Chapter 2
Verdell Tremblay, more commonly known as Verde, is curious.
Hunger for knowledge is a general state of being for him, but this time it goes a bit beyond this. Reborn has found his Sky. An Arcobaleno Harmonising after all these years is a curiosity in and of itself, but the circumstances behind it are even more intriguing.
Thus, after receiving Reborn’s text, he doesn’t hesitate. He immediately arranges for his transport to Napoli.
He arrives mid-morning to a scene so domestic it would almost be nauseating if not for the staggering warmth of the potent Sky Flames filling the room.
The Sky and his Sun are eating quietly, their Flames dancing around each other. It takes everything out of Verde not to shudder in want in the face of this post-Harmonisation bliss.
The two occupants of the hotel room turn away from their breakfast, one with a wary gaze that looks quite out of place on a Sky’s face and the other with the displeased look of someone who has been interrupted.
Verde ignores Reborn’s egocentrism.
Instead, he focuses his attention on the stranger, whose face he recognises quite promptly. He allows himself a raised eyebrow to betray his surprise.
Viper will have a fit, he thinks.
“Erm, hello?” says Harry Potter with a surprisingly polite tone for someone who looks seconds away from drawing his wand.
Discovering the magical world has been one of the unintended results of the breaking of their curse.
The ageing potions provided by Viper had prompted him into a research frenzy unlike any other. He’d wanted to learn it all: potions, charms, the most obscure magics and creatures. It was difficult to do so as a muggle, but with Viper’s help and a significant drop in his bank account, he had managed it.
Of course, he had come across the singularity that was Harry Potter. He hadn’t cared much about the boy, but the magical theory behind his twice resurrection had fascinated him for a time. And to think that Harry Potter was a Sky. Fascinating.
“Good morning.”
“Ciaossu, Verde. Long time no see,” drawls Reborn. Verde is almost thankful for it, as the light-headedness he’d felt since approaching the hotel room is making him even less eloquent than he usually is. “Harry, this is the… associate I told you about, a scientist specialising in the study of Dying Will Flames. Verde, this is Harry Potter, my Sky.”
“He knows who I am.”
Reborn turns to the Sky with obvious surprise, then to Verde. The scientist smiles wryly.
“Indeed. Do you mind if I take a seat?”
The Sky nods, still tense.
“I trust that you have told Reborn a bit about your circumstances?”
“He did.”
“And did he tell you about our own?”
“I was getting to that, actually. But you came a bit earlier than I expected.”
“Fair enough. Then I’ll do the honours, shall I? Reborn and I are part of a group called the I Prescelti Sette, though we are commonly known as the Arcobaleno. To put it simply, we are considered the seven strongest Flame users in the Mafia world. That means that we were introduced to each other some years ago and did some jobs together. It also means that we were duped as a group and cursed by a dubious individual going by the nickname Checkerface.”
Harry Potter sucks in a sharp breath and the sympathy in his gaze is only second to the one in the Flames currently reaching out to him. He coaxes his own Flames out and tries not to be embarrassed at how eager his Lightning is to touch this Sky. Reborn sends him a warning look.
Right. He’d told him to try and hold back. Loath as he is to listen to the man, this Sky is a civilian who has already been unexpectedly bonded once to an Element. It wouldn’t do for it to happen a second time. He retracts his Flames reluctantly.
He explains Checkerface’s goal, and the consequences it had on their existence. Reborn takes over to talk about his student and his way to break the curse.
“So the curse was broken but you retained your infant forms,” states Harry.
The Sky was a good listener, only interjecting to ask for clarifications. He was empathetic too, something Verde himself could admire though he was very aware of how utterly lacking that quality was in himself. But well, Reborn wasn’t known for empathy either. Perhaps it wouldn’t matter.
He blinks, startled at the thought. He came here only to observe Reborn’s new Sky, and yet here he is already considering Harmony.
How unsettling.
