Part One
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Of course, with her Potter Luck, she ended up right in the midst of a scene straight out of her nightmares. Memories from the fateful night Voldemort murdered her mother in front of her flooded her mind as she saw the badly injured, heavily bleeding man kicked aside in favor of his adversary grabbing a small child to dangle him by his throat and she reacted on pure instinct and adrenaline, ripping him away from the child with a well-aimed, furiously cast Revulsion Jinx.
The purple light slammed into his chest, throwing him wide so that he landed in a heap of snow a few good yards away from them all. Hari snarled at him as he went flying. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?!” The irate witch managed to catch the child before he hit the ground, gently setting him down on the snow with a Levitation Spell. “There, there, I’ve got you now,” she soothed, even as she widened her stance, hugging the boy to the side of her leg protectively.
The expressions of both men and the child would have been comical in any other circumstance. Instead, as the man in white got to his feet, Hari felt the stirrings of an adrenaline rush fueled by trauma. She’d be the first to admit that violence against women and children set her off instantaneously and gave her otherwise even keel a hair-trigger. It was, and would always be, her berserker button and she couldn’t make herself care. After all, why would it be a bad thing? Especially if she couldn’t die now. She could protect whoever she wanted, whenever she wanted. The man in white spat at the ground between them.
“Who the fuck are you, bitch, and why are you interfering? You have a lot of nerve butting into something that frankly isn’t your business.”
“It most certainly is my business,” the former Light of the Resistance snapped. “I am a Gryffindor through and through! My House words are ‘ where dwell the brave at heart’ , and I witnessed you willing to harm a child after attacking his caregiver. Call me soft or sentimental, but it leaves a bit to be desired as a first impression, mate.”
The man turned to the injured one on the ground. His outfit seemed a bit ridiculous to Hari, and yet Wizards had done weirder and worse trying to act Muggle. “Look at that, Corazon, this little Noble Lady wants to die with you and the terminal brat.”
“ Someone might die today, but it won’t be me.”
The calm, even declaration had a more chilling effect than anger. The man’s scowl intensified and the boy at her side gasped. The scent of ozone and feel of static electricity permeated the air as a heavy pressure pressed in on them. Hari felt her magic and her spiritual energy rise to meet her demand, the Hallows and Soul Stone stirring, humming, calling for blood.
“Cocky little bitch, aren’t you? Well, what’s one more corpse today.”
He lunged forward, striking out at her with a kick that would probably have the strength to cave in skulls and break bones on Muggles. Hari gathered her spiritual energy about her like armor, blocking him with one arm even as she sent him reeling again with another precision-point application of Relashio.
Hari bared her teeth. “You will not harm this child, not today, not tomorrow, not ever .”
He charged her again with fist cocked back to punch, and again she rebuffed him, this time with the stronger Expulso that caused a satisfying crack of bone as each of his ribs fractured, his chest partially caved inward from the impact. He wheezed, falling to his hands and knees.
“Diffrus Ossa.” With a pulse of magic she broke every bone in his legs. He slouched onto his front, immediately rolling over to take pressure off of his chest. “I warned you. People who try to hurt kids in front of me always regret it.”
She could feel the fingernails of each of the boy’s bony fingers digging into her knee and thigh as he tightly gripped the fabric of her jeans. His gaunt body trembled as he unconsciously leaned into her for support. She gingerly disengaged his hold on her to turn and crouch down to his level. His yellow eyes glistened with unshed tears even as tear tracks from earlier crying dried on his hollow cheeks. “T-thank you, Gryffindor-sama.”
Gryffindor? Oh, right….they probably think it’s my surname. Well, I walked into that one, didn’t I?
“There’s nothing to thank me for, kid. I couldn’t let him harm a child.”
Said man moaned miserably in the background. Hari ignored him, instead focusing on the kid she was trying to comfort and reassure. She brought him into a tentative embrace, rubbing her hand between his thin shoulders. Sweet Merlin, the boy’s thinner than I was at his age!
“Can you help Cora-san? Please?”
Hari put him at arm’s length. “Who?”
The kid, who she finally noticed had odd white splotches scattered across every visible expanse of skin including his face and hands, pointed to the other man, the one that tried protecting him.
“Right….so he’s not your father?”
“No, but I think he’s dying . Please help us.”
Hari picked the boy up as she straightened to her full height, easily taking on his weight as she balanced him on one hip. She crossed the distance between them, kneeling next to the man, Corazon . He was somehow still conscious, though losing blood faster than would be advisable to anyone, the snow staining crimson around him. His blood had already seeped through his mostly white shirt, making the red valentine hearts all but disappear and the saturated fabric stick to his chest and stomach. His breaths came in short, panting gasps as he stared at her and the kid leaning weakly against her again like cold pasta or a sack of potatoes. His light pulsed slowly, weakly, dimmer than she felt it should be the way the child’s smaller light was. They were dying, both of them, though at the moment one certainly more quickly than the other. “Who...are you?”
“My name is Harveste, but everyone calls me Hari.” She paused, considering. “Do you want to live?”
He seemed startled by her question, though he answered honestly. “More than anything. I….I want to see Law live. I want...to see him reach adulthood. I want him to be...free.”
His response came in between shuddering breaths he struggled to continue producing. One of his hands found hers. “Please...leave me...take him...take him away from here. It’s not...safe.”
Hari’s heart ached. She didn’t know the man, but he seemed to be a good soul, trying desperately to protect the boy—a boy that would actually, ironically, outlive him without her intervention. She sighed, her breath clouding and curling around her in the chilly air. She’d come to a decision, one she hoped she wouldn’t regret. “If you want to live, kiss me.”
He blinked rapidly at her, completely bewildered. “What?”
The boy, Law, apparently, fared no better. “You’re supposed to save him!”
Hari ignored their reactions, leaning over him to lightly press her lips to his, though she let him close the remaining distance so that he had some choice in the matter. She drew him in, his breath, warmer than the surrounding air, misting against her cheek. Up close she could see that his lips were tinged blue around the edges and slightly chapped, but his mouth was warm. She jerked away with a gasp when the pain came seconds later, sharp, persistent, her lungs momentarily drowning in blood, her own chest and stomach screaming as if she were the one riddled with bullets. Her markings from the Hallows bloomed into existence, glowing brightly enough that she had to close her eyes against the light until it finally faded. When she opened them again, despite still being covered in his own blood, she could tell that the man’s wounds had healed. His awe-struck gaze met her own, his hand tightening around hers.
“You—”
She grimaced, not looking forward to having that inevitable conversation. “If you can walk, we need to leave.”
Law twisted this way and that in her arms. She didn’t have the mental fortitude to push him away as he punched her in the arm. “What did you do to Cora-san?!”
“She healed me.” Corazon sat up haltingly as if expecting the pain to return. He extended a hand to Hari’s shoulder, hesitating only a moment before placing it there. He looked like he could kiss her, for real, that time, suddenly so hopeful and determined instead of defeated and resigned to his fate.
With a loud sob, Law threw himself into Corazon’s arms. He chuckled fondly, patting the sick boy’s back. “Hey, we’re okay now, Law. Love you too.”
Law sniffled, burying his nose in Corazon’s neck as his older companion finally stood, effortlessly holding Law to his chest. Hari stumbled back onto her feet as well, fighting through momentary vertigo before the world rightened itself. Right. Blood loss would do that.
