eagerly.  The headwear shifted around a bit and moved its ‘lips’ a few times before apparently making up its mind and yelling-

“RAVENCLAW!”

The next name that Harry paid attention to was Longbottom, he clapped the boy on the shoulder in a friendly way as the boy made his way up to the stool, and it took a few moments but eventually the hat burst out with a rather bewildered-

“RAVENCLAW!”

And Longbottom went to join Miss Granger, giving Harry a firm nod of acknowledgement as he did so, much to Harry’s bemusement.

When they got to Harry’s name, the boy scowled at the deluge of whispers that immediately swept through the room, as well as all the students who were suddenly desperate to get a good look at him, or even the way the Staff members were suddenly shifting forward. 

Bastards.  Harry thought uncharitably as he reached the stool and shoved the hat on his head.

There was the sound of chuckling near his ear and he scowled harder.  I’m not even going to ask you to let me in, I know better.  I know just where to put you, better be-

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-not that it will be the personal best fit for you, and Salazar and Helga are probably going to find a way to return from the other side to set me on fire for this, but those young ones need you, and you’re not going to be here that long anyway, are you little Adriano Potter?”

“RAVENCLAW!”

Harry would have been concerned, he mused as he handed the artifact back to the stern Professor and walk over to his wildly clapping tablemates, slipping in beside Longbottom and across from Miss Granger as the Sorting resumed, if he hadn’t known how tightly bound with secrecy enchantments the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts was tied with, that the Sorting Hat hadn’t spilled a single secret in over a millennia. 

Not to mention, all Eastern-taught students had no need for the Western practice of Occlumency because the practice of actively circulating reiki throughout the body regularly from a young age formed a protective, flexible ‘passive shell’ around them and made them sensitive to the reiki of others.  Meaning that if someone tried to direct a Legilimency probe towards an Eastern taught student, the ‘shell’ would intercept it and twist and warp and direct it away reflexively, without conscious thought from the recipient.  That was one of the reasons that it was doubly stressed that they keep up their exercises, as mental attacks were stressful to the inner balance.

Harry had an additional layer of protection in that he also possessed Flames, and as Mist Flames could potentially be used to influence a person’s mind or even possess them, Harry had been taught to randomly send burst of Sun Flames through his system to check for any foreign agents.  It was far more difficult for other Flame types, but as Suns were healers by nature, it was easier for them to detect when someone was attempting to alter their thoughts or rummage around in their heads, as long as they knew what to look for and how to combat it- and Reborn would never leave such a gaping hole in his son’s education.

Which was why when he looked up from his rather annoying superficial conversations from his new housemates, (‘your house is your family’ his ass; they were all angling for something- his fame, the Potter library, a measuring mark, information on that night- really they were so transparent it was pathetic.  There were only about five at the table who seemed interested in him, and sadly Miss Granger seemed to be giving into mob mentality.  Harry might need to cut her loose and see if she came around on her own terms.), to make a disinterred pass of the Staff Table, his mood did not improve when he actually felt the draw on his mainspring to reinforce his ‘passive shell’.

Harry resisted the urge to bang his head on the wooden table through sheer force of will.

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Fortunately for Harry, he did not have to resort calling people herbivores and declaring that he would bite them to death to get them to back off in Ravenclaw House.  Seeing as how the 1^st had been on a Sunday this year, Monday meant classes started, so for the Ravenclaws the celebrity aspect of having Harry in their House had blown over quickly, for which he was immensely grateful for, though he was disappointed to note that there really didn’t seem to be a support structure in the House at all. 

It was every man for himself, what kind of school did that?

Even if I’m only here for a year, Harry vowed as he followed the directions of a rather helpful painting on his way to his first ever class which just happened to be Charms with his Head of House, Professor Flitwick, I am going to have infrastructure in place before I leave.  I’ve already seen instances of outright abuse, and I have not spent the last two years cleaning up Namimori of herbivores to let such things pass unchecked now.

Harry’s phone wouldn’t work at Hogwarts, but his laptop would once he’d gotten the main intermediary relay planted on the Astronomy Tower during his first Astronomy Class.  The relay had been made by a company in Japan, through a mix of Reborn’s sources and Kyouya’s family’s contacts, and was actually a prototype.  It needed to be placed in a high, unobscured place, (unlike a place in Ravenclaw Tower to use as the main intermediary relay), to properly transmit to the tertiary relay, which would then reroute the signal through a series of computers to confuse anyone who might be able to track it, (it would convert into a digital signal in a town called Cardigan, and from there it would pass through several English computers, before heading over to Belgium, slipping into Germany, then the Netherlands, then back into Germany and crossing over to Austria and then down into the Czech Republic before disappearing into the Mafia side of technology).

If the relays worked- the one that was inside Harry’s four-poster bed and the one in the Astronomy Tower- then the Japanese parent company would have an entirely untapped market to explore when the European magicals finally woke up an realized that nonmagical technology was advancing so quickly, not to mention all the possibilities that successfully converting magically generated messages into digital data would open up, as the magical signature of the Europeans made it difficult for the Eastern based devices to work because to the Easterners the Westerners’ reiki was unbalanced, and therefore it destroyed the technology’s components, so being able to work around that issue would be invaluable. 

The wait would be about three minutes between messages, but it was better than having to use owls, despite Kyou-chan’s magnificence.

Harry caught sight of Longbottom hurrying in the opposite direction and called out to the other boy, “Hey, Longbottom, this way.”

As they made their way to class and took their seats just before the class commenced, Harry pondered the issue of Neville Longbottom.

When they met on the train, Harry had recognized a kindred spirit in the boy, and that sense of empathy had only grown over the past thirty-six hours.  While the promising yet rough Miss Granger would take a lot of work due to her abrasive personality and ghastly coping mechanisms, Neville was a reflection of what a well-cared for but just as emotionally and mentally damaged Harry could have been without the whole Boy-Who-Lived merda.  While Neville was padded in the middle and held a shy demeanor Harry could almost run his fingers through the mane of the wounded lion sleeping in boy’s soul, and Harry very much wanted to heal that lion and drag that pretty, dangerous kitty out into the sunshine.

Hey, he still thought Kyouya was adorable.

The fact of the matter was there was something about Neville Longbottom that called to Harry much in the same manner that Kyouya had and then later Tetsu.  It was stronger than the pull he felt to Miss Granger, though that just might be his irritation and their personality differences at this point- Harry wasn’t a Sky and Harmony wasn’t his thing- but Neville was just begging for someone to give him a guiding hand and half a chance, and as they took out their wands to go over the wand movements and Harry felt the way the wand the boy was using rebelled against Longbottom, Harry vowed to be that person.

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Harry’s first Astronomy class was on a Wednesday, so the following day when most his classmates were trying to sleep off the midnight class, Harry was gratefully using his laptop to talk to his Papá.  Japan had computers, but he was only supposed to contact his Papá or Dr. Shamal with his laptop while he was at school, his journal was for Kyouya and Tetsu to keep in touch with him.  (Though Kyouya mostly just wrote down the number of herbivores he had bitten to death and sketched birds or other cute animals, leaving Tetsu to do all the actual reporting.)

Tuesday had marked his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Professor Quirrell and being near the man had made him ill.

The rest of the week wasn’t too bad though most of the classes except for Herbology and Charms chafed at Harry something fierce and Harry was unhappy but unsurprised to see that Miss Granger had taken the rival route as a coping mechanism, which also irritated him because she was anything but humble or gracious when she achieved something. 

Potions was the final class of the week and had been a nightmare of a disaster, and it was only his iron-clad self-control that kept him from snapping at Professor Snape and pulling a Kyouya, (or a Reborn, really). 

Harry grabbed Longbottom as they left class, dragged the other boy back to the dorms, changed them both and then proceeded to drag the other boy to one of the many unused classrooms before promptly going into ‘sempai mode’ and starting with stretches before moving on to the most basic Aikido forms.  As he calmed, Harry felt rather bad about all of his manhandling of Longbottom’s person, but the other boy didn’t really seem to mind all that much and was a surprisingly quick study.

As I suspected, he is a kinetic learner and theory is best explained while his body is in motion.  Harry thought to himself as he allowed Longbottom a breather, and settled back against the edge of one of the desks as Longbottom pulled up a piece of stone floor.  “Do you enjoy this world, Longbottom?” he asked eventually, pushing his glasses up and looking Longbottom directly in the eye when the boy peered up at him through blond bangs.

Longbottom’s mouth moved, but no sound emerged and the other boy grimaced, but Harry kept his gaze steady and even because he could feel that this moment was important and crucial, “No.” the boy said eventually, voice bitter and hollow, “I don’t.  It doesn’t enjoy me either.  There was a delay in my letter; it arrived on my birthday just a few hours after my birth time, and unknown to me my Gran had already set into motion a plan to conceive another Heir.”

Neville raised his head and a mocking smile spread across his lips as he looked Harry dead in the eye, “My parents were tortured into insanity, so their bodies are still fully functional, you see.  My parents have officially been moved back to the Longbottom Estate, and my mother had been confirmed to be pregnant with my father’s child, though the strain from the pregnancy and birth will likely kill her.  I am no longer the Longbottom Heir, the House is just waiting until the baby is born to make it official.  So, no, I do not enjoy this world, Heir Potter.”

Harry leaned forward and smiled, sword-sharp and ferocious, “Then would you like to come with me when I leave it behind?”  He asked as he thought about his father’s response to his plan.

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It took Longbottom two days to decide, but when he did it was wholehearted and unreserved.

(Pity, that some people don’t know what they’ve got until it is gone.)

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Reborn reread his son’s first message via laptop since going to that thrice-dammed school and sighed heavily, absently stroking Leon as he thought about all the contingencies that needed to be planned for in the coming weeks.

“Papá,

There is something violently wrong with Professor Quirrell. 

At the Opening Feast, the Headmaster announced that we should stay away from the Third Floor Corridor if we ‘don’t wish to die a most painful death’ and Grapplehook sent me that letter after I had that impromptu trip with Hagrid that none of my vaults had been compromised by the attempted break-in at Gringotts, and my instincts are screaming at me that those are all connected, because Hagrid emptied a vault that day and made a big deal about being ‘on an important mission for Professor Dumbledore’.

I think that this is the scheme we were afraid of, and I’m pretty sure it has something to do with that ублюдок who killed mum and dad, because they never found his body, and the Goblins said that there wasn’t enough Flame in my scar to account for a full passage into the next plane.

I think we should ask Kyouya’s family for an Enforced Reincarnation Ceremony that can be performed on the Winter Solstice.

I know that it is an incredible expense- and if I’m wrong it’s all wasted, but we’d have the element of surprise, Papá.

You’ve never, ever tried to mollycoddle me, and I’ve always respected that so please trust me when I say that I feel that this is the best course of section available, because I don’t want to be here for years, Papa. 

I don’t want to be Harry Potter.  I want to be Nakamura Hikaru or Adriano Potter-Sinclair, but this golden child that these people are expecting?  I can’t be him, but I can’t let the bastard who killed Mum and Dad walk free either.  Please Papá, I know this is sudden and against everything, but please.

-Adriano”

Reborn knew that Adriano was only eleven, but he also trusted the instinct that Reborn himself had had a major hand in shaping.  If Adriano had taken the information he had been presented with and come up with that conclusion, (and Reborn had drawn the same one after going over the attached transcribed conversation that Adriano had sent him with his message), then Reborn would call Fon and have the Storm Arcobaleno make sure that the Hibari family came through.

Reborn had gone to visit Fon back when Adriano had informed him of Kyouya and Fon’s relation, and the Storm Arcobaleno was the only other person other than Shamal- who had found Adriano- who knew that Reborn had a son, and that was fine because Reborn knew about Kyouya. 

The fact that Reborn and Fon had always gotten along helped a great deal but it was Adriano’s overwhelmingly positive influence on Kyouya’s life that had caused Fon to feel such fondness for the young Sun.  It also helped that while Fon despised Kyouya’s mother, he was rather amiable with the woman’s brother, so the Storm Arcobaleno had fairly good dealings with the Hibari clan as long as the woman was kept far away from Fon.  The downside was that the woman was a Cloud, and even though she didn’t want Kyouya she didn’t want Fon to have him either.  That meant that Fon had to stay away from his son until the boy was old enough to handle anything his irrational mother threw at him, assassins included, not to mention anything the Triads might try if they found out about Kyouya- and Kaguya was insane enough to tell them herself just to keep Fon and Kyouya apart.  Kouske had told Kyouya his father’s name or the boy wouldn’t even know that much.

Fon might be a prodigy martial artist, but he didn’t always have the greatest taste in women, then again Hibari Kaguya was extraordinarily beautiful, deadly, and fierce, so maybe that was her appeal to begin with, Fon hadn’t exactly had long-term plans with her, after all.

What all this boiled down to, was while the Enforced Reincarnation Ceremony was one of the most intricate ceremonies to craft and cost enough money to supply a small army for a moderate siege, it was worth every euro, yen, or pound if that meant that Adriano would be free afterwards.

Reborn believed this would work.  It had to.

Besides, if they truly defeated the ‘Dark Lord Voldemort’ with this Ceremony, then Adriano’s Family Magic would assert control over the Dark Marks. The Dark Marks which were actually the result of a hybridization of the Avalonian Oath Sworn, and Conquered Vows and the Tribute Marques of the Mayan Tribes of South America. 

This basically made all the people who accepted the Dark Marks Voldemort’s суки- and the man had planned far enough ahead to account for needing to adapt to a new body.  This was bad news for any who had a Dark Mark, as the way it was designed that Mark couldn’t be applied to someone who did not want it, which is probably why all the intel Reborn had gathered corroborated the theory that the insane megalomaniac hid his true self until after his followers were Marked because after that, death was the only escape from his fold.

Unfortunately for them, as Voldemort had based the creation of the Mark on the same sort of magic and rules that governed Family Magic, once Adriano removed him from this plane of existence for good they automatically became Adriano’s bitches.

Or, more accurately, it made them Reborn’s bitches.

Hmm, what to do with the majority of the money, power, and nobility of Central-West Magical Europe at my disposal?  Reborn thought with a dark chuckle as had Leon change into a phone and held it loosely against his ear, “Fon?  Yes, well, we have a bit of a situation….”

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The next few weeks were an exercise in patience for Harry, but since he had someone to focus his energies on, it wasn’t as taxing as it could have been.  Oh, he still heard the whispering, tittering, snide commentary, and loud remarks as he made his way around the school but he kept his head high and his shoulders back as he refused to be cowed by these herbivores.

In an amusing turn of events, Kyou-chan had apparently deigned it necessary to attend his Herbology and Astronomy- both classes were held outdoorish- classes with him and she approved of Longbottom.  (They had agreed to wait to switch to first names until mid-October to make sure that Harry didn’t accidentally bind House Potter to House Longbottom on the off chance that the Family Magics decided to be contrary.)  Professor Sinstra had been fascinated by Kyou-chan’s excellent behavior, and Professor Sprout had been reluctant, but accepting when Kyou-chan only caused issues when people tried to disrupt her class.

(He’d caught both Professors slipping the little spoiled avian treats several times this past week and Longbottom had just laughed at his resigned expression.)

Miss Granger, while looking more and more isolated and lonely by the day, was stubbornly clinging to her abrasive habits and ghastly coping mechanisms and Harry could only shake his head and sigh wearily.  You can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make it drink.  He would remind himself firmly, because as much as he wanted to help the girl she had to want to accept his help first.

Classes themselves weren’t really an issue, as Harry went over the material verbally while he ran Longbottom through his Aikido forms, as the physical movement seemed to make the boy’s brain go into genius-mode or something.  Though Harry could already see that Longbottom needed a different style or a different teacher, but for now they were managing as they were still at the bare basics.  Not to mention Longbottom was having to learn what eight-year-olds were usually learning about reiki, and most of that was almost impossible to understand without being able to speak Japanese, and Kyou-chan had disappeared for a day or two, only to come back with a backpack full of textbooks, so there were all those things to start going through as well.  (How she had carried the thing would forever mystify Harry, but he’d just worshipped her appropriately.)

Ah, well, at least they weren’t bored.

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Neville Longbottom would be nothing less than unrelenting.

He had been told that his entire existence hinged on a single letter, and then that letter had come- delayed by a measly eighty minutes due to a storm- his family had already written him off, had already decided that his mother, who had already sacrificed her sanity and vitality for him, was to die bearing another, better Heir because he was useless to their House.

It wasn’t that he hated his House, and it wasn’t like they were evil, villainous paragons of evil.  They were frightened, desperate people terrified of losing their prestige, name, and lifestyle and had therefore resorted to something that they never would have thought of had the situation been any less dire.

But, after a lifetime spent cowering in a merciless, terrifying, soul-shattering storm, Neville had managed to find the sun. 

Warm, bright, brilliant sunshine that danced radiantly over the broken shards of Neville’s soul and made them worth something, and when he stumbled, spilled, and stuttered, he’d expect his newfound source of light to turn away from him- like everyone else always had- but Harry’s green eyes would be steady and free of censure.  And when Neville would get something right, there wouldn’t be a sense of ‘finally you dunce’ just a quiet sense of ‘I knew you could do it’ and they would push forward without pause- Harry never questioning if Neville could handle the workload or keep up or make something of himself.

For those reasons- for Harry Potter- Neville Longbottom would be nothing less than unrelenting.

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With the brutal workload they were setting, it was no wonder it took Harry a few days to figure out that they were being followed, but to Harry’s defense, the stalker wasn’t following them all the way to their practice room either. 

It was partway into the fourth week of September before Harry decided to confront the little tag-a-long, however.

Sending Longbottom on ahead with the excuse of needing the bathroom, Harry casually backtracked down the hallway to the section that was devoid of portraits or tapestries and was ready for when the person rounded the corner- he was surprised by their identity though.

“Zabini.” Harry greeted neutrally, keeping a sharp eye out for any signs of hostility.

The obviously-of-Italian-ancestry boy made sure to keep his hands visible, but he was obviously also on guard, “Potter.” He greeted in an equally neutral voice.

Harry hummed, DC schedules aside he was exhausted with all the time he was putting in with Longbottom and he wasn’t in the mood for mind games, “You’ve been following us closely for at least three days, and observing pretty closely from a distance for at least a week before that, what do you want?”

Zabini gaze Harry a heavy, assessing look, “It’s your glasses.” The other boy said after a few minutes of tense silence, “I rather like their accessories.”

My glasses don’t have any accessories except for Dr. Shamal’s-  Harry’s lips curved into a parody of a grin, “Yes, the Flame pattern adds a nice touch, don’t you think?”

Something excited flashed through Zabini’s eyes, “Yes, definitely adds character, Potter.  I noticed that you are abysmal in Potions.  Perhaps you would enjoy a tutor?”

Technically speaking, Harry was fine in Potions, it was the teacher.  On the other hand, this would give Zabini reasonable access to Harry and vice-vera, and Harry’s instincts weren’t screaming at him about the Slytherin.  Zabini also wasn’t one of the idiots who tried to throw his name, wealth, or connections around, unlike that jackass Bad Faith.  The Italian was actually one of the decent ones, from what Harry had observed, the boy didn’t go out of his way to be a hero but he would cause trouble for the idiots who thought it was fun to heap abuse on others if he saw an opportunity, though you had to be really observant to notice because the boy was good.

Harry’s trip into Introspectionville only took a moment, “This way.” Was all he said as he headed towards the room that he and Longbottom had designated as theirs.

Longbottom had given Zabini a glance and then looked to Harry, who had shrugged, and then the other boy had smiled at the newcomer and went back to work, and that had been that.

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October came and the duo had firmly become a trio. Harry made the executive decision that he was going to create the Disciplinary Committee: Hogwarts Edition.  Harry had then explained the issue to Zabini and Longbottom, including all the work that was going to go into creating said Committee, and they agreed to help him and so for three weeks of October, on top of everything else that they were doing, they were compiling character assessments of each and every student currently enrolled and figuring out the school’s administrative/managerial system.

Seeing as how they were in England, Harry had decided that the Committee emblem would be a pictorial relief of Kyou-chan, and that the Prefects would be chosen by the Committee, as in Namimori, though the teachers could nominate so that was the easy parts taken care of at least.

Harry well and truly missed Tetsu right now as he waded through the stacks of reports that they had compiled on Hogwarts operations as Zabini and Longbottom were filling out yet more character assessments.

By what he was seeing, they would more than likely have to take over the school, like he and Kyouya had had to do with Nami-chuu, as the Board of Governors was an Oversight Committee who were improperly doing their jobs, and the faculty really had no authority other than the assignation of detentions outside of their classrooms, according to everything he had waded through thus far.

The Headmaster could make decisions wide-spectrum regarding the curriculum and the budget, but that was basically it, and while that was time consuming it was how the current Headmaster was able to hold so many other positions at once, as only the most repeat offenders were sent to him for discipline and most of the daily school operations were run through the Deputy Headmaster, or Headmistress, in this case.

The Heads of House had alarming unilateral authority to corral their students, but with the teachers being severely underpaid and overworked, the Houses were let to run wild, and Professor McGonagall held three positions.  Three!

Madam Pomfrey’s medical reports seemed to never make it to the proper authorities, and the Forbidden Forest held a host of animals deemed unsafe to be near pediatrics- which were children under the age of 19!- by medical professionals, and she and her predecessor had been sending those reports in since circa 1956!

Even Professor Snape- bullying bastard that he was- had lodged more than eighteen complaints about the venting in his classroom, but was always denied.  Professor Sprout had repeatedly warned about cross contamination in her Greenhouses but was denied permits for more.  Professor Flitwick had complained repeatedly that the Charms classroom needed to be rotated.  At least twenty-seven DADA Professors had recommended a Ward Cleansing in the last 35 years, and that was just what they had managed to put together so far.

Harry groaned and let his head fall forward and connect with the wooden desk with a solid thunk.  “Oh God, why?” he moaned pathetically into the wood.

His so-called allies only laughed at him, the traitorous bastards.

“Chin up, Potter.” Longbottom said disgustingly cheerfully, “Just think about all the generations that you’ll be saving from gross incompetence!”

Zabini snorted softly, “I think that will just make it worse, Longbottom.”

“But why!  Just think about all the people who will grow up and do great things because Potter went through all this shit now!”

“Longbottom.” Harry sad, his voice muffled by the desk.

“Yes?”

“Shut.  Up.”

Zabini full-out laughed and after a short moment Longbottom joined in, Harry just groaned in misery as he went back to work.

Harry really, really missed Tetsu.

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The day of Halloween was annoying. 

They had Charms with the Gryffindors, and while Harry could admit that Miss Granger was being particularly abrasive that day, Weasley had crossed the line into being cruel.  Harry had already had a few run-ins with Ronald Weasley, and even more with Fred and George Weasley.  While he could appreciate the humor in some of what the twins did, most of the ‘pranks’ that they pulled were on younger students who didn’t know how to reverse the spells, which did not please Harry at all.

So, while Miss Granger ran off crying, Harry rounded on Weasley and unleased a good two months’ worth of pent up irritation, “What gives you the right to explode like that at her?” He growled.

“What?” Weasley asked rudely, “You don’t like her either!”

Harry felt Longbottom settled at his side, and hated himself just a little for the momentary with that it was Kyouya standing there, but he pushed the emotion aside and pressed forward, “Miss Granger is difficult to handle, I’ll admit, but she was trying to help you.  You had no right to be so incredibly foul to her, Mr. Weasley.”

Weasley sneered, and Harry cringed at the traces of grease that lingered around the boy’s mouth.  Note to self:  Make sure that the Committee enforces hygiene.  “You think you’re so much better than the rest of us, eh, Mr. ‘Boy-Who-Lived’?  Bet you got everything you ever wanted, waited on hand and foot, walking around in your fancy clothes with your poncy accent- betcha think you can talk down on the rest of us cause you took down You-Know-Who?”

There was a shift in the air.  The tension had already been high, had already been rife with cruelty and held a sense of expectant savagery.  Harry had known that he hadn’t done the ‘spoiled little boy’ rumors any good when he was wearing the well-tailored high quality robes, and the high quality clothes that he wore when he was out of his school uniform, but he didn’t care.  His Papá cared about clothes and about the way he presented himself, so Harry had learned to as well, and the fabrics were soft and comfortable.

“I think,”  Harry said slowly, deliberately as he subtly drew himself up and deliberately relaxed his muscles as his world narrowed and sharpened and he used the voice that brooked no arguments or interruptions, “That on this very night ten years ago, my Mum and Dad did something amazing that allowed me to survive and banished the one known as the Dark Lord Voldemort-“ he ignored the flinches and yelps, “and the fact that it cost them their lives is something that I live with every day.  My desire to stop you from being abjectly cruel to a bossy but kindhearted girl had nothing to do with the clothes I’m wearing or the manner in which my parents died.”

Harry whirled and pinned all the bystanders with his piercing gaze, “You’re all party to this cruelty.  Both Miss Granger’s and my own.  You might not have uttered the words, but you also did nothing to stop them and you could have.  ‘Evil triumphs when good men do nothing’ remember that.”

Harry gestured to Longbottom and the two spun on their heels and walked away, their backs straight and defiant despite the heated whispers that broke out behind them once they reached the end of the hallway.

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Harry and Longbottom went to their room and it wasn’t long afterwards that they were joined by Zabini.  The boys were respectful of Harry’s need for physical exercise, and so they merely went to work on organizing the Committee research while Harry went through all of the Eastern exercises that he had been taught for releasing his negativity.

Eventually he calmed, and while he would go shower, showering would mean returning to the Tower, which would certainly involve some biting to death of some herbivores at this point in time, so Harry used some hygiene charms, and went to help Zabini and Longbottom with the Committee research.

“Ok guys.”  Harry said several hours later, considerably calmer, “Let’s get going.”

“Er-” Zabini started.

Longbottom even looked wide-eyed, and lately that kid had been ridiculously Classically Rain-ish.

Harry sight and slipped his glasses into of his hair and pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to stave off his headache, “Look, I don’t really want to go associate with those herbivores right now, but if we don’t go then it will undermine everything that I said, and the fact that I held my temper when that brat insulted my parents’ sacrifice like it was something that could be bought with money would mean nothing.”

Zabini’s eyes widened before they quickly took on a calculating look and Longbottom’s eyes went scarily Storm-ish.  I’m beginning to think that Longbottom is a Rain-Storm, and I am pretty sure that Zabini is a solid Mist, like scary Shamal-level Mist.

Longbottom and Zabini rose, and the Slytherin had a rather disturbing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, “Well, let’s not disappoint.” The Italian purred.

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Harry was trying to remember how he and Longbottom had ended up here.

Oh, right.  The Feast.  Quirrell.  The Troll.  The Headmaster’s ridiculous order, (half the fucking school was housed in the dungeons!), and once again the faculty showed their incompetence outside the classroom as the Prefects were obviously not suited for their positions if they would not listen to the fact that there was a student missing.

That was how he and Longbottom came to be standing outside of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, (hardly anyone ever used it, according to Miss Patil, so Miss Granger had been hiding in here all day and Myrtle had been terrorizing anyone who had come near), looking at the backside of a Troll and listening to the terrified shrieking of a young girl.

“The Committee goes live in January or bust.” Harry groused irritably.

Longbottom huffed a laugh beside him, “The plan, Boss?”

Harry just groaned louder, “I hope a certain someone never hears you say that.  Alright, I’m going to distract it, you get the girl and head the other direction, alright?”

Longbottom’s eyes sharpened and he nodded seriously as another shriek came from the bathroom, followed by the sound of something shattering.

Harry was already irritating the Troll, “Oi!  Parli italiano?  你会说意大利语?  Вы говорите по-итальянски?”

“What are you saying?” Longbottom asked as the Troll started lumbering after Harry, and the Longbottom grabbed Miss Granger and started dragging her out of the bathroom.

“I basically asked if it could speak Italian in Italian, Chinese, and Russian.”  Harry called back cheekily as darted in the opposite direction, the Troll might be a hulking, stupid brute but its strides were much longer than his, and soon Harry was far away from Longbottom and Miss Granger, herding the Troll towards the Third Floor staircase.  He put his parkour practice to good use once he caught sight of the Professors and the Headmaster headed towards the Troll as Harry was being careful to keep the view of him obscured by walls of shadows, quickly disappearing onto a nearby stairwell, and piggybacking off others to make a speedy getaway.

Harry made it back to Ravenclaw Tower, and there he was immediately assaulted by a human-shaped leech, fortunately Longbottom was kind enough to provide them with cover until Harry could maneuver them into a corner alcove, where Harry once again allowed Miss Granger to cry into his shoulder.  This time, however, he shared a long-suffering look with Longbottom, who was leaning on the doorway to provide them with some privacy.

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Miss Granger’s breakdown on Halloween hadn’t really done anything other than mellow the girl in her interactions with her fellow students.  After she’d cried on Harry that night, she had thanked them for saving her before retiring up to her dorm, but she hadn’t really treated them any differently the next day.

So, the boys kept plodding through character assessments, with Harry secretly sending reports to his Papá, getting his input on issues, as the Disciplinary Committee: Hogwarts Edition coincided with some of Reborn’s own schemes.  (Though Harry would admit to not knowing what even a quarter of those schemes were, only that they existed.)  Eventually they compiled a reasonable list of people who would be taking over the school in January, when the Disciplinary committee was scheduled to be executed.

It was halfway into November when they had managed to finalize the lists, and by then Kyou-chan had once again disappeared, this time for almost a week, which caused Harry great amounts of exasperation as Professors Sprout and Sinstra fussed about the glorious avian’s absence something terrible.  When she returned, she was bearing the Enforced Reincarnation Ceremony, ad apparently he needed to do something nice for Kyouya’s dad because there were other things to make his life easier in the care package as well.

Under the current school rules, the teachers were in meetings on the second and fourth Sunday of every month, so Harry was going to use that time to raid the Third Floor Corridor while Zabini and Longbottom went around feeling out the people on the list, so they could get the future Committee Members’ training started.  One thing that the assessment that Tetsu had sent over held was a ‘Projected Potential Calculator’ of Tetsu’s own design that helped assess if someone who was somewhat of a bully or meek at the present held the potential to become an asset in the future.  Of course, it was partially dependent on a questionnaire that the person filled out, an interview, and their training scores, but it was scarily accurate.

Tetsu really was an administrative/managerial genius.

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Harry found the enchantments on the Third Floor to be laughably easy to bypass, the Cerberus easily soothed with a Soothe Sutrā that Fon had procured for him, then he was down the trapdoor and the Devil’s Snare lasted about a half a second against his Sun Flames.  The room with the keys was interesting from a Charms perspective, but Harry just used his Activation overbalance the Charm and forced it to come full circle and unlock.  The Chessboard was interesting, but Harry merely scaled the Chamber walls and stayed away from the points where the magic was anchored to the stone, dropping back down to the floor on the other side of the room, past the point where the enchantment ended.  The Troll was actually annoying, Harry got a few scraped and bruises knocking it out, but it really didn’t take all that long.

If he wasn’t being extra, extra cautious he’d be paranoid over the fact that he was being herded, but these ‘obstacles’ were unusually easy or he was just used to thinking flexibly.

When he stepped into the next area and flames sprung up on either side of him, he was slightly excited, thinking there might actually be security measures in place.  Then he read the logic puzzle and sniffed the vials and realized that the actual potion was among them and his eyebrow twitched in irritation.  Stubbornly ignoring the vials, Harry coated himself in his Sun Flames and stepped brazenly through the flames, into what had to be the final chamber as it was a rounded room with no doors, empty save for an ornate, old-fashioned mirror that rested on golden, clawed feet.

Harry stepped in front of the reflective surface and he felt the strain on his reiki mainspring as something tried to connect with him, even as a weight slid into his pocket.  Harry slipped the shiny red rock-thing out of his pocket enough to figure that this was probably whatever Voldemort wanted, and got the hell out of there, dodging strands of enchantments that were strewn about the room as he did so.

He’d glanced at the top of the mirror and he had never been more grateful for his passive shell than he was right at this moment- he had all he could ever desire, it did no good to dwell on ‘what if’ or ‘could have been’.

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The next day, Harry was relieved that no one thought to go through the students’ trunks the next day, and absolutely irritated that no one seemed to know that the rock of super magical powers was missing.  He had managed to get back to his dorm and slip the rock into the Moleskin pouch that he had pick up in the Alley, and then he had spent some time sewing, (thank you Asuka-obaa-san and Hinata-san!), the small pouch into the inside of a sock, before wrapping the sock in several reiki strips that were written to make the object seem vastly uninteresting, before putting the sock with its mate, and stuffing that pair in the very bottom of this trunk.

So, it was with a certain amount of vindictive pleasure that Harry welcomed the group of students to the classroom that the trio had appropriated for Committee use, “Welcome.  Thank you all for coming.  Now, as you know there is an alarming lack of infrastructure currently in place here at Hogwarts.  As you all know from the Committee Commitments that you’ve each signed you will all be crucial to establishing and maintaining……”

As Harry spoke, his gaze roved about the students and he let his mind run through the information he had on all of them.

In their Slytherin contingent, there was Gemma Farley, Fifth Year, a Prefect in her own right but she was tremendously frustrated by her inability to actually do anything meaningful to help most of her charges, as Professor Snape had many duties and since the Headmaster took a rather dim view to Slytherins in general, so if you weren’t a Malfoy crony, you were pretty much screwed and she hated that fact.  Terrence Higgs was a serious little Third Year with a good head on his shoulders and a keen sense of perception, and Gavin Vaisey was a Second Year Slytherin with a vast amount of untapped potential in several areas.

That brought him to their Hufflepuffs, and first up was the clumsy but dangerous Nymphadora Tonks, Seventh Year.  On her heels was Kayla Summers, Sixth Year, who was a timid little thing unless she had a reason to stand up and be heard, and then all bets were off because then she was fierce.  Cedric Diggory, Third Year, would seem like a quintessential people-pleaser at first glance, and right now the boy was, but there was a spine of steel hiding underneath that easygoing smile and Harry as determined to drag it out into the light of day.  Their last ‘Puff was Triss Stebbins, a Fourth Year, who right now was a hot mess but there was a lot of rough talent that was rapidly decaying for lack of care, and Harry was determined to fix that issue.

The Gryffindors were by and large too undisciplined and used to running roughshod right now to be of much use, but there were a few gems sitting in the room.  Kenneth Towler, Third Year, was something of an outcast as he had a quiet, dignified strength that wasn’t currently recognized by the House of Lions, but make no mistake about it, there was a dangerous predator lurking in that boy’s soul.  Patricia Stimpson, Third Year, was an awkward girl with acne and disproportioned body parts, but she had a sharp mind and a terrifying sense of vengeance when crossed, though she was scrupulously fair.

Bringing them full circle to the Ravenclaws, and first up was Jessica Chambers, Sixth Year, she had lost her Prefect badge due to an altercation with another Ravenclaw Prefect earlier this Term, because she refused to be cowed into silence even though the victim of the attack had been and things had been smoothed over, as Jessica was a half-blood and the other Prefect was a Pureblood, and the victim a muggleborn.  Sarah Fawcett, Fourth Year, was a victim of extreme bullying from her dorm mates and some of the other girls here at school because she was doll pretty and smart, but she was also humble and kind and so Harry had included her as she wasn’t a drama-risk.  Eddie Carmichael, Third Year, was a young man who was fascinated by the world around him and was often made fun of and bullied for that fact, but Eddie stood strong and would step in to help others even though he wasn’t a strong fighter himself, so he’d earned his place as well.

(Harry hadn’t had them approach Miss Granger, as she was still working through her issues, but he hoped that she would start to come around before the group reached full cohesion.)

These were the people he was leaving his Mum and Dad’s magical legacy to, as Longbottom was going with Harry, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Zabini would find a way to crash their escape as well.

Ah, well, I’ll just have to make sure that they can survive the first six months of Kyouya’s ‘initiation’.

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Harry also had another project that he hadn’t told anyone about- he was looking for the Heart of Hogwarts.

The Wards of Hogwarts had a whole bunch of legend and lore and myth flying around about them, but you wouldn’t know anything close to the truth unless you had access to specific information, like Harry did.

Voldemort was said to have traveled the world and learned magic from many foreign lands, and Harry had no doubt that that was a very true statement, but he- as Reborn and Dr. Shamal had explained it to him- also felt that Voldemort’s innate sense of superiority prevented the man from truly immersing himself into the cultures and traditions and therefore the man only got a fraction of the information.  Voldemort also became heavily active here in England here in the 1970’s, but wasn’t rumored to have been a contemporary of Grindelwald, which meant that his wandering most likely took place between 1940 and 1970, not exactly the best time to be traveling as a European male in the East, Africa, Russia, even as a magical.

The United States barely had a magical population outside of the indigenous people and they had a healthy dislike of outsiders, which left Canada, Central America, and South America on that side of the world, and while much could be learned from the indigenous tribes, the further south you went the more steeped in blood and violence it seemed to become.  Not that all the magicals in Central-South America were bloodthirsty barbarians, but the Mayan influences still ran strong throughout most of the tribes that would have caught a man like Voldemort’s interest.  The peaceful tribes probably wouldn’t have garnered more than a passing interest, despite their powerful magics.

All these factors meant that, most like, Voldemort wouldn’t have known what Harry knew about the types of Wards that were surrounding Hogwarts.  Oh, he didn’t know the specifics and probably wouldn’t be able to understand half of what was written, but renewing something and creating it were two entirely different things.  Harry needed to find the Heart and repair any damage done to the sigils or springs or anything of the like that the Founders had placed down there, that way when they used the Enforced Reincarnation Ceremony, the ‘rebirth’ aspect of the Winter Solstice would be funneled into the Wards, most likely raising them to a level they hadn’t been at since the not long after the Founders passed.

(Because Harry sincerely doubted that the Founders, who planned for the Castle to have an ever-changing floor plan, hadn’t made sure the building had sufficient heat save for the occasional fireplace.)

The tedious thing about this was finding the damn thing, but a lot of people had put a great deal of work into his plan so failure was not an option.

While it might seem strange that in a thousand years there hadn’t been an Eastern student who had found the Heart, the information Harry had in his possession wasn’t the type of information a typical Eastern student could get a hold of- it was old line Shrine Master information.

Even still, it was cutting it damn close when he did find it on the 16^th of December, barely a week before the Solstice. 

The Heart was a massive domed cavern, with a sort-of lake surrounding a stone slab that spiraled off to connect to the wall in sections like a massive stone whirlpool that was absolutely covered with symbols, character, and runes.  The stone glowed lightly, illuminating the cavern, but it felt off, and the water was murky and that felt off as well.  It took him nearly five days of spending his every spare moments cleaning to unclog the draining pipes- burn away the mossy slimy crap that was absolutely every and slippery as fuck- and add all the things that he had been sent to add in the correct places.

With the water flowing through it and the moss gone, it was already brighter, but Harry just knew that it would look much more beautiful when all the blackened, burned writing sprang back to life when the Enforced Reincarnation Ceremony and the Solstice renewed them.

Harry rolled his shoulder wearily and headed back towards the entrance, he needed to rest so that he would be ready for his mission and hopefully after Voldemort was gone his Papá’s schemes would help catalyze everything, otherwise Harry was going to pull all of his hair out before this thrice-dammed year was finally over.

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The students left for Break on the 20^th, and the reiki strips that he had been steadily laying down in Professor Quirrell’s classroom and working into his homework papers ensured that the man would still be in the castle for the Solstice, which was the 22^nd. 

The greatest part was that he could trap the man’s office with the Enforced Reincarnation Ceremony while the man was at the mandatory Staff meeting, and since he would likely be tired and irritated when he came back it would just make him that much less likely to realize the trap.

Harry had gotten into the office with relative ease, suspicious and pleased by the man’s security.  He quickly set up the Ceremony, triple-checking his work to ensure that everything was perfect before getting out.

Harry waited on a stairwell about two floors up and three halls over with a good line of sight for Quirrell to come back from the meeting, doubling back as he saw the man and calling out to him from behind, “Excuse me, Professor?”

The man jumped in fright and whirled around, “Y-yes M-m-r. P-p-ot-t-t-t-e-r-r-r?”

“May I speak with you for a moment about the Hol assignment?  I won’t take up much time, I promise!” Harry did his best to look wide eyed and innocent, but his heartbeat was loud and his adrenaline was high.

The man nodded shakily and unlocked the door to his classroom with his wand, and led the way to his office, unlocking the door and reaching for the handle before pausing.

Harry’s breath caught- this was it, everything, months of planning and favors and work and if he didn’t go in without a fight, Harry wasn’t sure if-

Quirrell turned the knob and stepped forward, striding towards his desk.

Harry followed, the door swung shut behind him.

The seals snapped into place; the chains of ink, blood, reiki, and soul wrapped around Quirrell before the man could draw his wand.

Harry looked on, impassive.

The Ceremony began and started feeding off of Harry’s reiki and Flames as the unforgiving judgment latched onto the intent of the full soul and thrust it into the next plane without pause.

Quirrell seized, his eyes wide with wild terror and then he screamed, before his body went limp, blood oozing out of his ears, nose, and mouth.

The Ceremony continued uncompromisingly, wrapping condemnatory fingers around the broken shard of what was once a man, demanding that the pieces return to the main portion once more as the blackened, disgusting wraith screamed psychically as it writhed and twisted in panicked desperation, but without a body there was no way for the wraith to vocalize its agony properly.

Harry felt tears prick his eyes, but he didn’t look away, he forced himself to watch.  Voldemort must have been a man once, he thought sadly, I bet that he was a man with a great deal of potential, but his choices had led him to this, and while this judgment is a fair one it’s really sad to watch, but I don’t wanna forget what can happen when power goes to your head.  Not ever.

There was a tension in the air for nearly a quarter of an hour as Harry watched Voldemort writhe in the unforgiving grip of the Ceremony, then, with an almost audible snap the air shifted.  In the next moment, a locket, a crown, a diary, a cup, and a ring appeared at Harry’s feet and then five black wraiths exploded from them and the Ceremony grabbed them separately even as the main piece struggled harder, screaming so loudly psychically that Harry’s ears and nose bled, and he was feeling the drain on his reiki and his Flames but he would see this through.

Harry grit his teeth and threw all of his willpower behind his reiki and his Flames as the Ceremony twined the soul back together even as it restrained it, and just as Harry thought that he was going to pass out, and the Wraith started to seem as if it had a chance, Harry had a breakthrough.

