Carry On

Walking in to James’ bed room was more jarring than it should have been.

The giant bed that looked like it had been taken straight from Hogwarts. With the matching curtains, the wall tapestry with the Hogwarts Crest, the racing brooms mounted on the wall, enchanted items overflowing the bookshelves; it was like returning home. Literally overflowing! The whole room was overflowing with aging magic.

It was also a bit of a mess.  

Albus shuffled past, and Harry watched him from where his feet had glued themselves to the ground. Harry’s arms felt leaden as he took in the scene in its entirety.

… this was the room he always envisioned for himself. This was a scene of a future he had hoped for himself. The room breathed magic, and Harry’s fingers tingled.

Harry felt satisfied, in a sense, that James was able to enjoy such a lifestyle.

Harry’s eyes fell to the bed where all the curtains had been drawn back and tied in to place with golden cords. Lily sat on the bed next to James’ still body with a hand on top of his head as the old man slept on. Albus slowly lowered himself down in to the single chair next to the bed, and reached forward to hold James’ hand. Their hands were both thin skinned, wrinkled, and curled with age. Like puzzle pieces being fit together, Albus took up James’ hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

The scene felt finished.

‘I shouldn’t be here.’ Harry thought numbly to himself—not because of simple ill will, or for being the cause for the sudden lack of health. No… It was common sense. Logistics. The natural order of things. Harry was too old to be standing here. He was far too old to be alive—too old to see his own children so sick and old.

(Harry had never planned to live so long. Living had always been immediate. Harry knew that living would always have an end. He had been surrounded by ghosts all of his life, he had accepted his end long before he had the ability to recognize his own acceptance. He had never planned to live so long as to be able to see his children like this—he had never wanted to. If there was one thing that he had learned in helping raise little Teddy Lupin, was that all children with dead parents carried the guilt of their deaths with them. Harry had thought he was alone, but learned he was less unique than he thought… which was a relief. It really was.)

It was at this moment that he felt his most unnatural.

“Daddy,” Lily called, and held out a hand.

Harry didn’t know what else to do, so he merely followed Lily’s silent request to hold her hand. Numbly, Harry dropped to sit on the edge of the bed. The bed was enchanted, and didn’t shudder with Harry’s sudden drop down. He looked to James, now. Seeing the shallow rise and fall of his chest. The arms and hands laying prone on top of the sheets.

The oxygen mask. The tanks next to the bed. The fogging of each tiny exhale. The rattle of exhausted gasps.

“… this is all my fault.” Harry murmured.

Who else could be blamed but Harry?

Normally blameless, rolling with the punches Harry was completely at fault now. Perhaps Frank was more right than he should be allowed. Frank’s voice, more haunting now from how long ago Harry had heard Frank’s words—and how deeply they had somehow imprinted themselves on his soul.

(“You let them take you away!” …. Did he?)

“Daddy,” Lily started again, taking a breath like she fully intended to continue. Harry shook his head, raising a hand to stop her. Harry was grateful that she took the silent sign and held her tongue.

… after all—Harry hadn’t been strong enough, or perhaps not smart enough, to stop this entire situation before it got out of hand. He couldn’t even recall if this was a situation where he had walked in to it willing, under the pretense that he was going undercover… or if he had been attacked and had been unable to save himself. He couldn’t recall anything at all about the sudden shift of his life other than the fact that he had shifted—

Harry reached out and placed his own hand on top of James’ chilled, unmoving hand. Looked to the pinch of his face. The depth of the wrinkles around his forehead and eyes. The discolored skin that looked to be freckles or age—he couldn’t tell the difference.

Harry shifted and pressed his fingers against James’ pulse. It was sluggish. And weak. Thin.

Everything was so thin and insubstantial about all of his children. From their wispy hair, to the wrinkling… they were already ghosts, in a sense. And Harry was haunting himself.

Harry shivered, letting the full body shudder run through him.

(“I didn’t pull you back so you could ruin us!”)