“Right.” Hari shook herself. Despite simply reviving, dying never proved pleasant and she’d just performed another sacrifice. “Can you think of any safe place to go? Any at all?”
“We won’t make it far with Law like this. For right now, we’ll just have to try for the next island before Doffy can catch up to us.”
“Got it. Do you want me to carry Law or will you?”
After all, she’d healed his life threatening injuries, not his fatigue. Still, she knew by his facial features that he wouldn’t dream of putting Law down for a second.
“I’ll carry him.”
The other man’s voice cut into their conversation and Hari realized with dread that the man had somehow not passed out yet from the pain or from shock. More, he must have had a communications device of some kind to call out to his comrades. So much for getting away with none the wiser.
“They’re alive, Doffy…..” A pause, a gasp, a grunt. “Your brother was a traitor. Some...jumped up half-breed Noble Lady with Devil Fruit powers just...showed up out of the blue and helped him.”
Hari’s fingers tightened into a fist where her hand dangled. The nerve! It seemed the man wasn’t done.
“Vergo,” Corazon breathed, apparently too stunned to move.
“No, she—ugh.” He grunted with pain for the second time, struggling for every shallow inhale of air. Hari felt a twinge of satisfaction that the man was feeling something of what Corazon had. She didn’t know the blond man well, but the fact that he’d so selflessly defend a child—probably an orphan—that wasn’t even his warmed her. “Fucking—grrr—bitch broke both of my legs and…caved in part of my chest.” He hissed.
Hari snapped out of her own daze, Summoning the comms device into her hand. He reached for it in vain. “Beg your pardon—ah, Doffy, was it? So sorry to interrupt this touching moment,” she drawled carelessly, catching her own companions off guard as well. “But we’ll be going now, and I don’t think your man will need this, so toodaloo~.”
She dropped the comms device and crushed it underfoot, grinding her heel back and forth. Then she took Corazon’s hand, smiling into his and Law’s still stunned faces. “Shall we?”
Despite being dazed the man didn’t need much prompting as he lurched into motion. Hari had to shift into an all-out run as they made a beeline toward the opposite end of the island, presumably away from where the man, Vergo, and his allies were, including the mysterious Doffy. As they raced toward the shore, high in the sky, Hari was the first to spot the strange glinting lines soaring through the cloudless expanse of gray.
“What in Merlin’s name is that?”
Corazon immediately jerked to attention, glancing in the direction she indicated. His expression turned grim. “That would be one of Doffy’s techniques. We’ll be trapped on the island.”
“Not if I can help it.”
Corazon eyed her. “There’s not much we can do about it, Hari-san.”
The vicious smirk she flashed at him would have made lesser men faint. Corazon only wondered what the hell sort of ally they’d gained by accident in an unhinged half-Noble.
…
Meanwhile on the other end of the island, as his crew made landfall, Donquixote Doflamingo stared down at his own comms—not a Den Den but something far more secure—in an odd mixture of emotions—enragement, bewilderment, a sense of betrayal, and indignation at that woman .
“Beg your pardon—ah, Doffy, was it? So sorry to interrupt this touching moment,” an unknown, heavily accented, aristocratic female voice drawled carelessly, grating on his nerves and making him want to strangle the life out of her. Her tone and cadence reminded him of the Celestial Dragons who’d snubbed them, shunning them as Fallen. “But we’ll be going now, and I don’t think your man will need this, so toodaloo~.”
Then the connection cut off abruptly, and he was seeing red. He released the first vicious threads of his Bird Cage, wanting nothing more than to wring the necks of two traitors and her. He’d get his revenge, they could count on it. And now there would be nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nowhere to escape .
…
The lines struck the ground, interweaving in a tight-knit matrix that would be difficult for a child to squeeze through, let alone an adult. Hari, however, wasn’t deterred in the slightest. She motioned for Corazon and Law to stay back as she approached, studying the rigid metal strings, wirelike but far sharper and finer. “You and Law should move back a bit more and stay behind me, Corazon.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. She could tell he wanted to question her, but held his tongue for the moment. He retreated a few dozen paces, only stopping when she flashed a sign of approval. She backtracked half the distance between them and the wall, rolling her shoulders as she stopped suppressing either her spiritual energy or her magic as she had before, letting it run rampant. She knew she’d need quite a bit of oomph behind the blast. “Cover your ears!”
Only pausing a moment to check that they had, she threw both hands toward in front of her, power racing along the surface of her skin and arcing between her fingers as it pooled into a concentrated mass. When she felt she had a sufficient amount, she bent it to her will then let go much like an archer loosing an arrow, not using a metaphorical pin this time for the blow, but a hammer—an enormous one as she roared out the incantation to her chosen spell.
“BOMBARDA MAXIMA!”
The rush of the spell as it roared across the distance between her and the wall of wire at breakneck pace did nothing to prepare them for the cacophony of its impact. The spell, admittedly overpowered by Hari like so many of hers were—overloaded with magic, spiritual energy, and willpower—crashed into the wall with a resounding explosion, blasting through it and sending debris flying outward. Thinking on her feet, Hari had managed to shield herself and her two companions just in case the demolition flung shrapnel in their direction, low though chances were. The string with metallic qualities wilted and frayed at the edges bordering the blast radius. She’d done most of the work in one go, with an incredible gap in defenses. As soon as the dust settled, she spun to usher Law and Corazon after her, trying not to let their awed yet incredulous, searching looks bother her.
After that, they made it to shore with little difficulty. There seemed to already be a decently-sized ship moored there. Not contemplating who it belonged to and frankly not caring, Hari looked up into Corazon’s face, noting the return of some but undoubtedly not all of his coloring. His lips no longer appeared cyanotic, though he still had flecks of blood splatter covering his cheeks and dried droplets dribbled down his chin. “Do you trust me?”
He met her stare with a lopsided smile that showcased his missing tooth. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I? You’re our only friend here.”
Hari decided to rip the plaster off, so to speak. No reason to go beating around the bush now, not after she’d already used magic in front of them.
“I can travel anywhere I’ve been, seen, or have a thorough working knowledge of almost instantaneously, but the sensation for you won’t be pleasant. Most people vomit the first time or feel a brief sense of vertigo, and the sensation of the actual travel leaves a bit to be desired.”
“You want to use that technique to get us to the ship,” he deduced immediately. “Is it safe?”
“Yes.”
To her surprise, he touched her cheek and agreed without having to think it over. “Then I trust you.” He swallowed. “I have to.”
Hari grimaced in sympathy, took a fortifying breath, then leaned in and wrapped her arms around both of them. “Three...two...one…”
She twisted sharply, displacing the air around them. Within the same second they appeared on the deck of the mercifully vacant vessel. Law turned green and leaned over their arms to vomit onto the deck next to them, the acrid scent of stomach acid filling the air. Corazon fared better in that he didn’t lose the contents of his stomach, but he did sway, and probably would have dropped Law or fell to his knees if not for Hari’s body being there to steady him and keep him standing.
“When you said a bit to be desired, I didn’t imagine that,” he confessed ruefully.
Hari Vanished the pile of sick next to them then Summoned a few supply crates in their direction. She eased him into a sitting position while also taking Law’s limp body off of his hands. The poor boy had passed out cold, making him a deadweight. Hari reached into her bag for an Anti-Nausea Draught. Popping the cork released a fragrant, gingery scent that helped clear the air a bit. “Wake Law and have him sip this, will you?”