Beautiful purple Flames flared into existence in Harry’s point of view, and Harry knew what those Flames were capable of, knew how powerful and devastating they could be, and Harry gave his enemy a savage, blood stained grin as he pushed the full force of Propagation through him.

It didn’t take much longer after that, as the added force of the Cloud Flames tipped the scales and the Ceremony finally, finally banished Harry’s foe into the next plane, though Harry held his Flames for a few minutes longer before allowing himself to sink to his knees.

It’s over.  He thought somewhat hysterically as the Ceremony broke apart around him, It’s actually over.

Harry allowed himself about ten minutes to rest, but he wanted to get out of here before anyone got curious, and the renewal of the Wards should start at midnight, so he definitely wanted to have an alibi for that.  He wearily climbed to his feet and found a bag to put his trinkets into, before stealthily making his way back to the Tower, stowing his ill-gotten goods, showering, sending a message to Papa, and finally allowing himself the luxury of glorious sleep before shock over being the direct cause of a man’s death could cause a break down.

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Harry managed to wake up without screaming, but he had to quickly make his way to the bathroom and be sick.

The knowledge that you were capable and willing to end a life and the aftermath of doing so were two entirely different things.  I don’t regret it, he thought wearily as he slumped back against the stall door, At the same time I wonder if he had a mother or a father or a Kyouya or-

Harry swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat and forced himself to get back to bed, and once his curtains were shut properly he dug out his laptop and was surprised to see a message from Dr. Shamal waiting for him already.

“Brat,

Stop it.  Yes, that shit right there.  You’re a stupidly empathetic Sun, and that is fine, but don’t work yourself up unnecessarily because you’re scared because you don’t feel bad enough for taking him down- your Papá and I have taken down a lot of people for far less noble reasons, you know this, Adriano.

Now that that is out of the way, I’m currently sitting behind an illusion as your insane progenitor and his little Storm buddy as they terrorize Reborn’s new bitches.  There are a ridiculous number of them that came running to answer the overwhelming call that he sent out after the other one officially kicked it, and Reborn’s already killed about ten of the ones who thought that they could backtalk, while Stormy had kicked the crap out of at least another twenty. 

Reborn is using one of his famous master-of-disguises, and is calling himself ‘Lord Voldevolonté’, (loosely translated it means ‘Flight of Will’ as opposed to ‘Flight of Death’, not really his best work), and he is quite enjoying pounding his level of absolute ownership of them into their thick skulls.  The Dark Marks are officially being works through, as they either reaffirms their oaths or Reborn takes the penalties, and he’s being merciless. 

If they swear properly, the mark turns into a relief of a Skylark.  Reborn says that his research shows that the Mark takes the form of the animal that the creator feels most attached to, and given your recently-awakened Cloud nature and how close you two are, it’s not really surprising that you would subconsciously choose an animal that reminded you of Kyouya.

(Fon was also ridiculously pleased.)

Other than that, it is pretty entertaining here, sorry that this year is too hectic to do Christmas, but at least this is the only year you’ll have to spend at that school.  Go back to bed, brat, it’s more than likely still in the wee hours of the morning and I doubt that the purge of over eight hundred years of shit from those Wards is going to be a pleasant thing to sleep through.

Let your old man do what he does best and it’ll be fine.

-Shamal”

Harry smiled and decided to take the man’s advice and go back to bed, because it was only about half one, and it was going to be a busy break despite not having to deal with his classes.

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Harry spent most of the next few days by himself in the trio’s usual room, feeling progressively more ill as New Year approached as the Solstice’s Renewal drew all the shit out of the Wards and irritated by the lack of anything being said about the dead teacher in the castle, as all of the Committee members had left for the holidays, (Longbottom at Harry’s insistence, because Harry just knew that this would be the last time the boy would see his family’s Estate before his mother’s more-than-like death.), doing more set up and getting ready for when shit hit the fan January second, and the school became his domain.

He wasn’t particularly worried about the Headmaster or the teaching staff giving the Committee too much trouble.  With Reborn’s schemes going live in all of East-Central Europe, Headmaster Dumbledore was going to be up to his neck in work as the Chief Warlock and the ICW Chair, leaving Professor McGonagall even more work during an already hectic time.

The Board of Governors were now Reborn’s bitches, and they had been given the Committee agenda and were being told to pursue it as if their lives depended on it- because they, in fact, did.  While all of this was happening, the Committee members would already be letting the Prefects know about the change in ownership, as well as the new Rules and Regulations.  The current Prefects would be allowed to finish the year, but next year the DC would be in charge of appointing them, (they would most likely be DC members, really).

This Term, on top of firmly establishing the Committee’s authority and stringent enforcement of the Rules and Regulations, a host of guest Instructors were scheduled to descend upon Hogwarts the third week of January and they would be staying until second week of June, allowing the Instructors three six-week-terms to introduce their subjects to the Hogwarts populace.  Usually Hogwarts had a flexible end-of-term depending on the OWL and NEWT testing schedules, but Reborn had a thing for education, so they weren’t sure what was going to happen with that just yet.

The test subjects were a broad-spectrum mix of everything and most weren’t even serious subjects, but this exercise was designed to see what the students were interested in, what they excelled at, where the most glaring holes in their individual educations were as most Purebloods homeschooled and that level of education was always difficult to judge.

It’s like setting a well-written, easy to understand instruction booklet in front of someone and watching them flip through it disinterestedly, despite all the hard work you put into it to make it easy and understandable and no matter how much you scream at them about how important that information is they never lose that bored expression, so you eventually write them off as a loss and move on to someone who is actually putting forth effort. 

What you didn’t know is that while the book was written in plain, Modern English, they were taught Old Irish- which is close, but it’s a dialect so they didn’t understand your terms, but they were taught that not knowing was weakness and weakness can get you killed or your family enslaved, so they made sure to never look like they were struggling, and so the issue and the problem are entirely missed, and potential is lost.

Harry could just foresee a bunch of that happening with how backwards some things were done in this world and even with how overzealous some people could be about change, because there was some deep, wonderful, breathtaking history that was incredibly important to this culture lurking in the shadows of educational incompetence that should not disappear and Harry wanted to preserve that history and bring it to light and give these people their pride back, because even though he didn’t like them, this was still the place that his family had called home for nearly twenty-nine generations, as Grapplehook had made mention of a few surviving journal of Potter family members from pre-Hogwarts.

So, while Harry would be busy helping the Committee establish its authority, he wouldn’t really have to worry about the School Administration, and by the time he did the Committee would have it well in hand.  Harry had chosen Gemma Farley as the Disciplinary Leader, with Jessica Chambers as her right-hand.  Jessica was still smarting from being punished for doing what was right, and admitted that she was far more comfortable having a leader to report to, which was an incredibly honest statement to make and Harry respected her even more for it.

It took a great deal of courage to admit your own shortcomings or limits.

Terrence, Cedric, Kenneth, and Sarah were the respective points of contact for the respective Houses if an issue needed to be brought to the Committee’s attention while Gavin, Tonks, Kayla, and Triss, (even though most of them were really young, they were quick studies, and Harry was a patient but thorough teacher), were their enforcers, though the reps could fight if needed, they were just usually better with words or getting to the heart of an issue.  Eddie was currently Tetsu’s little protégé through vicarious means, and the young Ravenclaw was absolutely fascinated by Tetsu’s operations schedules and patrol routes and the like, so logistics were going to be left in good hands as well.

Harry sighed as he leaned back in his chair and tried to work the kinks out of his neck as he stared at the ceiling.  He had really hoped that Granger would come around before this point, as abrasive and annoying she could be she had a ridiculous amount of potential, and if it hadn’t been for her on the train he might not have noticed Longbottom, which would have been a damn shame.  Can’t win them all, I suppose.

Harry stumbled to his feet and grabbed the edge of the desk as a wave of vertigo washed over him, nearly sending him crashing to the floor as unbalanced reiki swirled through the castle walls.

I’m not going to make it to New Year at this rate.  Harry lamented in his head as he carefully made his way back towards the Tower, having to use the walls several times for support along the way, but he’d had to wrap his hands in cloth because touching them with his bare skin mad him even more sick.

That was probably why it took him until he was sitting on his bed in the dorm to realize that Longbottom had appeared at some point.

“Longbottom?” Harry asked roughly, immediately regretting it and cradling his head in his hands in a perfect picture of misery.  “What’s wrong?”

There was a pause.  That was bad.  Once you got to know him the trick was getting Longbottom to shut up.

“You were serious, right?” The other boy asked at length, “About leaving?”

Harry managed to force the nausea back enough to look at Longbottom, really look at him.  Damn.  He hadn’t seen the other boy this bad since September.  The young boy pushed through his thoughts and decided that he really didn’t want to be in this castle for the next few days, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t use his Flames to burn the Trace off the both of them.  “Do you have some clothes and shit?”

Longbottom looked startled, “Yes, I grabbed everything before I left.”

“Hmph, good.”

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Two teens sat in a ritual room in Gringotts Bank, clad only in their boxers, bloody runes, symbols, and characters carved into their skin.

Beyond the ritual’s reach, Dr. Shamal, Reborn, and the Goblins looked on silently.

They had left Hogwarts on Christmas Eve, in the early hours of the morning, passing through the Forbidden Forrest had been an adventure that had left then breathless, scratched, and laughing by the end, but they had made it.  The DC often took trips into the wilderness for training, so Harry had managed to get them back to civilization, a little Flame to the Trace and they had themselves a moderate hotel room and a place to talk.

Longbottom had proceeded to tell Harry that everything had been strained from the moment he’d stepped off the train, his relatives tired and weary and angry and more than willing to take those issues out on Longbottom himself, and when he had gotten home and seen his mother he’d nearly lost his grip on his temper, as not only was she fragile and very pregnant, they had restrained her out of fear that she would accidentally hurt the baby, which had made her condition worse.

Longbottom’s father, who had always been the worst out of the two of them as the man had been under the foul curse twice as long as his mother, had started having violent outbursts, and so his parents had been separated for the first time since their accident.  Longbottom’s eyes were haunted as he recalled being inside the silencing barrier with his father, listening to the man yell incomprehensible things and bang against the walls in desperation.

Longbottom had broken when he’d deciphered some of the gibberish and realized that some of the what the man was muttering sounded like his and his mother’s names.

Even broken his father was still fighting.

Longbottom had cried like a baby, and Harry had been a strong, steady presence, as the other boy had explained that Longbottom had planned it all out, using the skills that he had learned from Harry to end his father’s suffering and make it look like an accident before coming back to Hogwarts to find Harry and accept his punishment.

Harry had looked Longbottom steady in the eye and asked if the boy stood by his decision, and while Longbottom broke into a fresh wave of heartbroken sobs, he was resolute, and so Harry had clapped him on the shoulder and picked up the phone and called Reborn.

Which is how they came to be sitting in a ritual room in Gringotts on New Year’s Eve in nothing but their boxers and gory body art.

This ritual had designed for orphaned children, originally.  They had needed to modify it, because Longbottom was a Most Ancient and Most Noble House, and technically Longbottom was a kinslayer, but as the Family Magic hadn’t backlashed against him it was likely that the semi-sentient force had recognized the act of mercy and withheld judgment.   As they were using the ritual to adopt Longbottom into House Potter an Oath Sworn, it was actually a hybridization of an Adoption Ritual and an Oath Sworn Vow.  Harry had been perfectly willing to adopt Longbottom as a brother, though he’d never be in the line of succession and technically be akin to a cousin, but Longbottom had been ridiculously obstinate about being an Oath Sworn.

“I would have died without you, Potter.”  Longbottom had told him earnestly during one of their arguments about it, “I would have died and no one would have cared, but you gave a damn before I was worth anything to you.  I know it’s just because you could see what you thought was potential, but no one had ever done that before.  Please, Potter.  Please.  This will also protect me, and any children I might have, as they will be bound to you line and not the Longbottom one by my Oath, so please let me do this.”

In the end, Harry had relented, and Longbottom had been delighted, while Reborn had been smug, and Dr. Shamal had been fondly exasperated.

Since this wasn’t a full adoption, while Longbottom would take on some of Harry’s physical traits and gain some of the House Potter Family Magic, none of Harry’s Flame traits would carry over.

“It’s time.” Came the gravelly voice of the Ritual Master.

Harry straightened and held up his cut right hand, “Do you, Neville Franklin Longbottom cast aside your former identity…..”

The ritual continued, and after all the formalities and chances to back out were past, Harry grabbed his new Vassal’s bleeding left hand with his own bleeding right one, “Let there therefore be no dispute, that Neville Franklin Longbottom passed from this world during the twilight on December 27^th in the Year of Our Lord Nineteen Hundred and Ninety-One, and when dawn broke across the horizon, Marius Charlus-Orion Potter had been welcomed among our number.  If any contest this Proclamation, let them speak now or forever hold their peace!”

“So I have spoken, so shall it be.  By my blood, magic, and soul, welcome to House Potter, Marius.”

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To say that it had taken a great deal of Harry’s patience and effort to soothe Kyouya after telling the other boy about all of the events of late would be a gigantic understatement.  It took a lot of fast writing, and more than likely a lot of help from Tetsu on the other side of the journal, but eventually Kyouya’s feathers were somewhat settled.  Though Harry didn’t doubt for a moment that both he and Marius would be in for a great deal of pain before Kyouya evened out, though the gifts that Harry had sent back with his Papa and Dr. Shamal that held his newly-discovered Cloud Flames might help as well, as that was something that he and Kyouya shared exclusively in their little group.

The newly-christened Marius had actually gone with Dr. Shamal, as not only was ‘Neville Longbottom’ technically dead, but the boy had changed significantly.  His once blonde hair was now solidly in the realm of chocolate, while his eyes were a much purer gold with flecks of the rainbow in the right lighting, and his eyes had sharpened some from their former rounded shape.  He had always had the potential to be a handsome man, but now he was actually a rather pretty boy- though he was still taller than Harry.  Anyways, Marius would be going with Dr. Shamal as Reborn and the good doctor were certain that the kid had the potential to pull out the Flames of the Dying Will even though he hadn’t manifested them yet.

Fortunately for Harry’s alibi, but much to his irritation, while he had been missed everyone had just assumed he had simply found a classroom to curl up in for a few days.  There were a few Christmas presents waiting for him on his bed, though the silvery cloak that positively radiated power went in the ‘ill-gotten gains’ bag, as he had no concrete idea who sent the thing, but he wasn’t going to put on something that powerful without proper supervision.

Harry leaned back in his bed, desperately wishing for the New Year to get here, so the damn Wards would just fucking purge already because he couldn’t be productive like this.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Harry was out by the Black Lake even though it was nearing midnight.

It was New Year’s Eve and the Solstice Renewal was about to finish.  The last few days in the castle had been miserable to Harry as he could feel the Solstice energy digging deeper and deeper into the school, winding itself around anything that went against the Tenets laid down by the Founders.  It was like putting peroxide on a wound, all the crap eventually bubbles to the surface.  Unfortunately for Harry, the surface was pretty much every square inch of the school and grounds, even the very air itself.  The only Professors in the castle were Madam Hooch, the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall, Professor Sinstra, and that weird Creature Professor.

Harry was pretty sure that the Headmaster knew something was going on, but he honestly didn’t think that the other had a clue.

(His Papá had told him that Professor Snape was now one of Reborn’s bitches last night, Harry about died of laughter.)

Harry counted down to the New Year, 5-4-3-2-

1.

There was an explosion of magic, light, and noise.

Harry shielded his eyes with his sleeve as he watched, awestruck, as the castle sang.

Her drab grey stone burned and faded to a beautiful matte grey as her Towers grew banners.  Her majestic peaks grew shaper as she twisted and writhed and shook off eight centuries of wear and tear in an instant.

If she was breathtaking before she was magnificent now.

Harry watched as three huge balls of reiki formed in the sky above her blocking out the sky and stars and Hogsmeade in the distance: one was light and bright, one was dark and malevolent, one was drab and unexciting.  Before Harry’s very eyes the Castle’s Wards began to weave the lights together, making them something useful and strong, and then there was a single unending heartbeat where there was toomuchmagicreikiintheraitcantbreathe-

Then everything exploded into s sea of soft light and there were stars and the sky and the lights of Hogsmeade in the distance, and for the first time since he stepped foot on Hogwarts’ grounds Harry Potter felt at peace.

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Watching the Hogwarts Ward Renew had to be one of the single coolest, moving things Harry had ever seen.  The vivid shimmers of colors as the immense network of woven magic washed through the Wards as they shook off centuries of degradation was breathtaking to witness.  The Wards extended further than Harry thought if the colors disappearing off in every direction were any indication, and the boy was incredibly happy that he’d gotten to witness this even if he had been sicker than a dog since the Solstice while he been on Hogwarts grounds.

Then, of course, something had to happen to bring him crashing back down to reality.   Potter luck is what is what called, he’d come to find out later on.

Information.  So much fucking information.  Harry was already sitting down, but he managed to work himself up onto his knees and plant his forehead against the snow-covered ground as tears streamed down his cheeks and his eyes were blown wide with panic and pain.  His hands were clapped uselessly over his ears as his mouth was spilling pleas and threats and whimpers for it to just stop already and itwastoomuchitwasgoingtooverwhelmhim-

Then it cut off abruptly, from a rushing, mighty flood to a gentle trickle.

Harry desperately tried to regulate his breathing as he squeezed his eyes shut, and he absently stopped calling for his Papá.

His robes were soaked through, as it had started snowing and covered him in nearly half an inch of snow by the time he came back to himself, when he finally managed to dredge up the strength to stagger towards the castle and begin to gather the pieces of his shattered mind.

Apparently, at Her inception, Hogwarts’ Wards had been designed to be carried by at least four people, and up to seven.  From what he could gather from the massive infodump, Slytherin and Hufflepuff had taught Ravenclaw just about everything they had learned of the Eastern ways, and Gryffindor had actually- holy fuck.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and swallowed convulsively, no wonder Gryffindor and Slytherin hadn’t gotten along.

Not only did Salazar enjoy the Eastern styles and practices and despise the students he spent time teaching going back to the nonmagical world to be laborers and petty tradesmen when they were so much more, Godric had been a Classic Hard Storm, and had taught his friends about the Flames.  To the surprise of no one, Helga had been a steadfast Sun, and Rowena had been a Rain with a touch of Lightning.

Salazar, however, had been a Hard Cloudy Mist.  Emphasis on the ‘Hard Cloud’ and the ‘Hard Mist’.

And no Sky to tie them together.

No wonder they’d all eventually broken apart.  Salazar and Godric probably never understood why they fought so much when they were comrades in battle.

As was custom, they had been visited by the Vindice, and Godric had been spared the fate of being dragged off to the Vindicare only by route of the bond that the four shared after so many years of working and battling side-by-side, but they were forced to swear to never teach any of their students or children unless the Flames manifested, and no written records were to be kept, as the Vindice were responsible for civilian-born Flame users.

Thus, the true power of the Hogwarts Wards died with them, and all these generations of Headmasters and students had been running off of the contingencies, which had been degrading because no Flame user or Eastern-trained student had come to Hogwarts and found the Heart.  While they wouldn’t have been able to do everything that Harry had done with the Enforced Reincarnation Ritual, cleaning the Heart of Hogwarts would have powered the Wards to a height they hadn’t seen since around three hundred years after the Founders’ deaths, and a Flame user could have done what Harry did and used Flames in the cleanup which had actually helped a great deal, though he couldn’t actually gauge it like he could the magic contribution.

The Ceremony and the other things had pushed the Wards in to Oversurge which had fully unlocked the original protocols, however, and since the Castle had a degree of sentience in Her unrestrained state, she had dumped all this information on Harry as he was the instigator.

Thank everything good and holy that the Founders were geniuses and thought to include measures to protect the poor fool who had such a thing happen to them; and also for them to not being naïve enough to think that there would be a full set of four people when the time came, or he’d be a vegetable right now.  Even accounting for his own Sunny Cloud nature and reiki- magic, whatever- he was officially fucking tired.

At some point during his ruminations, he’d started moving again, and as he absently wondered where all the teachers were, (because the Renewal was anything but subtle), he was bombarded with images of the Third Floor Corridor and the Cerberus being banished to a safe, warded area of the Forbidden Forrest, where the House Elves were setting the animal up a shelter.  The Devil’s Snare shriveling to a sapling and disappearing to the proper Greenhouse, and the rest of the ‘challenges’ simply dissolving into nothing, leaving empty rooms.  The mirror lay in broken pieces, shards of glass scattered carelessly about as the golden feet only remained intact.

Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were looking around in a panic, the former looking incredibly grim.

The almost-whisper that was apparently the school informed him that the Headmaster was checking his ‘control’ over the Wards, and Harry absently thought that he didn’t want to explain anything to the old man, which was met with another almost-whisper of agreement, and then the images of the Headmaster relaxing and beginning to reassure the Professor filled his mind.

Harry hesitantly sent out a ‘thank you’, (he was communicating with a school, weird, but cool), and headed back towards the Tower, he wanted some damn sleep.  He’d sort through the rest of this information later.

Oh, and he need to report this development to Papá.

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It took two weeks for Reborn to adjust his schemes after learning the true extent of the Hogwarts Wards, and another two to get the players into the proper positions.

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Narcissa Malfoy nee’ Black had been fourteen when Bellatrix had dragged her before the Dark Lord as Tribute.

Knowing her options and angry over Andromeda’s abandonment, (you could have taken me with you, Andy!), she had taken the Mark, and subsequently been promised to Lucius Malfoy as his ‘reward’.

It chafed and burned and ached that she would never be able to find love, but Cissa was an adaptable, practice sort with a lethal edge that allowed her to do well in Slytherin and with a sister like Bella, so she held her head high and soldiered on with all the grace that a Lady of her heritage was bred to possess.

Her one regret was that she’d only been able to bear Draco, and not for lack of trying on her part, even though she wasn’t particularly fond of Lucius’ bedroom antics.

When the Mark had flared and changed she’d been terrified, because unlike the others, she’d known what the vow meant.

Then she’d met the man and she felt hope blossom against her will.

This, she thought breathlessly as he killed without remorse but not without cause, this is a man I would follow.

When she had been called for a private audience with her new Lord and just three others, (though one is standing directly beside her Lord and looks vaguely familiar, one she hadn’t seen in forever and a day, and one she was sure didn’t belong), she knew she was on the cusp of something innovative, exhilarating, and wonderful.

“You called for me, Milord?” She murmured demurely, the knowing smirk on her Lord’s lip making her heart beat faster as most took her for a trophy wife, only good for biting conversation and dinner parties.  This man, this being, seemed to see the storm that always seemed to churn in her soul, and nearly she’d forgotten what it felt to feel so alive.

The conversation passes in a blur of incredible information, and she knows her answer before he finishes telling them to think it over.

“Children.” She blurts out, ignoring all the voices in her head that sound like her mother and sisters, because this man is different, “Make Lucius give me children and I will serve in your stead at Hogwarts with my entire being.  For as long as I am able to draw breath, if I must.”

Her Lord stares at her, steady and soul deep for a long moment, before he lets out a short, resounding laugh and makes a hand gesture, causing a man- who appeared to be Italian- to appear, holding a traditional medical bag, with a dark haired child beside him.  “I am sure,” her Lord says warmly, “That Shamal can make that happen for you, my dear.”

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Bartemius ‘Barty’ Crouch Jr hadn’t actually been involved with torturing the Longbottoms.

Barty had been brilliant at academics, and his innovations were used by the Auror Department to this day.

None of it had been enough for his father, though.  His mother, bless her, had been a saint, trapped in her marriage on all sides, but she had been Barty’s sun and moon and stars and he had done his best to shine all the brighter for her, but his father was always doing his best to snuff out his and his mother’s light.

(It was never enough.)

Barty had always had a fascination with light, how it sparkled in his mother’s eyes, how it bounced off glass, how it threaded through water, how it glanced off trees.

It was probably why he had ever listed to a word that Lucius Malfoy said. 

(Lucius meant light and Barty had always been fascinated by light.)

By the time he’d come back to himself he’d been in the middle of being branded, but his Master had at least wanted him, and his mother had smiled, so it wasn’t so bad.  He rather liked making people scream instead of being the one screaming after his father had a bad day at work, and really who cares more about people too stupid to learn a shield charm than their own blood?

Barty had known six different shield charms by the time he started Hogwarts, and wasn’t even from an Old House.

He wasn’t a rapist, and most of his kills were relatively clean unless they needed information, and his Lord even treated him nicely occasionally, (which was more than he could say for his father, who got progressively more violent by the day, and his mother’s charms were getting weaker when he could still see the edges of bruises when he came home.).

Then that night happened and his Lord fell, but Barty stayed steady.

It was almost a week later and Barty had been headed home after a long day when Bella had grabbed him through his Mark and dragged him to her location, (as he was a member of her Squad, she must have used nearly all her magic to do it though, because when he appeared beside her in Longbottom Hall she was in her husband’s arms, so she might have even used the LeStrange brother’s magic as well.  It was incredibly taxing and only she, Malfoy, Rookwood, and a few other could use the spell.).

Before he even knew what was happening he was back at work, in a cell- as a prisoner.

(Never mind that he’d left the building less than a half hour before!)

No one- especially not his father, whose political career had been crushed- had listened

They threw him in Azkaban, with the cold, cold, cold Dementors and the light- the sun- in Barty’s world had flickered and died.

(Then his father brought his mother- his mother!- to take his place.  To die there in that cold, cold prison with no light or warmth or sunshine when he hadn’t even committed the crime.)

The passage of time under the Imperious Curse, especially when under an Invisibility Cloak and kept in a room with only a single door and no windows is difficult to gauge, so when the Mark flared and warped and the curse snapped and shattered and Barty was free, he wasted no time in returning to his Lord’s side.

Only it wasn’t his Lord, not exactly.  But his Mark still resonated, and the dark eyes that peered into his seemed to have a sense of understanding that his old one had never possessed, so when he was asked if he like his name he answered honestly, “I like my first name, even though I share it with that bastard it was the only thing my mother ever like about him.  I don’t like my family name though.”

His new Lord had hummed quietly and then nodded decisively, “Bartholomew, then.  Then you can still be called Barty, as for your last name- well, let me tell you a story.”

Bartholomew Andrew Sinclair had a nice ring to it, Barty decided later, and all he had to do was what he had already sworn to do anyway.

He even got to do what he’d always wanted to do: teach.  And not the stuffy way that he’d been taught, but he was actually being encouraged to show his students how to push the boundaries and take things further.  He’d have monitors for a while since he wasn’t entirely stable; and he’d have read some books and write in a journal for his Lord, but that just proved how amazing his new Lord was because no one had really looked at Barty and thought that he was worth saving before.

(As he lay still beneath the doctor’s hands, the light- the sun- returned to his world, and across the room Reborn smirked in victory.)

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Cassiopeia Black had always been different.

She had never liked to be tied down to a place person or job, though she always like having somewhere to come home to and she positively reveled in the rush of battle- be it words, spells, or melee.

Cassi had never married, she had never found a man who would be content to be hers instead of the other way around, and so she had contented herself with keeping her family safe and sound. 

Or, at least as safe and sound as she could make them. 

She knew exactly where the Blacks had gone wrong, and it started with Arcturus allowing Orion to really believe that he was in love with Walburga, when they all knew that the boy was simply terrified of all the girls outside of the family after that one incident with that Yaxley chit.  Orion going along with all her prejudice only allowed the rest of the family to descend further into madness, eventually making them all think that it was acceptable to be branded by a self-proclaimed bastard lord. 

Phineas had accomplished a great many things but he had been a terrible human being, for while Cassi enjoyed battle she despised doing useless, repetitive things and people following a single leader like a herd of thrice-dammed cattle was definitely something useless and repetitive.  It had set her teeth on edge every time the man had used his legacy to stoke the flames of insanity and fanaticism in the younger generations.

She had fought against Gellert Grindelwald for damn good reasons, and she hadn’t joined Albus Dumbledore for the same damn ones, and nowhere in there was a reason pertaining to something as plebian as ‘blood status’.

That wasn’t to say that Cassi enjoyed the little idiots who ran around screaming about how this was England and how the magical world should be following the Queen’s Law when the laws of the sovereign soil they were walking on had been steeped in magic long before the first ruby had been inlaid into the Crown Jewels.  Cassi didn’t hate them for their blood or less noble status; she despised the mudbloods, half-bloods, and blood traitors for their incessant noise and idiocy.

Cassi was not a follower, but she would follow someone if their values aligned enough with her goals.

Now, with most of the House dead, dying or imprisoned, something was telling her that this man before her held the key to their salvation, and Cassi had always been reckless in the protection of her family.

“You wanted to see me?” She asked sharply, blue-grey eyes taking in this man who called himself by that ridiculous name. 

“Indeed, Madam Black, you see I have come across some information about one Sirius Black which concerns me greatly…”

Cassi hadn’t sworn allegiance or anything so trite, but she had agreed to a stringently binding vow and to abide by the Rules and Regulations set forth by this new so-called lord.

As she left the meeting place, Cassi’s lips tugged upwards into a semblance of a smile, but it was really more of a sharp smirk.  This one she could work with.

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When William Weasley had been called into his bosses’ office, he hadn’t known what to think.

Bill enjoyed his work as a Cursebreaker, even though the idea of grave robbing for a living was kind of a bemusing occupation for a former Prefect and Hogwarts Head Boy to have, in his quiet personal opinion.

It wasn’t really the treasures that he was after, it was the battle rush.

That part when they’re just as far in as they are out and one of them triggers a trap and he falls into that almost-peaceful state of mind where it’s just him and the job and he always, always wins that game and it just doesn’t get any better than that.

The grave robbing part was just kind of an afterthought, really.

Still, working for Gringotts was way better than a stuffy Ministry job or being any closer to his loving, (but rather psychotic and entirely overbearing) mother.

Two days later, he met his new boss and signed the contract, even more bemused by the fact the he was pretty much consorting with the enemy instead of just robbing graves, but at least his boss was understanding enough to give him airtight excuses to be entirely too busy to be badgered into dinner.

Bill is entirely satisfied with life right now, even if he will be closer to his mother for a while.

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On January 1^st Hogwarts and the rest of Britain were abuzz with excited chatter about the sudden upsurge in power that had overtaken the Hogwarts Wards, not to mention the changes to the castle herself had undergone.  However, on January 2^nd Reborn’s Schemes, (and they deserved the capital letters), kicked off and then people had so many things to talk about that headlines were blending together so badly on the front page of the Daily Prophet that you could barely understand them. 

Not to mention all the rooms that had suddenly appeared in the castle overnight- like Ravenclaw’s Planetarium, which had been lost in a massive storm in the fourteenth century or the original study rooms that had been removed by the sixteenth Headmistress or the fact that the stone was now warm to the touch even in the outer halls, so while the walk to classes were chilly they were not bitter.  The courtyard enchantments sprang to life and suddenly the mezzanine was Spring not Winter and the little snack booths that had appeared in the intersections of the major hallways that allowed the students to buy small packets of healthy snacks or a drink for a few Knuts on the way to classes that were a relic of the twentieth Headmaster that had been removed by the twenty-seventh.

It was understandable then, that the news of the tragic accident that claimed the life of Retired Auror Longbottom and his only son and Heir, Neville Longbottom, sort of slipped by the wayside.

At Hogwarts, the teaching Staff was under siege by new Rules and Regulations, and the Disciplinary Committee quickly established itself as the true power of the castle just as all the guests began arriving and the Staff had even more to worry and fuss over and therefore far less time and inclination to disrupt DC operations.

The permanent addition of Lady Narcissa Malfoy, Madam Cassiopeia Black, Bartholomew Sinclair, and William Weasley was enough to make people to lose their collective minds anyways.

For Harry personally, it had taken Blaise Zabini all of a week after the students had returned from the Christmas holidays to corner the young Potter and swear fealty in such an uncharacteristically vulnerable and brash manner that Harry had accepted without much protest.

So, now Harry had a right hand and a left hand, not to mention Kyouya and Tetsu.  Dammit, he wasn’t even a Sky!

So, with more work than he remembered doing when he had inadvertently taken over an entire town with a gang of delinquents and a boy who had a habit of relating to the world around him in Animal Kingdom expressions the months of January, February, and March slipped by in a blur of work, work, and- oh yes, more work.

He was incredibly grateful to Blaise, but for the love of Tolkien he missed Tetsu.

At least he still had Kyou-chan.

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Taking Lady Cissa, Madam Cassi, Barty, Bill, and Blaise down to the Heart of Hogwarts had been an experience.

The Wards worked just fine under the modifications the Founders left, the only true issue was that over time they degraded and would eventually fail, even with recharging through ambient magic.  That was why so many things had been slipping through them in recent years, they just didn’t have the power to communicate clearly or keep things out entirely like they used to because the system was all tacked and sluggish.

Harry was entirely amused by the fact that all of his companions- and he did mean all of them- were acting like a bunch of little kids on a field trip, only to stop and gape at the majestic sight of the true Heart of the school.

“It’s beautiful.” Bill whispered reverently, looking about a half second away from dropping down to his knees in awe or breaking out into joyful song or both.

Scary thought.

“This is the Heart,” Harry explained as they picked their way across the now-clear lake, all the previously dormant symbols, letters, and runes now brightly lit with bursting lights that bounced off the water’s surface teasingly, bathing the cavern in a soft, steady glow.  “It was a mess when I first got here, and almost all the writing was pitch black.  You guys will need to position yourselves there-“ Harry made hand gestures and they took their places, “so that you can take the Wards from me, but I think I might always be connected to them because the Renewal and the Ceremony dug up nearly twice as much power as the Founder planned on the Wards holding at any one time, good thing they had the Oversurge contingencies in place.”

The Oversurge Contingencies were slabs of stone that had been inscribed much like the Heart that were buried all over Hogwarts at varying levels, some worked into the roof, some buried up to a mile and a half underground- all them able to store up excess magic that the school could draw on if ever She was in need.

She had plenty of stores now.

Adding the others was actually a pretty simple process, and while they wouldn’t need to do this again as they would revert back to the Modified Controls for the Headmaster once things settled down, Reborn wanted to make sure that they maintained absolute control over the school in case they ever needed it.

His Papa was so paranoid.  It was usually a good thing though.

“You guys ready to head back?”  He asked after he left them look around for about another half hour.  He had about a thousand and a half things to do, dammit! 

They all turned to look at him and he could swear that they looked like they were about to cry. 

Well, Madam Cassi looked like she was about to bite him to death, actually.

Note to self:  Keep her and Kyouya very, very far apart.  Continents, preferably.

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School ended without much fanfare, and Harry was exceedingly happy to be heading back to Japan.

Blaise would be tagging along in a few weeks and had been warned about being bitten to death, repeatedly.

Madam Zabini had a very lackadaisical view of parenting- though she loved her son fiercely- and she wholeheartedly approved of his pledge to Harry once she had met his father.

She’d known exactly what Reborn was- who he was, even with the disguise.

So, since Blaise had already been practicing his languages at home, (he already spoke Italian, English, Russian, and French), Japanese wasn’t all that difficult to add to his repertoire, really.

The DC girls had really done an excellent job, and they had even managed to sort of coax Granger out of her self-imposed exile and under their wings, and Harry wished them all the best because pointed in the right direction that girl could be a huge asset.  Harry had left them his journal, (after telling Kyouya and Tetsu first, Harry had a sinking suspicion that Tetsu was doing something terribly ominous with all the data he was gathering from the DC: Hogwarts Edition, but Harry was attempting to remain blissfully ignorant for now).

Reborn was tutoring a student- some horse guy- so Harry went straight to Japan, and had barely cleared airport security when he heard-

“Experienced Carnivore, for crowding with herbivores for an entire year, you will be bitten to death.”

Kyou-chan, the little traitor, had been under a Mist illusion but she simply shook it off and flew over to an amused looking Tetsu.

Not that Hikaru, (and damn did it feel good to use that name again), had time to really appreciate that fact, because in the year he’d been gone Kyouya had gotten better.

Hikaru smirked and rolled before twisting out of the way of another strike, Well, he thought as he slipped into a familiar mindset and grinned- wild and bright and fierce at the boy bearing down on him, I haven’t exactly been sitting on my ass.

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Chapter Text

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The fight with Kyouya had been exhilarating, and true to Tetsu’s genius, the area had been swiftly cordoned off the DC so there were no civilian incidentals.

It was after the fight was over, and Hikaru had just managed to pull out a victory over Kyouya- who had bared his teeth up at the other boy, but some of the angry tension that had been sitting rigidly in the younger boy’s shoulders had finally broken and Kyouya’s steel-grey eyes had finally warmed- when Kyouya and Kyou-chan actually met for the first time.

Hikaru had one knee on one side of Kyouya and his other leg in a crouch, with one hand blocking Kyouya’s remain tonfa and the other forearm pressed so tightly under the younger boy’s throat it made him tilt his chin, while his crouched leg pinned the boy’s other arm.  There was the familiar sound of the soft rustle of feathers, then Kyou-chan alighted daintily on one of Hikaru’s shoulders, peering down at the boy beneath him and Kyouya went absolutely still staring at the Snowy Owl in awe and wonder, prompting Hikaru to slowly ease himself into a more comfortable position, so he was simply kneeling over his friend.

There were several long moments where amber eyes stared unblinkingly into steel-grey and the sounds of the airport faded into the background, but eventually Kyou-chan bobbed her head and cooed, which prompted Hikaru to stand, Kyouya scrambling up quickly soon after- still wide eyed and in awe of the beautiful avian- then Kyou-chan startled them both by imperiously hopping over to Kyouya and settling importantly on his shoulder.

“Kyoo.” She said decisively as Kyouya reached up to run gentle fingers through her feathers, apparently he was really good at it because she closed her eyes in owl-bliss and repeated in more of a purr, “Kyoo.”

Hikaru felt momentarily betrayed, and then outstandingly amused as Kyou-chan began to preen Kyouya’s hair.

Apparently he didn’t have Kyou-chan anymore.

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Hikaru lay on his bed in his apartment and breathed in the familiar scents.  It was had been about a week since he’d gotten back and he was still kind of overwhelmed by the sheer relief of being home.

It wasn’t really the place, it was the people.  Asuka-obaa-san and Hinata-san weren’t family really, but they were like cousins, and being able to tend the gardens and greenhouses and help them with Ikebana arrangements or the base parts of them was something he knew he’d missed, but he hadn’t truly appreciated how much until he’d gotten back here and slipped back into his routine, especially with the DC.

Kyouya was still being sort of clingy- that is to say they were sparring even more than usual- but Kyou-chan seemed to be helping more than anything as she had mostly stayed with Kyouya, and Hikaru had made sure that Tetsu had gotten some people to get the security feed from the airport so he could have the video of their first meeting for himself, (he, of course, would share with Tetsu, but he was sure that the wily SIC had his own copy and the airport was now seamlessly missing a good hour of its security footage for that particular terminal).

Harry knew that the next set of schemes back in England had gone into effect by his Papá, as the Dursley family, plus Harry’s illusion and Marge, had gone to pick up Dudley from Smeltings,  but they were ‘carjacked’ and ‘killed’ and then Harry Potter would send in his Writ of Withdrawal to Hogwarts a few days later, claiming the House Perpetuation Clause of the Avalonian Tenets , and disappear into the masses as the Clause allowed an endangered Heir to do when they felt that they were better off disappearing until they could better protect themselves. 

In reality they- the Dursleys, that is- would be dragged before Reborn, who would then lay down a few facts of life before them.  One, they abused a child in their care- specifically his child- and he had evidence to that effect and while he couldn’t kill them outright- as they were technically civilians- they were technically dead and as long as he didn’t break the Geneva Convention, he owned them and the Vindice wouldn’t bother him.  Two, Petunia had agreed to a magical contract when she took Adriano into her house as she did so willingly, albeit grudgingly, and then she didn’t fulfil the terms, so he could set the elder Dursleys up with a new identity and simply take the boy in retribution as Adriano’s advisor.  Three, they could agree to the generous proposal he had set up for them, (which involved all of them being humble and living within their means but working their asses off and Dudley being shaped into a productive human being, but they would be allowed to stay together), and when Adriano came of age he could decide what to do with them.

Harry got a message that once they saw their obituaries in the local newspaper and their houses being taken care of by Reborn’s estate people, it finally began to dawn on the adults that Reborn was serious.

They eventually chose the third option, and apparently Skull was having far too much fun freaking out the elder Dursleys with his hair color, piercings, and eye markings and whipping Dudley into shape.

In the last bit of news from England, Sirius Black had finally been awakened from the healing sleep that Shamal had had him in, and the man had sealed his memories of his time in Azkaban.  It was going to take some work to get Sirius entirely with the program, but Reborn was absolutely certain that he was already mostly there, especially as he was waiting for that special, crucial moment to reveal that Reborn had specifically kept the man responsible for giving away the Potter’s location alive for Sirius to exact justice upon when he was fully sane.

Papá gave it until September, but Madam Cassi said July.

(That was a weird relationship, too.  Apparently there was another boy that Dr. Shamal was tutoring who had a sister who was obsessed with Reborn, but Madam Cassi had been called in to help set the girl straight and now the elder woman was the girl’s hero instead of Papá and Papá was eternally grateful as he didn’t like the girl in a romantic sense but he was fond of her and he also didn’t want her to lose the thing she fixated on to help her keep moving forward.)

Other than that, Hikaru was waiting for Blaise to show up next week, (the boy would be staying with him and they looked similar enough to pass off as being cousins, and people were generally polite enough not to push too deeply, especially with how closely Kyouya had been trailing after him.  Blaise would be hell for people to say, so his name would be ‘Yoichi’ while he was here.  His mother had picked it out as the name could mean ‘bewitching first son’ with the way she had chosen to spell it.  Blaise wouldn’t actually be changing his name; it would just be an option for people to call him by if they couldn’t wrap their tongue around his given name.)

Though Hikaru was not looking forward to all the biting that would be happening once Blaise showered up and Kyouya’s Cloud tendencies surged.

Again.

Hikaru sighed as he thought about going through all that again, but grinned as he raised a hand towards the ceiling, Yeah, it’s good to be home.

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Blaise arrived, and like Harry had predicted there was lots territorial posturing from Kyouya.  Granted, Kyouya’s way of laying claim to Hikaru was by biting him to death or biting Blaise to death, but by the time school let out Blaise and Kyouya had settled enough to where Tetsu and Hikaru could leave them in the same room together for five minutes without coming back to excessive property damage.