Harry closed his eyes, keeping his fingers on James’ pulse as he brought up years of medic knowledge to the forefront of his mind. Slow, sluggish, weak—coldness, fatigue, weakness. Harry shifted his fingers away from James’ pulse, and pulled his hands over James’ fingers.

Chilled.

Harry casted a mild heating charm on the bed. Raising the temperature just slightly.

“We’re ready for this,” Lily broke the silence. She didn’t continue till Harry looked over to her. “We’re old, Daddy. We’re ready. When push comes to shove.” Her eyes slid away from Harry to James. “Minimal regrets.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed the corners of Albus’ mouth drew down on the word ‘regrets’, and he kept his eyes locked on to his hands, where they were cradling James’ other hand.

Her words reverberated in the air. Until Harry shattered them.

“I’m not,” Harry felt his throat pinch. It was almost painful, fighting to get the words out. His eyes were burning again, “I’m nowhere near ready.” It wasn’t fair.

There was no real way to step against the flow of time.

“I don’t want to let anyone go.” Harry’s voice warbled near the end, and he hated the fat tear that flopped down his face. Gritting his teeth, Harry used the heel of his hand to wipe the evidence of weakness away. Although the action just made room for the next one. And the one after that. Harry choked down on the scream that wanted to come out as he held on to James’ hand once more.

Harry forced his voice as even as he could, “James, wake up.” He gave the still chilled fingers a squeeze.

Lily sat down behind Harry, and silently wrapped her arms around his middle. Harry felt her cheek come to lay on his shoulder. It was only with her there that he realized he was shivering. That he was vibrating in place.

This was the stuff of nightmares.

The bedside of his child. Gravely ill or gravely injured.

(Not worn thin to the point of insubstantiality. Ground down in to dust by life and ready to scatter over the earth.)

Harry couldn’t even bring to words the sudden cold that had gripped his heart. His chest hurt the longer he looked to James—bands of magic hooking in his ribs and pulling them ever inward. Refusing expansion. His mind would not shift to the idea of James suddenly not being accessible. Of not being in the Carcassa compound.

Of not being alive.

Harry kept his eyes shut and focused on his breathing.

He tried. Harry tried so hard to get his shivering to stop. To make the tears stop.

But… with his eyes closed.

The image of a child—pale faced. Slack.

Smelled like something rotting.

Like the inferi of the lake.

Overpowering.

Young—young—too young, the curve of their neck to skull was too soft and fragile and the lack of their soft exhales was too, too loud—

“—Dad!” the voice of Albus was strong, and very loud—in his ear. Harry jerked, and realized that the scream in his ears was coming from his own throat, and he snapped his mouth shut even as he pressed his hands more firmly against his face. Dug his nails in hard to ground himself.

There was pain in his veins. His body was only as strong as the pain it could endure.

Lily’s hand was rubbing circles against his back.

Harry didn’t look up—but he could feel his children having a conversation over his head, even if they were just using their eyes.

“Why don’t we get you some clothes and a shower? And then we can sit and have a meal.” Harry heard Lily. He really did. But it sounded like she was coming from far, far away. Time felt slow as he lifted his head and looked over and up at her. Harry shivered, and ignored the tears that popped up once more.

“What… what if…” Harry choked.

Not James.

Please.

He wasn’t ready.

Harry bit in to his lip hard. And watched Lily’s hand reach out and wrap around his curled fists. She gave a gentle tug. She wouldn’t have the strength to move him, even if he allowed it. No, she was frail and old and small—

“A shower. It’ll be quicker than a bath. I’ll set out some clothes that’ll make you feel comfortable.” Lily murmured.

Trembling, Harry nodded. He got to his feet at another tug to his hand. Harry couldn’t stop himself from watching James over his shoulder until Lily pulled them entirely from the room. In silence, Harry let himself be led back to his room. Harry didn’t question the nudge toward his personal bathroom. And he went in without a fight.

His fingertips felt like they were on fire. Too sensitive to the touch. But that was probably just him.