He accepted Law’s weight again, the boy now laid across his lap with his head against Corazon’s shoulder. Hari dug out a vial each of Blood Replenishing Solution and Pepper-Up Potion, wincing in sympathy as she handed them over. “This one will temporarily restore your energy so you don’t collapse,” she explained, pointing to the lighter of the two red potions, the Pepper-Up. “The darker red one is to replenish the blood you lost. Fair warning that it tastes like rust, but it works.”
He accepted the vials absently as he tipped the first few drops of the Anti-Nausea Draught down the throat of a barely conscious Law who he’d managed to rouse, his worry evident as it creased his forehead. “We should be setting sail. Doffy—“
“I’ll take care of us moving. You and Law try to rest a few moments.”
She didn’t give him time to argue, instead working to get the ship moving. She enchanted the anchor to raise itself, even as she twitched her fingers to unfurl the sails. Instead of resting like she mentioned, damn him, Corazon gently placed Law onto the deck, using his ridiculous feather cape as a cushion for the boy as the kid continued sipping the potion under his own power. Corazon staggered toward the ship’s wheel. Resigned to him not listening to her , Hari continued preparing everything else for casting off until finally she conjured a steady wind for their sails, propelling them rather smoothly and efficiently away from the island.
The whole endeavor took less than five minutes.
Hari drifted toward Law to check on him, noticing with satisfaction that some of his normal coloring had returned. Once she reassured herself that he would, for the moment, be alright, she made her way over to Corazon. The man looked to her like he could keel over in the face of a brisk breeze, but he persevered, leaning heavily against the wheel even as he kept it steady. “You should drink the medicine,” she murmured. “I can steer for a few moments while you do.”
His eyes—and now that he wasn’t dying in front of her or running for his life, she could admire them, a rich yet mellow reddish-brown like carnelian—flicked briefly to her. He nodded, once, extracting one vial from his pocket—Blood Replenishing Solution—and uncorked it with his teeth and thumb, downing it in one go then grimacing at the taste.
Hari cringed. “I know, but at least the Pepper-Up tastes better.”
He chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it.”
Despite his doubts he downed the second potion as well, his relief at the taste evident. Hari smothered a laugh, moving so that he could retake his position at the wheel. She hovered nearby, studying him for signs of improvement. “How do you feel, Corazon?”
A genuine, tentative smile broke across his face like the rising sun. “Better. Not as tired.”
“Good.”
She felt him watching her as she gazed out to sea. She could feel his curiosity getting the better of him, though she had no idea what he’d bring up first.
“Why did you help us?”
Ah. Right at the heart of everything that happened that day. She shouldn’t have been surprised, really. She’d have been curious if not downright suspicious about someone barging into one of her battles too.
“The simple answer is that it was the right thing to do. The less than simple answer is, as you’d guess, more complicated than the moral obligation I felt to prevent someone from killing a defenseless child.” She sighed.
He once more extended a tentative hand to rest on her shoulder, as if offering her strength. Hari smiled bitterly at the show of support. “You don’t have to explain the rest.”
His tone told her that he’d love to know more but wouldn’t press her for details if she wasn’t willing to provide them. She raised her hand to lay overtop of the one touching her, keeping her eyes trained on the water. “The truth is that I reacted on pure instinct and adrenaline. Violence against women and children, expecially children, is a huge psychological trigger for me, a berserker button, if you will. You see, when I was about a year old, an enemy of my family, a tyrant and terrorist in my homeland that my parents fought tirelessly to oppose, broke into our safe house to eliminate my entire family. He cut down my father at the door while he tried buying us time to escape, then he murdered my mother in front of me.”
She exhaled heavily, blinking away tears. “I was the sole survivor of the attack. Little did I know that I would spend the next seven years after my eleventh birthday also fighting alongside the resistance to put an end to his reign of terror. The things I’ve seen….”
She shuddered. “When I saw the two of you, I just acted. I couldn’t not do something, anything , to help.”
He radiated understanding when he spoke next, his hand squeezing her shoulder lightly in solidarity. “You’ve been through hell and back. You were an orphaned child soldier participating in a civil war that already killed your parents. It’s not a surprise that you reacted as strongly as you did to seeing Vergo threaten us.”
Hari hugged herself. “When I saw his hands close around Law’s neck, I knew I’d protect Law at all costs. Not that I knew his name at the time.”
Corazon turned to look fully into her face, his empathy and compassion—not pity, thank Merlin—clear. “Thank you for stepping in, regardless of your reasoning. One or both of us would be dead right now without your help.”
Hari had nothing to say to that, shrugging awkwardly as she blushed. Corazon carefully drew her into a one-armed hug. He held himself carefully to avoid pulling her in too close and making her uncomfortable, their bodies still several inches apart, but the intent behind the gesture was clear. Hari accepted the comfort, just glad her markings no longer took an entire month to fade or stop glowing. She preferred not to be a sapient glowstick with tattoos that weren’t tattoos.
...
Back on Minion Island, Donquixote Doflamingo and his crew stared at the jagged chunk ripped out of his Birdcage. The wires bent outward crazily as if breached by a giant’s bayonet or an explosion. Debris littered the ground on the other side of it, pieces scattered in every direction.
“What the fuck?” someone blurted.
The footprints they’d tracked led away from an unconscious Vergo, who no doubt passed out from pain or shock considering his injuries, to the edge of the Birdcage, which should have been inescapable, and yet here they stood next to an obvious exit. Doflamingo’s eye twitched behind his glasses, a vein pulsing visibly on his forehead. Was the woman mocking him? She had to be.
How else could he explain the utter disrespect she’d shown? Vergo might be crippled for life with how badly mangled all the bones in his leg were from being completely shattered. The sight of his chest made Baby 5 faint dead away despite her unusually high tolerance for witnessing violence. Now that infuriating woman had plowed right through his Birdcage to spirit away his traitor brother and the troublesome gaki.
Just who was she, and why was she trying her damndest to piss him off?
…
“This is Swallow Island,” Corazon told Hari as he navigated the ship into a hidden cove, dropping anchor as close as he dared. “We can rest here until Law heals himself.”
“And until you fully recover,” Hari reminded him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re exhausted, you lost a significant amount of blood, and you almost died. What use will you be protecting him if you run yourself ragged now?”
He grinned sheepishly, twirling the hassle on his cap. “Yes, of course, and time for me to rest, too.”
Hari didn’t believe him one bit and let her narrowed eyes say as much. She exhaled heavily, ruffling her own riotous curls. “I think you’re both too weak to handle Apparition again, but I can send you to shore a different way and then follow you the way I travelled before.”
“If Apparition is what you did before, I have to agree. It hit Law pretty hard the first time.” He cast a concerned gaze to where the boy leaned against the side of the crate in an upright fetal position, Corazon’s cape wrapped around him tightly like a blanket.
“I’ll send you first since you’re capable of defending yourself, even if you are ready to collapse from exhaustion, then I’ll send Law.”
“Send me?”
“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe. I won’t hurt you.”
She wanted to soothe any anxieties he had about being levitated over the water. He’d confessed about him and Law not being able to swim on the journey over to Swallow Island, so he might understandably freak out when dangled above the ocean, even if it were the shallows approaching shore. She knew she could do it without dropping him. She would do it without dropping him.