“That’s right. Viper, the Mist Arcobaleno, came up with a solution in the form of anti-ageing potions. When I asked after their provenance, they revealed the magical world to me —though they refused to tell how they became aware of it. I am a scientist, and I deemed it my duty to explore the boundaries between science, Flames and magic. And well, what happened to you is quite the magical conundrum, Mister Potter. I admit that your case has piqued my scientific interest. Learning that you are a Sky on top of that is quite curious.”
To his bafflement, the young man bristles. Reborn straightens, his eyes hidden under his fedora.
“I didn’t ask for any of it.”
Verde stares.
“I never said you did.”
It seems to do very little to appease him. The Sky runs a shaking hand through his already unruly hair.
“I didn’t ask for it. I just. I wanted— I shouldn’t have gone back.” His eyes widen. “Oh. I did ask for it. But— I’m not— I’m not a freak, I’m not,” he mutters, as his Flames burn cold in his agitation.
His trembling accentuates and Reborn swears. The hitman grabs one of Harry’s hands and begins pouring his Sun Flames into their bond. Verde’s fingers twitch for his notebook, but he shakes himself.
The distressed Sky in front of him is more important.
“It’s the second time this has happened. He woke up during the night and he was freezing. It took half of my Flames to make him warm again.”
“What did I say that set him off?” questions Verde.
“Nothing in particular. He was already uneasy when you recognized him. Anything that sets him apart from others seems to be a trigger.”
Verde hums before kneeling in front of Harry.
“There is nothing freakish about you, Mister Potter. Wizards with Flames are rare, but not unheard of. And you’re not the first to have survived the impossible. Your circumstances are interesting and I would frankly like to study them, but that doesn’t mean that there is anything wrong about you.”
***
Something in Harry quiets as Verde speaks. He stills, and focuses his eyes on the green-haired man. His gaze is blurry. He can only make out green crackles —Lightning Flames, his mind supplies— sparkling around a lab coat and hair messier than his.
“I was called a freak too. Mostly because of my scientific interests. But also because I survived the impossible, like you. You’ll find that in the Mafia world, you’ll be surrounded by survivors.” He pauses. “I was struck by lightning and lived to tell the tale. It frightened others in my hometown so I withdrew from everyone. Instead of trying to assuage their fears, I obsessed over finding out why. Why I survived, why the power that struck me seemed like it now belonged to me,” he says, drawing a crackle of electricity between his thumb and index.
Harry stares at his hand, only vaguely aware that his vision has become clear again.
“Can I…?”
He doesn’t know what he’s asking, but judging from the soft sigh he can hear from Reborn — who is still holding his hand, what the hell— and the thoughtful look on Verde’s face, his companions do.
“If you do, it’s unlikely that we’ll be able to hold back from Harmonising,” warns the scientist.
Harry flushes.
“Would that be so bad?”
The man’s gaze softens. He opens his palm.
“No. No, it wouldn’t.”
So Harry grasps his hand.
***
Renato watches as the bond between Lightning and Sky solidifies. He can feel the static tingling in the palm still holding Harry’s hand.
He sighs, quietly relieved.
Calling Verde was the right choice. Already the scientist is documenting the fluctuations in their Sky’s Flames, as Harry watches him in quiet awe, both curious about the man’s work and basking in their harmonisation. They’d retreated to their hotel room for privacy, and Renato had retreated to a corner to do what he did best: observe.
As a hitman and as a tutor, his people— reading skills had been his greatest assets. It would also come in handy to get to know his Sky. He watches him as he refuses additional food, bites his quill to compose a letter to a Bulgarian friend he was supposed to join in Sofia, and generally stares at both him and Verde with such a content expression it makes Renato ache.
Having a Sky is everything he’d hoped for and more, even if it means he had to contend with an insufferable Lightning guardian again. At least it’s not Lambo, he thinks, sparing a moment to send wordless condolences to the few sane Guardians his Dame-student has.
Then he remembers the Rain’s inane laugh, the Cloud’s violent tendencies, the Storm’s fanaticism, the Sun’s… extremeness, and Tsuna’s Mists general everything and amends his sympathy. There was no one sane in that particular Rainbow. The thought makes him chuckle.
“Reborn?” asks Harry with a curious look.