Emphasis on the excessive part, Blaise loved to poke all of Kyouya’s buttons.

In between all that, Kyouya was doing his level best to teach Kyou-chan to say things like ‘herbivore’ and ‘bite to death’ and ‘Experienced Carnivore’, and Hikaru didn’t know if it was the fact that she was a Post Owl and therefore had reiki, or if it was a secret of the Hibari clan, but he was rather frightened that Kyouya was going to succeed someday soon if the sounds that she had been making recently were any indication.

Kyouya was also abusing Kyou-chan’s ability to find people, as all they needed was a name and location- which Kyouya always had for her.

Hikaru had actually seen a DC-verified list of Rules for people who wished to present an offering to the ‘Shiroi Tsuki’ at the convenience store the other day, and he had just shook his head and walked away before he thought about it too much, Blaise had laughed himself hoarse all the way back to Asuka-obaa-san’s shop.

Blaise had slid into shop life smoothly, entirely unafraid to get his hands dirty and charming both Asuka-obaa-san and Hinata-san, but to Hikaru who had known the boy for almost a year, it was the happiest he had seen the other teen.  Ikebana was a new concept, as all the Eastern ways were, but Blaise was fascinated by new and interesting things and took to them readily.

Papá had told him that adaptability was a trait that was especially essential for Mists.

So, it was with a calm pace that the school term for Japan finished while the East-Central magical nations were up to their necks in Reborn’s schemes.  With Marius being with Shamal, they were able to talk over the laptop, the other boy might be able to join them next year if things went well, but it would likely take two year to catch him all the way up on the essential education that he had missed.

(Shamal liked to complain about the sausage-fest that his life had become, but the man didn’t drink nearly as obsessively as he used to and Reborn was paying him well.  There was also something to be said about the unique set of challenges that were presented in treating magical patients, for while nonmagical medicines worked just fine on magicals- aside from a few sedatives and anesthesia that had to be synthesized differently- the reverse wasn’t true.  Magical remedies worked on squibs, but the amount of their inherent magic was holding back the consequences of inbreeding or other ailments affected how much the magical remedy could heal them.

Magical herbs and ingredients needed the inherent magic inside a person to catalyze the components that actually made up the ‘cures’, otherwise it was basically just really nasty mineral water.

So, the challenge of treating magicals who had been treated by magically-trained Healers instead of Medical Doctors was exhilarating to Shamal, who was quickly learning the entire Healer’s regimen from Reborn’s bitches so that he could come up with a proper hybrid medical curriculum, as the East did things very differently and so this was new and uncharted territory.

As a side note, Lady Narcissa Malfoy is currently in her fifth month of pregnancy, and all of her social circle are clamoring to know her secret, as Purebloods have been barely able to have a single child for generations, two is above average, and three is incredible- and generally after the Heir is old enough to attend Hogwarts the Lady never has another.  Reborn naturally, had already included this reaction in the overall plot after the woman made her request and he looked at the birth rates, so she is cheerfully getting them to dance to Reborn’s tune in exchange for Shamal’s medical advancements.)

Tanabata comes and Hikaru is delighted to see it, even with the slave driver that Asuka-obaa-chan turns into during this Tanabata season, (apparently he has to make up for being gone last year).  Darting around a quietly giggling Hinata-san while Blaise eggs the insane woman on from the door, Hikaru felt his heart swell stupidly at the sight of Kyouya hopping across a nearby rooftop and Kyou-chan soaring just above him and Tetsu with a nearby group of DC members, looking at a clipboard and giving out directions while scribbling something down.

Yeah, Hikaru thinks as he winks at Hinata-san- who is laughing harder now as Asuka-obaa-san’s voice rises in pitch and tone in the background as Blaise starts to reply in a horribly amused, smug tone- and grabs Blaise and heads for the door as a wad of something collides with the spot his head was just a moment ago, it’s good to be home.

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Kawahira, also known as ‘Checker Face’ and ‘The Man in the Iron Hat’ absolutely loathed magicals.

Actually, it was mostly the backwater, stagnating types that had that grating, inbred sense of vainglorious pride that he actually expended the energy to hate.  What Kawahira meant was that he hated those who had talents who could be used for the betterment of all- even just among their own society, but the rest of the world was important as well- and those whose love of self had been perverted to the point of hatred and contempt for their neighbor- that is to say anyone they saw as ‘beneath’ them.

Which for most of those types, was pretty much everyone.

Magicals also had the highest potential for Flame Activation but the lowest rate.  Some of that was from the legitimate handicap as magic was a meddler, but the few who did Activate usually were terrified of being labeled as ‘Dark’ and ended up suffering from Flame Rejection or they got a swelled head and landed themselves in the Vindicare for being idiots, despite the rules the Vindice laid out for them as the magicals still fell under the old laws but were given the option of the Mafia.

A few had become Arcobaleno over the years, but the sheer loss of potential when Kawahira’s people- the True Earthborn- had given everything-

Kawahira sighed wearily and set his teacup down slowly in direct contrast to his churning thoughts.

Being angry about the past isn’t going to help anything, you know this Kawahira.  Besides, it’ll give you wrinkles, haha!  Sepira’s bright voice rang through his head and Kawahira felt a pang in his chest as he thought about his most recent loss.

Kawahira and Sepira had tried for centuries to have a child after it just became the two of them, but with the Tri-ni-Set barely holding the world together, there just hadn’t been enough natural energy to facilitate the conception of a True Earthborn not matter what they did- though they could have blended children with humans reasonably easily.

Where was he again?

Oh, yes, those types of magicals that he hated.

They weren’t confined to a country or nationality, (as Kawahira cared little for such things), but it was their mindset and culture that made him wish that he could just erase them from history.  Unfortunately, that was against the Administrative Rules, and occasionally they had a gem or two that made the headaches that their occasional epic screw-ups caused him.

Wars fought between humans of the same type were fine, but regular humans finding out about magicals on a large scale in this day and age would eventually disrupt the balance of the Tri-ni-Set with the fallout, so he occasionally had to step in and use his Mist on some humans to make the issue fade quietly.  He didn’t want them to become dependent on this, so he made sure to wait until the last possible second, but he definitely wasn’t helping them, he was doing his job.

When he’d gotten notification a little while ago of a prophecy being spoken about a Flame user to magical, (he kept all of Sepira’s descendants tagged as her gift could pop up unexpectedly after being dormant for a few generations, and Cassandra Trelawney had been one of Sepira’s stronger descendants, so Sybill wasn’t entirely unexpected and magicals tended to actually listen to prophecies), so Kawahira had stepped in and altered the perception of the people who had heard it to keep the Flame aspect of the prophecy secret, as he didn’t trust the audience with that type of information and left.

It wasn’t his fault that their perceptions ended up causing that mess.   If their thoughts hadn’t already been filled with terror and fear and desperation for someone to save them that particular incarnation of the prophecy never would have formed.  (The Prophetess- who wanted to be known as a great Seer like Cassandra- the Headmaster- who wanted this war to end so that the children that he’d educated would stop dying- the boy- who wanted her to forgive him even as he hated her for choosing that bastard-  all their perceptions melded together and that is how the prophecy that controlled Harry Potter’s life and killed his parents and destroyed the Longbottom family came into being.)

Kawahira absolutely loathed magicals.

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August faded to September, and school started.

Hikaru and Blaise were at Nami-chuu, and Hikaru spent a great deal of time writing in his journal to Gemma and Jessica about Hogwarts DC operations.  While Lady Cissa, Madam Cassi, Barty, and Bill were Hikaru’s placeholders for the school Wards, Hikaru was the actual authority, only surpassed by Reborn.  The others were allowed to provide counsel, of course, but Hikaru held the reigns.

It took all of two weeks for it to irritate Kyouya to the point that the younger boy ripped the journal out of Hikaru’s hands, thrust it into Blaise’s chest, while snarling, “He’s your project, Tetsu.  Experienced Carnivore, for thinking like an herbivore, I will bite you to death.”

After that Hikaru just got summarized reports and made big decisions no matter how much he whined.

(Not that he did all that much.  Hikaru realized that he hadn’t napped with Kyouya at all since his return to Japan and made a concentrated effort to not go more than two days without taking a catnap with the younger boy, as it was one of ‘their’ activities.  Kyouya got calmer after that and Tetsu seemed to be excited to have an actual protégé and direct-ish access to his other one, it still terrified Hikaru to think about what Tetsu was doing with all the data he was compiling though.)

Nothing terribly exciting happened over the next couple of months, just all of them learning to work together and talking to Marius over the laptop.

Things definitely didn’t stay quiet, however.

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Contrary to popular belief, Xanxus did not want to be Vongola X, despite all the ridiculous amount of ‘x’ and ‘10’ shit he had going for him. 

Xanxus wanted Federico to be the Vongola Tenth Boss and possibly for Massimo to be the CEDEF Boss with Xanxus himself as the Varia Boss to round things out, but with the decisions that the shitty old man had been making, none of them were going to make it that long.

When he’d found out about his adoption and the circumstances around it, namely his true lineage, it had been convenient- too convenient- but he wasn’t the Varia Boss without good reason and so he chose to use that shitty turn of luck to his advantage as the old man had rats all the way up to the top thanks to Enrico being an uppity piece of shit and picking Guardians based on stupid fucking reasons like politics instead of Flame Purity, Resonance, or skill.

As he stands there looking into his father’s- because this man raised him- eyes as the man uses the Zero Point Breakthrough: First Edition and the ice begins to encase him, he only feels a sort of helpless despair and a desperate rage that is entirely unfamiliar from his normal Wrath as he realizes with a sinking heart that his father has entirely missed the point.  Xanxus knows this technique though, was raised on stories about it, so he suppresses his Flames as deep as he can away from the cold, trying desperately to save some warmth so he can break out later, hopefully in time to at least save one of his brothers- please, please don’t let anything happen to Federico, it would break him- as he realizes that his father never actually knew him at all.

Don’t let me down, trash.

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Superbi Squalo screamed in frustration as yet another training dummy is impaled on his sword arm.

We aren’t making any progress.  Boss is sitting in ice for nothing.  We’re all doing all this shit for nothing.

In the almost-year since the Cradle Affair, as it had been dubbed, nothing had fucking changed and the Varia were hyper aware of the state of disarray that their house was in, but they could do nothing to fix it.  Ottabio walking around as if they didn’t know that he was a slimy little rat was irritating, and watching all of the people that they knew were enemy agents or sympathizers whispering in all the right ears to keep eyes on them and their actions instead of where they needed to be was almost more than Squalo could bear.

And Boss……

They had it all- Intel reports, financials, surveillance- all the proof you could ever need about the scum that Enrico had brought into the Famiglia who were double crossing the Vongola or using their positions to hamper the Famiglia or using their influence to get involved in things that Nono and Ottava had spent their entire tenures digging the Famiglia out of, but Nono wasn’t fucking listening.

Squalo stopped and ran a hand through his hair in frustration, thinking about the situation only pissed him off more and he was the Commander of the Varia at the moment- not the fucking Boss, the Commander- he had to keep his head on straight or he’d fail.

“VOI!  What is it miser midget!  Don’t fucking hover over there and then charge me for it!” he called out irritably to one of the shadows of the training room.

Mammon detached from one of the shadows and floated over to where Squalo was standing, “I have information that I am willing to part with for an unusual currency.”

Squalo’s eyes sharpened and his stance shifted as he considered this information, this was his private set of training rooms, and that meant that the only surveillance was sitting in the next room on a closed network so he could analyze his sessions, but otherwise this was one of the most secure areas of the Varia.  Mammon was allowed here because Squalo often paid him to construct opponents for him to fight with; otherwise it was just Boss and Luss who were allowed without express invitation.

“What sort of currency?” He asked slowly, alternate currency was never a good sign with Mammon.

Mammon hesitated, which only made Squalo more tense and twitchy, but eventually he settles on, “I want you to swear that you will not use this information without cause.”

Squalo did not like that at all, but nodded, “Alright.  Talk, miser midget.”

Mammon told Squalo something insane then; he told Squalo that he had a son- and Squalo was well aware that Mammon was female- with another woman, and that his son was currently in Namimori, Japan, which is where they needed to get an agent inside because there were two groups of trash headed towards Primo’s descendants.

While Squalo and the Varia held no loyalty- or love, respect, or any generally positive emotions- towards the CEDEF leader, Sawada Iemitsu, the line of Sawada Ieyasu were direct decedents of Giotto, the Vongola Primo, just like Nono’s line.  Nono hadn’t been nearly as careful as he thought he’d been about hiding Primo’s other descendants and people got so used to Xanxus having an overwhelming presence that they forgot that he was also an assassin, so the Varia had known about the family in Namimori for years but they hadn’t been concerned about them.

It would serve the CEDEF fucker right to lose his precious civilian wife and kid to assassins because he wouldn’t fucking listen, but the message that the Vongola couldn’t protect their interests- especially high profile ones like Sawada’s family even though CEDEF was technically outside Vongola’s direct control- would be a stain on the Famiglia honor for generations.

There was also the possibility that the brat- he was what sixish or some shit?- was a Sky, and if a rival Famiglia got ahold of the malleable little civilian brat they could mould him to be their little puppet and then use him to come against the Vongola at a later date and challenge the current Boss on the basis of Blood Ties and Vongola would be obligated to at least entertain the challenge, which would be a weakness in and of itself- because if they couldn’t even protect potential heirs-

Fuck.

“Your kid is what, twelve?”

“Hm, he is, but he will be perfectly capable of carrying out this task.”

Squalo gave Mammon a blank look, “You do realize that your kid is basically a civilian and these are nasty special interests groups, right?”

Mammon’s grin was shark-like, and Squalo approved and was terrified in equal measure.

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Hikaru stared blankly at the scene before him.

Kyouya and Blaise were finally bonding.

This was a good thing.  Celebratory, like in a ‘hey let’s all go out to eat or something because something really awesome just happened’ sort of way.

They were bonding over the best way to dispose of assassins.

Not inciting as many fuzzy feelings.  Nope, no sudden feelings of celebration.

Hikaru cut his green eyes to the side and noticed something.

Tetsu was off to the side scribbling madly in a set of notebooks.

At least some things never changed.

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 Reborn was entirely amused that Blaise Zabini was also an Arcobaleno child.

He was not-so-amused that there were assassins in Namimori and that Blaise’s information from Mammon and the information that he had received from Nono were markedly different.  Reborn was even less amused to note that the information from the Arcobaleno allied with the Varia made more sense- especially in a wider point of view as opposed to just Vongola’s side of the story- than Nono’s did, and that without Hikaru or Blaise he never would have been in a situation to put this information side-by-side and notice that fact.

Reborn fingered the yellow pacifier around his neck thoughtfully.  On the one hand, he and Mammon worked well together but didn’t particularly get along, on the other hand Blaise had sworn fealty to Hikaru which meant that even though Blaise had never actually seen Mammon there was a chance that she would find out about Hikaru being his son and it would be better for him to control that information Arcobaleno to Arcobaleno than Vongola ally to Varia member.

Time to talk to Viper Arcobaleno to Arcobaleno, but he would get Fon here to mediate, and possibly Skull to soothe Viper.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Sawada Tsunayoshi looked at the contents of his backpack that had been strewn about the yard he was in and teared up. 

He didn’t understand what had happened, how things had gotten so bad.

(He knew why his bullies had gotten away with this; they had dragged him into a backyard that the DC didn’t patrol.)

That blonde man that Mama always babbled about being his Papá had come last year with the man who asked to be called Nonno or Grandfather, and their visit was all fuzzy in his mind, but he knew that it was around that time that he got all clumsy and stupider.

The kids had even started calling him Dame-Tsuna, though Tsuna always felt vindicated when the people with the gakuran and the red armbands showed up and stepped in to stop them.  His Mama, bless her, was a beautiful woman, but she just wasn’t…..all there.  For all of Mama’s light and warmth and good food their house was horribly empty and some days it seemed the only reason she realized that Tsuna existed was because that man had a part in making him.

Tsuna’s brown eyes filled with more tears as he forced himself to start moving and pick up his scattered papers.  He wanted to be like that- strong and able to help people, and he’d kind of hoped that he’d be able to join those people someday, especially after they saved him from the mean lady last year, but that was back when his grades were still passing and-and-

Tsuna hiccupped and sat back on his bottom as he lifted his tiny hands to his eyes as he finally gave in to the urge to sob.  I don’t wanna be Dame-Tsuna.  He cried as something deep, deep within him seethed at being restrained and caged, I wanna be strong!  I wanna help people!  I wanna be important to somebody just ‘cause I’m me!

There was a soft rustle of cloth and the soft sounds of footsteps, but Tsuna was too far gone to care, so he just kept crying.

There was a soft rustling sound and then a warm hand came to rest gently on his head,  “Hey,” a young but kind voice said, and Tsuna peered out from behind his fist enough to see dark hair, silver glasses, and the brightest green eyes he’d ever seen, “Let’s get you cleaned up, alright kiddo?”

And that is how Sawada Tsunayoshi met Nakamura Hikaru.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Tsuna peered up at the older boy, who was dressed in the Nami-chuu version of the DC uniform and just sort of gaped.

He’s warm, Tsuna thought dizzily as the warmth radiating from the teen’s hand seemed to soothe a soul-deep ache that Tsuna hadn’t realized actually hurt, He’s warm and bright.  Like the sun.

“C’mon, kiddo, up you get.” The corners of the boy’s mouth twitched slightly as Tsuna just sat there in silence.

The boy removed his hand and Tsuna made a keening sound that immediately embarrassed him.  “I-I’m s-sorry!” Tsuna babbled, finally snapping out of his fuzzy state and all but drowning in embarrassment.

The green-eyed teen smirked at him before gesturing to someone off to the side, and then Tsuna was scooped up into warm arms and that sunshine-like warmth started threading through him.

Tsuna knew better than to trust strangers, but he dropped off to sleep before they even left the yard, snuggled peacefully against the teens shoulder as something deep inside him whispered that Tsuna was finally safe.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Hikaru looked down at the tiny boy with the ridiculously fluffy brown hair who was snuggled against his shoulder and sighed as he directed more of his Sun Flames towards the boy.  “Someone has hurt him.” He told Blaise grimly.

Blaise glanced at Hikaru sharply, “You’re sure?”

“Yes, I think they might have been trying to- block? Seal?- hell, I don’t know.  They did something that put a barrier between him and his Flame-“ Hikaru trailed off.

The other started cursing.  Fluently and virulently.

As magicals- and students of the Eastern Method- they were intimately aware of how the spiritual balance affected physical performance.  Not to mention, Blaise had achieved Activation and so he was practicing with Hikaru, Kyouya, and Tetsu in the basic exercises, and he couldn’t imagine being cut off from his Flames once he had found them.

Now all the information they had on one Sawada Tsunayoshi made sense.

His drastic drop in grades, his sharp spike in clumsiness, his inability to focus, his inconsistency- all of those were side effects of such a barrier being in place.

“Who the fuck would do that to a little kid?” Blaise asked in French as they made their way back to Asuka-obaa-san’s shop and Hikaru’s apartment.

“I don’t know,” Hikaru replied in kind, “Maybe they were trying to protect him by not drawing attention to himself?”

Blaise gave Hikaru a flat look, “You’re not that naïve Hikaru.  You know who your father is- what he is- and how he raised you.  Look me in the eye and tell me that this was the best option for that kid.”

Hikaru looked down at the little boy who was still nestled against his shoulder, resting peacefully and even his sense of empathy failed him.

They walked in silence the rest of the way back home.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Tsuna woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling and the low sounds of voices.

It took him a few moments to process these things.

“HIEE!” he screamed as he jolted upwards and looked around wildly for a few moments.

“Good to see you awake!” The teen from earlier said cheerfully, popping into Tsuna’s line of vision and- instantly relaxing him?

“H-hi.” Tsuna said shyly as he nervously twisted his hands in blanket that had been laid over him.

Then he glanced out the window.  Hadn’t it been evening last time he had checked?  “Oh, no!  Mama!” he yelped in alarm as he began to scramble around, only to stop abrupt as a white mass of feathers made itself comfortable on his lap and golden eyes dared him to move any further.

The teen laughed and stroked the owl- was this the Shiroi Tsuki?- fondly, “Thanks, Kyou-chan!  Anyways, kiddo, I called your Mama and told her that I was taking care of you as is my duty as your new DC Mentor!”

Tsuna blinked slowly, looked at the grinning teen, then the owl, then the teen again- and then he just gave up and went back to sleep.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Reborn was angry.

Actually, he wasn’t angry- he was furious.  Enraged.  Incensed. Incandescent with rage.

The fuck was Timoteo doing?

The fuck was Sawada Iemitsu doing was actually more like it- the man’s reasoning behind Tsunayoshi having his Flame sealed was that while it would hurt the boy, he would be able to be a normal civilian.

Tsuna was apparently Iemitsu’s ‘cute little Tuna-Fish’ and was being used as a consolation prize to Iemitsu’s wife in place of Iemitsu himself and as there were still two viable heirs for the Vongola, Timoteo had decided to grant Iemitsu’s ridiculous fucking request,  in order to placate the CEDEF Boss.

What burned Reborn the most is that there had been a time when he would have seen this from a job perspective and probably seen this as an acceptable compromise- the brat would live, after all- but he thinks about someone doing something like that to Adriano, of someone trying to blot out the light in his little Sun’s life just as a means to an end because there was a civilian woman to placate and a man who didn’t want to put in the extra mile-

Reborn takes a deep, long breath and lets it out slowly.

(Reborn respected women, but also recognized anyone orienting a weapon in his direction with the intention of causing him bodily injury or death as an enemy combatant.  Woman and men both can and do use their sexuality as a weapon and Reborn was among the best before his curse.  That being said, he also respects that not everyone is Mafia and that there are both men and woman who do not thrive in bloodshed and fighting.

However, for all that Iemitsu extols her virtues, the reports that Hikaru has given him about Sawada Nana are disturbing.

Reborn has seen this type before- the obsessively nurturing type and the resident ‘neighborhood mom’, but to her own flesh and blood there is a sense of expectation and dismissal, as if there is something broken between them.  The sad part is that Hikaru notes that she is a wonderful mother-figure to just about everyone around her except her son.  It’s not that Reborn doubts that Nana loves Tsunayoshi, it’s that he doubts that she understands why she has so much trouble connecting with him when she connects to everyone around her so much easier, and Tsunayoshi is perceptive enough understand this no matter how hard the woman tries to hide it.

Her ease in connecting with everyone around her, especially the children, also prevents her from getting help in reaching her own child, because saving face is important in any culture.  If things had continued as they had, poor Tsunayoshi would have been entirely isolated from absolutely everyone- and that was somehow better than teaching him to defend himself?)

Reborn takes all of his not-anger and decides to use it as Leon obediently changes form, “Ciaossu, Timoteo.  I want to be put in charge of Federico’s detail.  Yes, I am still tutoring Dino, and no, I am not declaring formal intent, I am going with my instinct and I can handle both, I assure you…..”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Sawada Tsunayoshi grinned as he saw Hikaru-sempai leaning against the wall outside of his classroom, “Hikaru-sempai!” he called excitedly as soon as he had managed to weave his way through the crowds.

Hikaru grinned and reached down to ruffle Tsuna’s hair, “Heya, kiddo.  Let’s get going, Tetsu wants you to help him with some of his paperwork today since I have to cover a patrol for Kyou-kun.”

Tsuna pouted briefly, but quickly hurried to catch up his sempai as he thought back over the past months.

It was rather like a dream, really.

When he had finally woken up for the second time in Hikaru-sempai’s bedroom- and the older teen had stopped teasing him- he had been asked very bluntly if he wanted to know the ugly truth about what was going on with his father and the bad people or if he wanted to continue as he had been up until now.

Tsuna hadn’t even stopped to think about it, “Just because you don’t know that fire burns doesn’t mean it won’t burn you.” He had said reasonably.

Hikaru-sempai had laughed, then called in Yoichi-sempai, Hibari-sempai, and Tetsu-sempai and together they had laid all the facts on the table.  About Giotto and Vongola and moving to Japan and his father and the assassins and the Flames and that his had been sealed, though they weren’t sure why.

Tsuna had cried and Hibari-sempai and Yoichi-sempai had disappeared, but Hikaru-sempai had rubbed his back and let him cry into his shirt and Tetsu-sempai had sat at the desk in the corner after going to retrieve a tray of snacks and things for Tsuna to clean up with.

The truth had hurt, and it had stolen an innocence from him that he’d always taken for granted.

However…….

The assassins that the others had told him about had come not long after Tsuna’s seventh birthday, and while Tetsu-sempai had tried to shield him the assassins- two men and a woman- hadn’t been content with just being defeated and his sempai had been forced to kill them.

Tsuna had looked at the bodies blankly, the sun warm on his back in a mockery of the carnage in front of him as he heard Yoichi-sempai murmuring and then his vision was full of Hikaru-sempai, “They wanted to kill you, kiddo.”  The teen had said seriously, and Tsuna had been able to see the grief and horror in the teen’s eyes, but also the resolve and the conviction, “They would have killed Kyou-kun, Tetsu-kun, and Blaise as well.  That sort of thing will always be unacceptable to me.  We defeated them and they still refused to yield, Tsuna.  Sometimes you have to carry through to show people that you mean business, and I do mean business when I say that I would kill a hundred or a thousand of them before I would let them kill a single one of you, even if I had to rip out my own heart to do so.”

Tsuna had cried then, and Hikaru-sempai had held him.

Later that night Hibari-sempai had shaken him awake, (Tsuna had gone back to his house- and the fact that he was calling his mother’s residence a ‘house’ and his sempai’s apartment ‘home’ should have been a clue), and taken him close to home, on a roof that overlooked the window in Hikaru-sempai’s bathroom.  “Look, Tsunayoshi.” The older boy had said, handing Tsuna a pair of binoculars.

Tsuna had raised the binoculars to his eyes, and very nearly dropped them again.

“Look.” Hibari-sempai had ordered again, firmer.  “This is the true cost of protecting those you love because there are people in this world that not even bright lights like ‘Karu-nii can reach.  Are you still willing to walk such a path Tsunayoshi?”  Hibari-sempai’s grey eyes were dark in the moonlight and it felt like a lifetime of something was weighing on this moment.

Tsuna looked through the binoculars and watched as Hikaru-sempai heaved into the toilet, and the strong, brave teen who had seemed so invincible to him cried.

And suddenly, from deep inside him, Tsuna realized that Hikaru-sempai wasn’t crying because he’d had to kill to protect Tsuna, but because he thought Tsuna would reject him for it.

1.   Something snarled from deep inside Tsuna.  Never would he turn away someone who had done nothing but defend him, even if they had had to go through blood and to do so.

Tsuna had turned and handed the binoculars back to Hibari-sempai, “Will Asuka-obaa-san let me in this late?”

Hibari-sempai’s smirk had been deeply satisfied, “No need, I’ll let you in through the window.”

 (Years later Tsunayoshi would look back and realize that that was the moment that he decided what kind of man that he wanted to be- a man willing to be empathetic and grant mercy to his enemies, but entirely unafraid to end threats to his loved ones if necessary.)

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Hikaru knows that Kyouya is a sneaky little jerk.

Hikaru’s breakdown after the elimination of those assassins had been a long time in coming, and it wasn’t the fact that he had needed to kill them that had caused it, despite what Kyouya had led Tsuna to believe.

The truth was, he’d been too mature and too stressed for too long and it had all just sort of caught up to him at once.

Tsuna crawling into bed with him wasn’t the worst manipulation that he’d ever dealt with, though, so he’d manage.

The brat was ridiculously cuddly.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Now, instead of having only his empty house and his well-meaning but distant mother as his constants: he had Hikaru-sempai- who was like an older brother and a father rolled into one, because Hikaru tended to mimic his own father a lot- and Yoichi-sempai- who was that crazy cousin who would either end up in jail or as a billionaire- and Hibari-sempai –who didn’t seem particularly fond of him most days, but Tsuna saw how Hibari looked at Hikaru-sempai sometimes and Tsuna wouldn’t be really happy with an interloper who he had to share his wonderful brother-father with either- and then there was Tetsu-sempai who was a genius at planning and organizing and could make stone-cold contingency plans but was also one of the kindest people that Tsuna had ever met.  There was also Asuka-obaa-san and Hinata-san, who weren’t really directly involved in Tsuna’s new life, but they were kind to him and they adored Hikaru-sempai and that made them important to Tsuna.

These people- these precious, precious people. 

Tsuna would fight for them, he knows, he would put his all into defending them, because they taught him what it meant to be family.  That family wasn’t always about blood or parents or siblings but sometimes it was hair-ruffles and Aikido forms and snickering quietly about Kyou-chan preening Hibari-sempai’s hair after he bites someone to death before needing to run to avoid the same fate, (and not mentioning the fact that the tonfa come down slightly to the side of his limbs or the force behind the weapons is muted when they connect with him after Hibari-sempai does catch him).

(In most worlds Tsunayoshi is so broken by the time that Reborn arrives Namimori that it takes years for this lesson to take root, and by then his Guardians are set in their ways and those Tsuna always break a little more when they wake up one day and realize what they could have had had they known it was there for the taking.)

The seal holding his Flame wasn’t gone- as Vongola Nono was a powerful Sky for all his faults- but it was weakening as Hikaru-sempai attacked it relentlessly with his Sun Flames.  Unfortunately, the other Flame types wouldn’t help, but at least Hikaru-sempai’s Flame made him feel warm and safe.

Tsuna smiles brightly at Hikaru’s back as they weave through the streets towards Nami-chuu, (where Tetsu-sempai’s office is), and he wonders if he’ll ever manage to be half as bright and brilliant as his sempai.

(Of course he won’t.  He is the Sky, he’ll be the vast expanse of blue for his elements to call home, but he will always, always remember wishing that he could have been the Sun in Hikaru-sempai’s Sky.)

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

In Italy, Massimo is drowned and it is only Reborn’s countermeasures- which he kept entirely to himself much to the irritation of Nono and the outrage of everyone else- that keep Federico from being nothing more than a pile of ash.

Federico looks at the Sun Arcobaleno who is seated across from him, “How did you prepare for that?”

Reborn tips the brim of his fedora down, “There are rats in the Vongola, Federico, and we invited them in.  Xanxus warned me.”

Federico rears back in surprise, his remaining Guardians, (Shamal made sure that the traitors suffered ‘medical complications’), shifting nervously behind him “Tell me everything.” He orders hoarsely, his intuition singing and his heart filled with hope, because maybe-

Maybe there’s still a chance that he’ll get to see one brother for Christmas this year.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

“I refuse.” Hikaru states flatly, ignoring the immediate protests that rise up from around him and from his laptop as he rejects the plan his Papá has spent the last hour detailing. 

“I refuse.” He says again, raising his voice and hardening his tone, “But I offer up an alternative.”

Reborn, who had been staring at his son in apprehensive silence, yells for everyone to shut up and when he is granted silence utters a curt, “Explain.”

Hikaru can feel the stares of Blaise, Kyouya, and Tetsu boring into him and Tsuna is looking at him with wide, betrayed brown eyes on this side of the screen.  On the other side of the screen is Papa, Marius, and Dr. Shamal- who are all expected- but Federico Vongola and his two remaining Guardians, (Fragola and Arancione- Strawberry and Orange, respectively), are also there, along with Superbi Squalo and Mammon of the Varia.

‘The Plan’ is to allow the latest group of idiots who are coming to target the Sawada family to succeed, as this particular group is an extortion type as opposed to an assassin type.  By all their intel they planned to hold Nana and Tsuna in Namimori and then release them once they were paid.  By allowing the breech in security the assemble group would be able to:

A)     Get Federico into the deepest area of the Main House to free his brother from the ice, with Mammon and Dr. Shamal going to leave the most realist-illusion they possibly could construct behind in whatever time they had, depending on how long it took for the ice to melt.

B)      Use Reborn’s connections to Nono to present the Vongola Boss with truth behind the Cradle Affair so that they could move on the information before people realized that Xanxus was missing, which is where the Varia came in as CEDEF would be suitably distracted.

“I won’t agree to leave my little brother’s life in the hands of CEDEF when we’ve been picking up their slack for years.” Hikaru stated firmly.

Reborn’s eyes narrowed, “Adriano, for all his faults and all the issues we are having internally, Sawada Iemitsu and CEDEF are very good at their jobs.”

Hikaru grimaced, “That’s just it Papá, this is one of his blind spots and I’m not willing to risk that.”  Hikaru held up his hands, “But, Dr. Shamal should have Polyjuice Potion, right?  I’ll agree, if I can take his place.”

The went dead silent and then Tsuna freaked out, throwing himself at Hikaru and screaming into his chest as he wrapped his arms around the teen, “No!  No!  They’re after my mom and me!  You can’t!  I won’t let you!”

Hikaru gently peeled Tsuna off of him and knelt down in front of the boy, inadvertently giving the people on the other side a perfect shot of little Tsuna’s crying face and Hikaru’s gently smiling one being neatly framed by the table the laptop was sitting on, “Sometimes, Tsu, as the older brother I’ll have to step in and do things that you’re still a little too young to handle.  Your mom is an adult, for all that she’s a civilian, so she’ll be ok, but you’re not quite ready to roar yet, little lion.”

Tsuna threw his arms around Hikaru and buried his face in the teen’s neck and sobbed, “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me!”

Hikaru’s arms came up to encircle Tsuna and he rubbed soothing circles in the boy’s back, “I won’t get hurt because of you, Tsu, I’ll might get hurt because there are-“

“-herbivores in this world who need to be bitten to death.” Kyouya pronounced flatly, ruining the moment splendidly.

“VOI!  Thanks, brat, I was about to develop some type of shitty cavity or something.  Fucking hell.”

In the end it was decided that Reborn would call Madam Cassi to test how well the potion would work against Sun Flames and the operation would commence in a week.

(Hikaru would never truly understand the impression that that he left on Federico Vongola that day, but Federico Vongola would never forget the dedication to a brother instead of a Sky- family instead of Famiglia, and it would have far-reaching consequences.

Somewhere in beneath the legacy of Sin that his mistaken decision left behind, the impression of Giotto rouses as he feels light reach him, and two halves of the Vongola Sky Ring flicker as Primo feels hope.)

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Madam Cassi blows in four days later and promptly takes over.

Hikaru also remembers why he had the desire to keep her and Kyouya very, very far apart as they size each other up and exchange bloodthirsty smirks.

She brings a small dispenser that will inject the Polyjuice Potion in the proper increments and will charm it to Hikaru’s ankle when the operation begins, and she has also brought a young boy with her who introduces himself as Gokudera Hayato.

Before Hikaru can properly meet the new arrival the enemy decides to move in and the operation begins nearly three days early, Hikaru barely having time to get the dispenser charmed and change into some of Tsuna’s spare clothes and get out into the open before they hit town and the entire plan is ruined.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Reborn is going to shoot him- his stupidly noble, disgustingly brave, irritatingly kindhearted son.

‘The Plan’ started three days early because one of the leaks got greedy and moved up the timetable- but that was fine because Adriano was his, and therefore adaptable and perfect in every conceivable way- which wasn’t an issue except the blasted boy had fought back just enough to ensure that Sawada Nana hadn’t been taken captive.

Oh, she sustained injuries and was in the hospital, but was uncaptured, which was more than he could say for his son.

Fortunately- for his continued chances of survival- Sawada Iemitsu was actually acting as the Young Lion of the Vongola and doing his job properly, so Adriano would be fine.

Reborn refused to accept any other outcome even though the kidnappers had used none of the preplanned safe houses that they had prepped and there were inconsistencies on some of the outbound flights and CEDEF-

No.

Adriano would be found- safe and healthy.

And then Reborn would shoot him.

Reborn took a deep breath as the door opened revealing Vongola Nono, his Guardian and a few others who had been vetted; they stiffened upon seeing the Varia behind him.  “Reborn?”  There was a whole wealth of meaning in that single name.

“We have an infection, Timoteo.  This is going to hurt before it gets better.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Federico grit his teeth as he, Fragola, Mammon, and Shamal made their way through the halls of the Vongola Main House.

Adriano had been kidnapped three days earlier than planned, Sawada Nana hadn’t been taken, and nothing was going according to plan- but Reborn had been insistent that Federico use the distraction that his boy had provided to get to Xanxus out of the Zero Point ice.

Federico hated that they were having to use a child to free one of their own who had been wrongfully imprisoned by his own father, hated that his old man and the CEDEF head had become so jaded and disillusioned that they had developed such huge blind spots in matters of family- to the point where they couldn’t separate Famiglia matters and family matters anymore.

When had that happened?

(Federico knew, of course, but he’d like to think that his father- the man who he admired- wasn’t so petty.

Sawada Iemitsu had started spending summers in Italia when he was about ten, as the Main House had loosely kept track of the branch lines of Sawada Ieyasu, but most of them had died out or hadn’t achieved Flame Activation in generations.  Iemitsu had been Flame Active for nearly a year- and had been kidnapped due to it- before the Main House had realized what had happened, and the boy had been under heavy guard when he’d gone back to Japan to spend time with his civilian mother during the school year.

Massimo and Iemitsu had been the best of friends, with Massimo being somewhat younger than the Young Lion.  That hadn’t really been an issue until Xanxus had been brought into the Family as Xanxus’ habit of being blunt tended to upset Massimo, which earned the youngest son of Timoteo the ire of Iemitsu almost from the get-go, making the two almost instant enemies.  When you add to that fact that Timoteo made a big production of constantly saying that he thought of the Young Lion ‘as a son’ while he was constantly on Xanxus’ ass about everything, not to mention that the man had given Iemitsu the CEDEF nearly decade ago when Xanxus had had to fight tooth and nail to get the Varia- not to mention the Varia Sky Ring-, it was no wonder there was so much bad blood between the two.

So, really, from the moment ten-year-old Sawada Iemitsu had come over from Japan to start taking lessons in the Main House, the cracks had started and personal opinions had begun to influence professional decisions.)

While he had been lost down memory lane, they had arrived, and the Mists had neatly incapacitated the guards and the door, and Federico charged his Flames.

Xanxus is my brother, first and foremost, Federico thought grimly as he forced his will to overpower his father’s, and I don’t care if Father secretly wishes that Xanxus was more like Iemitsu or if Xanxus doesn’t have a drop of Father’s bloodline in him, it’s my job as his big brother to protect him, even if that means protecting him from himself or the rest of our family.

The ice finally melts and Xanxus collapses into Federico’s arms, already trying to fight, new burn scars seared into his skin, fresh and raw and livid in a way that makes Federico need several calming breaths.

“It’s alright, Xan, I’ve got you.” Federico murmurs as the Mist Flames settle over them and he falls back towards the door.

It takes several repetitions, and Federico keeps feeding his Flames into his brother’s cold, (far too cold, did you even think about what you were doing Father?), body as Xanxus snarls and shivers and savages his lip to stifle his whimpers.

Finally, just as the Mists finish putting the decoy in place, Xanxus slits one pained red eye open, “Fede?” he rasps, suspicion rife in his tone and muscles trying to marshal themselves for an attack.

Federico is all but carrying Xanxus through the halls at this point, cloaked in mist Flames, “When you were nine, just after you came here, Father told you that you could learn Gunsmithing if you scored above average on all your tests.  Knowing this, your tutor gave you books with all the wrong information in it and Massimo and Enrico went along with him.  I found out and replaced the books and we laughed at their stupid faces when you passed your tests and were allowed to take the Gunsmithing courses with Old Man Percotti, who helped you with the design for your X-Guns.”

Some of the tension finally bled out of Xanxus’ frame and a grin twitched at his mouth, “Jackass.  You swore you’d never tell.” He grumbled as he slumped further against Federico.

Federico nodded to Fragola, who had signaled that the hall was clear, as they made tracks for the wing that had been appropriated for Federico’s use so they could evacuate.  Reborn had been kind enough to lend on of his son’s properties in England as a place for Xanxus to convalesce, and Federico was once again reminded just how much he owed young Adriano Potter.

“Yeah, well, if you weren’t such a suspicious bastard I wouldn’t have to pull out the big stories.”

Xanxus huffed, but was silent until they got into the car and he was laid across the seat so that Shamal could begin treating him, “Is-“

Federico laid a hand against Xanxus’ shoulder, still pushing his Sky Flames into his cold brother, “Massimo is dead, Xan.  But Reborn got your warning and that’s the only reason I’m alive.  You showed your Quality, Xan.”

Xanxus nodded jerkily and faded into unconsciousness.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Sawada Iemitsu put his head in his hands and clenched his eyes shut as he was on yet another red-eye flight back to Italy in order to keep up appearances.

How had this happened?

His wife was in the hospital, he’d already had his Mist make her think that there had been an accident and that Tsuna was with him in Antarctica, and Tsuna-

Iemitsu swallowed convulsively and ground his palms into his eyes.

His son, the light of his life, his shy, sweet little boy who was all bright smiles and girly shrieks was missing.

Iemitsu breathed deeply, pushing down his utter rage, Damn you, Xanxus, this is all your fault.  He snarled in the privacy of his mind,  First it was the Cradle Affair where you tried to kill the man who was kind enough to take you out of the Slums and away from your lying whore of a mother, then Enrico, then Massimo, now even in ice you come after me.  Nono should have killed you when he-

“I’m sorry, Boss, but we’re here.” Turmeric’s voice was apologetic but firm.

Iemitsu breathed and righted himself, he’d find Tsuna.

He had to.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

The Vongola Nono sat at the center of the table with Federico seated to his right, their Guardians taking up the remaining seats on that side of the conference table. 

Sawada Iemitsu had been seated directly across from the two, allotted a spot on either side or a Guardian, along with all the other Bosses and Allies that had been invited.

When the last guest had entered, the doors were sealed shut by Commander Superbi of the Varia, the tall, fair haired Italian’s predatory grin doing very little to reassure to people he had just sealed inside.

“What is the meaning of this, Nono?” the Cavallone Proxy demanded to know, jowls quivering angrily.

The old man’s face was set in a grim line that most hadn’t seen in decades, “The time has come for me to set aside my personal feelings and desires and put my house in order, and we are going to start with the people in this room.  I’m going to ask questions, and if I don’t like your answers, you’re going to spend a little Quality time with our dear Commander over there.”

The room descended into chaos.

…..for about thirty seconds, until the Varia Officers and their best squads dropped in, then silence reigned.