“Okay.” Okay? His sure, swift response sent her reeling. Somehow he trusted her implicitly, not protesting even when his feet left the ground, though he did flounder a bit at first.
Thankfully the distance to shore didn’t amount to more than a few yards give or take, though Hari did visibly sag in relief when he touched down safely on the white sand of the beach. She levitated Law next, noting the boy’s discomfort. “Don’t worry, Law. It’s only a minute or so and then Corazon will have you.”
His golden eyes reflected his unease, but he allowed her to spirit him across the waves directly into Corazon’s arms. With nothing else to do, Hari spun, reappearing next to Corazon and Law.
Corazon scanned the beach intently. “We need to find shelter.”
“Let’s move further inland then. Once we have decent coverage, we can use my tent.”
“I don’t think your tent will fit all of us,” Corazon objected, though not unkindly.
“It’s bigger on the inside than the outside,” Hari reassured him, straight-faced. Of course she was telling the truth anyway, but imagining his reaction made her want to burst out laughing.
“I’ll take your word for it,” he replied diplomatically.
They set off down the beach, picking the easiest access point into the tree line. They must have walked for at least an hour before they came to the edge of a town. Law shrunk into Corazon’s chest, covering his head and face into that ridiculous cape.
“Don’t go into the city,” he pleaded. “Please. They’ll see me and chase us off because they’ll think I’m contagious.”
“Here’s as good as anywhere, then.” Hari turned this way and that. “Why don’t we retrace our steps and set up close to town? That way if you or I need to make a supply run it’s close by.”
Corazon nodded, obviously seeing the logic in that. They backtracked to a series of natural caves, Hari choosing to make camp on the lee side of the stone, just east of the entrance to one of the tunnels. She retrieved her tent as they approached, laying it on the ground and waving her hand idly over the square of shining scarlet and gold. It sprang up and out, pitching itself neatly. Corazon and Law stared at it as if trying to figure out how it had gone from being folded to pitched in under a minute, until they got distracted by Hari stalking around to raise wards. A dome of light shimmered softly into existence, fading a moment later. Hari returned to their side with a tired sigh, flicking her hair away from her face. “The hard part is done. No one will be able to find us now. They won’t see, hear, sense, or smell us. It’s like we don’t exist.”
“We’re safe?”
Hari gingerly caressed Law’s sallow splotched cheek with the back of her hand. “Completely.” After all, no one in this world could dismantle her defenses. Short of any blood magic or an actual Fidelius, she couldn’t have better protected them.
Corazon perked up, seemingly intrigued. “That seems quite handy.”
Hari ducked into her trusty travel home then held the tent flap aside to let Corazon enter with Law. She swept into a shallow bow, trying and failing to hide her smirk. She may never have gotten to be a proper prankster, but she was still the daughter of two Marauders. She had to take her opportunities when she got them.
“Law, Corazon, welcome to my humble abode.”
Corazon nearly dropped Law.
Undoubtedly without her quick reflexes from being a Seeker and Master duelist, the sickly child might have hit the floor. As it was, Hari darted forward to catch him, seamlessly righting him and setting him on his feet without missing a beat. He too wore a completely gobsmacked expression. It somehow made him more adorable.
“What the hell?” Law blurted, absently watching her remove her shoes then scrambling to do the same.
“You…”
To Hari’s amusement, Corazon was just as articulate.
“Make yourselves at home.” She paused. “Maybe after we get the two of you cleaned up and fed, though. There’s a shower in the back. One of you can eat while one of you is bathing, then switch places. I’ll go last.”
Corazon nudged Law toward the kitchen, at least composed enough to accept that he’d stepped into a tent that essentially held a crofter’s house in the interior. Hari dreaded the interrogation sure to come but took Law’s hand. “Come on, Law, food time. Corazon, there should be fresh towels in the linen closet, and toothpaste and unused toothbrushes in the drawer. I don’t know if any of Ron’s clothes will fit you or not, but he’s stayed with me before and left some by accident.”
Corazon lingered in the hallway, his head spinning.
...
Hari disappeared into the kitchen with Law, leaving Corazon to stare after a woman who he assumed had the strangest Devil Fruit abilities he’d seen. They must be generally over space, to encompass everything he’d seen her do. Certainly Devil Fruit users could find rather creative ways of exercising their powers. Mentally shrugging, he trudged down the hall to the door Hari indicated, peering inside to find a fully furnished bath with toilet, sink, mirror, and shower. A hamper sat against one wall. His hat went in first, then his socks. His shirt and pants were difficult to peel away from his skin with all of the caked dried blood, but he managed. He hesitated between leaving them on the floor to throw in a fire later or trying to salvage them. Ultimately he couldn’t think of wearing them again with what they represented. He dropped them in distaste, stepping up to the sink to wash some of the grime off of his hands. He felt too dirty to touch anything without doing that first, though it did leave him with nowhere to rest his eyes besides his own body.
Freed from the outfit he would have died in, he studied himself in the mirror, eyes skimming over every inch of his exposed skin. He poked at where he remembered there being bullet holes and broken bones, finding only bloodstained, unmarred flesh in its place. He’d been expecting to die, but instead came out not only alive , but whole. Whatever she’d done…. He ran a hand through his short blond waves, feeling grit, sweat, and a bit of grease that he’d like nothing better than to wash out when he scrubbed the rest of the filth off of his body.
He decided not to waste anymore time as he clambered into the shower, the rush of warm water a welcome relief to him, even if he felt somehow tender under its touch. Diluted bloody rivulets cascaded off of his body. He leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes to try and lose himself in the stillness and silence as the water heated up more, vapor rising and misting on his skin. He was safe, but more importantly, Law was safe. They’d stolen the Ope-Ope no Mi first and survived to tell the tale. Now if only things could go smoothly with a manageable amount of people trying to kill them, he’d be content—or, so he thought right up until the second layer of unmentionables washed away in a swirl of herbal-scented soap to reveal a non-dormant, fully-realized, vibrantly colored soulmark on the right side of his chest that most definitely had not been there when he woke up that morning.
How could he have missed—!
He hurriedly finished washing, nearly tripping as he stumbled onto the mat. He scrambled to shut the water off then all but threw himself at the sink, chilly porcelain pressing into him. He traced the edges of the mark, which in hindsight had been hidden by the blood and dirt (mostly blood) layered onto his skin in disgusting congealed tracks. A proud scarlet and gold phoenix bearing a serpent in its mouth, wings spread wide and elegant neck arched, definitely perched on the rippling crest of a white sail emblazoned with a heart.
This meant...she...the woman... Hari...
Corazon never expected to meet his soulmate this way, or at all, really. In fact, there were points that very day when he resigned himself to dying before he could ever speak to them or lay eyes on them. That had been hard enough, harder than his heritage looming over him at every time. Being born a Celestial Dragon, even a Fallen one, he’d half feared he wouldn’t have one.
Clearly, he’d been wrong.
He probably spent five minutes after he cleaned his teeth (mainly of blood since he kept up his dental hygiene) stroking the soulmark and wondering how he’d bring it up to her. He hadn’t noticed his own soulmark maturing because of the blood obscuring it and the pain from his wounds masking its activation burn. Did she know? How could he bring it up to her?