“Call me Renato,” he says, prompting a startled blink from both his Sky and Verde. “It is my name, after all.” One of them, at least.
“A bit on the nose,” comments Verde.
Renato resists the urge to shoot him.
He doesn’t know if gunshots might trigger his Sky’s PTSD but he’s not willing to risk it. He will try in a more controlled environment. Verde smirks, his eyes narrowing on the movement of his twitching hand. Renato pats Leon on the head in what will seem like a casual gesture to Harry but is very much an implied threat.
“Renato, then,” says Harry with a pleased smile, aware of the silent exchange between them but unwilling to press.
“I was thinking about my student, Tsunayoshi. He recently moved into the Vongola mansion —he’s doing his last year of high school in the Mafia Scuola Superiore,” he adds for Verde’s benefit, who inclines his head in acknowledgement, “and I was considering asking him to host a meeting between you and the other Arcobaleno, mio Cielo. You need a complete set of Elements to stabilise you and they are the most likely to be compatible.”
Harry hums thoughtfully and his eyes brighten into a molten orange. Renato bites his tongue to stop his face from showing the hungry expression it wants to display.
His Sky is gorgeous in the first place and his green eyes are wonderful to look at, but seeing his soul on display like this is breathtaking.
His Flames stir. Judging from Harry’s blush it is enough for the young man to guess what he is thinking about.
Verde pointedly looks away before speaking.
“It would most likely help, Harry. The potency of your Flames is a bit too high for your average Flame user, and while a Courted Element would normally adjust during the pre-Harmonisation period, I do not believe you will have the time to endure such a process before collapsing again. Especially if you have already rejected Elements you were previously compatible with.”
Harry sighs before nodding. Renato whips out his phone.
“I’ll call Dame-Tsuna, Colonello, Lal and Fon.”
“Then I will contact Viper and Skull,” says Verde, amused.
The scientist knew he’d rather not interact with the lackey, and Viper’s haggling was too much to deal with on a good day.
The other Arcobaleno agreed to a meeting, though they were understandably wary: it was rare that Renato and Verde agreed on anything, and the fact that they hadn’t mentioned the purpose of the meeting didn’t help. With Tsunayoshi’s agreement to host the meeting —readily given, despite his whinings about Reborn’s shenanigans—, they were settled. They booked a flight for the next day and decided to enjoy the rest of their time catching up on the Flame Courting they should have done before Harmonising.
Harry was still on bedrest, so they spent it talking about the intersections between magic and Flames and arguing whether Flame users should be considered “muggles” or be introduced to the magical world when they activated them as well as the possible reasons why the two communities haven’t been known to intersect.
“That would be a question better asked to the Vindice,” says Renato. “Though I would rather not arrange a meeting with Bermuda to ask, if it all the same to you.”
“I will do it,” suggests his fellow Arcobaleno. “My theory is such: magic interferes with Dying Will Flames too much for them to coexist. Since the manifestation of a magical person’s will is generally accidental magic, they are thus unlikely to ever unlock their Flame potential. It is possible for them to coexist under specific circumstances when magic is not deemed sufficient by the body to conquer an existing threat and the only thing the magical person can rely on is their sheer force of will.”
“So because I was too conscious that my magic wouldn’t be enough, I activated my Flames to counteract the threat.”
“Indeed. And your Flames have mostly been dormant since because you did not have the necessary training to wield them and because they were stifled by both your magic and the ritual that connected you to Voldemort. When you… died and came back to life,” he explains with a difficulty Renato can only sympathise with, “the only pushback was your magic, and your Flames filled the vacuum left by Voldemort’s death.”
“Which means they are unusually balanced, aside from the Discordance,” adds Renato, fascinated at the readings the scientist is picking up with his Flame-detection device.
The swirling kaleidoscope of colour that makes up Harry’s magic is interweaving with his Flames in a mesmerising pattern. He cannot help but reach out with his own Flames, and feels Verde doing the same. Harry’s magic and Sky curl contentedly around them.
Verde and Renato exchange a look, reaching a silent agreement. They will do anything to keep this.