“Let me explain this a little slower.”  Nono started again as he raked merciless eyes over the assembled, “There is a rampant infection in my house, and I will find eradicate it.  Every.  Last.  Bit.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

To say that Iemitsu was shell-shocked was an understatement.

How had it come to this?

When had dislike of Xanxus turned into automatically discrediting everything the man said?  When did one of Vongola’s own have to stage of fucking coup just to try to be heard?

The Varia had been ruthless in getting their message about his various shortcomings across, and he had heard, oh how he had heard.

Iemitsu punched his gun locker until his knuckles bled, It’s my fault.  If I had listened, Massimo might have lived.  Tsuna might now have been taken at all.  It’s my fault, because I didn’t want anything Xanxus said to have any meaning, so I never listened and I did my best to make sure no one else did either.

Iemitsu pushed everything back, grabbed his coat, and headed for his flight.

Tsuna was still out there, there was one thing that Xanxus hadn’t beaten him at yet.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Hikaru remembered feeling that something was off about his attackers, so he made sure to protect Tsuna’s mother, then he’d been overwhelmed and knocked out.

“-not part of the plan!” a voice was saying nearby as he tried to reach of consciousness, carefully controlling his Flames and reiki and grateful that he had insisted that he take Tsuna’s place despite the obstacle it created in the mission planning stage.

“-said-extra-if the kid had a Sky Flame-“

1.   Hikaru thought as he slowly seeped his reiki out around him.  There are five in the room and another two just at the edge of my range, but beyond a wall or a door or something.

“I dunno, man.  Money is one thing, but this is a Vindicare-level offense, the kid is a civilian!”  Note to self, Voice Three might be a decent-ish human being.

“C’mon, it’s not like they’ll find out who did it, they have to have proof to present to those bandaged bastards, this isn’t a Prime Offense, so they won’t show up personally.”  Voice Two needs to die.

“I’m with Jack, holding out for money is one thing, but selling the kid for trade?”  Voice Five is also up for human-ish consideration.

“You guys need to shut up, we’ll be moving soon and off this damn island.” Voice One is an asshole.

“The whole world runs on money, it is the universal language.”  Wait a minute, Blaise’s Sire says that.  Not going to deal with Voice Four unless they attack me.

Hikaru felt the two by the door/wall move away and Activated the threads in his clothes to be fluid at the same time he killed the injector on the dispenser and used his Sun Flames to burn the Potion out of his body.  Going from Tsuna’s form to his in under a minute was not fun, but Hikaru was moving before the bastards could do more than yelp as he had used his reiki to shatter his bonds.

Voice One went down, and Voice Two was taken out by what Hikaru was fairly certain was Mammon of the Varia, despite the fully grown Italian male appearance the person had going for them.  Voices Three and Five were swiftly knocked out and Mammon and Hikaru faced each other, “Adriano.” Hikaru said, holding a hand out in invitation.

Mammon looked exasperated and amused at the same time, “Viper to you, brat.  CEDEF lost your trail and I was able to find you with my personal technique, but as they refuse to ask for the Varia or my personal aid we had no way of leading them here without arousing suspicion against ourselves.”

Hikaru nodded agreeably, “Thanks.  The other two it for this operation?”

Viper nodded, “Yes, it is fairly small on the ground which makes it harder to track.  My illusions will take care of them.”  Mist Flames covered them and Viper gestured for Hikaru to follow as they made their way through the crappy house he had been being held at, “Until you awoke I was unable to act as it would have aroused suspicion, and it would have been doubly suspicious if a vigilante just happened to come in and kill little Tsunayoshi’s captors and then leave without explanation when CEDEF had done their best to keep their efforts secret as the boy and his mother are supposed to be secret, even though they are on Vongola Sacred Ground.”

Hikaru nodded his head and jogged to keep up, “Where in Japan am I?”

“You’re lucky you woke up today, brat, these idiots were smart and we’ve been island hopping.  Welcome to Kiribati, Adriano.”  Viper’s smirk was eerily reminiscent of Blaise, actually.

Hikaru’s only thought was, “My Papá is going to kill me.”

His companion chuckled darkly, “Even we don’t get reception all the way out here, it drives Verde- one of our fellow Arcobaleno- insane.  His estimate is another five years or so before the tech is able to establish a stable communication grid, but last I heard in Okinawa your Papá was threatening to shoot you.”

The teen’s eyebrows furrowed in thought, “Wait a second, how long was I out?”

“Your idiot kidnappers obviously didn’t know what they were doing when they were dosing you with the sedative, had you actually been Tsunayoshi you would have died, as it is your Sun Flames burned off the excess sedative before it could cause undue harm.”

“Viper, that wasn’t really an answer.”

The Arcobaleno sighed and the illusion melted away to leave a floating, cloaked toddler-sized person in its place, “Adriano, you’ve been missing almost two months.”

Oh God, Hikaru thought in horror, Kyouya’s going to kill me.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Xanxus had known of the existence of the magical world- both the Western and Eastern- as the Boss of the Varia he had a small number of witches and wizards under his command.

However, as he sat on the ornate chair he had appropriated for himself in the dining room-slash-war room, the table in front of him covered in papers and tactical maps, his laptop off to the side, and his phone by his hand, he was truly disgusted by the sheer wasted potential of these people.

Well, at least that Adriano trash and his shitty father were doing something about that shit, maybe he could convince the brat to join the Varia, and Xanxus needed someone fucking competent to lead the WEATHER squad.

The Varia WEATHER squad had been formed during Donna Ottava’s reign,(the banner under the Varia emblem changed every time a new Vongola took office, giving rise to the belief that the Varia was a new organization, which was a bunch of shit because Secondo had created it), when the Donna had gotten sick and tired of losing people under her protection to the magicals’ gross incompetence.  Secrecy was an issue, of course, so the matter had been handed to the Varia Boss by the rather irate, terrifying woman with a clear set of orders of what would happen if the Donna did not see improvements.

The squad members themselves were scattered throughout the other squads of the Varia and only called together by the Boss when needed or performed their duties separately on top of their usual Varia assignments.

One of the biggest obstacles that Boss Messa had faced was that while the magicals cleaned up the ‘obvious’ traces of magic they overlooked the lingering traces of abuse from their brethren once their shitty ‘Statute’ had been upheld, so it would obviously be up to the Mafia to take care of their own. 

It had taken a lot of trial and error, including a nearly catastrophic failure when one of their members had been caught feeding a Potion-laced tea to a squib, (the man was a damn good informant who had endured some sort of shitty curse and just a few drops of the potion kept his head on straight), and had been mind-fucked, their Mist Flames barely holding their mind together long enough to make it back to HQ in time to warn the Boss and help save the Varia’s efforts before dying of Flame Exhaustion.  After that, they had also learned to keep the fact that they could take care of themselves far, far away from the magical governments and vigilantes and had whittled down the number of people who even knew of the existence of the WEATHER squad until it was just the survivors. 

By the time Donna Ottava stepped down, Don Nono hadn’t been told as the Varia were damn good and there hadn’t been any instances to draw attention to the squad’s existence in a very long time, and Xanxus hadn’t found out until he’d finally gotten his hands on the fucking Varia Sky Ring and Donna Ottava had called on him to tell him in person.

However, the Eastern method tended to give their children more options than criminal organizations, so most of the Varia members who came educated from that method tended to decline a place in WEATHER squad and the Western ones who had had their magic sealed or had finished their magical education but were sorely lacking in everything else had to be chosen very carefully as that was a lot of fucking time and effort to be putting in on a hunch.

The point was, this Adriano kid could be an asset if he came from a family who owned or had primary access to a house like this, and even if he wouldn’t join the Varia, the brat probably knew some trash that would, so either way cultivating a decent working relationship was in Xanxus’ best interests.

Even if the fucking trash did consider Iemitsu fucking spawn his little brother.

The air rippled and Mammon stepped out, “The package was recovered successfully, Boss.”

Xanxus’ eyes narrowed at his Mist captain, “What happened?” he growled.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Watching an illusion fly an aircraft while your companion flipped through an investment magazine was a decidedly strange experience.

Hikaru had found out that Xanxus, (that was the Varia Boss and Federico’s younger adopted brother), had been unfrozen successfully and the Varia had cheerfully been kicking the asses of everyone who had been spitting on them over the past few years.  This had cut down on the amount of people attacking the Vongola from the outside as the Varia didn’t exactly inspire feelings of compassion and leniency when they were in work-mode.

(It had also reality-checked quite a few people in the Famiglia who realized all the devastation and damage and loss that had occurred simply because they had refused to listen to one of their own.  Nono was making plans to step down in the next few years and Federico was already taking on duties, his biggest obstacle was actually finding Guardians that he Resonated with.)

Hikaru’s instincts were acting up as the plane touched down and he just knew something bad was about to happen.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Hikaru was going to pay Viper her tiny weight in gold.

That fucking bastard’s grand fucking plan was to erase the last two months of Tsuna’s life from his mind and day that they had a father-son bonding trip to fucking Antarctica.

1.   The.  Actual.  Fuck.

Viper- tiny, cloaked, glorious- Viper had blocked the other Mist from getting inside Hikaru’s head without them noticing, and Tsuna had been dropped off on his mother’s doorstep by a woman named Oregano, patted on the head, and left alone.

“Tsu-kun!” Sawada Nana said cheerfully as she opened the door, “I see you’re back from your trip, come inside and tell Mama all about it!”

“Viper.” Hikaru managed shakily.  “I will pay you-“

“Agreed.” Came the voice that seemed just a touch incredulous as well.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Iemitsu sat on his flight back to Italia, listlessly staring out the window.

(He was a fucking coward.)

Well, he was a good agent.  A good CEDEF Boss-

-and a terrible father.

I’ll take some time off once we’ve gotten back on our feet and things settle down and set things right, he promised himself as the plane took him further away from Japan and Nana and Tsuna.  Tsuna’s still young and his Flame is sealed, so I have plenty of time.  He has Nana and memories of penguins and his goofy dad to fill the blank spot that the last two months would have left, he’ll be fine.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Hikaru’s homecoming had been met with tears, threats, biting, feathers, and a general sense of ‘we’re going to kill you if this happens again-ever’, but he made it through it with a lot of patience and understanding and a few months of an aspirin regimen.

Blaise had also, with great detail and some illusions, regaled him with the story of Gokudera Hayato and Sawada Tsunayoshi.

The two boys hadn’t gotten along at first, but Kyouya had gotten progressively more aggressive as time went by and Tsuna had stepped in between Kyouya and Hayato one day and Tsuna had blown up at Kyouya.

“Stop it!”  Tsuna had yelled desperately to a snarling Kyouya, arms spread wide in front of Gokudera and brown eyes teary, “Please just stop it!  ‘Karu-nii wouldn’t want this!  He’d want us to hold together!  You’re the strongest out of all of us, Kyou-san!  If you turn away from us now we’ll never get strong enough for ‘Karu-nii to stop having to protect us all the time!”

Kyouya had apparently taken the words to heart and thrown the boys into the DC training program, (Tsuna was under an illusion/reiki glamour so he wouldn’t miss any school), and when Hayato had snarled that he didn’t have any reason to listen, Tsuna had just cocked his head to the side and said in a confused voice, “But, you’re Dr. Shamal’s student, and Reborn-san approved of you or Cassi-obaa-san wouldn’t have been allowed to bring you here.”  Tsuna had then smiled brightly at the other boy, “Besides, I like you!  You also kind of remind me of what Tetsu-sempai is to Hibari-sempai and what Yoichi-sempai is to Hikaru-sempai.”

It had taken a few more weeks for Hayato to realize what, exactly, Tsuna had been talking about- Tetsu and Blaise were both Right-Hand Men.

The illusionary memory of Hayato proclaiming his loyalty was both funny and nostalgic because Hikaru knew exactly how terrifying that was to have happen to you.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Back at Hogwarts, the Spring school term was in full swing, and Gemma Farley and Jessica Chambers were making their weekly Deep Inspection and reminiscing on the changes that the school had undergone.

One of the first things that had changed when the Takeover had occurred was that the portraits of the school were redistributed.  Now there were portraits scattered throughout the castle in such a way that a DC member could be notified of an attack within ninety seconds as long as the patrol routes were being observed.  The entire school couldn’t be covered with portraits, and some were more helpful than others, not to mention the challenge the ever-shifting floorplan presented, but the Committee had met these obstacles and triumphed over them within the first year of their existence.

While it wasn’t a bullying-free utopia, the bullies did live with a healthy fear of the Committee, along with an expectation of immediate, exacting justice being meted out regardless of blood status or family name, which gave the victims hope at least.

There were scores of new clubs added as well, and the decorations of the castle were being shuffled around all the time by the Arts Clubs, (as long as they followed Committee Guidelines), not to mention the number of Athletics Clubs, Music Clubs, Academic Clubs to name the main categories, and all of those clubs answered to the Committee.

Then there was the actual Class Schedule of Hogwarts, which had undergone a major overhaul that had gone into effect in September of 1992.  While the old schedule held seven core classes, with five additional options available for Third Years and above, the new schedule was much different.  In deference to the culture but also acknowledging the need for actual math and other important things, the schedule had been shifted, allowing for much better time management, and the additional staff meant that the younger years spent a lot more time with hands on learning than essay writing.

The way it worked was that they had two six-week sets of nonmagical classes per term that were threaded through the seven core classes.  The OWLs were now split between the end of Fourth Year and the end of Fifth Year, as were the parts of the GCSE’s, of which the students were supposed to be able to pass equivalency.  Meaning you didn’t have to know the scientific side of the question as long as you answered the magical equivalent in some subject such as science, but most subjects such as history, mathematics, and English, were universal and therefore no alternatives were given.

Since most of the employment rules had been altered by the Wizengamot during the extreme amount of legislative changes that had occurred over the first few months of the year, and now the GCSE scores factored into the OWL scores, all the idiots who were ignoring the ‘worthless muggle filth’ would have to come back and take the tests in a few years when they wouldn’t be able to find work.

Another thing that had changed were the ‘Mutual Cultural Exchange’ classes, which were mandatory for everybody and the Committee took a great deal of pleasure in enforcing that fact on those who dared to disrupt operations- so by hook or by crook- slowly understanding began to filter into the population at large.

(Reborn had used his Mafia skills to ensure that the school’s backgrounds were flawless, but starting in the Fall of ‘92 the nonmagical families had actual school awards and pictures to hang on their walls to brag to friends and family about.  The Sun Arcobaleno had noted the disturbing lack of cohesion as the children got older, and the incredible strain that the lackluster support that Hogwarts and the Ministry offered the family put on the family unit.  So starting in the Spring of 1993, Avalon Academy in Wales would host its first ever Spring Theatre. 

It was an actual school that Reborn had had built- a dummy school- and the students were all actually Hogwarts students, but Reborn had set the whole thing up so that the families- parents, grandparents, neighbors, annoying cousins- could come and interact like normal.  There was art of all kinds that had been made by the students to be cooed over, and a music program on top of the theatre production, and the teachers had made it a challenge to have the technology students make gadgets that mimicked charms and spells but were nonmagical, and over the years it would grow and the presentations held four times a year would be looked forward to by faculty, students, alumni, families, and the community.

And because Reborn had set up the protocols for the school- and the others like it that he’d had built- the nonmagicals never realized that the school was actually empty most of the year.)

Of course, Gemma and Jessica didn’t know most of this finer details, they were merely going over schedules and awards and who needed what and who was up for what, but changes were imbedding themselves into the fabric Hogwarts and no amount of complaining from the traditionalists or the modernists was going to change that, and both girls were incredibly pleased to be at the epicenter of this particular storm.

Even if the ‘Tetsu’ on the other side of the journal seemed to always be several steps ahead of them and made them feel slightly inadequate sometimes.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Hikaru woke to the sound of a gun cocking, a muted noise, and a burning, stinging sensation in his shoulder.

He tried to roll off his bed but was dumbfounded to open his eyes and see the black eyes of his Papá bearing down on him from where the man was standing on his chest.  “What were you thinking, Adriano?” The man seethed in Italian, and a part of the teen wondered where the others were, as Tsuna stayed over most nights, and it wasn’t unusual to find Hayato curled up with the brown-haired boy or even for Kyouya to be napping on the windowsill in the early morning hours.

Not to mention the ridiculous amount of skulking Blaise had been doing lately.  The teen swore they times his trips to the bathroom.

“Papá, wha-?” The gun came to rest against his chin.

“What were you thinking?  You altered the plan, and without the extra person to contend with we lost track of them completely, I almost lost you!” The man’s childish voice broke and his shadow stretched into something taller as his weight seemed to increase.

Adriano raised a hand to the gun at his chin, unafraid.  His Papá might shoot him with a rubber bullet, and it would hurt like hell, but this man would never simply hurt him just to be cruel.  “I did what I thought was best.  I went with my instinct like you taught me, Papá.  Besides, you found me, didn’t you?”

Reborn growled, the sound strangely mature, “Viper found you!”

Adriano gently nudged the gun aside and gathered his Papá in a loose hug, (he might still need to dodge, after all), “But you called Viper, right?  You didn’t allow your personal feelings to cloud your judgment, and she found me and brought me home.  It takes a strong person to admit their shortcoming, you taught me that, remember?”

The man-turned-toddler took a few deep breaths and wrapped his childish arms around his son as Leon returned to his normal form and scampered up to nip on Adriano’s ear harshly and then settle in the boy’s hair.

“I suppose,” the man said at length, “That you performed as best you could under the circumstances.”

Adriano was not stupid enough to take that bait, thank you very much.

Reborn hummed in approval, “We found out that supposedly the reason behind Sawada’s mind wipe is to protect ‘Tsuna’ from being a target, as he was technically missing from school for two months and Iemitsu did need an explanation for that.  From a tactical standpoint it makes sense, especially since we’ve determined they simply kept you asleep while they bided their time, but from a parental standpoint- well, Iemitsu and I have very different ideas on that, anyways.  It especially complicates things since the mother has been going on about her son being with his father since her release from the hospital after ‘the accident’ and for the boy to need therapy or have severe behavioral changes would cause red flags to be raised.  With his Flame sealed, the Mist should have been able to completely obscure the past half year from ‘Tsuna’s’ mind, but the long-term effects would be……detrimental.”

Adriano grit his teeth and tried to keep his temper under control.

Reborn smirked, “Good, but not good enough.  I brought my useless student over here to Japan so I could tort-train the two of you together for a while.”

Suddenly, his Papá’s words seemed very, very ominous.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Chapter Text

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Dino of the Cavallone Famiglia was not a happy sixteen-year old.

He had been under the instruction of the famed Greatest Hitman Reborn for nearly a year now, and while his skills had increased exponentially, Dino had no desire to be a Mafia boss.

Dino hated the Mafia- he hated the lying and the blood and the corpses that it was built on, he refused to be a part of that legacy.  The Cavallone Famiglia was falling apart, anyways, in a few years it would fade into nothingness, (and Dino would be free), and everyone would be better off for it, no matter what Reborn said.

Over the last few months his training had gone from torturous to agonizing- but there had been a desperate edge to his tutor’s methods that had stilled Dino’s tongue- and Dino certainly couldn’t argue with the results.  Dino hadn’t even complained about being made to keep up with the all the new security measures, assassinations, and political maneuverings that had been happening in rapid succession over the past few months and there had been a mind-boggling number of things to remember, as- according to Reborn- Vongola Nono had basically set the elusive Varia loose on the masses when he’d found rats in the Vongola and it was having far-reaching consequences.

When his tutor had woken him up at ‘Ridiculous O’Clock’ a few mornings ago Dino had merely rolled off his bed, shrieked a little, and followed Reborn’s orders to pack ‘for an extended trip to Japan Pipsqueak-Dino’ as questioning Reborn was never a good thing, especially first thing in the morning.

So, Dino had simply boarded the flight with his luggage and faithful Romario in tow and hoped that maybe everything would blow up while he was gone and Reborn would just give up on the idea of him being a Mafia Boss.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Hikaru lay sprawled on the grass, his Papá resting on his stomach as Hikaru caught his breath from his ‘light morning exercise’, as they waited for Reborn’s student to arrive.  “So, I’m going to be doing some training alongside the Horse-brat you’ve been tutoring?”

Reborn whacked Hikaru over the head with a Flyswatter-Leon, before resettling on his son’s stomach, “Dino- or Bernardino Cavallone- is the son of the Ninth Boss of the Cavallone Famiglia and slated to become the Tenth as the only viable heir.  He is currently bound and determined to not become involved, as he doesn’t want to be a Mafia Boss- or even be involved in the Mafia- but I have faith that he’ll find his conviction soon, as at this point that is about all that he is truly lacking to be a great Boss.”

“Isn’t it kind of wrong to force him to, though?” Hikaru asked curiously.

Reborn gave his son a sidelong glance and hummed, “Let me put it this way, Adriano.  The underworld has always existed, and it will continue to exist so long as humans exist on this Earth. Humans are greedy, selfish creatures at their core and they will go to great lengths to justify their actions to themselves, even if they rest of the world deems them to be monsters- and the winners write history, not the good guys.

It’s not just a matter of guns or advanced weaponry, either- Cain killed Abel with a rock, Adriano.  Men will wage war with sticks if their desire for power burns bright enough, never mind the power of the Dying Will Flames.

There is an entire sub-culture of Flame users, and right now their only recourse is the Mafia.  For generations the Tenets that the current Vindice-Governed Mafia was founded on have been twisted and bent until the haven that the original founders- the Vongola Primo and his allies- envisioned has been all but lost.  The truth is, it’s not fair to Dino- and it’s not fair to someone like you- but you two have the power of change within you, so that future generations might be able to use their Flames for something other than just killing.”

Hikaru dropped into thought, though he had sensed the presence at the edge of the tree line and was inwardly fondly exasperated at his Papá’s penchant for constant manipulation, even when telling the truth, “’Evil triumphs when good men do nothing.’” He quoted matter-of-factly.

“Exactly, Vongola Primo wasn’t out to create a utopia, but Vongola started out as a vigilante group created to oppose the corrupt aristocracy in Italia almost half a millennia ago.  It’s said that the original Vongola Famiglia was made up of a group of people who were gathered by Primo when he traveled the world with his best friend and eventual Storm Guardian, G, in an effort to find out what he was doing with his life, as he didn’t fit in with anything that was expected of him in his homeland.  Primo could have done a great number of things with his life, but for all the tactical mistakes he might have made- the histories are conflicting- Giotto chose to return to Italia and fight.”

Hikaru hummed, “Primo chose to fight even when he didn’t have to, when he had the power to walk away and live quietly.  His work laid the groundwork for the Vongola of today, no matter how twisted it’s become, and since we have the benefit of hindsight we have the chance to change things for the better, but it means getting our hands dirty.  ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’” The teen finished pensively.

Reborn gave his son a proud look, “Exactly, Adriano.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Dino sat behind his tree, reeling from the conversation he’d overheard.

Was this what Reborn had been trying to tell him all these months?

The young Cavallone buried his face in his bent knees and wished that he’d been born as anything other than a Sky.

I’m just Useless-Dino!

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Eventually Dino had gotten up and circled around, tripping and falling on his face just as he came into Hikaru’s sight.

The twelve-year-old grinned slightly at the groaning blonde and hopped up to give the older teen a hand up, “Here,“ Hikaru said in Italian, “Let me help you up.”

The pile of limbs groaned and the lightly tanned skin flushed with embarrassed warmth as the other accepted the offered hand, “Thanks.”

Two palms came into contact and for a single, suspended moment the entire world stopped.

(Just a little to the side Reborn gave the two an absolutely blank look and Leon looked at his partner curiously, entirely unable to understand exactly what Reborn wanted him to shift into.  Somehow a Ten-Ton Leon Gun just didn’t make sense to the little chameleon.)

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

One of the special abilities of a Sky is the ability to achieve True Harmony with their respective Elemental Guardians.

Very rarely, however, does such a thing occur, as not only are Skies rare in their own right, Skies with the Flame Purity needed to forge a bond that deep are even rarer.

True Harmony is a sense of home, of implicit trust and unwavering loyalty and unconditional camaraderie that is pathetically indescribable by any who have not been touched by that soul deep feeling of wholeness that the bond creates.

Very rarely, however, does a Sky comes across their Elements- people whose souls sing the same song as their own, who only need the harmony to tie it altogether and make it magnificent instead of alright.

This is why True Harmony is often prefaced by Resonance- where the Sky sounds a Call and the Element’s Flame sings in response.  This usually occurs during first skin contact and if the Flame Purity is nearly equal, the Wills are compatible, and the Resolve true, True Harmony becomes possible.

Vongola Primo was one of the few Skies in the recorded history of such matters who managed to achieve True Harmony with all six of his Elements, and the Vongola Rings stored this inside them along with the impressions of the Guardians themselves, so that each successive generation were able to feel an echo of that bond, even if they themselves did not achieve True Harmony and the Rings were split between the CEDEF and the Main House, so that the full power was never shown.

(Yet one Guardian fell into Dissonance and still Primo reaches for him through the strands of time, for a Sky could never give up on a True Guardian, no matter the pain they have caused.  And through the generations, the Mist has always had the hardest time finding their footing within the Sky’s domain.)

True Harmony takes years to occur, but the solid foundation is formed over several weeks and the Sky and Element should be in close contact- as the need to challenge each other, to know each other, to push each other forward is strongest then. 

Truthfully, Primo’s Guardians were as successful as they were because Primo’s Intuition filtered down to them when they truly needed it, as is in the nature of True Harmony: balance, where one lacks the other thrives, even if it means ‘borrowing’.

(The less said about the time Giotto grew frustrated with his wife’s bodice and accidentally channeled G’s Storm Flames to Disintegrate the seams and caused his best friend to come barreling into the room in a panic due to feeling Primo draw on his Flames, the better.)

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Therefore Vongola is one of the few Famiglia to know of the phenomena of Resonance and what it prefaces, and this naturally means that Reborn knows of what has just occurred between Dino of the Cavallone and his only son.

Pipsqueak-Dino was going to be glorious by year’s end, or he’d be dead, Reborn decided.

The two idiota were still holding onto each other and looking at each other stupidly, time to fix that issue.  Leon shifted and Reborn loaded rubber bullets into the weapon, “Adriano, Pipsqueak-Dino, run.”

Then the two were getting to know each other as they ran away from a highly annoyed Reborn, choking on laughter and grass intermittently as they tried to stay a few steps ahead of the toddler-sized man.

At some point Kyouya had shown up, approved of the torture Hikaru was enduring, (the little brat!), and decided to help

(Apparently the almost-ten-year-old was still pretty angry about his two month disappearance.)

So then Dino and Hikaru were running from Reborn and his rubber bullets in his Leon-Copter in the air and Kyouya and his tonfa on the ground, and it was nearly lunch before the two tormentors deigned to allow the teens a chance to rest.

By that, Hikaru meant that Kyouya had to go patrol and his Papa finally got bored and decided to let him and Dino go clean up so that they could go over exactly what the hell had had happened earlier.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Romario had been at Dino’s side for almost a decade now.

Originally, a nineteen-year-old Romario had been assigned as the bodyguard of the almost-three-year-old youngest Cavallone heir as a consolation for being rejected as one of Enrico Vongola’s Potential Guardians. 

(There was- or had been- a rather large age disparity between Enrico and Massimo due to all the Mafia issues surrounding the Vietnam conflict in the sixties, not to mention the tensions from the Cold War and the Space Race.  So when Enrico had been sixteen and able to call forth his Flames in ’83, the eldest Vongola pretty much had his pick of Romario’s generations’ worth of Flame users, as Massimo would more than likely choose from the younger generation when his time came, and Enrico had absolutely no issue with flaunting that bit of superiority.)

Romario hadn’t thought much of the blonde baby who tripped and cried a lot, but over time the callous regard most of the staff seemed to hold for the boy made the slightly bitter young man feel a kinship with the young boy.

“Who would want a mediocre Rain user like you?  Isn’t your Dad the Right Hand of the Cavallone Nono?  Che, you’re so useless even your own Famiglia doesn’t want you; you’re too old to be anything to their heirs so they sent you here.  Well, I don’t want leftovers, get out.”

Enrico’s words had rang through his head for months, taunting him with their truth and making him apathetic to the world around him.  The sad fact was that Romario’s father had been the Cavallone Nono’s Right Hand, and all of the heirs were too young-  eleven, nine, and seven, not counting Romario’s charge- for Romario to even consider being able to step in for, as they would most likely find their Guardians in the younger generation.

So, Romario had been stuck.  Too young to be in Nono’s cohort, but too old to be in the Decimo’s peer group.

Over time though, Romario had grown to care for Dino in his own right, not just as bodyguard-to-heir. 

(All the Cavallone children had different mothers, the Boss having decided to take on mistresses- or ‘long-term committed lovers’ instead of marrying.  So while the other heirs interacted at the main Cavallone House and saw the day-to-day Famiglia operations, Dino mostly kept to himself in his mother’s housing as she had died shortly after his first birthday.  This separation from his father and the Cavallone as a whole was how Dino could be the heir to a Mafia Famiglia in Italia and attend Mafia school and still think that he could somehow get away with not being involved with the Mafia.)

The Famiglia had begun sliding downwards into financial slump not long after Romario’s father’s assassination and the death of the eldest heir, and eventually it had just been Romario and Dino in the little house.  Dino had used his mother’s name at school, and very few people actually knew he was in the running for being the Cavallone heir, which helped with the boy’s survival as well.  It had been Romario who had made snacks for Dino and Squalo when they had school projects, and it had been Romario who had brought tea out to the back porch and sat with the blonde in companionable silence when the day had worn down the boy’s normal amount of good cheer.

Eventually, Romario forgot what it was like to not automatically anticipate Dino’s needs.

Then came the day that Romario had dreaded, the day that the Cavallone Nono had passed and the mantle of Decimo had fallen to Dino who very much did not want anything to do with the sinking, rotting ship that was the Cavallone Famiglia.

Reborn had arrived and Dino’s confidence and skills had increased, but the resolve that he needed to take the reins of the Famiglia and make them great had still been missing.

Romario could take care of Dino, but Dino had to want to take care of the Cavallone, and Romario couldn’t really fault the boy for not wanting to, really.

As the months passed and Romario read over the reports from the Cavallone Proxy, his heart sank lower and lower.  The Famiglia had once been outclassed by the Vongola and the Giglio Nero back in the days of Terzo and before, but they had managed to maintain a solid respectable middling-class Famiglia since the Great War had nearly wiped them out and now-

Now it was the end.

The reports that Romario had been reading on the flight over to Japan was like the sound of the final nail being hammered into a coffin, they now had less than a hundred members and they were all staying at the Main Estate.

Watching the Resonance take place with Reborn’s son was amazing, and the explanation from the Arcobaleno had been enlightening.  Seated on the floor just behind Dino and across from Reborn and the young Adriano, Romario had firmly quashed the swell of bitter murmurings that had risen up inside him when he thought about what that meant for him-

(“Who would want a mediocre Rain user like you?  Isn’t your Dad the Right Hand of the Cavallone Nono?  Che, you’re so useless even your own Famiglia doesn’t want you; you’re too old to be anything to their heirs so they sent you here.  Well, I don’t want leftovers, get out.”)

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Green eyes hardened and the young teen surged forward, pulling his Will forward as his Intuition flared, and Hikaru felt his Flames simmering just underneath the surface of his skin as he gently grabbed ahold of the elder Mafioso and his new Sky and pushed.

Romario was there for Dino when no one else was, Hikaru realized as he filtered through the emotions roiling through the older man, He’s kind of like Dino’s best friend, father-figure, and older brother all at once, and I don’t want to get in the way of that.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Romario felt no ill intent and so he didn’t react when the other teen moved towards him and Dino, but then the boy’s hand came into contact with Romario’s skin and something inside the elder man clicked into place.

Oh.

So this is True Harmonization, Romario thought fuzzily as a decade of camaraderie solidified and settled inside his soul. It had always been there, he supposed, but just….out of sight, around a corner he didn’t realize that he needed to turn or behind a painting he didn’t know could be moved.

Romario came out of his daze to the sound of a pained yelp and an offended, “I’m sorry ok!  I just didn’t want to get in the way or anything!  They’re battle-brothers, right?”

“Stop being insufferably noble, Adriano, it makes me want to shoot you.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Hibari Kyouya was currently feeling supremely irritated.

(Ignoring the fact that his annoyance had only peaked after listening in on that conversation with the blonde idiot, the idiot’s sidekick, Hikaru, and Hikaru’s Papá- but Kyouya hadn’t been the only person who had been eavesdropping!)

Nakamura Hikaru is his best friend, his big brother, the very first member of his pack- Hikaru is Kyouya’s conscience, light, and entire world.

Yet-

Kyouya has already had to stand back and let the other go off to that herbivore school without him- Kyouya- at Hikaru’s back, and letting Hikaru go had grated on Kyouya especially once he’d known the things that Hikaru had needed to do when he was there.

(Though the fact that Hikaru had taken over another school was no surprise, obviously his brother was better than any of the herbivores than had been in charge, and the fact that Kyouya and Tetsu had been able to help a little had soothed Kyouya to an extent.)

Then Hikaru had come back with Yoichi, (and the lovely Kyou-chan), but the other boy was a fun sparring partner and seemed to recognize Kyouya’s superiority and the herbivore with the perverted doctor was entirely devoted to Hikaru, which Kyouya approved of, so that was fine as well.

Kyouya liked none of these changes overmuch, (except for Kyou-chan), but he could adjust to them.

Sawada Tsunayoshi was originally a constant source of irritation to Kyouya, but as the younger seemed to recognize that Hikaru was Kyouya’s first, the Hibari supposed that he could deal with the baby carnivore.

Then came that stupid plan and Hikaru had been captured for two months.

One of Kyouya’s pack had been taken from his territory, (he’d stood by and let it happen), and Hikaru had been asleep for two months and they’d almost-

Kyouya breathed out and tried to forcibly relax his muscles.  Hikaru’s alright.  He told himself firmly.  He’s been home for almost three weeks now, he’s safe.  You just spent the morning chasing him and that blonde moron around the forest with the baby.

Kyouya had begun tensing again and he signed and allowed his head to loll forward as he thought about what he’d overheard, Dammit.  I just want-

“Kyouya?”

Kyouya’s head snapped up to meet Hikaru’s concerned green gaze, “What do you want?” Kyouya snapped irritably.

Hikaru’s eyebrows furrowed, “Brat-“

“Why do you keep trying to go places I can’t follow?”

Hikaru was tired and sore and working on information overload after his conversation with his father and Dino, (who had been dragged off by Reborn for ‘training’), so he grabbed Kyouya’s protesting form and wrestled the younger boy into submission on the warm grass, flopping over the boy, “Nap, Kyouya.”

Kyouya snarled something and struggled but Hikaru ignored him, “不變” the older teen murmured, absently feeling Kyouya go still underneath him, “I’m always going to be here Kyouya, you’re always going to be my first friend, my first little brother.  Things are going to get crazy, but we’re always going to be in this crazy life together, little brother.  There’s no getting rid of me now.”

“Hn.  Experienced Carnivore.”  The younger boy replied blandly, but slowly the tense muscles underneath Hikaru relaxed.

Hikaru snorted and rolled off of Kyouya, (it was far too warm to be that close to each other), once he was reasonably certain that the other wouldn’t run away.  “Oh, yay, we’re back to that.” Hikaru deadpanned as he sprawled out in the sunshine.

Kyouya smirked, “Naturally.  You seem to react better to when you feel the need to mother me.”

Hikaru lazily flicked Kyouya in the forehead, “Brat.”  There were a few moments of silence, “Urgh, let’s go find some shade and take a nap.  It’s going to get hot out here in the open.”

Kyouya growled, but allowed the other to manhandle him over to some shade and then waiting for Hikaru to lie down so that he could use the older teen’s abdomen for a pillow.  “Oof.  Sheesh, Kyouya, you have bricks inside of your head or something?” Hikaru grouched.

“Just all the cognitive abilities that you apparently lack in addition to my own, Experienced Carnivore.”

“Seriously, what did I ever do to you.”

A steel-grey eye glared up at Hikaru, “You went to that herbivore school without me, you got kidnapped for two months, and you keep bringing in crowds.”

Sadly, Kyouya’s well-deserved reprimand didn’t quite have the effect that he envisioned, “Yeah, I have been pretty busy, haven’t I Kyouya?”  A hand descended to lay lightly against Kyouya’s dark hair and Hikaru smiled down at the younger boy softly, “Rest with me, little brother, I have to make up for neglecting all my brotherly duties on top of the new training regimen Papá has planned, not to mention business as usual, so I could really use a nap, ne?”

Kyouya tried to not let the stupidly herbivorous grin that wanted to break free show on his face.

(Hikaru needed him, not the other way around.  Take that, horse-herbivore.)

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Ensuring that Hikaru was suitably distracted so that he could properly educate the horse-herbivore had taken some of Tetsu’s expertise and three days, but it had been done.

Now, with the older man and the baby watching from the sidelines and intense honey-colored eyes boring down mercilessly into his own steel-grey ones, Hibari Kyouya grinned in triumph.  “There.” He grunted out sharply white teeth flashing in the mid-afternoon sun, “That resolve right there.  I expect you to use it to make whatever you got ‘Karu-nii great, horse-herbivore.  ‘Karu-nii is mine; he’s a student of Nami-chuu, and a resident of Namimori, Japan.  I expect to never forget that I am only loaning him to you.  Understood, horse-herbivore?”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Dino stared down at the young pre-teen who had been honestly trying to kill him for the past few hours.

The past few days since he had Resonated with Nakamura Hikaru- or Adriano Potter- had been a haze of assuring Romario that he was very much Dino’s Right Hand, coming to terms with his position within the Cavallone Famiglia, being tor-tutored by Reborn with Adriano rather mercilessly, (and barely surviving), and being under the scrutiny of all Adriano’s rather eclectic family members relentlessly.

Dino was tired and frustrated and angry and he wanted nothing more than to open his mouth and spew vitriol at this little brat but yet-

As Dino looked- really looked- down at the young Cloud and listened to what the brat was saying, something new bubbled up inside the young Cavallone Decimo.

This type of devotion, this type of dedication- this is the kind of adoration that Dino wanted from his subordinates.

There was a shift inside of Dino Cavallone, “Well then,” he said with a bright smile and a sharp look in his amber eyes, “I guess I’m just going to have to make the best of the time that you allow me to have him, hm?”

The brat’s grin would be bloodthirsty in a few years, but with the stubborn baby fat that was clinging to his features it was just really fucking adorable.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

“Ahaha!  Thanks for meeting with me!” Dino said nervously to his guests as he stood to greet them.

Hikaru raised an amused eyebrow at the suspicious tonfa-like bruises that his new Sky was sporting and Blaise hummed noncommittally.

They were in a private room in a restaurant- Dino, Romario, Blaise, Hikaru, and Reborn, that is- and they had all been invited by Dino, but no one knew what was going on.

They made small talk for a while, but eventually their food had been ordered and then brought and Dino whipped out a laptop and Reborn lost his temper, “Pipsqueak-Dino-“ he growled menacingly as Leon shifted forms.

“Patience, Reborn.” Dino replied calmly, to the consternation of everyone.

Dino was never that calm in the face of a threat from Reborn!

After a few moments of tinkering, Marius’ face appeared on the screen.  “Hello?  Adriano?  Blaise?”

Dino grinned at all the surprised faces, “All right, so I have a few things I’d like to say.”  Dino closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before opening his eyes and staring at all of them steadily, “As the Cavallone Decimo, I’d like to welcome to the first official meeting of the Cavallone Tenth Generation.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

There was a beat of silence.

“Boss?” Romario breathed incredulously.

(Dino pointedly ignored Reborn’s smugness from the hitman’s corner of the table.)

Dino kept himself centered and pushed forward before he got sidetracked, “I know that not all of you have agreed yet, and I still hate the Mafia, but I’ve learned a lot over the past few days.”  Dino’s smile quirked into something warmer, “I grew up with just Romario mostly, and all the Famiglia that I’d seen left a bad taste in my mouth for the thought of Family.  My own relations with my family weren’t the best either, really.  But being here the past few days, meeting Adriano, getting beat up on by a ten-year-old, being stalked by a couple of seven-year-olds, dealing with the Mist over there being creepy just to scare me, I think I finally understand even if only just a little-“

The blonde took a deep breath, “I can’t promise that I won’t screw up, and most of you are younger than I’d like.  It’s a dark world out there and I won’t do you the disservice of sugarcoating things.  I can’t simply eradicate all the dark spots in the Cavallone Famiglia at once, but I can move towards that goal.  I’m willing to take up the position of Boss, and I don’t think I’ll ever be on the ‘right’ side of the law, but I’m not going to bow down and play by the Mafia’s rules either.  I’m going to drag the Cavallone Famiglia towards the top of the underworld and make this Famiglia a place for change, but it’s going to be anything but easy.”

“Are you with me?”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

While making plans to shatter the earth and break the sky sound good over dinner, the reality is much….less dramatic.

The Cavallone Famiglia, it seemed, had gotten involved with a host of bad fiscal decisions since the end of the Great War.

The Great War had been when they had lost most of their Flame users and had dropped out of the ‘Major Five’ Famiglia in the Underworld.  Currently the ‘Major Five’ were the Vongola (Italy), Giglio Nero (Sicily), Chinese Triads (Mainland Asia), Hotel Moscow (Russia), with the final spot being empty with the Estraneo Famiglia’s fall from grace.

The Cavallone leaders had their work cut out for them, especially as they all agreed that they were going to do this their way.  Naturally, this meant hours of thankless poring over dusty documents in Hikaru’s apartment, and letting Kyouya drag Hikaru to school.

Then Madam Cassi just had to show up and throw a wrench in their not-so-carefully laid plans that June.

(The elderly woman occasionally had bouts of poor health, but if she hadn’t come across Shamal she’d have died already, according to Reborn.  The stern Black lady seemed to be hell bent on repaying her debt, though; no matter how many times Hikaru told her that it wasn’t necessary.)

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

―Azkaban, December 1991―

Cassiopeia Black strode imperiously down the dank corridors of Azkaban Fortress, her lip curling in disgust at the filth around her as the device that she had been provided ensured that the Dementors stayed far, far away from her.  She came to a stop in front of a cell in the high security wing, forcibly tuning out the cries of the other prisoners, including her mad niece Bellatrix who was alternately crowing about ‘her Lord’s return’ and raging about her Mark rejecting her.