His shoulders slumped. First he needed to search the rooms for the clothes she mentioned, then he could think of discussing their connection. He just hoped her friend’s clothing would fit, or they were in for an even more awkward start to their relationship.
...
Hari didn’t look back as she guided Law to the sink to wash his hands, then helped him into one of the seats at the table. She relaxed slightly when she heard Corazon’s receding footsteps, though not relaxing fully until she could place a plate stacked high with fluffy pancakes in front of Law. To the side, on a second dish, she served him sausages, scrambled eggs, and potatoes. She would have burst out laughing at the way he regarded the food if not for the bitter realization followed a pang of sadness. It was clear that he’d not had someone make such a spread for him in quite some time, if ever. It didn’t take him long to get over the shock of having so much food before he started to dig in with gusto to the extent his illness allowed. She resolved to heal him herself if he didn’t manage to figure out his newly acquired ability in time as Corazon hoped.
She made a pot of tea for herself and Corazon, but left a jug of milk and a glass on the table for Law. She started on her own portion of breakfast food, setting aside the rest for Corazon (and Law, if he ended up wanting seconds). Some fifteen to twenty odd minutes later after his disappearance down the hallway, the man reappeared in the doorway as Hari sipped at her steaming mug of tea, half finished with breakfast. She’d been sharing bits and pieces with Law, who’d finished firsts and seconds, and could still apparently keep going.
Thank Merlin past me felt the urge to make extra. Not wanting him to feel ashamed, she didn’t voice the thought aloud. After all, his rail-thin appearance meant he’d seen lean times and the last thing she wanted to do was discourage him from gaining a healthier weight. She flicked her finger, pushing a chair out for Corazon across from her. “Please eat, Corazon.”
Corazon did as bidden, glad her friend’s pants fit at the waist and actually came to his ankles. The shirt, however, had been a lost cause, and so he’d forgone trying to button it up completely, leaving the top half of his broad chest exposed lest he risk said buttons popping from the exertion. The fabric just barely covered the soulmark where it rested around the curve of his last rib. He shifted around uncomfortably, reaching for his portion. “Thank you.”
Hari passed Law half of a sausage, noticing that his rate of consumption had slowed considerably. “Are you starting to get full, Law?”
“Yes,” he admitted sheepishly.
Hari gave him a thousand-watt smile that caught him off guard. He had no way of knowing that he reminded her of Teddy. “I don’t want you to feel sick later because you overate. When you’re done, you can leave your plate in the sink. I’ll take care of it.”
He swallowed thickly, stuffing three mouthfuls of egg, a quarter of a pancake and an entire sausage into his mouth to clear his plate, then washing it down with milk. “Thank you, Gryffindor-sama.”
Law pushed himself away from the table and got onto wobbly legs, trudging toward the back. “Do you need help, darling?” Hari called as an afterthought.
There was a thump as if someone had tripped into the wall. “Hell no!” Law sounded mortified. An audible jog later and the bathroom door swung shut with a semi-distant bang.
She snorted, finding it hilarious instead of offensive. “I think I love that kid already,” she muttered fondly, a goofy grin in place.
“He needs all the love he can get.”
The warmth and quiet joy in his voice surprised her. Hari’s eyes drifted from her tea toward Corazon. He looked infinitely better without those godsawful bloodstains everywhere, and no longer had that ashen parlor of the dead to his already pallid complexion. He’d also completely lost the blue tinge to his lips. “I know the feeling,” Hari responded wistfully. “I was an orphan myself.”
Something knowing flitted across Corazon’s features. “As was I. My mother was dead by the time I was his age, and my father not soon after.”
Hari didn’t know what compelled her to do it, but she stretched her left hand across the table until she could lay it over his, her fingers entwining with his and interlocking perfectly as if they belonged together. She squeezed his hand in comfort, startled when he turned their hands over and squeezed back. “I don’t think it ever gets easier.” Hari bit her lip, sighing. Her eyes found his again, as if drawn there by some sort of magnetism. “But—I think we honor them by living well and finding ways to be happy.”
His eyes filled with tears and she panicked until she saw his bittersweet smile. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly wise?”
Hari barked a laugh. “Ha! No, but that’s sweet of you.”
She picked up her fork and resumed eating, holding his hand as she did so. As odd as the concept itself felt, the actual act of holding his hand felt natural. Corazon too seemed content to eat that way, falling silent as he steadily worked through the small mound of food on his plate with his free hand, every once in a while pausing to sip from the tea mug Hari provided. He’d gone so quiet for so long that Hari jumped when he did say something. The words yanked her out of her musings, attention snapped back onto him instantly. “What do you know about soulmates?”
The sudden shift in topic threw her for a loop. Hari hummed, scrambling to come up with an appropriate response. She cast her gaze up toward the ceiling as if it would hold all the answers. Thank Nimue that Hermione’s glutinous pursuit of knowledge included reading up on soulmates. Hari had never bothered investigating further, since she figured she wouldn’t live to meet them. “Some people only have one, but some people can have up to five mutually corresponding marks. There are different kinds of soulmates, too, from platonic soulmates to familial soulmates, familiar bonds to kismesis, but regardless, most people who have soulmates have at least one romantic soulmate, and every soulmate pair or set has matching marks that show up in different places on their bodies. Erm…”
She blinked, flushing as she became aware of how textbook she sounded. Bloody fucking hell. Thanks a lot, Hermione. I sound like I swallowed a textbook! Hari ducked her head in utter embarrassment. When she didn’t hear a long-suffering groan, she peeked at Corazon through the curtain her loose hair formed. While he was indeed staring at her, his eyes sparkled with fondness, no hint of annoyance in sight. He actually came off as incredibly earnest and excited, as if he were only just holding something back and she was so close to the heart of the matter.
“Did you also know,” he began slowly, “that when you touch your soulmate for the first time, your dormant soulmark activates? It usually feels like a burning sensation and the mark gets tender and hot to the touch for the first few hours, unless one or both of you is in too much pain to notice.”
Unless one or both of them were in too much pain to notice? Why would he be saying— oh .
She mentally ran over everything they’d been through in the last—Merlin, had it even been a full three hours? His implicit trust of her, her instinct to hold his hand— everything in between those details. Her thoughts stilled as it clicked, bits and pieces seamlessly falling into place. Her hand flexed inside of his as she wondered what to say to her bloody soulmate. Where in Mordred’s name would her soulmark be then?
That was the least and the greatest of her concerns simultaneously. Because they had to show each other, didn’t they, if it wasn’t in some place indecent?
“Show me?”
Hari blinked. She didn’t remember deciding to vocalize the request, but the words came from her mouth, not Corazon’s.
He reluctantly let go of her hand to unbutton his borrowed shirt the rest of the way. He shimmied out of it— and holy god was he fit— to expose what Hari could only assume was the soulmark, a phoenix bearing a serpent in its mouth, perching on a white sail decorated only with a heart. She extended her hand, which she didn’t notice to be shaking until then, but paused, fingers twitching. “Can I touch it?”