Cassi stared into the hazy, shocked eyes of Sirius Black as she unlocked the door and swung it open.  “Get up.” she ordered shortly.

The bedraggled man blinked slowly and swallowed convulsively, “A-aunt Caa-ss?”

The woman nodded sharply, “Get up, Sirius Black.  You have decisions to make.”

“Wha?” the man asked as he staggered towards the door, and Cassi deftly attached the device that she had been provided to his wrist, using her wand to levitate the man ahead of her, tossing the appropriate devices to the prisoners as she passed their cells.

By morning Azkaban would be down over half her prisoners.

(Lord Voldevolonté had no use for weapons that could not be wielded to his satisfaction.  He especially had no use for those who harmed civilians.)

With Lucius ‘entertaining’ the Warden, she met no resistance on her way out.

―Sirius’ Awakening―Spring 1992―

Sirius woke with a start, his body feeling better than it had then it had since- well, ever.

The room he was in was spacious, and the smell of the sea was warm.  Sirius gripped his- silky?- hair and tried to put his thoughts in order.

--Mother screeching about taking the Mark, the torture, barely escaping—

--Reggie’s face that last time they fought against each other—

--James and Lily dead and nononononono not Adriano—

--Traitor-brother-traitor, explosions, screaming-

--Azkaban, waiting, Aunt Cassi—

“Ah, I see you’re awake.” A voice came from beside him.

Startled blue-grey eyes met amused chocolate ones, “I’m Dr. Shamal, I’ve been taking care of you.”

Sirius opened his mouth, “But-“

“Hush, puppy.  You’ll only make yourself look ignorant.” Came Aunt Cassi’s amused drawl.

Some habits die hard, Sirius’ mouth automatically clicked shut.

The man- Dr. Shamal- seemed infinitely amused, “Anyways, we have a lot to catch you up on…..”

“….so basically,” Sirius wheezes out through his incredulous, slightly hysterical laughter later, “Adriano’s father found him with Lily’s bitch of a sister- thanks to you, oh great Doctor of Medicine- and has since been turning the magical world into his bitches.”

Shamal snorted and took a sip of the wine he’d poured at some point, “Yes, basically.”

“Let me just run through this so I am sure that I understand it correctly.” Sirius pressed his own glass to his forehead- it didn’t contain nearly enough alcohol for this conversation, unfortunately, “One of the first things that happened in January of this year was that the governments under the Avalonian Tenets- of which England is one- were declared illegal in closed sessions and the Rite of Conquest.  So, any and all laws save for the ones the Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses ratified under the Tenets were declared invalid.  Then- and this really is my favorite part- the Wizengamot was declared an imposter body and forced to relinquish its ruling authority, am I on track so far?”

“Yes.” Cassi said with a smirk.

“And the Old Bindings were invoked, so those in the Chamber were unable to speak or communicate this fact, so at the end of the January session Reborn was basically the Emperor of Eastern-Central magical Europe.  For the next six months he has made them slog through nearly a millennia of records and laws, forcing the lawmakers to update everything from building charm codes to cauldron bottom thickness standards and restructuring the government on paper and positioning people.  No one is able to speak of this upcoming change, because the rooms that they are allowed to work in are bound with the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter’s magic, along with any other precaution Reborn could think of as well.  Meaning that the public has no idea that anything major has changed, they’ve only seen some of the changes that Reborn had purposefully allowed to trickle through to keep them occupied.”

“Pretty much.”

Sirius grinned, fierce and sharp and brutal, “And when does the major changes go live?”

Cassi’s answering grin made the family resemblance all too clear, “January, the whelps will be trained by then, and the ‘new businesses’ will be ready for operation.”

Shamal nearly snorted wine through his nose, “If by ‘new businesses’ you mean, ‘Reborn’s bitches who will be paying tribute to Reborn’s family line forever and ever because Reborn or Adriano or I came up with the improvements that just happen to be needed by the new laws’, then yes.”

“What about the change in the economy, though?  I mean, people are going to need money, right?”

The elderly Black lady grinned, “The Goblins are quite excited about having the ability to open competitive branches, they weren’t allowed to before, stymied by the prejudice of the Ministry.  Under the Tenets and the alterations that Reborn is allowing- Reborn is Adriano’s proxy, and with Adriano having conquered Voldemort and most of the remaining Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses having sworn fealty to that scoundrel, Reborn essentially has carte blanche to do as he pleases, even if the Bones and the Longbottoms have their own votes and we have ours, Reborn holds eight of the fourteen- the Goblins will be allowed to offer a wider variety of services and branch out into the nonmagical world to better serve the nonmagical families and squibs.  The Goblin Nation as a whole will stand united, but the individual Clans will be allowed to branch out and open their own branches.”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, “I take it they are excited?”

“Bloody excited.”

“That was terrible Aunt Cassi.”

“Seriously Sirius?”

The strangled groan Sirius let out was music to the ears of Cassiopeia Black.

―January ‘93―

Sirius Black strode carelessly into the Chamber and took his seat, idly noting the changes Reborn had had made to the Chamber in preparation of today.

It looks good, Sirius noted, tasteful and elegant, like a something out of an Athenian Greek tale mixed with Arthurian legends, but with all the sharp, dark edges that you’d expect from a room full of politicians and lawmakers.

The new Wizengamot would hold three Tiers.  The Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses held the First Tier irrefutably, the Most Ancient or Most Noble Houses held the Second Tier, and the Elected Seats held the Third Tier.

(In countries where the Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses did not actively attend, the Family Magics had been invoked, and Reborn had made damn sure that the Will of the Family wouldn’t be subverted.)

When Avalon had existed, there had been fourteen ‘Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses’ and fifty-six ‘Most Ancient’ and ‘Most Noble’ Houses, so the ruling body had been seventy members strong, with the ruler of Avalon being the tie-breaker in the event of a tie.

However, with the decline of the magical population, Reborn did not want to tie everything up with solely hereditary or elected seats, as that would be courting disaster.  Towards that end, he had employed researchers, and the members of the Second Tier had been chosen based on heritage, wealth, and accomplishment, allowing for their seats to be hereditary.

The Third Tier would be the Elected Tier, and those twenty-eight seats would be elected to seven year terms, four at a time, preventing the entire tier from being replaced unilaterally.  Reborn knew that he couldn’t control everything and that these people would make their own decisions, but he wanted to give them a fighting chance until the children under Adriano’s Hogwarts grew up and could take over.

(These people weren’t used to thinking for themselves, after all.)

Trials were going to be required to have at least a member of each Tier in attendance, and criminal cases could only take place in this chamber as there wasn’t so much crime in the magical world to require shortcuts.  A lot of people had protested this, but Sirius’ case had been tossed before them and it had been made blatantly clear that if members of the Wizengamot felt that they were unable to commit to their duties, they were more than welcome to resign their seats or appoint proxies.

Most of the grumbles had died down at that, none of them wanted to be known as the noble to bailed on their duty, after all.

The Chief Warlock- soon to be renamed the Presiding Counsel- came in, dressed in his official robes.  Dumbledore blanched when he saw Sirius sitting in his seat, the Black Lord’s Ring glittering on his finger.

Didn’t expect to see me already did you?  No one knew about all the deaths in Azkaban or my removal from there last year.  Idiots.

“Order in the Council!”  Dumbledore’s voice rang through the chamber strongly, “Is there any new business?”

Sirius rose smoothly to his feet.

“Lord Black?”

The grin stretched over his teeth, but it was anything but friendly, “Societas crescit magnus, quando senes implantare arbores nunquam sit in cuius*.”

Magic swelled and nearly two years’ worth of planning came to fruition as the runes and symbols and characters lit on every available surface of the Ministry, snapping Oaths into place and it did so, causing a cascade effect as in other Ministries across Eastern-Central Europe the same trigger phrase was being uttered.

Through it all Sirius Black stood tall, staring into the startled eyes of a man he once thought of a mentor and he smiled, Not your empire anymore, old man.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Hikaru stared blankly at the venerable Black lady for a moment before turning around and beginning to bang his head against his desk, “Kyouya’s going to murder me.” He moaned miserably.

The door downstairs opened, “I’m here for the Experienced Carnivore.”

Asuka-obaa-san’s voice sounded suspiciously amused, “He’s in the study down the hall, Hibari-kun.”

Hikaru felt like he might actually cry.

Cassiopeia Black was cackling like the insane madwoman that she was, Hikaru hoped she choked.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

*”A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they will never sit in.” (It’s a Greek Proverb.)

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

The door slammed open and there stood Kyouya in all his ten-year-old glory, Kyou-chan perched imperiously on his shoulder.  “Experienced Carnivore.”

Hikaru groaned from his prone position on the desk and pointed to the hysterically cackling Black woman, “Her.  Fault.”

Kyouya turned and looked at the elderly Black lady, having met her briefly before Hikaru’s misadventure, but not really having been properly introduced, “Hibari Kyouya.”

The woman righted herself and fierce blue-grey eyes raked over Kyouya’s form, “Black, Cassiopeia, you may call me Cassi.”

This woman was a Carnivore.   Kyouya approved. “Cassi-obaa-san.”

Hikaru whimpered. 

Cassiopeia resumed her cackling.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

They had been using Hikaru’s apartment for the Cavallone research because it was the only building that was secure enough to hold the files at the time that they started, and then they were honestly too busy to try to secure a new building and move all their stuff.

However, with Hikaru and Blaise living there already, and Tsuna and Hayato pretty much living there as well, (Tsuna had gotten to the point where he went home for dinner every other day and that was about it, his mother didn’t seem to mind), not to mention the addition of Romario and Dino- since they spent so much time working paying for the hotel had been a wasted expense- and the small amount of space that Reborn took up, the apartment was beyond overcrowded, even though Asuka-obaa-san had let them sprawl out far beyond the actual boundaries.

The news that Madam Cassi had more people to bring to Japan, (on top of the fifteen she had stashed somewhere in Tokyo already), did not a happy Hikaru make.

“Hn.”  Was Kyouya’s response to the news once everyone had gathered.

(Hikaru was still waiting for the explosion. )

“So basically,” Romario said, “We have people who refuse to do anything else with their life other than be in the service of Lord Potter, which is Adriano, and so you brought them here to Japan.”

Madam Cassi nodded sharply, “These people aren’t like young Marius or Blaise, who are fully Oath Sworn to Adriano, but they are still Oath Sworn and Adriano has a duty to them.  Naturally I chose to bring them here, as I didn’t think that he would want to be away any more than he had to, at least for now.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Kyouya responded flatly, making Hikaru huff in amused exasperation.

“Still,” Hikaru said, running a hand through his hair in frustration, “They are going to stand out here, especially in Namimori.  We need someplace else for them to gather, as more will be graduating.”

“Indeed.” Reborn muttered as his thoughts raced, these people were from Hogwarts, students from the DC who had graduated and still held a deep distrust of the government and wanted to work for Harry directly.

“These are recently-graduated students, right?” Dino asked.

“Huh?  Oh, yeah.”

“What about Italy?”  Dino saw the looks and rushed to explain, “I mean not the Mafia- well, not right away- but Italy uses the Eastern Method, right?  You could have them do some basic intel gathering for us and put them through school so that they would have a real chance to do what they wanted, and then just sort of see how it goes from there?”

Hikaru grinned, “That’s a great idea!”

(Reborn grinned too, but he saw the darker implications, and he knew that Madam Cassi did too.  If those kids didn’t already adore Adriano, they would be absolutely devoted in a few years’ time.)

After that it devolved into a brainstorming session of where to buy a house in Italy to Ward the hell out of so that they could house everyone while still conducting business, but still be situated in Cavallone territory, or at least territory that the Famiglia hadn’t lost.

After hours of pouring over maps of Italy marked with the latest underground lines, and going over the intel that Reborn had provided, however, it was decided that they would take advantage of the recent Vongola housecleaning and push the Boerio Famiglia out of Aosta, Assisi, and Messina, giving them strategic positions in northern, central, and southern Italy.

(The fact that the Boerio Famiglia were drug traffickers who were dipping into human trafficking had nothing to do with their decision.  Honestly.  It was coincidence.)

This led them to the issue of how they were going to go after a gang of five hundred or so members who had no qualms about selling people like cattle, let alone shooting them.

“Hn.  Herbivores.  Bite them to death.”

“You could take the DC helicopters.” Tetsu offered helpfully.

Hikaru’s head met the desk, “Tetsu,” Hikaru’s voice was strained, “You’re eleven.  When the hell did we get helicopters?!”

“Some of the students from the original DC opted to go to vocational school instead of high school, or graduated from high school and then went to vocational school.  I had to have something for them to do.  Some of them wanted to fly, some of them wanted to be mechanics, so we bought parts and whatnot, and now we have a fully serviceable hangar and six operable helicopters.”

Hikaru groaned.  “You scare me a little, Tetsu.”

Romario was looking at Tetsu speculatively, “That was excellent planning.”

Tetsu fairly preened, “Thank you.  Our first college graduates graduate next year, I have many plans for them.”

A green eye peeked up at Tetsu, “You know they joined a gang of delinquents back in middle school, we shouldn’t hold that over their head forever.”

Kyouya scoffed, “The herbivores make noise when we try to get rid of them.”

Hikaru groaned and got up, “Whatever, I’m going to get some sleep, and maybe when I wake up things will make sense again.”

Why was everything today being so weird?

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Romario leaned on the bedroom doorway and tried not to grin too loudly.

Hikaru was sprawled out on his back on his twin-sized bed, his dark hair a halo around his lightly tanned skin.  Tsuna was curled up against Hikaru’s left side, fluffy brown hair wild even in his sleep with his tiny hands fisted in Hikaru’s sleep shirt, while Hayato had probably started on Hikaru’s left side but was now sprawled across the older boy’s chest, silvery hair nearly tickling Hikaru’s nose and nose inches from Tsuna’s own.  Blaise had apparently invited himself along, and was sprawled on the edge, to the free side of Tsuna, while on the window side was none other than Hibari Kyouya, laying curled on his stomach, but with his face tilted towards Hikaru.

Dino and Tetsu had apparently decided that futons were the way to go, and those two were on the floor, but still close enough to be a part of the scene.

If he thought he could get away with it, Romario would take a damn picture.

“Something else, aren’t they?” Madam Cassi murmured from the side, whipping out her wand- that had been a revelation for Romario- and making a camera appear before she began quietly snapping pictures.

“They’re just kids.  They’re shouldering so much.” He murmured back to her.

“Hmm.  Sometimes it takes the young to fix the mistakes of the older generation.  They still need us, of course, but we need them as well.  Don’t be so caught up on age, boy, and live in the now.” The venerable lady advised as she stashed the camera away and patted his arm before turning around to walk away.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

It took them a further two weeks to finish planning the Aosta, Assisi, and Messina raids, (conveniently giving Hikaru and Yoichi just enough time to take their term exams early), and there had been many, many threats passed around when the two had boarded the flight to Italy with Romario and Dino.

(Well, mostly it had been Kyouya threatening Dino with Kyou-chan sitting on Kyouya’s shoulder and staring intimidatingly, while Hikaru had said his goodbyes to the others.)

Tsuna’s eyes had been teary, “You’ll come back, right Hikaru-sempai?”

Hikaru had smiled gently and ruffled Tsuna and Hayato’s hair, (the latter had his arms crossed and was staring off into the distance as if he couldn’t care less, but he was still a little too young to keep his body language from giving him away), “I promise.  You have to keep Kyouya from doing anything crazy, alright?”

Tsuna sniffled miserably, “I-I’ll try.”

The older teen huffed and pulled them both into a hug, (ignoring Tsuna’s flailing and Hayato’s half-hearted protests with practiced ease), before he moved on to Tetsu, “Everything set?”

“Yes.  The plane is scheduled to take you straight to Italy where you will be met by Dino-san’s men, Romario-san confirmed the time with them this morning.”

Harry smiled and clapped the boy on the shoulder, “I don’t know what we’d do without you, Tetsu.  Thanks.”

Tetsu’s lips curled up in a pleased smirk, “You’re welcome, Hikaru-sempai.  Come back safe.”

Hikaru opened his mouth to respond but-

“-he will or he will be bitten to death for disturbing the peace of Namimori.” Kyouya cut in, apparently having threatened Dino sufficiently, judging by the smirk on his face and the fondly exasperated look on Dino’s.

“Isn’t Namimori quieter when I’m not here?” Hikaru wondered out loud.

Kyouya’s lips thinned and his tonfa fluidly slipped into his hand and buried itself Hikaru’s gut in a blink of an eye- Ooof.  The hell, Kyouya!-  “You are expected back for the last week of summer, and if not that then for school, before you are considered late, Experienced Carnivore.”

Hikaru rubbed his sore abdomen and noted the tension practically radiating from Kyouya’s frame; apparently his flippant comment had really set the younger boy off.  “Naturally.”  Then, just because he was the older brother, Hikaru reached out lightning-quick and wrapped Kyouya in a hug, letting the other go and dancing out of reach before the younger could retaliate.  “See you then!”  He chirped brightly as he ran off towards the plane, Blaise cackling beside him.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

While the raids in Aosta, Assisi, and Messina would yield properties for Hikaru’s people and Dino’s people to mingle and share intel and what-have-you at, Hikaru still needed strictly magical properties that could be used until they could figure out a way to blend Flame and magic together in such a way that they could coexist in the same houses without breaking Omertá or the Statue in such a way that would bring everything down around their ears.

(They were skirting both with clever wordplay at the moment, but it would only stretch so far.)

Towards that end, Hikaru had actually contacted the Mediterranean Magical Authority and legally purchased a few Old Blood Estates that resided in their Authority, despite their repeated cautions against the action.

The issue was, while they could get general locations and rough estimate of the sizes of the properties, the Estates themselves were sealed with Old Magics due to the family dying off or something of the like, and they only went up for sale after they lay dormant for seven hundred years without contest.  Normally no one bothered with such things, not even Gringotts, as the work to get into such places was intricate and painstaking and usually yielded little reward for such toil.

However, Hikaru had the Family Magic of several Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses at his beck and call, not to mention brilliant minds such as William Weasley and Barty Sinclair, (the former who was desperate to escape his mother for the summer and the latter who was an adventure nut to the extreme), and most importantly nearly twenty-five people that he needed to keep busy for the summer.  So he had deputized William and Madam Cassi, (Call me Bill, Adriano, please.  Don’t think that I’m going to miss out on this, brat!), and sent them off shortly after Madam Cassi had confirmed the sales had gone through.

Of course, because nothing in Hikaru’s life ever goes exactly to plan, Fon had gotten wind of things from Reborn and had informed Kyouya’s uncle during one of their infrequent-but-not-unheard of teas of the upcoming expeditions into the closed Estates.  The Hibari Clan Head, sensing an opportunity, had cheerfully dumped nearly fifty fully trained Eastern reiki users between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five onto Hikaru and told the teen, via Fon, that he was responsible for them for the next two years.

So, now Madam Cassi and Fon had met and Hikaru wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about that, honestly.  Well, it was more to the fact that Madam Cassi and Fon had met and had access to his Papá with a small army at their beck and call that worried him.

(Apparently the Shrine Master who had provided the Ceremony for Hikaru back in ’91 was actually Shrine Master for the Hibari Clan as a whole and therefore was over all of the Shrines in the Hibari Clan’s Authority and the man had recently been complaining to the Clan Head about having a surplus of fully trained apprentices who were itching to get out and see the world, but lacked a real reason to do so and were reluctant to leave their respective Masters behind, despite the Shrines having plenty of help.

Let it not be said that the Hibari Clan were anything less than lightning-quick on the uptake.)

The Estates that Hikaru had purchased were going to be interesting if they held anything of value beyond their wards and land.  There was the Raptis Estate, with confirmed properties in Sicily, Greece and Crete, thought to have its roots back to Ancient Greece and have some relation to the tailoring profession.  Then there was the Lavigne Estate, which had properties confirmed in France, Switzerland, Spain, and Italy- with tentative ones on Corsica and Malta, and one obscured at sea- the name was thought to be French in origin and related to vineyards.  The final Estate was the Velius Estate, and all of its properties were in mainland Italy, the name being thought to be Roman- or Latin- in origin and related to being concealed.

(Hikaru had been surprised that there had been so many properties still standing despite the low magical population of the region, but apparently the manors that had actually survived the Inquisitions and the Crusades were pretty much self-sustaining behemoths even when the families died out, but they were just sitting empty because no one was interested in unravelling their fearsome protections.

Apparently no one else had a father who shadow ruled entire continents, creating a surplus workforce.)

The entire assembly of nearly eighty people had been outfitted quite efficiently by Tetsu’s protégé, Eddie Carmichael, (who had just finished his Fifth Year and due to his test scores and the new laws was permitted to use his wand unrestricted and hold employment), and they were going after the property of the Lavigne Estate that was thought to be about forty nautical miles straight out of Livorno. 

By the nonmagical maps the area was just the Ligurian Sea, but their investigation, (the group had been posing as tourists, fortunately it was summer and Livorno was a popular enough destination for the group to blend in fairly easily), yielded information that between the Isola de Gorgona, (the island being an agricultural penal colony since 1869, after the unification of Italy in 1861 caused the ownership of the island to shift), and the coast there were many conflicting, superstitious stories about that particular stretch of water, which would make sense if there were Old Blood Wards active.

(Not that the nineteen nautical miles between Livorno and the Isola de Gorgona were to be traversed without the expressed permission of the Ministero della Giustizia , but Hikaru’s people had no interest in disturbing the penal colony.)

Hikaru had last heard from them nearly ten days ago, when they had set sail and they would probably be out of contact until someone made it back to the mainland, due to lack of technology and the magical interference preventing long-range magical communication.  Fon was a Flame user, but even the Flame tech wouldn’t work without supporting relays in place.

“Heavy thoughts?” Dino asked from beside him when he sighed, causing Romario to glance up at them from where the older man was reading reports across from them, and Blaise to look up from his book, (or whatever he was actually doing, Hikaru usually didn’t ask).

Hikaru grinned at Dino and Romario wryly, “Not really, just wondering how the magicals are doing traipsing around in uncharted territories.”

Romario snorted, “Knowing Madam Cassi, she’s having the time of her life.”

Dino laughed brightly, “Yeah, heck of a lady, that one.”

“She’s like, Kyouya in lady form.”

“Oh my-Vongola Primo Adriano!  You can’t just say shit like that!” Dino yelped as the sixteen-year-old snorted the sip of water that he’d just taken through his nose.

Adriano grinned unrepentantly, “This is why I’m amazing.”

Dino coughed and tried to blink the tears out of his eyes, “Hell, Adriano.  Shut up.”

Romario just laughed at the duo and went back to his paperwork; Blaise’s grin was suspicious, however.

Hikaru suspected that his comment would come back to haunt him, somehow.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

In the Ligurian Sea, the Palmaria glided through the waters obediently according to her Captain’s will.  The Palmaria was a decommissioned Cassiopeia-class Patrol vessel, being captained by the son of an old acquaintance of the Madam Cassi: Argilio Giacomazzi, Marina Militare, Ammiraglio di Divisione, pensionato. 

(Argilio Giacomazzi- or Comazzi- was a man in his late forties, about six feet tall, his chocolate brown hair greying at the temples, sky blue eyes, and his olive skin tanned from all the time he spent in the sun.  His career in the Marina Militare had been cut short less than five years ago when his patrol had run afoul of some Libyan pirates, his patrol ship poorly equipped to deal with the situation.   Through tenacity, will, and ingenuity they had managed to thwart the attack, and he had managed to keep his ship patched together and afloat until backup had arrived. 

Unfortunately the Libyans had been backed by some warlords out of Somalia and had employed the same tactics as their progenitors, and Comazzi had been badly injured during an early skirmish when they had tried to board.  By the time all his crew had been taken care of and Comazzi had finally consented to being seen the injury had been too old to be healed to the point where he could continue to meet the physical requirements his position demanded, and so he had been allowed to retire as he had enough years of service to qualify, though he’d been promoted for his exemplary conduct.

With no family left that he still talked to and the sea being the only place he felt at home, he had managed to buy the ship that he had ended his career on when the Marina Militare had decided to scrap her.  It had taken most of his savings to buy the Palmaria, but the true cost was the absolute loss of direction the absence of Marina Militare created in his life.)

The vessel hadn’t more than essentially sea worthy a month as all of the tech had been reclaimed by the Marina Militare and Comazzi hadn’t put more than the basic navigational systems in since, but with the resources at Madam Cassi’s disposal and Captain Comazzi’s willingness to overlook strange occurrences, (much like his father, that one), that issue had been quickly rectified. 

The biggest obstacle had been the fact that Captain Comazzi was obviously nonmagical and some of the modifications that were needed to even find the Estate property were definitely magical, but Madam Cassi skirted that issue neatly by producing a contract that the man hadn’t batted an eye at signing. 

After that, it had been a mad rush of work to get everything ready for the expedition.

The Palmaria was nearly eighty meters when measured along the waterline and with the modifications that had been made she could now comfortably hold the nearly eighty members and their supplies.  The vessel originally had been made to hold six officers and fifty-four enlisted with a rather measly thirty-five day endurance, she now boasted three new internal levels- not including the very-much-reinforced-and-improved orlop deck- in addition to her original ones, which had been expanded and improved as well.

It wasn’t as if their eighty-meter ship was a floating luxury continent or something ridiculous, as space could only be expanded so far before it failed, but there were definite advantages to expanding space that had been made entirely by nonmagical means as none of the components had been touched by charms or spells prior to Madam Cassi’s arrival, which had allowed the group to maximize the potential offered to them.  The ship project had also allowed the two groups to mingle, breaking the ice and giving the young adults a reason to start to share ideas and brainstorm together, which would only assist in their upcoming expedition.

The main deck had been converted, the inner portion that wasn’t dedicated to navigation or functionality was more like an outdoor café, while the outer edges were mostly open and secured according to Captain Comazzi’s procedures.  The lower decks were comfortable enough that most of Madam Cassi and Fon’s ‘group building’ activities were taking place there, and all of them had duties to attend to, but there was still time for the young adults to mingle on their own.

While the ferry ride to the Isola de Gorgona only took about an hour and a half, trying to find a hidden property in open waters while also making sure to steer clear of the penal colony and ensuring that they stayed far enough away from Corsica to not attract undue attention was annoying, although the Captain seemed to be enjoying teaching his new minions how to properly operate the ship’s controls.

(They’d had to rig the controls to either work on magic or be done the old-fashioned way as too much magic tended to destroy the small amount of navigational tech that they had on board, and the new magical tech that had been in development for the past few years wasn’t entirely ready for production just yet.)

“Ah, Madam Cassi!  Thank you for coming!”  Captain Comazzi greeted the stern woman as she entered the bridge, “I see you brought Master Fon with you as well, good.”

“Captain.”  They greeted, Madam Cassi being privately amused by the amount of enthusiasm the man was displaying.

“By the information that you provided me and what I’ve observed, the interference usually occurs in approximately this area and the ships get blow off-course by a few degrees before righting themselves and continuing onwards towards their previous destination.  Looking back, I believe that I have experienced this phenomenon before as well, and we have just had to readjust our course several times- minute adjustments, but they still would have altered out course- but we’ve managed to maintain our original goal,” the Captain told them in an even voice.  “I believe that we will start meeting heavier resistance from here on in, you might want to get ready, Madam.”

Cassiopeia Black grinned, fierce and sharp and predatory, and called the members of expedition to her, “Everyone to your posts, and keep your eyes open!  As of this moment, it is no longer us or them but ours- and we will not fail!”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

“Adriano!” Marius called happily as the other teen entered the home Dino had grown up in.

“Marius!” Adriano called back, rushing forward to sweep his friend into a warm, friendly hug, “You look great!  Everything been going alright?”  He asked as he let go and pushed the other back so he could run a critical eye over his oath brother’s form.

Blaise snorted from behind Adriano and gracelessly shoved him out of the way- artfully ignoring his offended squawk- as he greeted Marius with a friendly arm around his shoulder as they watch Adriano sulk on the floor, muttering about abusive jerks.

“Glad to see some things never change.” Shamal interjected dryly as he detached from the wall he’d been leaning against and heaved a very put-upon sigh as he reached down a hand to Adriano.

“Yeah, the fact that they’re always going to be jerks.” Adriano grumbled with a grin.

“Always and forever.” Blaise quipped.

“Amen.” Marius echoed.

The three stared at each other for a moment and burst out laughing.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

They had been battling against the Outer Wards for nearly sixteen hours, having anchored just outside where they thought them to be the previous day and started at first light, and by now it was nearing midnight and everyone was exhausted.

It was only the concentrated, unrelenting efforts of the stabilization groups that kept the whirlpools that were forming due to the clashes in force from ripping the ship apart.

Cassi’s brow furrowed as her mind raced, knowing that they were almost there, but it wouldn’t be enough if they didn’t break through soon because they wouldn’t last much longer, despite their considerable power and size.

She could see the flickers when the Wards wavered, see the outline of the island that lay beyond the Wards for the briefest of moments before it blurred out of existence once again, but that merely spurred her onwards, even if it was just an island, she wanted to see it with her own eyes in the daylight.

“Cassi-obaa-san!” called one of the Eastern students, “We think we’ve managed a clean crack!”

“Make a hole!” She bellowed as she tossed people to the side as she made her way over.

She skidded to the stop just off the bow, Fon, Bill, and Barty arriving just moments later as they put their heads together and planned one final push.

Please let this work.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Adriano preferred fighting with his hands, honestly.  Maybe with gloves to protect his knuckles occasionally, (Tsuna read a lot of manga and had gotten Adriano some Kakashi-style gloves from Naruto as an early birthday present for him before he left Japan, Adriano adored them), or with a short blade if he needed a weapon, but most of the time he enjoyed fighting with his hands because it allowed him to use his empathy.

This sort of mission wouldn’t be the time to employ such a thing, however.

In honor of his first mission as a Guardian of the Cavallone Decimo, Reborn- whose most beloved gun was a ČZ 75, which was Czech-made and one of the ‘Wonder Nine’ weapons- gave Adriano a Reborn-customized ČZ 75.

Adriano had been taught to shoot over the past few months, but he wasn’t particularly thrilled with the idea of using a gun to end a life.  He knew that the people they were up against weren’t going to go easy on them, however, and his daggers would only carry him so far, and Adriano will cut off a limb before he makes himself a liability.

Blaise was a Mist of considerable skill who also had an extensive knowledge of poisons.  He could construct a weapon behind his target out of a poison in his possession and make the weapon disappear or move on to the next target after the deed was done.  It was taxing and had limits, but with his magic to support him, he was a dangerous enemy.

Marius, under Shamal’s tutelage, had learned many things, assassination techniques included.  This might seem odd for the formerly known Neville Longbottom, but when he’d had to end the life of his own father as a mercy something inside him had broken, and Marius- while not enjoying killing- would never again see the world in the black and white shades that the boy Neville once had enjoyed. 

Being a Rain-influenced Storm, Neville had learned to kill with nothing more than a solid push of his Flame in critical areas.  A solid push to the heart would kill someone almost instantly, while a glancing blow to the lungs would cause them to drown.

(These boys were amazing, their Flame Purity, access to information, and their relentless practice allowing them to achieve things that most never even dream of accomplishing.)

Dino had his whip that had been made from Leon, and it made him a fierce opponent at both mid and long range, and Reborn’s Spartan Training, (and it deserved the capital letters!), made sure that Dino was dangerous at close range as well.

Romario was a traditional Mafioso in that he used a gun, but the man was also a brilliant tactician, able to use his surroundings to his advantage in almost any circumstance, the people in them included.

Three days into Italy and the original plan went out the window as Intel reported that all their main targets had congregated, and the way the plan ended up falling into place, they would hit all three location simultaneously, but separately.

Dino sat at the center of the table, his hands loosely clasped in front of him as he eyed the papers scattered around him contemplatively, “All right.” He said finally, “I know we haven’t been together long, but this is how we’re going to do this.  We are fortunate in that Dr. Shamal has agreed to work with us, so please give him the respect that he is due.  I will lead the assault on the Assisi base, Dr. Shamal will lead the assault on the Messina base, and Adriano will lead the assault on the Aosta base.”

The room broke out into chaos.

“He’s just a kid!”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Are you trying to get us all killed?”

“Enough!” Dino roared, surging to his feet and letting his Will seep into his voice, “Adriano is a Guardian, this doesn’t make him infallible, but it does mean he outranks you.  I am your Boss, trust that I know what I’m doing.”

The room went silent for a long moment, but then one of the older members stood up and headed for the door.

Dino’s heart sank, “Matteo?”

The older man threw a glance back over his shoulder, “What, Boss, I thought that we had shit to do?”

Reborn tipped the brim of his fedora down over his eyes.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Cassi staggered back as the Mastery of the Wards settled over her, the flashes and snatches of history that passed by her too fleeting for her exhausted mind to comprehend.

Still, as her back slid down the rough wood of the cabin and she fell into unconsciousness, she smiled fierce and sharp and predatory, as she allowed victory to carry her to dreams.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Isola de Gorgona: The Island of Gorgona, a penal agricultural island about 19 nautical miles off the coast of Italy.

Marina Militare: The Italian Navy.

Ammiraglio di Divisione: Divisional Admiral, (OF-7).  In the United States Navy an O-7 is a RDML or Rear Admiral Lower Half, but I am not sure if this is an exact rank translation, however.

Pensionato: retired

Ministero della Giustizia: The Italian Ministry of Justice

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

“Why,” Adriano sighed wearily, “does crap like this always happen to us?”

“No idea.” Dino mumbled into the pile of reports across from him.

The raids on the Aosta, Assisi, and Messina bases had taken place nearly five days ago, and had gone fairly well, if not according to plan.

At all.

Each assault group had had about twenty members in addition to the group leaders which should have put them at a huge disadvantage as each base housed roughly a hundred hostile Famiglia members.  The ‘bases’ themselves were twelve-thousand or so square feet monstrosities with anywhere between five to fifteen acres of land, meaning plenty of area for the enemy to fortify their defenses, have escape tunnels, or generally make the small assault team’s lives miserable.

However a young Boss he might be Dino was far from a stupid one, and he had learned from Reborn about using your best weapons in a fight- and that included when planning for one- so the time, insertion points, and methods of insertion had been carefully detailed despite all the hiccups they’d faced.

So, they had all gotten in fairly easily, it was what they’d found when they’d gotten inside that had turned the assault on its head, again.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

In Aosta, Adriano had taken point with a small group and ghosted into the room that had continued his targets and immediately slithered back into the shadows, signaling his team to do the same.

In a rather large room with a balcony sat his target, but the man was shaking and in the visitor’s chair while an unknown man sat behind the desk.

“I see that you don’t have my goods for me, Benito.”  His accent is Spanish, but off- maybe Latin or South American?

“I-I told you I wouldn’t deal in people!”

The man behind the desk sneered, the scar that ran down his face crinkling and casting a sinister shadow to his face, “Don’t you care about your dear daughter, Benito?”

The man- Adriano’s original target Benito Boerio- slumped, but his voice was firm when he spoke, “It’s my fault, I know.  I got us involved in drugs when we were scrambling for money and I thought that we could use the trade long enough to get us out of our slump and then cut ties.”  The man let out a hollow chuckle, “Of course, no one gets free from that world once you step into it, and before I knew it my only child- my beautiful Isabella- had fallen for your charms, Carlos.”  The man looked up at the scarred man across the desk, “I’ve used my love of my daughter to justify many things, but she made her decision and she knows who and what you are and I can no longer close my eyes to the suffering I’m causing the people around me.”

“This is it then?  Too bad old man, Isabella is quite fond of you, but now I have to kill you and make it look like an accident.  She’s quite useful, after all, I would hate to have to replace her.”

Benito’s lips twisted bitterly, “It’s not as if anyone will notice the change in leadership around here, you’ve been using my Famiglia to do your Cartel’s dirty work for nearly fifteen years.  My daughter is so taken with you I imagine that you could tell her that they sky is purple and she would believe you.”

The man’s lips warped in a twisted parody of a grin as he languidly rose to his feet and reached inside his suit jacket, “Yes, she is a dear.” He purred.  “And now-“

Adriano knew that he could make the decision that he was about to make, but it was still a huge leap of intuition and faith and-

I really hope that I’m making the right decision. He thought as he tapped his earpiece and licked his lips and took a deep, steadying breath as he readied himself to issue his first orders as Mission Leader and not just as a follower of a pre-planned script.

(Adriano firmly pushed back the voice in his head that was pointing out that he was still a few weeks from thirteen and that this wasn’t fair.

Life wasn’t fair, you took what you had and made the best of it, and Adriano had better than most with his Papá at his back and he wouldn’t shame the man by being a coward on a flimsy excuse like age.)

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Assisi and Messina had seen similar shifts in tactics, and it explained why they were currently up to their eyeballs in paperwork and Intel reports with prisoners and refugees and a host of other issues that they hadn’t planned for.

“This was supposed to be simple.” Adriano stated plaintively, “Go in, shoot the bad guys, take their stuff, be disgustingly good guys for being bad guys.”

Romario made a choked sound and Blaise chuckled.  Marius was still dutifully scribbling away at his pile of paperwork.

Reborn hopped up and kicked his son in the head, “Stop complaining, Adriano.  You idiota are the ones who wanted to do things your way, and that is exactly what is happening.”

Dino finally raised his head and smiled at his tutor, “I know.  And we’re glad, really, it’s just- there’s so much to do.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Shamal broke in with as he entered the room with a tray of food and drinks, “Fortunately, with Reborn and I taking the other two locations, we’ve decimated the Vasquez Cartel’s hold here in Italia, even though Adriano got the privilege of taking out their leader.”

“He was an arrogant idiot who forwent his protective detail; it was mostly luck and an excessive amount of good planning, for all our plans were mostly scrapped in the end.”  Adriano said blankly into the tabletop.

Reborn puffed up and hopped of his son’s head, “Mostly, but there was also a degree of skill involved, not to mention your negotiations with Boerio and your decisions as the Mission Leader, you might not have had an epic gunfight, but all the decisions you made were carefully weighed and considered, which ensured our success at that base, Adriano.”

“Indeed, Adriano.”  Romario agreed, “You shouldn’t undercut your part of our victory.”

“Yeah, but you guys did most of the heavy lifting.”

“As we should have.” Dino said seriously, “Assisi was where the most violent members of the Cartel ended up being and where both sides suffered the heaviest ca-casualties.”  Dino swallowed convulsively, and blinked rapidly, thinking about the deaths of the first men to have died under his command for a moment before he pushed forward, “We were better equipped to handle them.  Dr. Shamal’s unit in Messina was able to do crowd control much better than you or I would have, as the Messina base ended up being the staging area for their-“

“-human cargo.” Blaise interjected flatly.  “They were using it as a place to gather all their human cargo so they could use Messina’s access to the sea as transport.”

The room fell silent as they thought about all the people who they had discovered.  People that the Cavallone were now responsible for, as most were runaways, orphans, homeless, or castaways.

(That wasn’t even considering the number of Lucciole who paid tribute to the Boerio to keep them safe.  Brothels were technically illegal in Italy, but single sex workers were allowed to exchange sexual services for money, and in the underworld ‘legality’ was a flexible term usually used in reference to Vindice, so it would make sense that the street workers would pay for protection from Mafia members who would actually somewhat-keep their word as opposed to the local thugs.)

That wasn’t even taking into account all the people whose only crimes were loyalty to their Famiglia, that Dino- for all that he abhorred their actions- could not condemn them for that, at least not without them giving him a clearer reason.

Which was why they were trying to figure out just where the hell they were going to go from here, as you could only help people as far as they wanted to be helped but at the same time broken people needed to be pushed out of their comfort zones far enough to see that a wider world existed.

“Well,” Marius interjected brightly, “When we succeed just think about how accomplished we’ll feel!”

Even Reborn looked at the pile of reports and back at Marius incredulously.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Benito Boerio cast one more backwards glance at Dino Cavallone and wondered what he’d done in his miserable life to be deserving of serving such great man.

(For that was what Dino was, for all the youth he possessed at the moment.)

When the dark-haired Cavallone Sun Guardian had dropped in three weeks ago and interrupted what Benito had been sure was going to be his death, the Boerio Boss hadn’t known what to think, wondering if he was exchanging one dictator for another, but too tired to truly care as Carlos was dead at least, which meant Isabella was free.

Isabella…..

Benito carefully controlled his expression, not wanting to alarm his bodyguards as they made their way to the car, as he remembered that his lovely daughter had been returned to him by his new Boss.

She still looked so much like her mother….

Isabella had lived in Columbia with Carlos and hadn’t been back to visit in nearly a decade which was why he’d been so willing to bend to Carlos’ will, and apparently in that time the bastard had been playing both father and daughter.  She’d aged, her eyes looking so much older than her late-twenties physical age suggested but when he’d opened the door and laid his eyes on her, she’d smiled at him the same as she’d had when he’d come home from a long day when she’d been a little girl and her mother had been alive and they’d still been a family.

They were in the car now, headed back to Assisi.

“Heavy thoughts, Boss?” Marcelo, one of Benito’s long-time friends and bodyguards, asked inquiringly.

Benito smiled briefly at his long-time friend, “Just thinking about Isabella, Marc.”

Raphael, Benito’s other long-time friend and bodyguard, hummed, “That one seems to be foolishly naïve at first glance, but there’s a fire in him that our enemies will learn to fear.”

The aged Boerio Boss nodded, “I had no idea that they had even sent people out to retrieve her, Phael, we went through all the negotiations without even mentioning her, then she was just there when I returned one evening after everything had been signed, she said they she had been in Italia for several days, receiving medical treatment.”

Marc shook his head, “What was the final agreement?”

Benito settled back into his seat, “I retain the title of Boerio Boss, but we’re part of the Cavallone Famiglia now.  Don Cavallone is my Boss, and his Guardians outrank me as well, but I believe that despite our previous experiences with the Cartel, this is going to be for the best for us.”

Raphael grunted irritably, “We need to teach them to be tougher.”

“Why?  If they were ‘tougher’ we’d all be dead.” Marc pointed out.  “They’ve been remarkably balanced about all this.  I mean, I- or you or Boss- would have killed them all without thought.  But these brats, they’ve put some- I dunno, humanity- into this shitty mess.  It’s irresponsible and different- but they just might make it work, because they’re not being completely stupid either- they’re still taking out the trash, they’re not afraid of the dirty work- but it’s not their knee-jerk reaction either, and their instincts are really fucking sharp.”

“I guess.” Raphael conceded grudgingly, “But we still need to make sure that they don’t get their fool asses killed.”

“Indeed.” Benito raised a glass of alcohol towards his friends, “Don Cavallone shared some of the endgame with me, and let me tell you they have some ambitious plans.  Maybe it’s from slithering around in the underbelly of the underworld for almost twenty years, but I want to see these plans thrive.”

Marc raised his own glass, “Here, here!  To the brats.”

“Here’s to keeping them alive long enough to see these shitty plans through.” Raphael agreed.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Federico read through the reports one more time just to be sure he wasn’t seeing things.  “Are these even accurate?” he wondered out loud.

Fragola made an amused noise from his leaning position against the wall and Arancione didn’t even bother to hide her chuckle from the couch.  “Those came from the Varia, Boss.” Arancione pointed out after a few moments, “Xanxus doesn’t stand for shoddy Intel.”

Federico leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling, “Yeah, I know, which is why I haven’t shredded them yet.  Xanxus might toss everything that comes from my old man and CEDEF at Squalo- and the expense reports at Mammon- but he stays on top of the Varia paperwork other than that, he just despises useless drivel.”

Fragola strode over and situated himself in a chair, “Can’t really blame him, he’s improving since Nono unleased the Varia, but Iemitsu is still guilty of jumping to conclusions, letting personal feeling cloud his judgment, and not digging deep enough.”

“He’s always been overly emotional, only part of it is an act, but Massimo-“ Federico’s breath hitched but he continued smoothly, “was usually there to help him work through things.  Then Xanxus came into their lives and their special brand of hating him became a school of thought, and I think it’s imbedded itself so deeply into Iemitsu and the way he thinks that he needs a minder until we have a suitable replacement for the CEDEF.”

“You’re not going to keep him or let him choose his own successor?”

Federico sighed and shook his head, “He’s good enough to keep until we find a true fit for CEDEF, but until then we will need to do something about the conflicting Intel reports, as the CEDEF reports note nothing extraordinary happening in Assisi, but the Varia informants are saying that something happened, and that the Boerio Famiglia’s policies have changed almost overnight, despite operations appearing somewhat normal to the casual observer.  The area hasn’t been law-enforcement cleansed, and no other Famiglia has been bragging about taking over the Boerio, which is strange because-“

“-because taking over a Famiglia that was nearly five hundred strong is no small feat, and any number of small-to-medium Famiglia would be using this opportunity to power-play the shit out this situation, especially given the tactical advantages of the Boerio properties.” Arancione finished.

“Unless this is an internal power shift, but that wouldn’t explain their one-eighty in their policies.  The fact that they haven’t gotten arrogantly aggressive or overly defensive is also confusing as well.” Fragola added.

Federico hummed noncommittally, “My intuition is being pretty quiet about this so I don’t think that whatever it is a threat to us, at least at the present moment.  However, I do want to know what is going on in any case, as ‘not a threat’ could be anything from a neutral party to a potential ally, so I think it’s worth investigating.”

“So, the Varia or us?”

The Vongola Decimo-to-be rested his chin on his fist and gazed off to the side as he considered his options.

On the one hand, Xanxus would be pissed off if I didn’t ask him; on the other hand he’s already up to his neck in work since the rats are still being flushed out, six months into Operation Eradication.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Madam Cassi stretched languidly as she made her way back towards her room.

It had been just over three weeks since they had breached the Wards of the Island- which they were calling Victoriè Isle for the moment- and exploring the new territory had been exhilarating for the elderly Black matron.

They had discovered that the Wards were based on an intricate series Ward Anchors which were obsidian slabs that had been buried strategically on the sea’s floor and on the island itself.  They weren’t even just single slabs, but clusters at critical points that managed to draw power from the island’s magical plants and the sea’s magical traces, from what little they had managed to unravel so far. 

It was beyond fascinating.

The island itself was about the size of Tasmania from their best aerial reconnaissance guess-estimates, but the Wards made the space the roughly thirty-thousand or so square mile island seem to take up no space at all unless you were aware that it was there.

(They had experimented with that quite a bit.  It was disconcerting to say the least, to know that there should be an island in front of you but not seeing it.)

The island must have supported several different families over the years, because there were several distinct architectural styles that they could see from the air, though most houses seemed to favor limestone- specifically Travertine-, there was a lot of the familiar terracotta stonework that Italy was known for in the remaining structures, (though many of them would need to be restored), and plenty of amazing granite stonework as well.

What they had deemed as the main house, which was in a sort-of valley that was formed by two large hills, was large and Cassi and Fon agreed that they would more than likely find a great deal of marble work in there, even with as humble as most of the outer dwellings seemed to be.

The Palmaria had been steadfastly housing them as Madam Cassi and the other leaders wanted to ensure that they had several ‘safe zones’ before they allowed the ship to sail back towards the mainland, which led her to her latest quandary.

It was now nearly the end of July- Hogwarts let out at the first Friday in June nowadays and she went to Japan shortly thereafter- so in the seven weeks since Hogwarts had ended she had repaired a ship, and received the Mastery of Wards of this island.

Not bad for a summer vacation, really.

However, she was only a Deputy, and she really needed to get young Adriano here so he could fully Master the Wards, and then there were the young ones who would need to head back to school in a few weeks, not to mention that now that they had a better idea of what they needed they could fully stock up on supplies so they could truly explore the island.

(That young Carmichael lad was truly a genius; it was a pity that there were no young Black daughters in his generation.  Perhaps she should speak with Sirius about his duties to the family.)

Cassi glanced to the side and sighed, that was another issue.

She couldn’t in good conscience send young William or Barty back to Hogwarts when they were so very alive here in the field.  Cassi herself might have to return as Narcissa had given birth to a beautiful baby girl on the sixth of January and had named her Adriana Cassiopeia and would need help.  (Adriana could mean ‘dark’, so most thought that it was a play off of Lucius’ name, but Narcissa had looked directly at Dr. Shamal when she had said the name, leaving little doubt that she had named the girl in honor of Adriano, whose real name she had learned by accident but had kept to herself.) 

I need to speak with Adriano and Reborn, She decided firmly, We have to have an alternate solution.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Adriano sat with Blaise at his left and Marius at his right, listening patiently to Lady Cissa’s report, with Sirius Black, Gemma Farley also sitting around the table in the rather luxurious conference room they had rented in Livorno.

“Alright, so in summary, even with all the changes and extra teachers, there are still some who are clinging to the old system, and McGonagall is refusing to give up her titles?” He said when she had finished.

“Basically, yes.  The Disciplinary Committee has been wonderful, but there are still some issues with the staffing.  There used to be twelve teachers, plus the Headmaster, Groundskeeper, and Filch as Staff for roughly eight-hundred students.  Now we’ve bolstered our Staff but the hierarchy isn’t clearly defined and with the new laws they’re trying to dig in their heels.”

Blaise hummed, “Hogwarts will also have an unprecedented amount of students in the next few years, as with the August session of the Board of Governors, and we will be bringing the monetary mismanagement issue to the table and pushing our agenda forward.  We’ve sat on this until now as we wanted the DC fully established before we fully shook up the Staff, that way the school wouldn’t fall into anarchy.”

“We exorcized Binns already and made some changes, but we left some of their infrastructure intact, and now they are trying to use Hogwarts as some sort of last stand for the old guard?” Marius summarized.

“Basically.” Gemma replied blandly, she’d been stuck in England covering all these issues all summer, “They’re even talking about trying to shut the DC down.”

Adriano raised an eyebrow.  Blaise gaped.  Marius laughed.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

“Alright.” Adriano said many, many hours later as he leaned his elbows on the table and tried to rub the grit out of his eyes, “The Headmaster of the school will be Oath Sworn to do what is best for the students and school as a whole. 

There will be a Deputy Headmaster whose job will be to oversee day-to-day operations and do thing like conduct Staff evaluations- are they professional?  Do they know their subject?  Can they teach it properly?; make random classroom inspections- how well the teachers were engaging the students?  Can they control their class or does the class control them?  Do they need advice?  Training?  Is the environment conducive for learning?; observe the interactions of the students-  are they being monitored properly or are they running roughshod?  Do they have too much free time?  Too little?  How is their morale?”

“Granted, the DC will be taking care of a lot of this as well, to give a differing perspective,” Gemma interjected, “But having two viewpoints for the Headmaster to see the issue from will be beneficial.”

Lady Cissa nodded, “It will also help keep favoritism and nepotism down, if there are more eyes watching.”

Adriano nodded, “Now after the Deputy Headmaster are two other positions in the Senior Staff.  The first is the Secretary, who will be the one who will be responsible for introductions to the magical world, coordinating with the nonmagical families and being their point of contact, handing out awards and making sure that they can be displayed in nonmagical areas, and being responsible for all the non-expense-related and non-academic-related paperwork.  This person is also in charge of the grounds and the way the school presents herself.

To round out the Senior Staff is the Steward, who is responsible for the expenses of the school.  Not only managing the money and budgeting it, but improving the money, the way the school uses the lands, the student’s projects, and all things of that nature.  This person’s job isn’t necessarily to turn a profit- though that is expected- but to ensure that we are not being wasteful.  Why buy something when the science class is making them in two weeks?  Instead of throwing away or burning old art projects, save them for vanishing practice.  That sort of thing.”

“The Houses of Hogwarts are an important tradition, and the Heads of House especially so, as the House is supposed to be family.” Blaise spoke next, “Some students look forwards to Hogwarts their whole lives, and I’m glad we’re leaving that tradition in place.  However, as a Head of House there should be certain qualities that are looked for and for most of the current ones-“

“They suck.” Marius interjected smoothly.

“Flitwick wasn’t bad.” Adriano objected politely, “Well, not as bad as some of the others.”

“Be as that may,” Sirius spoke for the first time in a long while, “We’re restricting the amount of responsibility a Head of House can carry.  If they teach a Core Class, they must have two Student Teachers who teach at least two years’ worth of classes, and assist in other duties so that the Head of House may attend to their duties properly.  A non-Core class teacher as a Head of House will be reviewed on a case-by-case basis.  In addition to the four Heads of House, there will be a non-affiliated Guidance Counsellor who will be open to all years and all houses, if this person needs an understudy or two, they will be provided.”

Adriano took it up from there, “The remaining member of the Senior Support Staff is the Medical Officer, Madam Pomfrey is one of the best in her field as a MediWitch, but she’s not a full Healer, so she will be getting a boss.  However, Healer Stimpson- you guys remember Patty from Gryffindor from the original Hogwarts DC, right?  It’s her mom- has been studying under Dr. Shamal, as she is a half blood and her father was a medical doctor, so she has always had a foot in both worlds anyways, making it fairly easy for her to pick up Shamal’s new program.  Being a Pediatrician has only made things easier, and I think that once they are through being territorial, she and Madam Pomfrey will along just fine.”

“Annnnnd, that takes care of the top of the school’s Staff.  Headmaster transitions to the Senior Staff: Deputy Headmaster, Secretary, and Steward, which transitions to the Senior Support Staff: Guidance Counsellor, the respective Heads of House, and the Medical Officer, did I get that right?” Gemma asked, simply for clarifications sake.

“Yup,” Adriano agreed cheerfully, “All the rest of the Staff falls in under them, so now our biggest issue is what to do about the Headmaster, since he hasn’t really impressed me with his recent actions, I guess we could see if he choose to take the Oath and go from there?”

“He’s not going to.” Blaise said dryly, “He’ll hem and haw, but he’s so invested in trying to keep people from making mistakes that he’s blind to his own.  He could teach philosophy or elective Alchemy something, but as Headmaster he needs to go.”

“Right,” Adriano sighed, “So, Headmaster candidates?”

“Madam Cassi!” Marius chirped brightly.

The table burst out laughing, “Only-chuckle- if you tell her!” Blaise choked out from where he was doubled over.

Adriano wiped his eyes and patted Marius on the shoulder, “There are dragons to be slayed and countries to be conquered, let’s not ever mention that to Madam Cassi, alright Marius?”

Marius seemed to think about what he’d said and went slightly grey, “I am so glad that she’s not here today.”

“Well, now that we’ve had that bit of hilarity, I do have some serious considerations for the Headmaster post.” Sirius told them after they had calmed themselves, “There is Cyprill Greengrass, the grand-uncle of the Greengrass girl currently at Hogwarts and her little sister will be starting this year as well, he’s a no-nonsense businessman who has always seen shades of grey instead of black and white, but he’s fair and not easily intimidated nor does he really give a damn about popular opinion.  He can be canny and stern but also kind and straightforward.  He has been estranged from his family for decades, but he is a powerful wizard in his own right, and he was never forced to choose a side, he’s my favorite choice.

The others are all Reborn’s bitches: Lucius Malfoy and their ilk- sorry Cissa- but I’d really like to see Cyprill in the Headmaster position because he’s canny enough to read the writing on the wall, and for all that he’s never married or had any children, he’s fostered fourteen orphans at various points throughout the years.”

Adriano thought for a moment, “You really feel that strongly about this guy’s potential?”

Sirius nodded without pause, “I really think he’s our guy.  Not a ‘yes man’, but we don’t want one of those anyways, we want someone who will fight for the students and not for a personal agenda.”

“Alright then, get him on board Siri.  The August session of the Board of Governors is in ten days.” Adriano decided, thoroughly tired of making decisions at this point in his life, “Deputy Headmaster, then?  I think McGonagall is a teacher more than an administrator.”

“Agreed.” Gemma echoed.

“I nominate Lady Cissa.” Adriano put forth firmly.

The lady looked startled, but Sirius echoed Adriano’s nomination, and Blaise, Marius and Gemma were quick to offer their own agreements, “It’s basically what you’re doing now, Lady Cissa.  You would, of course, have all the support you could possibly want from the DC, but I would really like for you to be the Deputy Headmaster.”

“They’ll want her to stay home with her baby, though, because of tradition.” Gemma pointed out.

Adriano’s eyes narrowed, “Lady Cissa will be provided will all the aid she could want, and it’s her decision.  If she wants to be the Deputy Headmaster then she can and the old farts that want to cage her can go jump off a damn cliff without their wands for all I care.”

Lady Cissa’s eyes watered and she swept around the table and pulled Adriano in a hug, “You are a treasure, Adriano Potter.” She whispered as she tried to keep herself composed, of course that worked until the teen’s arms came around her- he really gave wonderful hugs, that boy.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

They had decided to take a small break after Lady Cissa’s nomination, the lady herself still a little puffy-eyed a half hour later, but the proud tilt was still in her chin and her smile was warm as she regarded the flustered teen who was being teased by the young Zabini heir.

“Alright, so Headmaster Greengrass and Deputy Headmaster Cissa,” Adriano flashed her a smile, “now we need a Secretary and a Steward.”

“Actually, my sister Andromeda would make an excellent Secretary, if that wouldn’t cause any nepotism issues.” Lady Cissa spoke up, “She was disowned as a Black for marrying a muggleborn, Theodore Tonks, who is a lawyer on the nonmagical side of things.”

“Tonks- like Nymphadora Tonks?”

Lady Cissa looked surprised, “That’s her daughter.”

Adriano grinned, “She was part of the original DC.”

Sirius barked out a laugh, “I’ve met with Andy once since my ‘release’ and she did mention something about Nymphadora making friends her final year of school that helped her graduate with the grades she needed to make it into the Auror program.  Shoulda known it was your DC, pup.”

“Well, as a disowned Black in the height of Blood War Andy really couldn’t do much in the magical world, so she’s pretty well assimilated to the nonmagical world, but she was raised a Black.  I think that the reversed perspective of going from magic to technology, the experiences of her own daughter going to Hogwarts, and her Black upbringing would make her the perfect Secretary.”

The teen hummed, “Alright.  Which one of you wants to talk to her?”

“We both will.” Sirius said firmly, “We’ll do this as a Black family matter.”

Adriano noted Lady’s Cissa’s stunned look, but decided to keep the meeting moving, “Alright.  Steward then.”

“Trenton Higgs, the father of Terrence Higgs who is going to be a Sixth Year this year, he’s a successful businessman who is scrupulous but frugal.” Gemma put forth promptly.

“Ah, yeah, Terrence is with the Expedition isn’t he?” Marius wondered out loud.

“Yes- the lucky bastard, he’s on night patrol for the first two weeks- but his father really does a good job of being a good manager without being an over spender, it’s how he’s kept the family business clean and in the black all these years.  I had a feeling we were going to need a Treasurer, so I prepared a dossier about him.” She passed the file around, and they spent the next few minutes paging through the information.

“Well,” Sirius said as he sat down his folder, “I can tell you that the information matches what I know about Trenton.”

“Who is going to get him on board?” Blaise asked from behind his folder.

“I can.” Sirius said, “I can get him and Cyprill at the same time, despite their age differences they are occasional business partners, so I can work with hat.”

“But you only have ten days.  Well, more like nine by the time we all get some sleep.”

“You brats aren’t the only ones who can work miracles.”

“Alright, well, we’ve got structure and the Senior Staff ironed out, the rest I leave in your capable hands, guys, let’s get some sleep.”

Sirius glanced at the clock, “Hey, Adriano?”

“Yeaaaah?”

“Happy Birthday.” Sirius’ tone was disgustingly cheery.

“…..I hate you a little bit right now, Siri.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Adriano groaned as the shrill sound of the phone pierced through the pleasant haze of sleep that he had been happily ensconced in, causing him to feel around until he felt his Flame-mobile and flipped it open by touch-memory, “’lo.” He slurred.

“Adriano!” Dino’s panicked voice came through the line, jerking the newly-turned-thirteen-year-old into awareness sharply.

“Dino?  What’s wrong?” Adriano asked with all the calm he could muster, absently noting Blaise and Neville waking up as well, (they had a Queen sized bed at the hotel, and they were so tired after the meeting they’d just crashed).

“Ohmygod, it’s just-“

“Dino?”  Adriano put the Don on speaker and began searching for clothes, a terrible million scenarios flitting through his mind.

“Pipsqueak-Dino, stop giving my son a heart attack on his birthday.” Reborn’s voice came through the phone, followed by a pained yelp.

Adriano and the other two guardians stopped scrambling around and stared at the phone, “Huh?” Blaise said for all of them.

“Sorry.” Dino muttered, “It’s just that I got a call from Benito ten minutes ago and he said that Federico Vongola’s Sun Guardian paid him an unexpected visit this morning-“

“Oh, hey it’s almost noon!” Marius noted in the background.

“-and while I was on the phone with Benito, Federico himself called Reborn, wanting to schedule a meeting with me and my new Guardians.”

Adriano groaned- loudly- and flopped back on the bed, “Today?” 

(He wasn’t whining, he wasn’t!)

“I’m afraid so, Adriano.” Reborn did sound somewhat sympathetic, “But in his defense, the Cavallone did just take over a rather powerful Famiglia quietly and with minimal bloodshed.  Vongola were watching them, but there was only so much that they could do without breaking Mafia law.  Dino’s Famiglia having earlier claims to the territory and proof of the Boerio- or rather the Cartel’s- intent to involve themselves in the trafficking of civilians is what Dino used in his Defense of Action to the Vindice, and why he won.

Federico also has a vested interest in you anyways, due to your contribution to freeing Xanxus and assisting in Operation Eradication.  You were only recovered a little over five months ago, Adriano, so the fact that you have not only become Dino’s Guardian but have assisted him a matter such as this in that short amount of timeis of great interest to Federico, especially as he is officially set to be the Vongola Decimo.”

“But why today?” Adriano moaned plaintively.

“Why not?” Was Reborn’s utterly inspiring reply.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Despite Adriano’s best attempts at not-whining it only took the teens forty-five minutes to be showered and suitably attired for a late lunch with Federico Vongola.

(Meaning that Reborn, Romario, and Dino showed up about twenty minutes after the call ended with a tailor that altered their suits on site while Reborn went over etiquette with them.)

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

“Ah, it’s nice to meet you in the flesh, Adriano!  I’m Federico Vongola!” 

Adriano gamely shook the young man’s hand and slid back into position as Dino continued the introductions, being internally amused that the young Decimo-to-be had decided to name all of his Guardians after fruit, despite the fact that fruit was generally considered with ‘female’ connotations.

Fragola was a tall olive skinned man, who seemed to be somewhere between Dino and Federico’s age, with dark hair and dark eyes, but there was an air about him that seemed to exude ‘mess with my Boss and die’.  Arancione was tanned, but her hair was more of a strawberry blonde color and her eyes were a pale green, she was rather short compared to the two men- maybe just under five-and-a-half feet- but she moved with the grace of a predator. 

Federico Vongola himself reminded Adriano of Tsuna, honestly.  Or rather, who Tsuna would be in a few decades.  The young man stood confidently, but not overly arrogantly, broad shouldered and roughly six feet, with multi-toned chocolate colored hair and warm, caramel colored eyes.  His hands were calloused, too, which was something that his Papa had taught him, (Never trust a man without callouses on his hands with your life- you can trust him with your money or your defense or your body, but never your life).

Adriano’s introspection had taken the rest of introductions, so they were soon seated in their private room in the high-class restaurant.  “So,” Federico said brightly after they had ordered, “Tell me a bit about what’s been going on lately.”

Dino, as the Boss, started the tale as was proper, but it didn’t take long for Adriano to absently remind him of something and then Blaise to make a snarky comment, which made Marius butt in cheerfully, which required Romario to hurriedly jump in and try to maneuver the conversation back towards its original goal.

(Poor Romario.)

So, basically, it took them all of fifteen minutes to essentially forget that they were sitting across from the heir to the most powerful Mafia Famiglia in the entire world, and so they were just bantering back and forth as they recounted the user-friendly version of the summer.

“- was I supposed to know that would happen-“

“-come with warning signs you moron-“

“-‘grenades go boom’ is not a novel concept-“

“-they were disguised as packages camping toilet paper!  Who even does that?-“

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Federico Vongola was utterly fascinated by the Cavallone Decimo and his Guardians.

He’d seen Adriano and Blaise on the laptop back in December, of course, but to see them in person and to know what they’d accomplished was something else.  Add in young Marius and Romario, and Dino had a fierce set of Guardians even if he was still missing two.

Federico firmly quashed the little stab of jealously he felt at not having these wonderful Guardians for himself, he had a Sun anyway, and the other two teens had come with Reborn’s boy.

Don Cavallone, on the other hand, was entirely unexpected.  Federico had known that Reborn had been training the boy as a favor to the Cavallone Nono, had known that Cavallone Famiglia was a sinking ship that would most likely fold into the Vongola at some point during his reign as Decimo due to poor financial decisions as Dino had been emphatic about not wanting anything to do with the Mafia, but this new Dino Cavallone just might make the Cavallone Famiglia great.

Even more exciting for Federico, was that Dino might pull the Cavallone Famiglia up to the top of the Mafia World using the tactics that Federico wanted to use as Vongola Decimo, as opposed to the run-of-the-mill tactics that everyone else was using nowadays.

(This endless cycle that their world was stuck inside.)

Instead of waiting to get to the top to change, though, the Tenth Generation of the Cavallone were starting from the bottom and blazing their own trail, and the more Federico heard the more he wanted to be a part of it.

Oh, they weren’t saints or angels or anything of the like, but they were trying to inject some kindness back into the Mafia world,  almost trying to be something in-between Vongola Primo and Secondo, (and that had always been Federico’s dream- to be feared enough to be respected for his power, and beloved enough to be treasured for his mercy).

It could crash and burn, he admitted to himself, but his Intuition was all but purring and Federico knew that if he didn’t do something he’d never forgive himself either way.

“-one of our biggest issues at the moment is that we have a ton of children with varying levels of education and no teachers for them.  We can’t just drop them in school without having them up to standard for their age group, even though the papers would be easy enough to forge.”

“Hmm, I see.” Federico said contemplatively as he wiped his mouth, “So you need teachers for people with little to no formal education and some language barriers?”

Dino looked a little surprised, but recovered quickly, “Yes.  We have some, of course, and they’re really doing an excellent job, but with our current resources-“

“-the problem will outpace you.” Federico finished for him.  The Decimo-to-be rested his elbows on the table and cradled his chin in his hands as he sized up the other Boss, “I will be blunt with you, Dino.  I like your tactics.  The Vongola has been trying to shift back towards our roots for the past few generations but we seem to keep getting sidetracked.  You’ve done more in a summer than we’ve managed in thirty years and as the future Vongola Decimo I want to ensure your success, can I count on you to continue your work?”

The young Cavallone Don’s eyes sharpened and hardened as his Will flared, “I will not turn away your offer of aid, Vongola Decimo, however- I will not bow for it either.  This is the path my Famiglia has chosen to walk with me, and we are fully prepared to walk it alone if we must.”

Federico smiled, bright as the sun, but his eyes were fierce, “I look forward to it, Don Cavallone.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

“The hell just happened?” Adriano asked when they were all safely inside the car.

“That’s what I’d like to know!” Dino yelped as he slumped against his Sun Guardian.

“That,” Reborn said with a disturbing grin, “Was the beginning of a beautiful friendship between the Cavallone Decimo and the Vongola Decimo.”

“Pretty sure I just threated one of the most powerful men in the underworld, Reborn.” Dino said agitatedly, letting Marius maneuver him until the young Boss had his head in Marius’s lap- watch this Romario- and he sighed in relief when Rain-infused fingers began combing through his hair.

“That feels awesome, thanks Marius.” Dino muttered.

“No problem, Boss!” the young man chirped as he went back to explaining the technique to a very interested Romario.

“Dino,” Reborn’s voice came again, “If you had accepted his offer without question, it would have weakened your position, but he was being especially blunt with you, so maybe not by that much.  The point is, the way you made your point was outstanding.  Your body language, the look in your eyes, the way your Guardians responded instinctually- all of that was noticed by everyone else and it made a much more lasting impression than anything else that you could have scripted.  I’m proud of you, Pipsqueak-Dino.”

Dino closed his eyes and fought back the burn of tears.

-then he yelped when a rubber bullet impacted close to his leg.

“Reborn!”

“Can’t have you getting soft.  Now as a good Boss you should plan a surprise for Adriano for his birthday.”

“I’m right here, Papá.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Reborn had Leon shift into a camera and he snapped several pictures.

Puppy-piles were becoming a thing.  Maybe he should get a bigger bed for Adriano’s apartment back in Namimori.

(Actually, it would probably be a good idea to buy a house in Namimori. As Shamal projected that Tsuna’s seal would fully break sometime this next school term and then it would only be a matter of time before the rest of the boy’s Guardian- Reborn was almost positive that Gokudera was Tsuna’s Storm- started migrating Tsuna’s direction.

 Younger Skies tended to attract their Guardians easier anyway, and with his son in the picture, Reborn suspected that Tsuna would gather his full set much more quickly than should be possible.)

Adriano had gotten to talk to his family back in Japan for a few hours for his birthday present as there really hadn’t been time for birthday shopping, but he swore it was the best present anyone could have gotten him. 

Adriano had made sure that Tsuna and Hayato were making good on their promise to help Asuka-obaa-san and Hinata-san for Tanabata, and Tetsu had assured Adriano that everything was going well in Namimori.  Kyouya had mostly interacted small comments, but Kyou-chan had actually said ‘herbivore’ and Adriano had absolutely lost his mind for about ten minutes.

After the call, though, it was back to work, as they were still processing everything.  The next time- There will be no next time, dammit!- this happened, they would have protocols for these situations in place, but were having to be extra careful about their decisions and document everything just in case the one of the other Famiglia called for an Assessment from the Commission.

(Reborn didn’t trust the Commission- they were people, and people could be bribed.  However, the only alternative to a Commission-called Assessment was to request for the Vindice to conduct it, and those guys did not appreciate blurred lines, which meant meticulous documentation of the hows and whys and citations of Mafia laws and precedents on every case.)

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

To say that Adriano was unimpressed to see Madam Cassi’s grinning face would be an understatement.

It probably had something to do with the water the he was currently soaked in and the very little amount of sleep he’d gotten.

“Fortunately for you brats, I understand that you need rest.  So, Adriano, Blaise, and Marius will be coming with me while some of my minions assist young Dino and Romario and the rest stock up on supplies.  We leave in ten, you can sleep on the ship, just pack your essentials.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Much later in the day a much more rested Adriano walked out onto the deck of the Palmaria.

“Afternoon, Madam Cassi, Master Fon, Bill, Barty.”

“Ah, Adriano, let me make the introductions……”

After the obligatory introductions had been exchanged Madam Cassi explained why they were anchored just outside the Wards, “I have the Mastery of the Wards, but they know that I do not own them.  It was your Family Magic that conquered them, so as the actual Lord of the House of Potter- as far as the Family Magic is concerned- you need to take them before we can fully call this property ‘ours’.  From what we have gathered, there might be a rudimentary ‘info dump’ as you described at Hogwarts, but we haven’t been able to get decipher even a tenth of the Ward Anchors that we’ve managed to find.”

“So,” Blaise drawled from his lounging position against the railing, “This is going to suck, we’re just not sure how much.”

“Story of my life.” Adriano huffed amusedly, “Alright, Madam Cassi, let’s do this.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Adriano told the fussing Healer, “But I think that the Ward Anchors can actually prioritize and since they have so little power, they’ve been shutting down functions for ages.”

Bill gave Adriano an incredulous look, “It took nearly eighty people nearly seventeen hours to breech these Wards, Adriano.”

The teen shook his head ruefully, “From what I can scrabble together, these Wards were actually designed back when the Roman Empire was still in power, but the need for secrecy wasn’t a huge issue until the Germanic tribes began invading, and later groups like the Huns became a problem. 

This island has changed hands several times since then, but the intervening years are really murky, as if the Wards were chewing through the middle parts of the history, but the main reason the Wards were made to be this tough is due to the fact that the Crusades touched these shores.  The Wards were added to as the need for secrecy increased, and the island eventually came into the possession of a family with enough knowledge to entirely remove the island from history.  They managed to preserve the original foundation the Wards were built on and improve them- this was around 9^th Century or so I think-  there is a main vault that hold the Ward information that’s been kept, it’s just going to be a pain in the ass to get to.”

“Holy. Shit.”  Bill breathed out shakily.

“How do you know the Crusades touched the island?  They didn’t exactly go around calling themselves ’Crusaders’ back then.” Blaise asked, morbidly curious.

Adriano grimaced, “I can actually see a few flashes of battles occurring, and the armor matches with the rough estimate of the date the Wards provide me with.  We might be able to tie that Ward function to a projector-type thing or something when we charge the Wards, they’re actually dangerously low for what they’re programmed to be at.”

“Yeah, eighty people, seventeen hours.” Bill pointed out again, plaintively.

“These Wards were designed to stand up against armadas.  Apparently they didn’t know how to keep Squibs from being able to see past the Wards in the beginning, so they had to go with brute strength; refinement came with time.”

“Makes sense.” Madam Cassi said, “The ‘seven hundred year’ rule for estates is a bit misleading.  A generation for a witch or a wizard is considered to be about fifty years, and six generations is the longest amount of time a line can have their Family Magic go dormant and reawaken without being considered ‘virgin’ magic.”

“Huh?”

Marius brightened, “I know this one!  Family Magic is magic that has been passed down a specific bloodline.  In Eastern-Central Europe and parts of Russia, our important bloodlines come from the descendants of Avalonian Empire, who were the students of Myrridin, a nomad who gathered his fellow magicals and helped them create safe havens throughout the lands, though the ‘capitol’ of the Avalonian Empire was in modern-day England.

In exchange for assisting them with Warding and helping establish their infrastructure, the city-states swore fealty to Myrridin, which is how the ‘Empire’ came into being, despite Myrridin’s actual home being in Britannia.

Myrridin was the ruler of the Avalonian Empire, but he despised the title of ‘king’ so he had a Council of Friends- fourteen families who would later become the ‘Most Ancient and Most Noble’ Houses who were the High Council of Avalon, and twenty-eight ‘Most Ancient’ and twenty-eight ‘Most Noble’ Houses that served under them- as the Judiciary and Legislative Councils, following some of the Roman Empire’s examples.  The Avalonian Tenets are the laws that Avalonian Empire were founded on, and each Avalonian citizen state swore to uphold them when they came of age- the Tenets have been steeped in Old Magic for millennia as some of the earliest recovered Avalonian texts reference the Ancient Greeks as peers- it’s why the Family Magics are needed to change the Tenets, because they affect everyone.

Myrridin was a great Mage, and it is said that it was he who established the Family Magics, but no one truly knows for certain. What we do know, is that the fourteen ‘Most Ancient and Most Noble’ Houses of Avalon have always had stronger Family Magic no matter what the other Houses do to compensate for that, throughout the ages.

The Empire fell before the Roman Empire entirely collapsed and no one is exactly certain just exactly when or what caused the fall and the Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses took it upon themselves to scatter across Eastern-Central Europe and Russia to escape persecution and set up safe havens for the displaced peoples when most of the city-states were sacked by invaders or lost to wild magic.

Even with the technical fall of the Empire, the Avalonian Tenets and the Empire’s legacy lived on and by the time the Statute was invoked in 800AD, the Avalonian Tenets were the only universally recognized magical laws in Eastern-Central Europe and Russia, making them the basis for all the modern-day magical governments.”

“Also, the basis for my Papá’s schemes, you know the shadow-ruling the magical world ones.” Adriano cut in dryly.

“That too.” Blaise quipped.

“Anyways,” Marius continued after clearing his throat in an exaggerated fashion and earning himself a few eye-rolls, “One of the Tenets is that if the Family Magic disappears from a line for more than six generations, it will be considered ‘renewed’ or as Madam Cassi said, ‘virgin’ meaning that even if you could trace the bloodline back, if it is more than six generations removed, you’re not considered part of that ‘family’ in terms of Family Magics.”

Adriano furrowed his brow in thought, “I guess I could see that.  Kind of like taking someone who speaks Modern English and tossing them backwards in time a few hundred years.  The language is technically the same, but the texture, syntax, and essence are so different that it’s almost like two different languages, even though you might be able to stumble your way through.”

“Pretty much.” Madam Cassi agreed.  “Now we need to discuss what we’re going to do about Hogwarts…..”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Adriano’s trip to Victoriè Isle was mostly business after taking a quick tour of the ‘safe’ areas, so Adriano re-deputized Madam Cassi, Bill, and Barty, (who weren’t going back to Hogwarts this year or ever, most likely), and left them with solving the issue of getting some serious power into the Wards, making sure to tell them about the Winter Solstice and how well it worked for Hogwarts, (even though there was no possessed man to be forcibly ejected from this plane of existence this year).

Unfortunately, back in Livorno there hadn’t been any miracles- which meant slogging through more paperwork with for the trio, Romario, and Dino.

“Don’t look so glum, guys!  We’re almost halfway through!  And we have some help for a little while”  Marius chirped brightly.

“Marius.” Blaise said in a choked voice.

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” Both Blaise and Adriano said at the same time as they pushed the door to the ‘paperwork hell’ open.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Xanxus gave his brother a flat look.  “You what?”

“Calm down, Xan!” Federico said cheerfully, “Reborn was there!  Besides, it was a productive lunch!”

“Federico,” Xanxus growled, kneading his forehead in exasperation and in an effort to ward of the fucking migraine he knew was coming, “Instead of asking me to have my people investigate, you went off by yourself- you only have two fucking Guardians, moron- and somehow came back alive and singing the praises of Dino Cavallone?”

“’Cause he was an idiot at school.  An affable one- but still trash, and I’m pretty sure he hated the Mafia more than anyone ever hated anything.” Squalo interjected dryly from Xanxus’ right.

Federico leaned forward and stared at his brother, “I know you both went to school with him, and outside of the job he’s probably a lot like the ‘old Dino’.  I’m asking you to trust me Xanxus- Don Cavallone might have different tactics, but the Cavallone Famiglia are going to be one of my greatest allies by the time I am installed as Vongola Decimo.  I can feel it.”

Xanxus huffed and slumped back in his chair absently swiping his glass of wine from the table, “You think these trashes can pull this shit off?”

“They’re compassionate, and you’re definitely going to want to gag on their sentiment at some point, but I think you’ll appreciate the steel in their spines because they’re not cowards either.  Time will tell, of course, and they’re going to stumble a bit along the way, but despite your very different tactics I think that the Varia and the Tenth Generation Cavallone Guardians will be able to work together.”  Federico told Xanxus earnestly, eyes bright and hands fluttering around in an effort to help him convey his message as he talked.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Xanxus was watching Federico closely.

It was Xanxus’ job, as the Varia Boss, to guard his brother’s back.  He’d had to go to extremes, and he’d only managed to due to Reborn and Adriano’s interference, and he’d never forget the fact that he owed Reborn and Adriano Potter, despite hating owing anyone.

Xanxus was also interested in cultivating a relationship with the Potter due to his magical heritage, as the WEATHER squad definitely needed a capable fucking leader.

None of that meant that Xanxus trusted the brat or his father, not yet.

They got more consideration than most, and in the privacy of his mind he acknowledged that they had done absolutely nothing to further a personal agenda, and if they wanted to do something of that nature it would have been easier to keep him on ice.

Then again, people could be stupid.

(Reborn the Sun Arcobaleno wasn’t one of them.)

However, this most recent move was sending mixed reaction through Xanxus.  The Cavallone Famiglia rising- possibly to the top- and them pulling their own weight would be a boon to Federico, especially if they continued with their current tactics.

Oh, Xanxus was well aware that Varia tactics weren’t for everyone- it was why the Varia was so small and feared- but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate a good tactic when he saw it being applied somewhere else.  Especially as well balanced in terms of mercy and justice and yet ruthlessly practical these Cavallone brats were being, according to Federico and his Guardians, at least.

In recent years- like in the last decade or so- the shitty old man tended to be too heavy-handed and then sickeningly sweet, making his people confused and wary, which only made the problem worse.  Iemitsu garnered exactly zero respect unless he was beating the shit out of someone- and not even in a good way- so that was an issue as well, unless the target could be charmed with the man’s doofiness.  Federico was currently walking that fine line between being a loved Boss and a feared one, but he was currently restricted on what he could do as he only had two Guardians and they wanted to finish Operation Eradication before allowing Federico to move about freely to find more.

So, for now Xanxus would reserve judgment and listen, getting the Varia information network to see what they could piece together, but no matter what he owed them if he found that they were building up a power to challenge the Vongola, to challenge Federico-

Xanxus and the Varia wouldn’t show them any mercy.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Adriano once again sat in luxurious room with a rather large table only this one was at Hogwarts, Blaise and Marius at his side, and wondered exactly what had gone wrong now.

Hs internal musings were cut off by the door opening, and Sirius Black’s grinning face popping into view, “Oh,” the Black Lord said with dark amusement in his voice, “Do I have a story to tell you.”

Adriano’s head met the table quite solidly.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

A little while later, the conference room had gathered quite a few more people.

“Alright!”  Sirius stood from his chair once everyone had filed inside, “We will begin the tale of why we are all here in a moment, but first, introductions!  I am Sirius Black, Lord of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black.”

Lady Cissa stood smoothly when Sirius gestured to her, “I am Lady Narcissa Malfoy, of the Ancient House of Malfoy.”

A dark-haired woman who looked a lot like Sirius stood next, “I am Lady Andromeda Black-Tonks, of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black’s Tonks Branch Family.”

“I’m Theodore Tonks.” A cheerful middle-aged man with brown hair and laugh-lines stood next, “The Consort of Lady Andromeda, I’ve recently been told.” There was a smattering of laughs as the man rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, “Doesn’t bother me much, Andy’s always been the boss in our house.”

The lady in question yanked the man back into his seat with a firm tug on his arm, prompting the next person to go.

“Yo!  I’m Nymphadora Tonks- call me Tonks or die- of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Black’s Tonks Branch Family.  I was a member of the original Disciplinary Committee- or DC- at Hogwarts.”  A young woman with bright pink hair said cheerfully before whirling to look at Sirius, “Do we really need a title that long, Uncle Siri?”

“Tradition, Nymmie!” Sirius called back gleefully.

“Why you!” She growled, her hair turning colors.

“I am Eddie Carmichael, DC Logistics.  I will be a Sixth Year Student this September.” Said the next person efficiently.

“Gemma Farley, DC Chairman.  I will be a Seventh Year student this September.”

“Jessica Chambers, recently graduated DC Second-in-Command, and current member of the Potter Expedition.”

“Kayla Summerby, recently graduated member of the DC, and current member of the Potter Expedition.”

“I’m Cedric Diggory, I’m the new DC Second-in-Command this year but I will be the chairman when Gemma graduates, and I will be a Fifth Year this September!” a tall brunette with silvery-blue eyes and an easy smile said next.  “Oh, I’m also an original member of the DC, a Potter Expeditionary!”

“I’m Gavin Vaisey, I am Eddie’s understudy.  I will be a Fourth Year this year.”

“I’m Terrence Higgs, I will be the DC Second-in-Command for Cedric, but I won’t be officially taking over those duties fully until next year when Gemma graduates and Cedric takes on the mantle of DC Chairman.  I am also an original member of the DC.”  The tall dark-haired, green eyed boy paused a moment, “Oh, I will be a Fifth Year this September, and I was a member of the Potter Expedition this summer.”

“I am Trenton Higgs, Terrence’s father, and Lord of Noble House of Higgs.”  They could definitely say that Terrence took after his father, though Trenton had dark eyes.

“I am Healer Vanessa Stimpson, my daughter Patty is a member of the DC, she is currently in England doing DC business, actually.  She is also an original member and will be a Fifth Year.”

A venerable-looking middle-aged man stood, “I am Cyprill Greengrass.”

That was Adriano’s cue, as the man was seated directly across from him, and the way they’d done things had left the man and Adriano’s group last, “I am Adriano Potter, Heir of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter.  To my right is Marius Potter, to my left is Blaise Zabini.”  Adriano sat back down and looked at Sirius, “now that we’ve all be introduced, I think it is story time, Sirius.”

Sirius Black clapped his hands together and all but bounced, “All right!  So the meeting with the Board of Governors went about as planned.  The monetary misappropriation was presented and the new Headmaster’s Vow- which is actually just the old one that had been lost- was presented, and Albus refused to swear it.  He hemmed and hawed, and then we moved on to manipulations before arriving at outright threats.  Eventually he tried to force us out of the school via the Wards.”