She had to make sure it was real. People could fake them, she knew, even if he logically had neither the means nor the motive. After all, she didn’t even come from his multiverse or his timeline. She’d had no foreknowledge of him nor he of her. He’d had no forwarning of her arrival, nor had she . Neither of them knew they would meet, had no way of discovering their status in their own worlds. She still didn’t know who he was besides his name, because that man, Vergo , called him Corazon. For all she knew it wasn’t even his true name. It could be a title, or a code name, or a pseudonym like Voldemort had been for Riddle. She scowled at the comparison to Voldemort, berating herself on the spot. He’s nothing like that tyrant! He’s kind and selfless and brave!
She could tell. It took either pure tomfoolery or sheer nerve to accomplish what he had, even if she only knew a tenth of what happened by what he’d said in passing during their flight from Minion Island to Swallow Island. Corazon might or might not be his true name, but he was a good person with good intentions. Her instincts informed her of that. The Soul Stone murmured similarly reassuring things to her in those few seconds.
‘His soul is shinier than a new penny, my beloved, don’t fret.’
Her attention refocused on the present as Corazon took her hand and brushed her fingertips over the soulmark. Soulmarks were slightly raised in comparison to the surrounding skin, and oddly rough yet smooth, almost like a burn. His mark didn’t feel like a tattoo at all, which made her tear up with happiness and relief, exhaling shakily. It was genuine— he was genuine, which meant she only needed to confirm they weren’t a mismatched set. Sometimes one person developed a mark for someone and they didn’t match. Hari didn’t think she could take a one-sided soulmate bond of any kind. She didn’t think she was strong enough to love someone unconditionally and not have it returned, whether it was platonic, familial, romantic, or a familiar-bond.
Soulmarks rarely showed up in exactly the same place, but they often showed up in a similar area, if on the opposite side of the body. Corazon’s was on his right side because she was right handed, which meant—
“Corazon, are you right-handed or left-handed?”
He caught on immediately. “Left-handed.”
Hari slipped out of her robe, folding it in half and laying it on the table. Thanking her past self for wearing a sleeveless undershirt underneath the Pearl Jam t-shirt she wore, she tugged her second layer over her head, her hair cascading to one side. “If it’s not somewhere we can see now, I’m finding it on my own,” she warned. Soulmate or not, she wouldn’t feel comfortable without the undershirt. She already felt exposed with her various battle scars on full display. She avoided looking at his face, instead choosing to focus on searching the plains of her arms for a matching soulmark. She drug her fingers down the far side of each, seeking by touch to make sure she wouldn’t miss it, then bringing them up to prod carefully at her neck and shoulder. When she gathered her hair into a high bun to draw it off of her upper body, a sharp intake of breath from Corazon made her freeze. As ridiculous as it was, she barely moved her lips, as if staying as still as possible would somehow help. “Where?”
“Your left collarbone.”
Hari used her right hand to keep her hair in place as she dropped her left to her collarbone, feeling inch by inch until her fingertips glided over the telltale textured flesh of a soulmark.
“Can I touch it?”
Hari’s eyes flicked to Corazon’s, who, rather than looking at her with suspicion, glowed with a different sort of awe than when he reacted to her abilities earlier. Sheer reverence, the beginnings of adoration, but not an ounce of suspicion. “Yes.”
He hesitated only a moment before standing, drifting closer until he could easily touch her if he reached out. Hari held her breath as he lightly traced over her soulmark. Barely a beat passed before an electrical current passed between them, Hari’s soulmark tingling. Corazon almost jerked his hand away, but Hari held him in place. “It’s okay.”
Corazon visibly swallowed, eyes glistening. “I never thought—”
“I didn’t think I’d get to meet you either.”
A few tears slipped free, then a torrent. Hari gently tugged him closer until she could wrap her arms around him. He bowed his head enough that they could rest their foreheads against each other. “Can I kiss you, Hari? Now that I’m not dying?”
Hari couldn’t hold in the watery giggle that escaped at his attempt at dark humor. “If you mean it, but—” She tenderly caressed his cheek, pleased when he leaned into the affectionate gesture. She studied those carnelian eyes intently, marveling at their beauty. “Tell me something first. Is Corazon your real name or a nickname? Do you want me to call you that?”
“It’s a code name.” He nuzzled his cheek against her wrist. He searched her face for something, though she couldn’t say what. Whatever it was, it was enough to make him hold back, if only for a few seconds, as he told her honestly with a visible expectation of recognition, “My birth name is Donquixote Rosinante, son of the Fallen Saint Homing and brother to Donquixote Doflamingo of the Donquixote Pirates.”
“Donquixote Rosinante.” She liked the weight of his name when she repeated it. Her fingertips wiped away some of his tears. “Don’t be afraid.”
He closed his eyes, holding still as Hari stroked a few still-damp curls away from his face. “I’m more worried that you’ll be afraid.”
She dropped a kiss on his nose and at the corner of his mouth. “Your name is your name. I’m Harvest Nepeta Potter-Black, the last of the Potters and heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, but I’ve already told you to call me Hari.”
He cupped her face with his hand, ghosting along the ridge of her cheekbone with his thumb. “Anything you want to call me is fine. Law calls me Cora-san. If you want to keep calling me Corazon, that’s fine. Rosinante is fine, Rosi is fine. ”
She breathed in his clean scent, tilted her head to kiss the opposite corner of his mouth. She changed angles just slightly to brush against his lips with hers, though only enough to tease. “Are you a fan of symmetry?”
“Yes?”
She smiled at the hint of confusion mixed with patience. “Kiss me, Rosi.”
He hummed, evidently understanding. He cradled her head in both hands as he guided their second kiss. He’d been rather indisposed during the first, after all. Hari considered it only fair that, since she dictated nearly the entirety of the first. She wanted him to have more agency, more room to decide what happened to him.
He delicately pressed his lips to hers, drawing them into something so tender she thought she would melt. She could barely breathe. Rosi didn’t just kiss her. He kissed her as if she were the most precious, cherished person in the world, as if she were someone treasured, as if she were his first and last breath of air. She swore he kissed her to the beating of their hearts. When he finally pulled away she felt an acute sense of loss, as if the sun no longer shone in the sky.
“That’s what our first kiss should have been,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on the bridge of her nose.
“Yes, excuse the fuck out of you for having the audacity to be injured,” Hari quipped, rolling her eyes fondly. “It wasn’t your fault they shot you.”
He tugged her against his chest, holding her there and tracing over her soulmark again. Hari protested weakly, using Law’s nickname for him. “You’re already clean, Cora!”
He didn’t care. He only readjusted his hold so she could rest there more comfortably. They stood that way, Rosi cuddling her to his chest, until Law returned in one of Dudley’s old shirts that Hari kept to sleep in or for messy projects that required an outfit she didn’t mind ruining. The entire thing swamped the ten year old, going well past his knees. He hovered uncertainly in the doorway, unsure of what to make of his Cora-san and Gryffindor-sama cuddling of all things.
They noticed him, of course. Hari shifted to the side to give him room to hug them, if he wanted. When he hesitated, Rosi plucked him up for a hug as well. Hari wrapped an arm around Law, feeling far more peaceful and radiantly merry than she had in a long while, if ever.
Eventually, though, she slipped away to shower, only convinced not to do the dishes by Rosi’s puppy eyes. He wanted to wash them since she cooked, and in the end she gave up fighting a lost cause. Her actual shower lasted six to eight minutes, but she spent several merely staring at her soulmark in the mirror. She rarely looked closely at herself, but the burst of color on her body caught her eye and refused to be ignored. She studied it from every angle, poking and prodding and completely baffled as to how even she had met her soulmate in such an unorthodox way. Perhaps she’d always been meant to be the Master of Death, Rebirth Incarnate, Sacrifice Made Flesh—and any other number of titles she’d apparently acquired. Perhaps meeting the Soul Stone had also always been her fate.