Blaise snorted and Sirius’ grin widened, “Exactly.  We nominated and accepted Cyprill Greengrass.  Albus raged about it being too close to the school year and contracts and anything else he could think of, but we were prepared for all that, so in short order Cyprill had arrived and sworn the Headmaster’s Oath and been installed as Hogwarts Headmaster.”

Sirius gracefully ceded the floor to the new Headmaster amidst the applause.  “Thank you, Lord Black- Seriously, it Sirius!- and thank you, Heir Potter, for this opportunity.”

Adriano waved a hand, “You earned this position on your own merit, sir.  Thank you for taking this on, and please call me Adriano.”

The man smiled, “I look forward to the new challenge.  It is my understanding that you are the one who will install my control of the castle Wards?”  Cyprill quirked an eyebrow at Adriano and the teen nodded sharply.

“Then we will move on to other matters.  As we have agreed to use less formal forms of address due to the cohesion our new positions will require, Cissa will be the Deputy Headmaster, Andy the Secretary, Trent the Steward, and Healer Vana as our Medical Officer.  I have confirmed their appointments, independently.” The men said smoothly, as he shifted a few parchments around in front of him, “The wording of the employment contracts has been finalized, but I want to wait until I am in control of the Wards before they are signed and sealed with magic.”

Adriano nodded in agreement, “I can agree to that.  That way you can weave the contract’s magic into the Wards through the Headmaster’s Controls.”

“Precisely.” Headmaster Greengrass agreed, “Now while Albus has been removed from the position of Headmaster, I believe that it would be best to keep him on as a Professor.”  The new Headmaster paused and gauged the reactions of the people seated around the table, pleased to note that they were willing to hear him out, “Now, despite his rather deplorable behavior in the meeting and his lackluster performance as Headmaster, the man is a brilliant educator when he focuses on teaching.”

“I agree.” Andromeda Tonks interjected, “My grandfather, as much as he despised Professor Dumbledore’s political views, respected his teaching acumen greatly and was greatly displeased when the man left the Transfiguration post.  Grandfather Arcturus was only slightly mollified by Professor McGonagall’s appointment, apparently even she pales as a Transfiguration instructor compared to her mentor.”

Headmaster Greengrass gave Andy a nod of appreciation, “Indeed.  He is also a Journeyman Alchemist and a patient man, which means he would make an excellent Professor for First Year Potions, if not an elective Alchemy Professor.  Albus is also an excellent storyteller, which we can use in educating the nonmagical children in magical fairy tales and such.  Naturally there is the matter of keeping his personal agenda out of his teaching methods, but with so many other influences I’m not particularly concerned, especially with the Deputy and the DC to assist in keeping an eye on things.”

The table dissolved into quiet discussion for a little while before Adriano spoke up, “Will he accept being a Professor and adjusting to the shift in power?”

“It would be an adjustment.” Headmaster Greengrass admitted, “But the Board meeting was earlier today, and it is my understanding that he hasn’t contacted anyone just yet as he’s been tied up with the other members of the Board while we were assembling this meeting.  Apparently Cissa blocked his access to the Wards, so he is under the impression that Hogwarts supported the Board’s decision.” The man finished uncertainly.

“She has the power to do that, but I will not go into full detail with everyone present.” Adriano said simply.

Headmaster Greengrass nodded in understanding and moved forward, “Since that is one issue out of the way, let us move forward.  The Heads of House.  After reading the reports from the DC and Cissa, and some discussion, I believe that Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout will remain in charge of their respective Houses of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff so long as they consent to the two Student Teachers, which shouldn’t be an issue with these two Professors, as they have requested and been denied apprentices every year.

That brings up the issue of Professor McGonagall, who up until now has refused to relinquish her three titles, which will no longer be possible.  She is an excellent instructor and if Albus stays, I imagine that she will stay as well.  However, from the reports her House is wildly undisciplined, but if this is from a lack of time or inclination has yet to be seen, so I withhold judgment and monitor the situation as it unfolds.

The last Head of House is Severus Snape, and while he is staying as the Potion Master of the school for reasons I am not entirely on, he’s not going to be in charge of anything more than a single classroom.  I’ve had orphans who have sat through that man’s lessons and I refuse to allow him any more authority in my school that absolutely necessary.”  Headmaster Greengrass’s voice had gotten very dark by the end of his statement.

“Agreed.” Came several voices.

“Unfortunately, he is the best Potion Master in the world and Hogwarts does have the best facilities for him to experiment.” Adriano said, his expression torn between loathing and resignation, “Through a series of circumstances that I am not able to expound on at this time, I am responsible for him, and though I have been able to curb his behavior, I cannot erase his past actions.  Very unfortunately, he is the only person who can teach our upper years to push the boundaries of the Potionmaking and save them when they make critical errors.  He will not be anywhere near the younger students, and I entirely approve removing him as the Slytherin House Head.  He might have been good to his students behind closed doors, but his actions were doing them no favors and his tactics have no place in the new Hogwarts.”

“Once Draco came to Hogwarts, if you weren’t a Malfoy crony, you were pretty much screwed.” Gemma said bluntly.  “Sorry Lady Cissa.”

The Lady waved a hand dismissively, “Draco, as much as I love him, has idolized his father. He still hasn’t quite grasped the new order of things, but I have faith that this upcoming year will be the pivotal moment where he chooses to be his own person.”

“So, that leaves us with a vacant Head of House seat.” Blaise pointed out.

“Indeed.  I would have recommended Trent, as he was a Slytherin, but Senior Staff are not allowed to a Head of House.  So, I would like bring my own recommendation to the table.”  Headmaster Greengrass took a bracing breath, “Julius Rookwood.”

There was the sound of shuffling papers and silence for a moment, and Cyprill was honestly a little unbalanced at the lack of explosive protests, “Please, continue.” Adriano encouraged after a moment, “All I know about Julius is that he is the uncle of Augustus Rookwood, who died in Azkaban as a Marked supporter of Voldemort, and was once an Unspeakable.”

Headmaster Greengrass nodded and produced some reports from his briefcase, “Yes.  Julius is Augustus’ uncle, though they really weren’t that far apart in age due to Julius’ father- Marcus- remarrying about the same time his brother- Cornelius- married.  In all, Julius is only about five years older than Augustus is- would have been- but due to the shadow of Augustus’ betrayal of the Unspeakables, Julius does not work in England often even though his family home is here.  He attended Hogwarts and was a Slytherin, he was also an Unspeakable until it was discovered that Augustus was a traitor.”

The table dissolved into discussion as they pored over the reports.  “Well, we hired you as a Headmaster for a reason, if you approve of this man, then we’ll trust you on this, Headmaster Greengrass.”  Adriano decided finally.  “I have a soft spot for Slytherin House, though, so I really would like to see them receive the respect that they deserve.”

“Thank you, Adriano, I assure you that Julius and Augustus are very different men, and Julius will help make Slytherin House great once again.”  Headmaster Greengrass assured, “Now, for the final piece of Senior Support Staff, the Guidance Counsellor.  I will admit, that when Lord Bla-Sirius told me about such a position, I was very confused as to why we would need one and what they would be responsible for, but I believe that I have an excellent candidate in mind, unless there is someone I have overlooked?”

Everyone shook their heads.  “Quite frankly, we’re pretty excited about the idea of leaving the school in capable hands and just monitoring operations.” Blaise interjected dryly.

That startled a laugh out the new Headmaster, “I suppose you are!  Well, I would recommend Amanda Davies.  She has two children here at Hogwarts- Roger and Tracey, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, respectively- and she is one of the few certified Mind Healers in the Western World- but most Purebloods consider such a things a ‘crack’ profession, and most half-bloods or muggleborns expect her to work miracles and become dissatisfied when she cannot spontaneously ‘cure’ them, so as half-blood herself she went to nonmagical school for Psychology.”

Once again there were files produces and distributed, which prompted discussion, but Adriano left the final decision with Healer Stimpson, “Healer Vana, your thoughts?”

“If this woman if half as competent in person as she is on paper, then she’ll be a hell of an asset, and our new Headmaster doesn’t seem the type to suffer fools.” The Healer muttered as she re-read the file.

“Good enough for me.” Adriano said as he stretched, “That’s all the Senior Staff and the Senior Support Staff.  I recommend that we spin Professor Dumbledore’s retirement from the Headmaster’s position as him wanting the best for his students and missing teaching, but also needing more time to attend to his Wizengamot duties.”

“That’s a clever spin, Adriano.  That angle will assist in getting him to cooperate as well.” Andy noted with satisfaction lacing her tone.

“Indeed.” Headmaster Greengrass agreed, “It’s only been a few hours since the meeting, depending on how long it will take to shift the Wards, I can get started on him before he gets away from the other Governors.”

Adriano rose from his seat, “Well, we’ll leave this lot to get down to business.  Healer Vana should accompany us, but it shouldn’t take very long.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Adriano was very, very ready for this summer to be over.

“Come again?” He said tiredly.

Dino gave him a commiserating look, “Sorry, but Federico personally invited us, and Reborn says that we have to attend, sorry Adriano.”

“It’s not your fault, Dino.  At least Hogwarts is mostly sorted out now.”  Adriano leaned back into the chair and ran his hands through his hair and sighed, “We’re just besieged on all sides right now, is all.”

“I know.” The blonde said, “But I still feel bad because you just got back from England two hours ago.  We’re just now nearing the end of the tunnel on the paperwork from taking over the Boerio, even though we’re already turning profits despite paying Federico for his aid and taking care of all the people that were unceremoniously dumped onto us.”

Blaise raised his head from the couch, “Really?”

“Even after cutting all the unsavory practices, and refusing to take any protection money from the fireflies while still guarding them while they work, we’re bringing in money.” Romario rejoined proudly, “The Cavallone debt is disappearing quickly, and the Beorio is only a part of it, Boss has been working hard.”

Dino blushed, “I couldn’t have done all of this without you guys!” he protested vehemently, “Anyways, if we continue at this steady pace, I’ll actually have the Cavallone in the black by the New Year, despite cutting so much and having so many new expenditures.”

“Congrats, Boss!” Marius cheered excitedly.

“Yeah, maybe by next summer we won’t be working for free anymore.” Blaise interposed dryly.

Dino squawked indignantly.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

It was official, Mafia parties sucked- interesting twists on traditional party games or no.

Dino and his Guardians were clustered around the Cavallone table, counting down the minutes until they could leave the party without seeming rude, (and therefore incurring Reborn’s wrath).

Federico had been a wonderful host, but the general feel of smarminess that most of the other Mafioso gave off was nearly toxic to the young group of almost-vigilantes.  When Federico wasn’t around it had become even more apparent that the others were just humoring the future Vongola Decimo in regards to the Cavallone company, because the fake smiles grew exponentially colder and the words turned crueler.

So, yeah, Dino and his Guardians were over the Vongola Annual Famiglia Exchange Gala.

(It was a Gala hosted by the Vongola Famiglia every August and was the premier evening in Mafia networking events.  The Vongola provided the security, and they always used a place deep in Vongola Home Territory to prevent unpleasant incidents, and it was considered a very crème de la crème sort of affair.)

“Ten more minutes.” Adriano muttered lowly to Dino, whose shoulders lost just a hint of their tension.

“Thanks.” The blonde Boss muttered back.

“You know.” Blaise growled from across the table, “I say that we just-“

“The food is great!” Marius butted in cheerfully, “Really, we’re just here for the food!”  Marius’ words were light, but his eyes were sharp.

“Aah.” Adriano said, “All about the food, man.”

“Right?” Blaise agreed, terribly amused by this turn of events, catching Dino’s eye by accident and causing the entire table to dissolve into laughter.

A few minutes later Adriano stood, “I’ve got to relieve myself, by the time I get back, we should probably get going, Boss has an early meeting.” 

Which was a bunch of bullshit, because they were going back to pull another all-nighter to try and slog through the last of the paperwork, so they could enjoy a few days before Adriano and Blaise headed back to Japan, but it was all to help them to keep from embarrassing Federico, so they were committing to this particular act.

Adriano casually made his way towards the restrooms, inwardly groaning at the thought of completing more paperwork when a dark, foreboding chill went down his spine and he had to put all of his training into play use to keep from showing his disbelief.

Casually, he cast his eyes around the hallway and deliberately bumped into a man about a minute later, subtly bringing his Sun Flames to simmer just below the surface of his skin, “Sorry!”  He apologized sheepishly as he lightly grasped the man’s wrist and immediately quashed the panicnauseatoomuch down and pulled his Flames back, “I was preoccupied!  I apologize!”

The man laughed lightly and waved him off, “It’s fine!  No harm done!” and walked away.

Adriano went to the bathroom and did his business quickly, and went back to the others, shaking his head sharply when Dino’s eyes flashed and the other Guardians gave him intense looks.  “Let’s go.” Was all he would say, and they all put on their game faces and started the arduous farewell etiquette routine.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

They had barely closed the door behind them in the ‘paperwork hell’ room before everyone rounded on him, “Spill.” Dino ordered firmly.

“We need my Papá too.” Adriano told them tiredly.  “It’s bad.”

It took Dino about a minute to get Reborn on the phone and he put it on speaker so they could all hear and speak, “Ciaossu, Pipsqueak-Dino you just-“

“Something happened to Adriano.”

“Explain.  Now.”  Reborn’s voice was tight.

“I’m fine Papá, but are you somewhere you can hear sensitive information?”

There was the sound of shuffling and a muffled thump, “Yes.”

“Just before we left I had to use the bathroom, and on my way there I felt the same feeling that I felt First Year around Quirrell.  There was a man further down the hallway, and I bumped into him and touched his skin with my Flames active, and Papá it was-I mean-“

Reborn cursed, “Could you pick this man up out of a lineup, little sunshine?”

Adriano took a deep breath and tried to calm down, absently noting the Rain Flames that Marius was feeding him, and his own clenched fists and trembling knees, “Sorry, Papá.  It was just pretty horrible to feel.  Whatever was possessing that man is far older and well- maddened?  Broken?  Insane?- that Voldemort was, and that’s saying something.  Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize Adriano.” Reborn told him firmly, “Whoever is possessing that man got through Vongola security.  They got through me.  The fact that you followed your instincts and discovered this is extraordinary, and despite the fact that I am furious at our security breech, I am proud of you.  You did quite well, little sunshine.  Pipsqueak-Dino, make sure my son rests tonight, you idiots can do the paperwork later.  I’ll have the guest list sent over, pick out the man and sent it back, then get him to bed.”

With that the line went dead and Adriano finally gave in to the urge to vomit.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Reborn stared at the wall and contemplated his options.  He had just sent the guest list to Dino, and he would get the reply momentarily.

No, the question on Reborn’s mind was who exactly he was going to pass this information on to- Nono, CEDEF, or the Varia.

There was a time that he would have passed this information on to Nono without pause, but for all that Timoteo had gotten his act together lately, reborn was still a bit wary of the man’s judgment right now.  CEDEF as an organization was fearsome, but Iemitsu himself was unpredictable, and not always in a good way.  If this possessed person had gotten through Vongola security and Reborn, then they were beyond good and that dropped the margin of error down to almost zero, so really there was only one option at this point.

The computer beeped and the picture of an arts dealer came up on the screen.

Reborn made his decision and Leon obediently shifted into phone-form, “Ciaossu, Xanxus.  We have an issue…..”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

It took nearly a full day for Adriano to entirely shake off the after effects of using his Empathy on the possessed man, and it that time his Sky and fellow Guardians had somehow turned into mother hens.

There were moments where it was amusing and moments where it was exasperating, but during that ‘recovery time’ they had actually managed to finish all the paperwork from the takeover of the Boerio Famiglia.

After they had finished the last of it and duplicated the forms and stowed them all properly, they had all sat around the table in ‘paperwork hell’ room and looked at each other in a ‘what the hell just happened’ sort of way.

“That,” Blaise said tiredly, “Was far more work than just shooting everyone would have been.”

Romario choked on his tea and the others cracked tired grins, “I liked it!”  Marius chirped, “Learning all that stuff was interesting!”

Dino promptly chucked a pen at his Storm Guardian as everyone else groaned.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Since they had finally finished the paperwork that meant that they had more time to spend with their people.  They hadn’t been recluses, of course- which was part of the reason why the paperwork had taken so long to complete- but they hadn’t really gotten to get as involved as they wanted to be either.

Being among their people and having some of the kids who couldn’t even write their own names a month or so ago reading books was motivation enough to keep doing things their way, though.  Not to mention the way the people seemed to come alive when Dino walked into the room- as if they realized that their new lease on life was entirely due to this teenager- it was humbling, awe-inspiring, and terrifying for the Guardians to witness.

(Especially Adriano, who had an entire magical population at his mercy.)

Playing with the kids, chatting with the teens, and reassuring the adults- they made the rounds to all of the houses that had been set up for their new charges, making sure that everything was going the way they wanted them to go and straightening out any issues that they could see arising.

It was exhausting, but way better than paperwork, and the other Guardians were pleased to note that the last bit of tension finally began to seep out of Adriano’s shoulders as the day wore on.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Xanxus looked at the reports on his desk and scowled heavily, Squalo mirroring his actions from just behind him.

The houses of deep-seeded Vongola allies- specifically the Bosses of closely allied Famiglia- had been shot up the last few nights, and the art dealer that Adriano Potter had pinpointed as being possessed by an unknown force- Xanxus suspected a Mist- was responsible, but something wasn’t adding up about the situation and it was making Xanxus’ Intuition twitchy.

“What do you think, Boss?”

Xanxus growled, “I think that this trash- or, rather, the scum controlling him- has an endgame and CEDEF is walking into a fucking trap.”

“So we set out own ambush?”

“Call Mammon and tell him that I don’t care what the fuck he has to reveal about his mystic Arcobaleno powers- tomorrow CEDEF is planning an ambush at the fuckers hotel tomorrow, we’re going to counter-ambush his ass because I don’t like this.” Xanxus decided after a few moments of thought, he looked Squalo in the eye, “Recall all the Officers and I’ll call the shitty Sun Arcobaleno, I’ve got a feeling we’re going to be on the very top of our game for this.”

Squalo nodded sharply in acknowledgement and departed, his right hand coming over to rub at his aching stump absently as he made his way down the halls.  As bad as I’m aching, He thought grimly, We’re going to need everyone at their absolute best.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Sirius Black had identified the Philosopher’s Stone and Founder’s Artifacts during the summer of 1992.

However, due to the Flamel family’s reclusive nature it had taken until this summer- the summer of 1993- for Reborn to get them to agree to a meeting.

Unfortunately, even with the new threat of the arts dealer, the Sun Arcobaleno couldn’t afford to reschedule this meeting.  Reborn was going to have to trust that Xanxus and Dino would be able to be Bosses and tackle the situation accordingly.  Of course, Adriano and Shamal would also be there, but it would be Dino’s first major operation without Reborn directly supporting him, and that made the cursed man uneasy on principle.

Still, he had faith in his boys.

Mostly.

If Xanxus screws this up and gets my boys hurt.  Reborn thought grimly as he waited for the Flamel family retainer to arrive.  I’ll kill him myself.

Reborn was using one of his Italian bolt-holes for the meeting with the Flamel Family Retainer, as he hadn’t wanted to try to arrange to be out of the country so close to the Gala.

So, the morning of the planned counter-ambush by the Varia Elite and Adriano’s associates, Reborn was patiently awaiting the arrival of Retainer, armed with the Philosopher’s Stone, (or at least what was assumed to be the Philosopher’s stone), and the Founder’s Artifacts.

Reborn was hoping to use the Founder’s Artifacts to convince the Flamels to owe him a favor at a later date.  The Artifacts seemed to be made of metals that were highly exceptional and therefore suspected to be of Alchemic origins.  Reborn was hoping that the thought of studying them would be enough to entice the notoriously finicky couple to agree to be loosely bound to Adriano in case something came up where they needed the Flames’ expertise- the current battle against the unknown on Victoriè Isle being a prime example. 

The Flamels might be well into their sixth centuries, but the Expedition was stumbling over roadblocks that were easily twice that old and so having them Flamels’ perspective on even one of those situations would be incredibly beneficial.

Hence why reborn was here in a chair, drumming his fingers impatiently while his son’s life was in the hands of Dino Cavallone and Xanxus of the Varia.

Well, Shamal was there as well, and Adriano was no slouch either- but the entity they were going up against made it through Vongola security- through Reborn- without raising any red flags.

The Sun Arcobaleno fisted his child-like hands and took a few deliberately measured breaths. 

Adriano will be fine.  You’ve never coddled him, Renato.  Let the boy prove himself.  He told himself firmly.

Hasn’t he done enough?  A traitorous voice whispered, threading through his mind like an unwanted oil spot in a glass of water.  Hasn’t he proved himself enough?  When will you stop pushing him?  When-

Reborn was saved from his traitorous thoughts by the door opening, and his minion for the day poked their head inside, “The Flamel Retainer has arrived, Mr. Reborn.”

“Send him in.”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Xanxus and the Varia sat opposite the Cavallone Tenth Generation plus Shamal.  They were all gathered around a conference table in a hotel about a block and a half away from the hotel the arts dealer was staying in.

It was getting harder and harder to dislike these bastards which was pissing him off, Xanxus thought sourly, as he watched the brats study the Intel the Varia had laid out on the table and offer constructive input to the operation.

It was the morning of the planned counter-ambush, and on the Varia side only Squalo and Xanxus knew of Mammon’s connection to the Cavallone Mist Guardian.

Levi and Bel had thoroughly cased the arts dealer’s hotel and Lussuria had dazzled his way into the CEDEF offices earlier, allowing Mammon to slid in the side and gather all the pertinent information about the agents who were assigned to this mission.

Reborn’s brat, Adriano, had been as explicit as possible when he’d talked about the entity that was possessing the arts dealer.  The brat said that he didn’t think that the consciousness of the person who was being possessed could be salvaged.  Mammon couldn’t fully get a read on the situation, as the kid’s ability was empathy-based instead of purely mental, but Lussuria was also a Sun and after listening to the brat, Luss had concurred that the person who was being possessed was likely heavily damaged, at the very least.

Mammon had put forth that just sniping the arts dealer wasn’t likely to solve their problems, so that was ruled out quickly.  After some discussion, Mammon had reluctantly mentioned that he did have a technique that could be used to affect an inorganic entity, but he would need to be in close proximity, thus the need for the strategizing.

Not only did they need to figure out how to get inside with CEDEF’s agents already watching the place, but also to battle and exit without being implicated.

They had come to the unanimous decision to modify the memories of anyone related to the CEDEF or the Vongola that they came across.

It wasn’t something that was normally done to allies out of courtesy, but with this particular security breech they felt that this course of action was best for both them and the Famiglia. 

What had surprised the hell out of Xanxus was the resistance he met with when he wanted to inform the Ninth post-operation.  It had been more of a Varia Protocol than a personal desire, truly.

It had almost broken the alliance.

“Look.”  Dino Cavallone had said in a distinctly Boss-like voice.  “We understand that you are part of the Vongola Famiglia and you have your loyalties, that isn’t our issue.  What our issue stems from are some of the Ninth’s decisions.  We propose a compromise.”

Xanxus had snarled furiously, and had kept his gun pointed at the Cavallone Boss, but he had quirked an eyebrow.

“We do this together and modify all the memories of those we come across, as we agreed.  However, post-operation you report to Federico, as Vongola Decimo, instead of the Ninth.”

That had stopped Xanxus cold.

“So.”  He’d said lowly.  “Your issue isn’t informing the Vongola so much as informing the Ninth.”

“Basically.”  Adriano had interjected mildly, though his green eyes were sharp and his skin was nearly glowing with Flame.  “We’ve met and respect Federico.  We’re not saying we don’t respect the Ninth, and he had made great strides in the past year, but we’d prefer this operation went to Federico instead.  If Federico chooses to inform the Ninth, then so be it.”

Xanxus had stared hard at the Cavallone Tenth Generation for a minute before snorting in derision and holstering his weapon.  “Whatever.  Federico’s fine with me.  One less conversation with the Old Man.”

That had been that.

It had taken a little while for the tension to dissipate after that, but slowly they had gotten down to business and despite their wildly different philosophies and tactics, they managed to get down to the planning portion with only a few arguments.

(Most of them revolved around Mammon’s brat toying with Belphegor.  The Prince Brat probably would be much less offended if he realized that the Cavallone Brat was Mammon’s offspring, but instead only saw him as competition.)

Xanxus was quietly fascinated by the loyalty that the Mist Brat and the Storm Brat had to Reborn’s Brat, however.  Xanxus suspected that Mammon’s kid was more of a right-hand type, while the Storm-Rain kid was actually a left-hand. 

Rarely seen but absolutely, unquestionably lethal in their effectiveness to end threats to their boss.

Dino Cavallone might be the Cavallone Boss and have those brats as his Guardians, but there was no question that Blaise and Marius were loyal to Adriano first.

That sort of thing would never fly with Xanxus, because he was honest enough to admit that he was a possessive bastard.   But with Dino it worked out beautifully because Adriano was more a peer than a subordinate, which helped give the young Don someone to bounce ideas off of and walk beside instead of in front of.

Xanxus had caught Squalo’s eyes several times and both of them had had to carefully control their desire to grin like idiots.  Dino Cavallone had been hopeless back in the Academy, but this Dino might actually be worth Federico’s faith in him.

Not to mention that the Marius kid would most likely be their enforcer when the others went back to Japan.  Mammon had reported that they, (Adriano and Mammon’s brat), were going back to attend middle school in Japan.  This was actually good news for the Varia, as having them near the Young Lion’s brat also provided extra security, which freed up Xanxus from having to send out his men to keep an eye on things.

Contrary to popular belief, the CEDEF wasn’t actually that big of an organization in terms of ‘agents’.  They had a ton of informants and such, but as far as active, reliable agents there were only about two hundred of them at any given time.  While that number seemed high, it’s actually ridiculously small in comparison to the breadth of the CEDEF’s duties.

The CEDEF was responsible for verifying Intel and ferreting out bad Intel first and foremost, so that they could provide a clearer assessment to the Vongola in the event of a consultation.  However, their Intel gathering and verification job didn’t end in just Italy.  There were CEDEF agents all over the world, buried deep into other organizations at varying levels, who sent their reports back via Handlers and Info Drop Points.

As much as Xanxus liked to rag on him, Iemitsu Sawada’s job was anything but easy.

It didn’t excuse the fact that the man purposely buried his head in the sand on some issues.  Even as the CEDEF Boss, Iemitsu didn’t have the authority to post agents in Namimori without approval from the Vongola Boss, but the man would have been given leeway if he’d just asked instead of deciding that ignoring his family would somehow insulate them from danger.

So, having Adriano and Mammon’s brat in Namimori would make Xanxus’ life much, much easier.

It complicated matters slightly because Xanxus had wanted to recruit Adriano for the Varia’s WEATHER Squad, but Xanxus was privately of the thoughts that Marius was better suited for the Varia mentality.

If Xanxus was reading the situation correctly, Dino was going to be reclaiming a lot of the territory that the Cavallone had lost in the past few decades.  This would be advantageous to the Varia if Xanxus could get Dino to work with him and allow Xanxus to slip in Varia missions in the background while Dino was causing havoc and diverting all the attention. 

It was much easier for the Varia to do their work when everyone’s eyes were focused elsewhere.

So, if this mission went well and everything panned out, Xanxus would be keeping a much closer watch on the Cavallone.  If they continued to gain momentum and weren’t looking to be a threat to Federico, Xanxus might approach them about joint missions.  Borrowing Marius and the other brats could become part of the negotiations, which was still a win for Xanxus and the Varia.

Xanxus growled to himself as he realized that he was coming to terms with the fact that these trashes were going to be allies for the foreseeable future.

Well, as long as they cleared this mission together.  He might not have the full Vongola Primo Hyper Intuition, but his instincts were screaming at him.

This mission was going to suck.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

The hotel that the arts dealer was staying in was a middling-level one.  There were twenty-one floors, not including the basement, and all the suites from the fifteenth floor up were suites instead of single rooms.

The arts dealer was staying in a suite on the thirteenth floor, which made getting in much more annoying that it would have been as CEDEF had set up rooms both above and below the man’s assigned suite.

However, the Varia were the best for a reason and the group had Mammon, Shamal, and Blaise who were all talented Mist users. 

The plan was to split into three groups to begin with.  The first group to infiltrate the building- Team Gamma, consisting of Shamal, Romario, Bel, and Levi - would slip in through the side door and take out the CEDEF team stationed on the fourteenth floor, as that was the CEDEF team that was monitoring with the audio-visual surveillance of the target.  Once that team was had secured the suite, Romario and Levi would take over surveillance and make sure that the other CEDEF operatives didn’t realize that anything was amiss while also relaying information to the other two Varia-friendly teams.  Shamal and Bel would make their way to the hotel’s security stronghold and make sure to cover their tracks from that angle.

After Team Gamma secured the surveillance, Teams Alpha and Beta would come in through the front door.

They had hacked into the hotel’s mainframe and rented suites under aliases earlier in the afternoon, so the Teams would be coming in and checking in under those aliases.  Being as it was the end of summer, their cover aliases was that of an extended family of vacationers, so they could enter as a group- albeit under illusions- and casually make their way through the hotel after the check in process.

The plan would then have Team Beta- consisting of Dino, Marius, and Lussuria- splitting off from the group and taking out the CEDEF assault teams that were stationed on the twelfth floor, under the suite the arts dealer was renting.

Once the hotel’s surveillance room was secured, Shamal would backtrack to meet up with Team Beta, leaving Bel in the hotel’s security by himself until the CEDEF assault teams were taken care of.  After the twelfth floor was secure, Dino and Marius would head over to the hotel’s security to back up Bel while Shamal and Lussuria used their respective talents to keep the CEDEF assault teams neutralized.

After the CEDEF agents inside the building and the hotel’s security were under their control, Team Alpha would move in to take out the arts dealer.

The man had been noted to always be inside his suite by eight in the evening, so they were starting the operation at six- just after the hotel’s shift change and CEDEF’s final ready-check before operation’s ‘radio silence protocol’ went into effect.  (CEDEF was an organization of espionage and infiltration experts, but the Varia had the entire mission’s specifications, thanks to Lussuria and Mammon.  It was standard protocol on CEDEF operations like this to restrict all communications not critical to the operation about an hour or so before it went live.  This helped keep the communication channels clear in the event of Murphy’s Law rearing its ugly head.  Being this close to the home base, it was especially critical that Romario and Levi made sure that CEDEF didn’t suspect anything or they’d be up to their neck in CEDEF agents before the mission even started.)

So, Dino, Marius, and Bel would be manning hotel security.  Shamal and Lussuria would be keeping the CEDEF assault teams down, and Romario and Levi would be responsible for the CEDEF surveillance team and keeping everyone with the Varia-friendly teams up-to-date. 

That left Team Alpha with Xanxus, Squalo, Mammon, Adriano, and Blaise.  They had purposely arranged things so that Mammon and Blaise would be together, as those ‘in the know’ knew of the familial connection the two had, which made putting them together a ridiculously simple decision.  (On top of being related and sharing techniques or fighting styles, Mammon and Blaise could forge a link between their minds and communicate at the speed of thought.  Mammon, for the most part, kept Blaise’s Esper abilities restricted to allow him time for him to grow into them but for this mission he had loosened the seal enough to allow the mind link to form.)  as their opponent was a Mist who was inhabiting a body not their own, Xanxus had wanted to stack the deck as heavily in the Varia’s (and allies’) favor as he could.

With all the planning done, they scattered to go prepare themselves for the upcoming operation in their own, individual ways.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Reborn was sitting comfortably in his customized leather chair, pulling his mind back into the proper mindset to conduct his meeting, when the door opened and the Flamel Family Retainer walked in.

“Hello, thank you for meeting with me, may I have your name?”  Reborn asked politely after gesturing for the man to take a seat in the provided leather chair.

The room they were in had no windows, but there was a stunning mural along the wall to Reborn’s left, and bookcases on the wall to the right and on the one behind him.  The wall with the door held a few paintings, but was mostly empty.  The most prevalent color of the room was a warm cream, with red and black accents.  The desk was a made out of a solid-looking wood and was stained dark, and there were three leather chairs on the visitor’s side for guests to sit in, a small table, (which matched the desk), sitting between two of the chairs with a pitcher of ice water garnished with lemon sat, along with two elegant glasses.  The desk had been retrofitted for Reborn’s use, but for the most part the room was just a regular- though rather elegant- professional office.

The tall, middling-aged man gave Reborn a nod as he took a seat.  “I am Pecora, the Flamel Family Retainer.  Your letter mentioned having something that belonged to them?”

“Yes,” Reborn said, taping a sip of his espresso before continuing.  “I am the Advisor to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, and while my employer was at Hogwarts he stumbled across the Philosopher’s Stone.”

Pecora, to his credit, merely looked mildly interested.  “Oh?  Do you mind telling me how such a thing occurred?”

Reborn obliged him, telling the man about the obstacle course that had been protecting the Stone.  Of course Reborn spun the tale in such a way that it sounded as if Adriano merely stumbled across the situation by accident and then continued just to try to find his way out.  Pecora was an excellent polite audience, but gave away very little overall.

“So you see, we’re been trying to get into touch with them ever since to return the Stone, but we have recently stumbled across a situation that would benefit from their expertise, if they wouldn’t mind.”  Reborn concluded.

“Well, my employers would most likely be interested in hearing your proposition, if nothing else.”  Pecora told him amiably.  “What did you have in mind?”

“Let me return the Stone first.”  Reborn said firmly.  “We don’t want to give the impression that we’re holding it hostage.”

Reborn hopped up and walked over to the wall safe, (one of the desk arms was the perfect height for him to walk along it to get to the lock.  The door swung outwards, so you could see inside.  The safe was actually a cover for the weapons cache that was hidden behind the false walls, but it was perfect for this meeting.), fiddled with it for a moment, and then swung the door open.

He felt smug when he heard the man’s breath catch.  Gotcha.

The Philosopher’s Stone was inside, and he retrieved it, but the Stone was laying inside Hufflepuff’s Cup, which was sitting inside the circle of Ravenclaw’s Diadem, and Slytherin’s Locket was resting just in front of them.

Reborn swung the door to the safe shut, and padded back towards his chair, “Here you are, Pecora.”  The Arcobaleno said breezily as he held the Stone out for the man to take, “One Philosopher’s Stone, safe and sound.”

The man reached up and took the Stone, but his eyes were still locked onto the safe.

Before Reborn could truly celebrate his successful manipulation of the situation, though, the door burst open and a familiar face stood in the doorway.

“Hello, Uncle Reborn!”  Aria chirped brightly, despite the gun he had pointed at her.  The woman’s blue eyes fell on the Flamel Family Retainer, “And hello to you, Talbot!”

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

The plan had gone fairly smoothly, but then Murphy’s Law reared its ugly head as Team Alpha converged on the target.

Xanxus and Squalo were covering the door, and Mammon, Adriano and Blaise were covering the window of the room they’d corned him in.  The arts dealer was down, the possessing entity having abandoned the man when Xanxus had shot him shortly after they’d stormed into the room.

Thankfully Mammon had gotten his barrier-thing up in time.  Xanxus didn’t know how exactly it was constructed, as the Mist Arcobaleno was techy about that kind of thing, but the entity- it looked like a badly animated black cloud, honestly- had clearly tried to flee and had been rebuffed.

Xanxus had fired a few Wrath Flame-wreathed bullets at it, but they’d just passed through harmlessly.

Unfortunately, the entity had rushed Adriano immediately after, and possessed him before they could react.

Adriano’s howl was one of unmitigated agony.

The dark haired teen stumbled forwards and fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he clutched at his head desperately.

“Get out!”  He shrieked through his tears.  “Get out, get out, GET. OUT.”

Xanxus leveled his gun at the brat, but hesitated.  The whole reason why they hadn’t just sniped the arts dealer bastard to begin with was because it wouldn’t kill the damn Mist scum, and Xanxus really didn’t want to be responsible for killing Reborn’s son.

Especially if killing the kid wouldn’t kill the trash that was currently wearing him for a human-costume.

And, well, Xanxus kind of liked the little shit.  Dammit.

C’mon, brat.  Show me that you’re Quality.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Adriano had seen the dark wisp coming towards him, but he hadn’t been able to dodge in time.

Then he felt it- the sycophantic interloper who was trying to take his body over from the inside. 

(Don’t worry I’ll take care of you.  The velvety voice crooned as it tried to settle in the metaphorical driver’s seat.  Just let it happen and everything will be alright, dear.)

It was like a cold burn spreading through his body as his Flame-induced empathy bombarded him with thoughts and feelings and memory fragments.  Whoever this had been wasn’t even remotely sane anymore, the small rational part of his mind noted, as the rest of his mind was wailing in agony from the sensory overload and wrongness that was seeping into him.

Adriano had never been in this much pain before, but it wasn’t a physical pain- it was all mental, emotional, and spiritual.  He was screaming, he knew he was, but he couldn’t stop.

He wasn’t giving up though.

The teen’s mind began to slip away as the interloper began to win, but Adriano refused to give up.

Adriano dug deep in to his reiki and firmly grasped his Flames.  The bastard was trying to sync with his Flames so Adriano would be unable to use them, but that wasn’t going to happen. 

Adriano threw himself against his adversary.  “Get out!”  He snarled furiously trying to dredge up more willpower and a miracle as he struggled.

His mind was wavering, he could feel it starting to tilt precariously, but he struggled for a light, for something to hold on to-

Papá.  Shamal.  Kyouya.  Marius.  Tetsu.  Blaise.

“Get out!”

1.   Hayato.  Dino.  Romario.  Madam Cassi.  Lady Cissa.  Sirius.

“Get out!”

The Hogwarts DC.  The Namimori DC.  The Cavallone.  House Potter.

“GET. OUT.”

James and Lily Potter.  They’d died for him.

The necklace that he’d always worn, since the day his Papa had given it to him, suddenly flared- a soothing heat against the icy burn of the trespasser.

(You can do this, sweetheart.)    (We’re here for you, Bambi!)

Adriano’s world went white as he managed to push the trespasser out, and then he slipped into unconsciousness.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

For a long heart-stopping moment, it seemed like the entity was winning.

Adriano let out one more wounded howl and something from inside his shirt flared, (a necklace?), before something like parental fury filled the air.  It wasn’t but a heartbeat after that that the entity was ejected from Adriano, and the teen fell limp.

The black Mist coalesced into a person.  A person who was bent over gasping for breath and seemed wounded, but a person.

“Boss, that looks like-“  Squalo started uncertainly.

“-Daemon Spade.  Mist Guardian to Primo and Secondo.”  Xanxus finished grimly.

The blue-haired apparition straightened and looked at the occupants of the room with a mockingly gentle smile.  “Very good!”  He purred appreciatively.  “You’ll make an excellent Boss.”

“I am a Boss.”  Xanxus retorted acerbically.

“Oh, no.”  The apparition- this Daemon guy, apparently- replied with a Cheshire grin.  “I meant Vongola Boss- the Decimo, to be precise.”

Xanxus snarled wrathfully, “Federico is going to be Decimo.” 

The man’s playful demeanor slipped.  “That fool will ruin the Vongola.”  He spat viciously.

The side of Xanxus’ guns glowed.  “Federico will be the greatest Boss the Vongola has ever had.” Xanxus responded fiercely.

“That boy will ruin us.”  The man sneered scathingly.

“VOI!  Shouldn’t you be dead?”  Squalo asked bluntly.

The man’s lip curled in distaste, “In a way I am.  After Giotto’s foolishness reached unprecedented heights, I staged a coup and put a real Boss in charge.  When my body became a hindrance, I discarded it.  So in a way, I am dead.”  The man laughed mockingly.  “You whelps could never understand my devotion to the Vongola.”

Xanxus’ brows drew together.  “What coup?  Secondo was feared and they didn’t agree on how the Vongola should operate, so Primo moved to Japan, but Primo named him his successor.”

“Of course you think that!”  The man laughed superiorly.  “I made sure to obscure the actual events so that no one would fall for Primo’s weak philosophies.  They have no place in the real world.  It’s ben me, behind the scenes all these years that has kept the Vongola great.”

There was a disturbingly fanatical light in the man’s eyes, and not even in a good way.  This man had long gone over the edge of sanity, even by the Varia standards.  Xanxus growled, “Bullshit.  You might have been working behind the scenes, but the Vongola is strong because we’re Family.  You’ve been doing more harm than good, you trashy relic!”

“Hm, how disappointing.  No matter, I’ll just take over your friend there and make you see sense.”

“Like Hell!”

“VOI!  I’ll cut you to shreds, scum!”

The man’s face turned stormy and he opened his mouth to reply but Blaise cut him off.  “Do you have a thing for bondage or just underage boys?”

Daemon turned swung around to look at Blaise, his expression entirely shocked.  “What?  The man said bemusedly.

“Oh, well, you know, it just seems like it.”  Blaise replied cheerfully, a deceptively serene expression on his face.  “I mean, Adriano was under aged, too.  And then there was the whole ‘make you see sense’ thing.  I was just making an observation!”

Daemon’s expression went from amused to disgusted and then settled back on amused, but before he could make a snarky comeback chains materialized.

The chains wrapped around him, and pierced through him, holding him in place.

“Gah!”  Daemon yowled.  “W-what is this?”

“Mammon Chains.”  The Mist Arcobaleno replied blandly.  “Burn him with your Wrath Flames, Boss.  With my Chains piercing him, you should be able to.”

Xanxus’ grin turned wicked.  “With pleasure.”  The Varia Boss stalked over to the trapped Mist.  “Die, trash!”  He declared as his Wrath Flames sprung to life on his hands.

The hands were inches away from the man when he gathered enough wits to speak.  “Wait!  Don’t you want to be the Vongola Boss?” 

Xanxus’ Wrath-coated hands came closer.

“Don’t you want to know who your father is?”

Xanxus froze.  “What?”

“Boss, I can’t hold these forever!”  Mammon called, the strain in his voice readily apparent.  “Even with me using Blaise’s Flames they won’t last much longer!”

Daemon smiled sharply, “That’s right.  It was my intervention that kept her remotely sane.  I know- and if you’ll let me go I’ll tell you.”

“Boss!”  Squalo shouted in the background.

“I can’t hold them any longer!”  Mammon cried as the chains began to dissipate.

Xanxus’ expression shifted.  “Go to hell, trash.”

His Wrath Flames engulfed the man.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

“Talbot?”  Reborn said incredulously.

Aria smiled cheerily and sauntered into the room, shutting the door behind her and settling in one of the leather chairs.  “Yes!”  She replied brightly.  “That’s the name I know him by, anyways.”

Pecora- Talbot- smiled lopsidedly, “Well, not much point in hiding it now.  I am known to the Vongola by that name, yes.”

Reborn was entirely thrown off balance.

Aria’s smile turner sharper, “Well, gentlemen, I have a proposition for you!”  She produced the Mare Rings from her pocket, all seven of them were suspended on a chain, and held them out towards Talbot.  “I’d like you to make believable fakes of these and reforge the real ones.”  She then turned to Reborn, “And I’d like you to find people to hold onto the real Mare Rings for me.”

“What?”  Reborn asked somewhat dumbly as he tried to wrap his head around the last few minutes.

―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―~~―

Chapter Text

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Xanxus poured his Wrath Flames out for a few more moments, wanting to be absolutely certain that they had entirely eradicated the spiritual form of the First and Second Vongola Generation Mist Guardian.  In the privacy of his own mind he decided that after all this shit was over he was going to commission Mammon to negotiate with the Sun Arcobaleno and have something commissioned that could identify any other crazy-ass Mists who decided to ‘leave their body behind’ or some shit.

Well.  He thought as he slowly reduced the amount of Flames that he was pushing outwards.  That is assuming that I survive the shitty Sun Arcobaleno’s wrath.  He is a scary son-of-a-bitch.

Behind him Mammon and Blaise had rolled Adriano over and were checking his vitals.  They- Mammon was still using Blaise’s Flames as his technique had taken quite the toll on him, making a spirit tangible was not exactly an easy task- had Constructed a stretcher and were carefully maneuvering Adriano onto it when Xanxus finally turned around.

“Alright.”  Xanxus snapped tersely to those in the room and on the com lines- Varia Quality meant not screaming like idiots over the com (communication, aka the headsets) lines while in mid-operation- as he swept his eyes over the room.  “Mammon.”  The Mist Arcobaleno turned towards the Varia Boss.  Seeing that he had the Mist’s attention Xanxus tried to inject as much authority into his voice as possible.  “CEDEF is due in twenty minutes, less if they noticed the disturbances.  You and your brat need to cover us back to the CEDEF communications quarter so we can begin the extraction.”  Xanxus’ red eyes burned with resolve as he weathered the stares. Hell, he could practically feel the discontent from both Mammon and the brat.  “You two are our cover.  You have to make sure they suspect nothing or all of this will be in vain.”  He specified firmly, trying to make sure to hammer his point home, they did not have much time left!

Blaise’s lips melted into a tight line as he gazed at Adriano, but he balled up his fists and rose smoothly to his feet.  “You will see him safely back to the rendezvous point?”  He stated more than asked.

Xanxus smirked in grim approval.  “I will.  Shark!”  He rounded on Squalo who had been quiet and covering the door until that moment.  It always surprised people how patient Squalo could be when he was working with competent people.  It never failed to amuse Xanxus.  “Go and switch with the Doctor.  He was among the last, but we will manage without him.  Tell him to get his ass to the hotel.”

“On it, Boss!”  The Varia Rain snapped, swiftly sliding out the door and calling over the com lines that the hallways were clear a moment later.

Blaise gave Adriano one last, desperate look after Mammon gently tapped him on the shoulder.  While Mammon arranged the body of the Arts Dealer to be slightly more in line with the conclusions they wanted CEDEF to draw, Blaise exchanged a hard look with Xanxus before he nodded curtly.  The two left the room shortly thereafter.

Xanxus let a short exhale of relief pass over his lips before he dug into the Mist part of his Flames and placed an illusion that made him seem unimportant over the two of them.  The great thing about being a Sky and having access to the Vongola Famiglia’s information on Flames was being able to pull out the individual Element Flames that made up the Sky Flame.  Few ever mastered the technique, but Xanxus was the Varia Boss for a damn reason.  After lifting the brat off of the stretcher and abusing his Flame advantages to get the kid on his back and secured, he used a thread of Wrath Flames to disintegrate the thing.  With a final sweep of the room and a few more little adjustments to help cover their asses, the Varia Boss and his passenger left the room.

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“I want you to find people to wear the real Mare Rings while Talbot forges me a believable set of fakes, and the fake Mare Rings would come with me.  The real Mare Rings will have to be reforged before they go to whoever you find to hold them, of course, or someone will figure out my ruse and it will all be for naught.”  Aria repeated slowly, handing the rings over to the white-haired man when he gestured to them.

“Yes you said that.”  Reborn groused irritably.  “But why do you want that to happen?”

Aria’s eyes darkened and she tilted her chin defiantly.  “I am not my mother, Uncle Reborn.”  She told him firmly, wincing internally at the slight flinch that statement pulled from the normally composed Sun Arcobaleno.  Aria sighed and dropped her gaze to her lap, looking down at her hands as they curled into fists on her thighs.  “I am not happy to merely accept the fate that is handed to me.  I feel the need to fight.  And I just- I want-“  Aria blinked several times and tried to force herself to continue in a level voice.  “I just want to care out my own fate, Uncle Reborn.”

“Hm.”  Talbot hummed into the heavy silence that fell after Aria had spoken, having carefully inspected all seven of the Mare Rings.  The old man glanced at Aria before pinning Reborn with a stern look.  “If you give me those treasures-“  The old man waved his hand towards the Locket, Diadem, and Cup.  “I will take on this job.”

Aria’s breath caught and she turned cautiously hopeful eye on Reborn.

Reborn, meanwhile, was insanely curious as to why Talbot wanted the treasures.  The glances the man had been throwing at the safe had contained more than purely professional interest.  While Reborn was loath to part with his scheme to gain Talbot’s help- and the Flamels’ help by extension- a voice that sounded suspiciously like his Little Sunshine whispered that Aria deserved a chance at happiness.  Without the Mare Rings actively siphoning off her Flames, the Sky Pacifier would not be quite as much of a burden, giving Aria many more years before the sickness that had eventually taken Luce took her as well.

I’m going to shoot that annoying noble son of mine.  Reborn grumbled inside his mind.  “The Diadem now, the Cup and the Locket when the Rings are completed.”  He said, quickly adding.  “I do not trust anyone easily, and my son nearly died retrieving them.”

Aria gasped and Talbot’s eyes widened even as Reborn cursed himself and itched to shoot something.  I did not mean to tell them that!

“What.”  Talbot said uncertainly.  “Do you mean by that?”

Reborn resigned himself to actually being honest for once and launched into the actual story of what had happened at Hogwarts.  He knew that Aria had a Guardian who possessed magic, so he was not actually breaking any laws by including her in the conversation.

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Dino sat by Adriano’s bedside, deep in thought.  It was the day after the Operation with the Varia and it was just him and Adriano in the room at the moment, the others finally sleeping, debriefing or in meetings at the moment.  Romario was just outside the door as he and Dino were due to meet Federico Vongola and the Varia at one of the Vongola meeting points shortly.  Dino, however, had wanted a few minutes with his Sun Guardian.  It was obvious to him, now, that there were many things that he had taken for granted or overlooked while he had been denying his position as the Chiavarone Boss, and even now he had failed on of his people.  Even worse, one of his Guardians.

Dino yelped as a small foot impacted his head, knocking him off the adjacent hotel room bed he had been sitting on.  “Ow.”  He muttered as he rubbed the sore spot, waiting for more violence from his psychotic tutor.  After all, it was Dino’s fault that Adriano was hurt and Adriano was Reborn’s son and-

Reborn was suddenly standing directly in front of Dino, eyes dark and fathomless as he started at the blonde.  “Do you think yourself better than me, Pipsqueak-Dino?”  The tiny man asked faux-casually as he petted Leon.

“N-no.”  Dino murmured sullenly.  “I mean, I have gotten better, but I am nowhere near your level, Reborn.”

“Then why.”  Reborn bit out menacingly as Leon shifted into an alarmingly familiar green gun which was then shoved forcefully under Dino’s chin, causing the blonde to tip his head back and allowing the barrel to rest snugly against the tender flesh of his throat.  “Are you sulking?”  Reborn did not let the blonde speak before he continued, voice dark with a thousand unspoken promises of pain if Dino interrupted.

Dino wisely kept his mouth shut.

“That thing.”  Reborn sneered and pressed the barrel a little lighter to Dino’s throat.  “Made it through Vongola’s security.  Made it through me.  What makes you think any of your preparations could have been better than mine.”  It was a question that wasn’t and by the time Reborn was finished he voice had pitched much lower than should be possible for the body he was occupying as his shadowed writhed and twisted into the silhouette of a tall man instead of that of a baby.

Dino was unashamed of admitting that he truly feared his tutor at that moment.  Not because he thought Reborn would actually harm him, Dino Chiavarone, but because he was afraid that his tutor was seeing the thing that had hurt Adriano in Dino’s place and the blonde was terrified of what Reborn would do if his tutor’s legendary control finally snapped.

A few endless moments passed between Reborn and his student.  It felt like an eternity to Dino.  The killing intent pervaded the room and made the very air heavy as dark whispers of violence, mayhem, and menace swirled through the shadows, growing louder and more vicious the longer the intensity lingered.

Then Adriano moaned loudly and began to stir and the killing intent and dark whispers vanished as Reborn allowed Leon to shift back and vaulted up onto the bed where he settled down beside his son.

“Leave us.”  The Sun Arcobaleno commanded.

Just as Dino reached the door Reborn’s voice stopped him once more.  “Dino.”

“Yes, Reborn.” Dino answered without turning around.

“You did well.  I shall expect nothing less than this level of perfection during future operations.”

Dino fought desperately against the urge to cry.  “Thanks Reborn.”  He managed to get out rather hoarsely, as he quickly opened the door and slipped out into the hall.

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Adriano had been having a rather pleasant dream.  One filled with animals and a forest and birds and bright splashes of color that seemed far more vibrant than anything he had actually seen in his waking hours.  He knew he was dreaming, but he just did not want to leave.  Everything was warm and bright and beautiful here!

He had lain down in a grassy clearing, giggling stupidly at a family of mice that seemed to be waging a war against an army of squirrels, drifting slowly off to sleep, (in a dream that he knew was a dream), when suddenly everything changed.

The colors ran and the animals morphed into monsters even as the sky darkened and a storm began to tear the forest apart with winds and lightning and merciless rains.

Papá.  Adriano suddenly thought clearly, as his memories came rushing back in an instant.  Papá.  Shamal.  Blaise.  Dino.  Marius.  Kyouya.  Romario.  Tetsu.

The more names that flooded through him, the more intense his desire to wake up became even as the sky began to tear his dream-world asunder.

Then, between one thought and the next, his dream shattered and he was suddenly aware of his body and the pain he was in, as he clawed his way to consciousness.

Adriano drew in a few last heaping gulps of air before he slowly worked his eye open, noting the familiar presence of his Papá at his side.  “Papá?”  He asked, his throat stretchy as he blinked his eyes rapidly and tried to get his leadened limbs to cooperate.

“One of these days, Adriano.”  Reborn told his son darkly.  “I am actually going to shoot you for being stupidly noble.”

Adriano smiled sleepily and- with far more effort than normal- turned his head towards the small body beside him.  “But it will only hurt for a little while and you love the results I get.”  Adriano told the man with a smile curling its way onto his face.  “I love you Papá.”

Reborn huffed and began to card gentle fingers through Adriano’s hair, prompting Leon to scamper down Reborn’s arm and butt his head against Adriano’s cheek affectionately before the little chameleon sauntered over and made himself comfortable in a patch of hair near Adriano’s ear.

“Still.”  The man said severely, though his tone was betrayed by his gentle actions.  “One of these days I am going to shoot you.”

Adriano huffed laugh, green eyes sparkling with mirth.  “Of course, Papá.  I would expect nothing less.”

Reborn grunted irritably, but a reluctant smile tugged at his lips.

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Three days later, Adriano and Blaise were ready to head back to Japan.  Actually, it was the brand-new Chiavarone jet that Dino had bought specifically for the frequent trips that Adriano and Blaise would be making- or Dino and Romario, inversely- with Reborn acting as the pilot.

The jet had two sets of ‘traditional’ plane seats that faced each other just past the pilot’s cabin.  After those there was a long couch that was rimmed in black leather and upholstered with white material and lots of cushioning.  There were lots of little throw pillows around and on it.  A television and entertainment center lined the other side, set up to be used for recreation or business.  Past that section were two l-shaped desks with comfortable office chairs.  There was sort of a dividing wall after that, with a folding door for privacy, which was just empty space at the moment, and then the bathroom which was rather large for an aircraft.  Dino had told them to invest in some highly comfortable futons when they got to Japan that they would use as beds for overnight flights, at least until technology and magic could safely be used together and they could use magic to make more space.

Reborn had declared himself the safety inspector for that endeavor, so they were not looking for that to happen any time soon.

Therefore they planned on buying the comfiest, lushest futon they could find.

Still, it was one of the few times Reborn had not been somewhere on Adriano’s person lately.  His Papá barely let him use the bathroom by himself!

“I still cannot believe that Marius is going to be staying with the Varia.”  Blaise said over the rim of his water glass.  The lanky Italian was sprawled on couch, languidly sipping at a glass of water as he watched Adriano work.

“Right?”  Adriano said, looking up from where he was bent over some paperwork at one desks.  “I think he is actually going to do well there, though, we should make sure that they understand that they cannot keep him.”

Blaise snorted into his drink and placed the glass back into one of the conveniently-placed cup holders.    “I really cannot see Dino allowing that to happen.”

Adriano laughed and stretched, smoothly rising from his place, securing the chair, and walking over to drop on the opposite end of the couch from Blaise.  “I am sort-of worried about Shamal, though.”

“I wouldn’t be.”  Blaise replied, his eyebrows tiling upwards in amusement.  “He was a whole world of medicine to conquer and a reason to get close to all those attractive Mist ladies so he can do ‘research’.”  Blaise wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Prat.”  Adriano huffed, chucking a near-by throw pillow at his friend in exasperation.

“Honest.”

“Stuff it, Zabini.”

Blaise opened his mouth to make a, no doubt spectacular, comeback, but Reborn’s voice came through the speakers announcing their arrival in Japan.

“Well.”  Adriano huffed as they made their way to the seats just past the cabin and buckled themselves in.  “Here is to surviving the fallout.  Kyouya’s going to be so angry.”

Blaise, the traitor, simply laughed at the pessimistic look on Adriano’s face.

Adriano sulked as the plane began its descent.

He so was not looking forward to Kyouya’s tonfas.  Or Tetsu’s fussing.  Let alone Tsuna.

Adriano moaned miserably as Blaise began to laugh even harder as the plane touched down.

I am so doomed.

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“So-“  Reborn started once everyone had gathered in his son’s rather tiny bedroom.   Kyouya was glowering darkly at Adriano and Tsuna looked as if he was about three seconds away from wrapping ‘Karu-nii in layers of cotton and stuffing him in a padded room.  Hikaru had gotten them all gathered without him getting beat to a pulp by promising a very interesting story.

Personally, Hikaru held no hope that such a story would keep Kyouya from meting out much-deserved, (in the dark-haired Hibari’s opinion, anyways), punishment for being wounded- and leaving to begin with, really. 

Kyouya did not deal well with unexpected things.  Especially when they resulted in Hikaru being injured.

So, Blaise, Hayato, Tsuna, Tetsu, Kyouya, Kyou-chan, and Hikaru- who had Reborn ensconced firmly on his lap- were all sitting on pillows in Hikaru’s bedroom over Asuka-obaa-chan’s shop, waiting for Hikaru to regale them with his tale.

“I met with Pecora, the Flamel Family Retainer and Aria- the Giglio Nero Boss and my pseudo-niece, crashed our meeting.”  Reborn sipped on his espresso as he eyed Tsuna, who was slowly inching closer to Hikaru, rather grumpily.  Reborn had just gotten his son back after he had nearly died, and less than a year ago his son had been kidnapped.  Reborn was not giving up his spot on Hikaru’s lap.  Not even for the rather fluffy little brat who adored his son.

“Many things happened, but the most interesting thing is that Pecora is better known to me as Talbot- the eccentric, but formidable smith who forged the Vongola and Giglio Nero Famiglia rings.”  Reborn gaze then a very serious look.  “Those rings have helped keep the Famiglia in power for more than two centuries.  They are that powerful.  Keep that in mind.”

“Wow.”  Hayato whispered as he scribbled some notes.

Reborn nodded in agreement.  “Yes, well, Aria had a request for Talbot and I was surprised that he agreed.  There was a locket, a cup, and an old-fashioned tiara that Adriano recovered when he went to Hogwarts that I used as collateral for Aria’s request, though I had not originally planned to do so.  That is where the interesting story comes into play.”  Reborn took another sip of his espresso and enjoyed the expectant and exasperated looks he was receiving.

He did so love to mess with these brats.  He spent a moment wishing that Kyouya had sat in his line of sight instead of in the window where he would not be ‘crowded’.

“Apparently, Talbot has a personal connection to those items as they were forged by his father.  Once Aria left he told me about it, and gave me permission to tell Adriano, since Adi is the reason why the items were recovered and/or purified.”

“But the Founders lived over a thousand years ago, Papá!”  Hikaru exclaimed, sitting up a little straighter and causing Reborn coffee to jostle dangerously.

The Sun Arcobaleno poked his son rather pointedly in the stomach.  “Be still, chair.”  He ordered and gave a quelling glare to the rest of the brats.  “This information is to be kept to yourselves, am I understood?”  At the ardent nods Reborn nodded in satisfaction and settled back against Adriano.  “As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted.”

Hikaru nervously laughed and stayed extra still.

“According to Talbot, his mother was a rather long-lived woman named Sepira.”  Reborn told them after he allowed the tension to build a little.    “Salazar Slytherin apparently did not leave Hogwarts as part of a conflict, but was tasked with being the Cloud Arcobaleno as part of his generations’ incarnation of the Arcobaleno.  The other Founders concocted the story of an argument to cover up the truth- as they could not explain about Flames to anyone else- and Slytherin left the school.  Shortly thereafter, Talbot was brought to his father by his mother.  Evidently Sepira and Slytherin had a romantic relationship shortly before Slytherin’s transformation into an Arcobaleno. 

“Sepira stayed with them until Talbot was roughly five years of age before she left them, only returning to visit every-so-often.  Sepira had a cousin by the name of Kawahira, who often visited the father and son in the later years.  As far as Talbot knows, they were the last two of their people, but both of them were rather tight-lipped about their pasts.”

Reborn shifted a bit and took another sip from his coffee cup.  Leon apparently had become bored with sleeping on Reborn’s fedora and the little chameleon scampered off of the fedora to curl up on Reborn’s lap so the Arcobaleno could pet him.  “Slytherin was a Potions Master and a renowned Alchemist.  In fact, he had made the cup, locket, and tiara as well as creating an entirely unique metal that his friend’s sword was to be forged from.  Slytherin was also a Master Craftsman, though he favored items as opposed to weapons.

“Throughout his life after his induction to the ranks of the Arcobaleno, Slytherin and Talbot created many items, potions, and elixirs as they attempted to free Slytherin from his Curse.  The Philosopher’s Stone- which was stored at Hogwarts and Adriano rescued- was one of those creations.”

“Do you ever have a normal day, Hikaru-sempai?”  Hayato asked somewhat doubtfully.

“Once.”  Hikaru told the boy rather cheekily.  “I think it was a Tuesday.”

“Anyways.”  Reborn pushed forward as he glowered the snickers into submission.  “One day Slytherin disappeared, leaving only a cryptic message behind.  A few weeks later Kawahira came to see Talbot, who informed him that Slytherin had perished.  After that Talbot became largely disconnected from the world, choosing to live in solitude on the small farm he had shared with his father.  The two had travelled the world in their quest to find an alternative to the Arcobaleno Curse, but the farm is where they spent most of their lives.  He had apparently only decided to help the Vongola and the Giglio Nero at the request of his mother and by that time his father’s most cherished creations had been lost to time.”

Reborn swirled his coffee as he looked over the assembled children.  “Talbot told me all of this so that I would understand the significance of giving him the items.  Pernelle Flamel, he informed me, was one of his half-sisters and Nicholas is a descendent of Talbot’s mother’s cousin, Kawahira.”  Reborn tipped his head back to look at his son.  “He said that he would speak with them about assisting us on Victoriè Isle, but he thought that they would enjoy the challenge.”

Hikaru let out a relieved breath.  “Good.  We could definitely use their expertise.”

The man-trapped-in-a-child’s-body nodded in agreement.  “At any rate, before too much longer there will be some rings that Talbot and Aria asked me to keep safe.  After speaking with Federico, we decided that in order to fulfill Aria’s request, we would do some shuffling among ourselves.”

“Huh?”  Seemed to be general feeling of the group.

Reborn sighed quietly, but tried to explain without revealing too much.  “Among the Vongola the rings that Talbot forged for Primo were divided between the Main House and the CEDEF- the Consulenza Esterna Della Famiglia- which functions as an external information gathering advisory branch to the Main House.  While taking recent incidents into consideration, Federico has decided that the half-rings that the CEDEF currently hold will come to my control; while the rings that Aria requested I keep safe will be redirected to him and his Guardians.  The switch will not happen until December, when Talbot will be doing some ‘maintenance’ on them.”

“Why do they have to have holders?”  Tetsu asked, his brow contracted in confusion.  “Why can’t we just put them in a box somewhere?”

“The rings are likened to the Arcobaleno Curse in that they need to be held by someone who has Flames, preferably by a Flame Active person.”  Reborn explained patiently.  “They need a constant source of power to maintain their unique abilities.  I have no desire to lose them as they are quite powerful heirlooms, though their true abilities are closely guarded secrets, most of which I have not been apprised of just yet.”

Reborn was focusing on Tsuna and Hayato, who needed a bit more thorough explanation and some instruction about how important it was going to be for them to work on their Flames, so he missed the sharp look Adriano sent Tetsu.  Tetsu caught the look and nodded slightly in acquiescence, even as turned his eyes towards Kyouya who gave him a tight, expectant nod.

By the time Reborn refocused on the group as a whole, the exchange was over and Tetsu was scribbling away in his trusty notebook. 

“Now that we’ve had story time, let’s all yell at Adriano for being stupidly noble and getting wounded.  Again.”  Reborn chirped cheerily, prompting Adriano to groan miserably and the others to gleefully join in, Kyouya whacking him over the head with his tonfa a few times as an opener.

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Pernelle Flamel- she preferred Ellè, personally- was many things.  A Beauxbatons graduate, Ellè was an Artisan Enchantress as well as a highly distinguished Runesmistress.  Ellè was also a Master of Blood Magicks, though that title had been left off of her for at least three centuries due to the Ministries branding the subject as ‘Dark’.   Nicholas Flamel- or Nick, as he preferred- had several distinguished titles that complemented his lovely wife’s titles.  Also a graduate of Beauxbatons, he had obtained the distinguished titles of Artisan Alchemist, which of course required a Master’s Certificate in Potions, as well as being an Artisan Arithmancer, and a Ritual Master.  Both Flamels were quite accomplished in Herbology and Magical Creatures out of sheer necessity, but neither had bothered to gain an official title in those areas.

Of course, they had about a thousand other smaller titles, but Enchanting and Alchemy were their passions.  Everything else that they did and accomplished was mostly to support the two things.

Ellè was Talbot’s only child, and Nick was the only Apprentice Talbot ever bothered to take on.  It had been Talbot who had provided the couple with their pseudo-immortality.

Ellè had always figured that her eccentric father had gotten relatively lonely, and that was why he had taken Nick on as an Apprentice and provided them with the Elixir.  They had been nearly three hundred before they had managed to recreate the thing, even with instructions and the Philosopher’s Stone already at hand!

Still, Ellè and Nick always quietly worried for Talbot as the eccentric man was prone to disappearing on personal expeditions for years at a time, only to come home to his farm and isolate himself while he experimented and tinkered until he either accomplished something towards his ulitimate goal or once again failed his self-appointed quest.

Neither Ellè nor Nick had ever discovered what the quest was, but it was Talbot’s lifelong goal to achieve it, they knew that much.

So it was understandable that when Talbot came back to them from retrieving the Philosopher’s Stone they’d loaned Albus- he had told them he was experimenting with an elixir that could actually cleanse the Hogwarts dungeons, which had needed a desperate cleansing but there was no extra money in the school budget for such a thing- more excited that they had seen well- ever. 

They were understandably concerned.

“Father, is everything alright?”  Ellè asked him as the elder man nearly bounced into the Flamel’s sitting room.

Talbot snatched his daughter up and twirled her around excitedly.  “Ellè, my dear!  It’s so exciting!”  Talbot dipped the bemused woman and then allowed her to spin out of his hold before he bounced over to the sofa and threw himself down on it.  “The people who recovered the Stone also had some of my father’s greatest works!  And then young Aria made her request and-“  Talbot broke off there and leapt back to his feet and grinned widely at them.  “How to the two of you feel about assisting some younglings as they recover an island that had been lost to the world for nearly as long as you two have been alive!”

Nick blinked owlishly a few times as he tried to process his father-in-law’s uncharacteristic exuberance and the information.  He shared a quick, lost glance with his lovely wife and was somewhat satisfied to see an equally lost- if not softly happy- look on her face as well.  “Master?”

Talbot waved his hand negligently.  “How many times have I told you to call me Father, Nick?”  the man twirled excitedly and pinned the two Flamels with an excited look.  “Allow me to explain what has happened……”

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It had been nearly three weeks since the operation the Varia had performed with the assistance of the Tenth Gen Chiavarone, and roughly a week since Adriano and the Sun Arcobaleno- along with Mammon’s brat- had gone back to Japan.  As a show of good faith and a way to forge ties between the Tenth Generation of the Vongola and the Chiavarone, Marius Potter had been left with the Varia. 

Of course, Shamal was checking in on the brat from time to time and Adriano’s Godfather was also assisting the Varia WEATHER Squad as well as keeping an eye on the kid.

Understanding and appreciating the caution, Xanxus had stuck the brat in the Archives Hall.  Now, normally the Archives Hall was as organized as humanely possible as the Hall was under the control of Squalo’s SIC, Divulio.  Unfortunately with Xanxus having been incapacitated and the Varia having been under a severe amount of scrutiny, one of Ottabio’s slimy little sycophants had been put in charge of the Hall.  As a result there was an extreme backlog of paperwork, especially with the ongoing Operation Eradication among the other Varia operations currently trying to play catch-up now that Xanxus was back and the Varia had cleaned house.

Missions Intel was managing, but the Hall needed to be straightened out yesterday and at the moment there simply was no Varia operatives to spare.

So partially as a test and partially out of sheer necessity the brat had been handed a Master Codex of the various codes the Varia Divisions used when submitting reports and shoved into the Hall.

Now, nearly a week later Xanxus and Squalo had more than three seconds in between missions and meetings to check on the brat.

“Hey, Shitty Boss, you think the brat has actually made some headway?”  Squalo asked as they made their way towards the Hall. 

It should be notes that the Hall was situated in between Mist Division and Rain Division.  The two Divisions being perfect for disguising and setting up protections for the Hall.  Also, Storm Division had a habit of having free-for-alls every Saturday and even Varia-Quality paper could be Disintegrated.  Cloud Division used to be in Rain Division’s spot, but there was nothing worse than a Propagation fight getting out of hand and one of the damn Clouds multiplying the paperwork exponentially.  Sun Division was surprisingly devious about playing ‘pranks’ that resulted in the inks running off the pages or blending together as the single properties of the inks were Activated and twisted.  The less access Lightning Division had to paperwork for when they inevitably had a snotty, messy breakdown, the better.

The Varia were not stupid enough to put their Intel into a digital system that could possibly be hacked.  Until Mammon couldn’t manipulate it remotely, the Lightning and Research and Development Divisions would keep working on making Varia Quality Servers and Computer Systems.

Until that happened, everything was still done via paper.

Xanxus grunted noncommittally as they came to the Hall door and he scanned his access card with the Flame-Reader Signature attached before a keypad popped out and Xanxus entered his Varia Access Code.  “We can only hope, Shark-trash.  We need to get this place squared away yesterday.”

Squalo’s lips compressed into a thin line, but he only nodded tersely as a reply.

The door swung open and both men stepped through- after Squalo stopped and scanned his card and input his VAC, the Varia took their information’s security seriously- the door closing behind them and the wall flickering a wavering for a moment before the Rain-infused Construction fell and the two entered the Hall proper.

Then they both sort of stopped abruptly and gaped a little.  The word ‘Hall’ was sort of a misnomer as the Hall was actually a large circular room that was split into two stories, as the room was within a Mist-Constructed space that was created by both Flame and magic.  The room was actually within a medium-sized closet between Mist and Storm Divisions, which was another security measure.  The filing cabinets were all made of metal and inset into the ‘walls’ so that they could be much bigger on the inside than the outside suggested.

And the last time Xanxus or Squalo had beheld the inside of the Hall it had been filled with haphazardly stacked files and teetering stacks of mismatched reports, all scattered on and around the large desk that sat dead center in the room.

Now there were still piles and full file folders, but they seemed to have a rhyme and reason to them.  Marius was seated behind the desk scribbling away on a piece of paper, referencing what they guessed was the Master Codex occasionally before going back to scribbling away.  It took Xanxus clearing his throat for the brat to notice them.

“Ah, Boss Xanxus, Commander Superbi.”  The brat told them once he’d looked up and acknowledged them.  Not for long though, he swiftly went back to scribbling away.  “I’ve made a decent headway on the backlogged Intel, but compiling it and checking for discrepancies before archiving them is taking a bit longer than I expected.  Since Varia Code is not an actual language translation spells are useless, but on the bright side I think I’ve gotten the basics of the usual encryptions.  Lightning Division’s Code makes my head hurt a little, though.”

Xanxus just grunted a little- Squalo expertly discerned the incredulity and surprise, though- as the Varia Boss rounded the desk and picked up one of the folders that Marius had indicated when he’d said ‘compiled’.  After a few moments of flipping through the neatly condensed pages Xanxus’ brows rose in pleased astonishment- at least according to Squalo’s mental index of Xanxus’ Eyebrows and Their Meanings.

“You’ve-“  Xanxus drawled slowly as he tossed the perused file to Squalo and picked up another.  “Gone through all of this in just a week.”

“Yup!”  Marius rejoined cheerfully as he flipped a few pages of the Codex before making a happy sound of enlightenment and going back to scribbling.  “It’s kind of fun, really.”  He told them cheerily as he switched to a fresh sheet of paper.  “It’s like a treasure hunt, except with words!  There are definitely some people who need to be watched though, their reports are shit.”

Xanxus blinked slowly and looked at Squalo.

Squalo blinked a few times before he locked gazes with his Boss and after a few heartbeats both men grinned sharply and turned towards the still-duitifully-scribbling Marius..

“Information Dissemination.”  They both said in tandem as their faces broke out into mirrored, rather predatory grins.  Marius, feeling the shift in the air, finally looked up from his latest report and blanched slightly.

Marius swallowed a bit apprehensively.  “Uhm.  Boss Xanxus, Commander Superbi?”

Squalo’s grin officially reached ‘maniac’ levels.  Xanxus’ was solidly on the meridian of bloodthirsty.

Marius gulped nervously.

“I have a feeling that we are going to get along very, very well brat.”   “Keep on with the work you’ve been doing and you just might be Quality.”

Yeah, totally feeling like a fish in front of a shark.  Marius thought a bit feebly as the two men began to laugh.  They know they can’t keep me, right?

Cowardly or not, Marius went back to work without saying anything.  Let Dino or Adriano remind them.  Totally not in his job description.

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Ellè stretched languidly before she shuffled forward, making her way towards the kitchen and- most importantly- her morning cup of tea.

It was late in September, so the heat of the summer had mostly passed, which meant that it was quite comfy on the private isle.  Ellè and Nick had also had the opportunity to meet some truly fascinating people and the vintage information they were uncovering!  It was positively fascinating!

The ‘Potter Expedition’ was divided up into five ‘companies’; the Flamels had come to learn.  Once they had gotten used to the idea, the hierarchy actually made a great deal of sense.  Each squad was comprised of people from some or all of the companies, but their designations certainly made finding personnel for a specific job or situation extremely easy.  Especially as most of the time they needed to find a person with a specific skill in the middle of high-stress, sudden circumstances. 

Personally Ellè thought that the Expedition’s structure was one of the most efficient, yet flexible systems she had ever witnessed.

First Company was affectionately referred to as ‘Typhoon Force’.  This company was led by the fierce Cassi Black and the Storm Arcobaleno, Fon of the Triads.  They could be easily distinguished by the bright blue ribbons that were affixed to the upper left arm.  Ty Squad members were the scouts, the ones who went in and secured an area, disabling or triggering traps, making preliminary maps, and ensuring that no undue hazardous creatures or magical nuisances were left behind- well, to the best of their abilities. 

This was also the company that did most of the hands-on Ward analysis, as the ancient Wards of the Isle had relatively nasty little surprises woven into them, even when the teams were exceedingly cautious.  It was for this reason that a sub-division of Ty Force was called ‘Savant Force’, and they focused more on the Ward-mapping aspect that the other members of the Force.  The members of Ty-Sav were characterized by the bright purple wrist-warmers that Ellè- Nick was their leader, though the previous leader, young Bill Weasley was his Second-in-Command- had crafted for them.  The wrist-warmers had many protections woven into them as an extra layer of security, and even Nick had benefitted from them a few times in the weeks since she had arrived!

Second Company was known as the ‘Pathfinders’.  They went in and fully mapped areas, carefully cataloguing any and all flora, fauna, along with any other things of interesting note in a particular area.  They also laid down or refurbished roads, based on the needs of the Expedition or based on the plans that Heir Potter had for the future of the island.  Pathfinders wore magenta strips of cloth- though a surprising number of them used their designation color as some sort of hair accessory, much to the amusement of Ellè.  This particular company was led by Itsuko Tanaka.   A rather quiet but intense young woman with bright purple hair and a seemingly endless supply of colored contacts whose father was a transportation engineer in Tokyo, of all places.

Third Company was referred to as ‘Horizons Force’.  This was the company where the researchers were centered, and the name came from the saying about ‘broadening horizons’.  Nanako Hibari co-led that company with Percy Weasley.  Cassi had informed Ellè over tea one afternoon that the Weasley had originally tried to act a bit pompously towards the others, but had been quickly brought back down to earth by the level-headed, dark-haired, bright purple eyed Hibari woman.  This particular company’s color was gold, though most of their members chose to just wear their company colors in the form of their t-shirt, as opposed to the usual strip of cloth, hair accessory, or wrist-band route. 

The final group was Fourth Company, also known as ‘Hearth Force’.  Hearth Force housed the medics, messengers, cooks and all of the other odds-and-ends but vital jobs that the Expedition needed to stay happy and healthy.  Hearth Force was headed by a wonderfully colorful character named Catarina Venter.  The woman spoke no less than seventeen languages and was the eldest member of the Expedition- well, Ellè was not entirely sure of the Arcobaleno’s age.  At any rate the vivacious, silver-white haired, hazel-green-eyed woman was the grandmother of a number of the Hibari cousins.  She ruled the kitchen with an iron fist, but was uncannily talented at ensuring there were plenty of wonderful foods that appealed to everyone.  Given the breadth of Hearth Force’s duties, Catarina had a number of Captains who handled separate tasks, but the no-nonsense elder woman was the stalwart glue that held the Force together.

Ellè was actually a member of Hearth Force, though she was pulled to assist other companies quite often.  Her skills as an Artisan Enchantress and a Runemistress were put to good use and Ellè had always enjoyed taking care of people.  Her current major project was attempting to learn how make communication devices work on the Isle.  Due to the unique situation they were in it was quite the challenging task, despite the woman’s incredible knowledge in magical communications methods and being well-versed in nonmagical methods as well.

“Ugh.”  Nick groaned as he stumbled into the kitchen, pausing long enough to press a kiss to his wife’s hair before falling onto the prepared cup of tea with incredible tenacity.

Ellè raised an amused eyebrow- you would think the man would be more accustomed to mornings, by his age.  “Rough day?”

“We- by that I mean the command Team, myself included- are going over the information we’ve gathered from the obsidian cluster points today.”  Nick nearly whimpered into his tea.  “That means reading Yucca’s horrifying handwriting.”

“Why did you not have someone else-“  Ellè began, amused at her husband’s complaint.

“Yucca is the only person- well, other than myself, but I did not wish to miss out on all the fun- who could hold the necessary spells for an extended amount of time.”  Nick sighed mournfully as he finally reached for a breakfast croissant.  “You know how many spells it takes to deep dive, let alone deep diving while also keeping your entire body dry, so you can scribble on a clipboard.”

“Ah, well.”  Ellè replied with a definitively amused lilt to her voice.  “I’m going to be working with the Remodeling Teams in one of the house clusters about twenty miles south of the main house.  We want to set up another Base Camp, as well as fix some of the houses so we can start housing people there instead of constantly using tents or constantly housing people on the Palmaria.  There are only so many tents, and most of them are assigned to squads instead of people.  Cassi also wants to be able to have the Palmaria freed up, as it is incredibly tiresome to constantly be relaying coordinates.  I think I’m about at a breakthrough point with the communication devices, though!”

“Yes, well.”  Nick said as he swallowed his second croissant and reached for a third.  “I still am so not looking forward to today.”

Ellè laughed.  Loudly.

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Hikaru grinned brightly at Kyouya, earning him a tonfa swipe.  “Oh, come on Kyou-kun!”  Hikaru sang cheerily.  “Is it really so bad?”

The elder boy was teasing Kyouya for walking into one of Blaise’s prank traps.  Well, sort of. 

Blaise had a habit of poking people until they poked back.  Unfortunately for little Hayato, Blaise found the young Storm’s eruptions hilarious. Today’s prank had been ridiculous amounts of glitter hidden under an illusion- it was posing as a legitimate button on Hayato’s clothes- that was to be triggered by Hayato’s favorite phrase.  Unfortunately for Hayato he and Tsuna had been running late and had been met by a supremely unimpressed Kyouya at the gates of the Elementary school.

Hayato said the magic word and poof.

The Elementary school principal was a particularly shrewd older woman who understood the facts of life.  Therefore she had called Nami-chuu and informed the DC that Hikaru was needed at the Elementary school to calm down his ‘unruly children’.

Hikaru chuckled a little as he caught sight of the eye-searing rainbow of colors that were stubbornly clinging to Hayato’s pale hair.  Tsuna was torn between laughing at the spectacle Hayato made and keeping his face straight, out of sympathy for his friend being caught in another one of Yoichi-sempai’s pranks.

Kyouya had already departed and was most likely searching for Blaise to ‘bite him to death’.

Hikaru felt exactly zero sympathy.  In the three months since he had returned from Italy, his friends had been doing their level best to smother him.  He and Blaise had video conference calls with Dino and Romario- and occasionally special guests such as Reborn, Marius, or Shamal, among others- at least every other evening.  Hikaru was convinced that the Italy branch of their eclectic family called so often was in order to ensure themselves of his continued good health.

Of course, there was a great deal of things going on in Italy, so maybe Hikaru was reading too deeply into the frequency of their calls.

Most likely not, however.

Nono Vongola had finally announced his impending retirement and Federico would be installed as the Decimo next year, most likely in the summer.  However, the Varia had a great deal of work ahead of them to secure Federico’s inauguration, even with Operation Eradication officially completed. 

According to e-mails that had arrived from his Papá, Aria of the Giglio Nero was working closely with Reborn on a number of things.  Reborn had assured his son that things were well in hand, though he was keeping Adriano out of the loop on a great deal of those operations for ‘plausible deniability’ purposes.   Reborn was also disturbingly chipper about cheerfully informing his son that not only was Marius thriving in the Varia’s care, Sirius was now working with the elite assassins as well.

The thought of Sirius and Marius under the direction of Xanxus of the Varia was nearly as terrifying as it was brilliant.

“So, what did we learn today?”  Hikaru asked once he had patiently listened to Hayato’s explanations.

“That Yoichi-sempai is a jerk?”  Tsuna ventured hesitantly, still trying to without his amusement at Hayato.

“That you should be careful, even when you’re in a hurry.”  Hikaru gently corrected, with a smile to ease any sting out of his words.  “You’re still kids, so it’s all fun and games right now, but the lessons behind the pranks will be invaluable later on.”  Hikaru planted his hands on his hips, his DC gakuran shifting slightly and creasing as he bent forward conspiratorially.  “Now, what are you going to do to Yoichi-sempai in retribution?”

“Hmm…what can we do?”  Hayato muttered grumpily as he crossed his arms and sulked.

The little guy looked sort of like an angry, glittery unicorn.  It was disturbingly adorable and hilarious.

“Mm.”  Hikaru hummed with a smirk edging its way onto his mouth.  “Nothing?  Nothing at all?”

“Wait.”  Tsuna said slowly, looking between Hayato and Hikaru a few times while he worried his bottom lip with his teeth.  Eventually Tsuna came to a decision and looked back at Hikaru resolutely.  “Hikaru-sempai, would you help us get Yoichi-sempai back for his prank on Hayato?”

Hikaru laughed and bounced forward jubilantly.  “Now, that’s using your head, chibi~!”  He sang brightly as he snatched both younger boys up in a warm hug.  “Always, always use your resources wisely, it’ll save you a lot and time and effort if you just swallow your pride and ask.  It’s surprising how many people ignore the simplest solutions just because they overlook the obvious.”  Hikaru released the two and looked gently nudged them towards the door.  “Now, back to class, and think about what you want to get Yoichi-sempai with!  I’ll see you two after your Club lets out!”

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Aria hummed lightly as she added a few strokes of paint to her artwork.  It was breezy and humid on her balcony overlooking the beachfront the main Giglio Nero estate bordered, and Aria was enjoying her day of freedom to indulge in her favorite pastime.  It’s rather refreshing, she thought with a silly grin painted on her lips, to be actively working towards a brighter future instead of having to allow fate to control your life.

Aria huffed lightly and dabbed her brush in a few colors on her palette before returning her brush to the canvas.  Mother and Yuni would be horrified, but I’ve always been a bit different.  I’m not so afraid of losing that I won’t fight at all.

On her middle finger the Sky Mare Ring pulsed gently and the Arcobaleno Pacifier hanging from her pocket glowed lightly,but Aria was far too lost in her thoughts and her art to notice.

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