She didn’t believe in destiny outside of soulmarks, especially with how fallible prophecies proved to be, and yet she couldn’t help but feel that without an oddly specific chain of events, she’d never have met Corazon—Rosi— however he liked to be referred to. She’d bank on Rosi since he brought it up, and maybe also Cora. She could probably use them interchangeably. After all, he likely wouldn’t want to be reminded of his affiliation with his brother by being called Corazon outright, and he had to have similar feelings about his birth name if he would bring up abbreviating it. She could always test them both out and see which stuck. Either way, she had a soulmate . A soulmate who matched her, a soulmate who already adored her, who kissed her so sweetly she thought she’d fall to pieces. She nearly vibrated with joy.
By the time she left the bathroom she’d calmed down somewhat, though she still buzzed with excitement. She floated through the tent, waving to Rosi as she added another protective ward to the entrance just in case, then checked on the kitchen. It was spotlessly clean. Returning to the main room where Law and Rosi were sitting on her sofa, Law curled tightly into his side and fast asleep, she couldn’t keep the ridiculously blissful, probably bordering-on-sappy, grin off of her face. “You should both rest.”
She stopped next to him to gingerly scoop Law into her arms. He stirred slightly, a slurred swear slipping loose as he tried holding on to Rosi’s shirt. The man sighed fondly, carefully disentangling the boy’s hands. As soon as he did, Law whined. “Bedtime, Law,” she whispered.
Hari shushed him, rubbing circles into his back to soothe him and shifting him around so that his head lay on her shoulder. Instantly he curled into her neck, a hand clutching at the collar of her own oversized shirt.
“He likes you.”
Hari’s eyes went to Corazon—Cora—as he got to his feet. “That makes this easier.”
“What do you mean?” His arms encircled her as he leaned them both against his chest, his cheek resting on the crown of her head.
“He clearly sees you as a father-figure, Rosi, and you’re both probably fugitives now, at least from your brother if no one else. If we’re going to be living together indefinitely, especially now that we know we’re soulmates, he’ll be able to adjust easier to everything if he’s not afraid of me and accepts me.”
“You’re staying with us indefinitely?”
He sounded absolutely delighted, if pleasantly surprised.
“Why wouldn’t I be staying with you?” Hari tipped her head back to look at him, but to no avail, seeing only the underside of his jaw. Her soulmate was infuriatingly tall, she supposed, but a perfect height to lay her head on his chest whenever she wanted. If she shuffled over a few millimeters, she’d be able to fit her ear flush to his heart. It was a soothing rhythm she could fall asleep to, hopefully for the extent of her functionally immortal—who was she kidding—life.
“Why would I assume you would be?” He nuzzled her hair, inhaling her scent and exhaling in an audibly blithe way, clearly still glorifying in her presence. “It’s your choice to stay or go, your choice how long you stay if you do.”
Hari twisted around to look at him. The sincerity she found made her melt all over again, heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. She knew it was incredibly difficult not to fall in love with your soulmates once you met, but Rosi seemed to be especially far along. Not that she could say anything with how he already made her feel. “Because most people don’t choose otherwise.”
He kissed her forehead, lips wobbly. “You always have a choice.”
“That’s more reason to stay,” she whispered, tears in her eyes now.
The moment was broken by a grumpy, half-asleep Law poking their cheeks. “Shut up, wanna sleep,” he mumbled. One eye creaked open when Hari failed to stifle a giggle fast enough, but he seemed content to snuggle closer into her shoulder.
“Comfortable, Law?”
“Pillows don’t talk,” he muttered balefully, eyes closed as if he were still serenely asleep.
Hari bit back a laugh. “Fine, brat.”
…
Once he was put into a bed, Law slept like the dead for nearly ten hours. Rosi was no better. Hari didn’t have time to think about how awkward it might be to share a room with him. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light and slept nine and a half hours himself. It no doubt came as a result of his exhaustion and his body recovering from the strain it experienced, miraculously brought back from the brink of death or not. With her ear settled directly over his heart, Hari managed around eight straight hours, but stayed next to him with her eyes closed until he woke up, basking in his presence. At the first sign of him stirring, she raised onto one elbow to sprinkle kisses onto his chest, neck, and shoulders. At first he seemed satisfied with laying still as she showered him with affection, but eventually he pulled her on top of him and rolled onto his side with her in his arms. He did the human equivalent of purring, his eyes half-opening. “You’re still here.”
“I’m still here,” Hari agreed. She caught at his lips, coaxing him into their third shared kiss overall. When she ended it, she rested her forehead against his. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Neither am I.”
His stomach rumbled loudly just then. They both froze, then burst out laughing together. “Nowhere except the kitchen,” Hari teased, sliding out of bed.
Rosi reluctantly followed her, though he would have preferred staying in their cocoon of warmth together. His hand sought hers, fingers entwining with hers as if it was already second-nature. Once in the kitchen, Hari put on a pot of hot chocolate for them and threw bacon and sausages into the pan. Not willing to be idle while she worked, Rosi pressed for ways he could help her, so she left him in charge of tending the meat while she got the eggs, toast, and tomatoes. It was endearing, really, that he didn’t expect her to wait on him hand-and-foot like some men apparently still did. He was ready and willing to share a workload, domestic task or not.
Twenty minutes later, Law wandered in bleary-eyed, collapsing into the same chair he occupied during their first meal. Hari and Rosi slid the plates of food onto the table, along with the steaming pitcher of hot chocolate. Hari poured him some in a mug. “Be careful, it’s hot,” she warned.
Law leveled her with an unimpressed glower but still took care as he handled it.
“You should try figuring out your fruit today,” Rosi remarked between bites. “The sooner you manage to extract the Amber Lead, the sooner you can start getting better.”
Hari paused in her eating to glance between them. “Amber Lead?”
Law suddenly wouldn’t look directly at her, so Hari looked to her soulmate for an explanation. She was, in short order, horrified. “He should be able to extract it from his body now that he has the Ope-Ope no Mi.”
Hari frowned down at her scrambled eggs, pushing them around her plate as she considered everything she’d learned. When she looked at Law again, his golden eyes were trained on her, blazing in defiance as if daring her to say something about his condition. She did, but not in the way he expected her to. After all, he’d had enough negative reactions from various moronic doctors who were convinced he was contagious. “You poor thing. It must be incredibly painful, and it’s probably affecting other things too like your bone density, nutrient intake, and immune health.”
Unused to such a sympathetic, or at least non-antagonistic, reaction, Law’s eyes widened comically as he sat there stunned. “You’re not afraid I’ll get you sick?”
“If it’s not contagious then it’s not contagious,” Hari dismissed with a shrug. “What I am worried about is how your overall health has to have suffered. Toxins are incredibly stressful to the body. How old are you, anyway?”
Law fidgeted. “How old do you think I am?”
Some people might get upset and think he was being a smartass, but Hari could see the question for what it was. “You’re not ten, are you?”
“No.” Law stabbed into his sausage with far more force than necessary. “I’m thirteen. My birthday was four months ago.”
“You’re small for your age, then. Don't sorry, I was too and for you it’s probably just an effect of the toxin, with the malnutrition and immunosuppression stunting your growth. Probably some hormonal dysregulation too,” Hari mused. “We can fix that. We can get healthier food than this and I have some nutrition and immune supplements. If your body doesn’t correct your hormonal imbalance on its own, we can get that supplemented too until it does.”
Law stared at her as if he’d never seen anyone like her before. His eyes flicked between her and Rosi. “You really think I’ll get better?”
Rosi reached out for his hand. “We know you can, Law.”
Tears gathered in his eyes but the young teen blinked rapidly to dissipate them. “But what about the supplements? Those aren’t cheap.”
Hari left her seat to give him a hug. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll both take care of you. You aren’t alone.”
When Law twisted to bury his face into her shoulder in what would become a familiar gesture, Hari knew without a doubt that she’d be gaining a son.
…
It took Law a little less than a week to figure out how to extract the Amber Lead from his body. He’d been at it for hours again that day when he suddenly gave a cry of triumph. Hari and Rosi, who’d been playing a game of Exploding Snap, leapt to their feet. Hari immediately Vanished the white sludge he’d dumped on the disposal tray she’d provided while Rosi caught him as he swayed on his feet. He guided him over to a squashy armchair Hari purchased because it reminded her of the one in the Gryffindor Common Room. Hari poured him a cup of tea from the still-warm pot and put it on the side table. As Law sunk into the soft embrace of the chair, she also took the time to drape a fuzzy throw blanket over him.
“I’m not a baby,” he groused, yet the appreciative way he relaxed with his feet and hands tucked neatly underneath the throw gave away how comfortable they’d made him.
Rosi placed the back of his hand against Law’s forehead as if checking him for a temperature. “How do you feel?”
“Tired, but less tired.” Law frowned, forehead knotted in confusion at his own statement. “I was always tired before. It was the kind of tiredness that makes it hard to sleep, breathe, think or move . That tiredness is gone. Now I’m just tired because I used my Devil Fruit.”
“You had chronic fatigue,” Hari surmised. “Now you just need to rest. I’ll get some of the bone broth I made and you can take it easy today.”
Over the next several hours, Law reclaimed the first ounces of strength that his illness had been leaching from him. The white spots had already started to fade. Even just by the end of that same week, he noticeably gained more stamina and his natural coloring started to come in after being hidden by the unnatural blanching that came with Amber Lead Syndrome. Another week passed before he neared normalcy. Rosi stayed by his side constantly, wanting to watch his improvement rather than venture outside. Hari had loaned him a few Muggle novels in the meantime, though they also spent time playing any of the various Muggle card games and board games she’d pilfered from Dudley’s room after he discarded them. Her only Mage related ones were Exploding Snap, Gobstones, and Wizard’s Chess, so Dudley’s old games at least gave them variety.
She hadn’t told Rosi or Law that she was a witch just yet—not because she was afraid they would take it badly, but because she didn’t know how to broach the topic. She wasn’t concerned that it would seem too far-fetched either, given the strange powers people could apparently gain in her new world purely from eating a special sort of fruit and the various non-human races with their own abilities. What she brought to the table, however, would be unlike anything they had or would ever come across naturally in their world. How could she bring it up without overwhelming them?
As it turned out, an opportunity came rather naturally. With all her worrying over how to tell Rosi, the man himself had apparently noticed. As she laid next to him one night, tangling her fingers in the downy curls at the nape of his neck while she listened to his heartbeat, he brought it up himself. Tracing patterns on her lower back, nose buried into the crook of her neck, he whispered, “Something’s been on your mind. Do you want to talk about it?”
He followed up the inquiry with soft half-kiss to her neck. Hari couldn’t have lied if she wanted to. “Yes.”
Her voice came out oh so small then. She sighed, freeing her fingers to run them through his curls in an effort to soothe them both and gather her thoughts. “I have something to tell you.”
He pressed another kiss to the same spot, but patiently allowed her to finish without interrupting her.
“I’m not a Devil Fruit user....I’m a Mage.” She could have used witch but she rather liked the more inclusive term for magical people. It also paralleled better with its counterpart, Muggle .
She tucked her face against his chest, waiting for him to react. There was no break in the soothing strokes to her back, nor did he push her away from him. “A Mage?”
To her relief, he sounded only curious. Summoning her courage, Hari put some distance between them to see his face. She was met only with openness. Still, might as well just out with it. “It means my abilities are inborn and hereditary. They don’t come from an external source.”
His eyes lit up with clarity as he considered what she meant. “So you’re born with your power and it’s passed down from parent to child?”
She swallowed thickly, encouraged by a lack of aggression and the presence of fascination and...reverence? As if her admittance put him even further in awe of her. “Yes.”
“And if you were to have children…”
“...Yes.” A single word had never felt so heavy before, though it may have had a lot to do with the fact that any biological children of hers would most likely be just like her, a Mage. “They’d most likely be like me.”
“Most likely?”
Hari half-shrugged. “Most Mages have children who are also Mages like them. A child born to Mage parents who lacks the magical ability to be a Mage themselves is called a Squib. They’re usually encouraged to live with Muggles, which is what we call people without magical abilities. Any Mage born to Muggles is called a Muggleborn, and any Mage born to Mages with all-magical ancestry are called Pureblood. Then there are people like me, half-bloods who have both Mage and Muggle ancestry to varying degrees.”
She felt his hand slide onto her stomach applying a gentle pressure, his expression one of contemplation. “Do you want biological children?”
The question made her pause. She thought she’d have a quick answer, a fast yes or no waiting on the tip of her tongue, but she had no idea, really. All she knew was that she wanted a big family, and she could accomplish that just as easily through adoption, which she could start with Law. When she shared as much, his face softened even further into something completely smitten, every muscle working to show how much he adored her. “We’ll cross that bridge if or when we come to it, and I’ll honor your decision,” he murmured, and now Hari wanted to cry because how could he be so sweet and understanding?
Not that she wanted him to pressure her either way about biological children, especially when he had an opportunity to create life that would be far more powerful than he would ever be, but the easy acceptance shocked her. Rosi gave off the vibe that whichever way she went with things, he would support her without trying to persuade her toward either option, and for that she could admit she loved him. Loved . Because he was just so damn easy to love, wasn’t he? Even for a soulmate. You were supposed to love your soulmate, barring kismesis. There was in fact an innate attraction toward them, a sense of trust you held for them, a craving to be near them and for physical contact with them regardless of if it were a romantic match. Looking at Rosi, though, at the way he glowed with bliss, the way he accepted her and every part of her so unconditionally, not to mention his love of Law, she knew she would have fallen for him head over heels regardless of a bond. His soul shone like a beacon in a stormy sea, a sun in a world otherwise shrouded in gloom: pure, resolute, genuine, sparkling with unadulterated delight.
“Rosi—Rosinante—”
His expression shifted into a lightly teasing one. “Harveste.”
She snorted. She supposed she did sound a bit ridiculous using his full given name. She decided to confess before she changed her mind. “I love you.”
His eyes crinkled at the edges as he beamed at her, fingertips dancing over the lashing arms of the lightning bolt scar that adorned her forehead, nose, and cheeks. “And I you.”
His kiss set her on fire again, liquefying her into a molten pool of Hari.
…