He vanished his ruined clothes with his hand. And truly just stood under the spray of water until the smears of rusty-black were mostly diminished on his legs. When only the faintest of smudges remained, Harry grabbed his washcloth and wiped the rest of it away.

… the hot water felt soothing.

His eyes didn’t hurt so much when he finally stepped out.

Looking in to the mirror hurt his head. For a moment, he expected a pasty white face that was as smooth as a baby… but he also expected black hair and green eyes. He expected enough that he briefly went cross-eyed for a moment before he looked away and rubbed at his face.

His bed room was empty when he stepped back in to it.

As Lily promised, there was a set of clothes on the bed. Looking at them, though, Harry wouldn’t say that he expected them to actually be comfortable. Harry debated grabbing another pair of jeans he had seen in his wardrobe, but eventually just pulled on the jumpsuit that had been left out.

… this was Skull’s jumpsuit. This was what Skull wore… all the time.

Harry conceded that it was terribly easy to pull it on.

The weight and squeeze of everything was comforting. Harry grabbed his own socks and boots. Idly he pawed through the drawer in his dresser he had dubbed the ‘leather drawer’ and hadn’t investigated much further after that first cursory glance. He took the time to locate some new driving gloves to shove in to his pocket.

A flash of red caught his eye. There for only a second. Harry hesitated only briefly before fishing through and jerking out the red-thing and—

… it was his Auror uniform.

Just as he remembered it.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled it out. When the robe cleared the lip of the drawer, something tumbled out and smacked on to the ground. Harry jumped only slightly at the sound, but swiftly picked up his leather wand hostler. Looking at it, though…

This was not his. But after placing it on, it fit his exact measurements.

… hadn’t he mentioned, off hand, to Ginny… so many years ago… that his hostler had taken a lot of damage? That it was falling apart? He had said that, hadn’t he?

He found a lightning bolt embossed in to the underside. Charmed to shimmer like gold.

Harry shivered, and silently charmed the hostler in to place and shoved his wand inside. 

…. He would think about this later. Not now.

He had better things to do now.

Returning to James’ room sent his heart racing. He paused briefly outside of the doorway, and listened to the carrying voices of his children as he forced the shaking in his hands to stop.

“… soup. It’ll be easier.” Lily said.

“True, true. He has regained some color. Perhaps the toll won’t be as bad as we first assumed.” Albus’ voice was a little harder to hear. But still audible.

Lily hummed, “it’ll be good. He may not be on his feet any time soon… but it’ll be good for dad to see him sitting up and awake.”

“Yes… but it was a lot of spells, Lils.”

“… yes. Fifteen, by Liliana’s count. Give or take three, according to Fabien’s account.”

Silence, then. And when it went on too long, Harry padded his way in to the room. There was another chair next to the bed. Lily occupied the other one, and Albus stood by the window where the curtains had been drawn back. Both of his children looked to him, but neither verbally greeted him.

Harry went to the chair and sat himself down. And no one spoke for a long, long while.

Harry spent his time watching James’ breath.

Lily, after a little while, busied herself with organizing James’ shelves in to something less of a whirlwind. And Albus sat down and somehow fell asleep all within the span of three minutes, looking a little pale.

He watched. And brooded (or was it thought? Thought and brooded and wondered and twisted himself up in circles and pretzels and—).

And at least discovered the source of his discomfort. Of his horror.

“I don’t want any of you to die for me.” It tumbled out. And Harry didn’t want to take it back.

Lily looked up from the shelf she stood in front of, a cloth in hand and a picture frame in the other. The moving picture in the frame was aged, from what Harry could tell from this distance.

“Well, that’s our choice, isn’t it?” Lily spoke evenly. “No one can take that from us.” She set the frame back in its place, and then moved to stand next to Harry’s chair.

Looking up at her now, well. “You’re just like your mother,” Harry murmured. Equal parts awe and sorrow. He had never seen Ginny so old, and never so wise. But Ginny had always had the potential for it. And Harry could see the metamorphosis of his wife being the example that Lily lived up to.

“Hm, that’s a familiar statement,” Albus piped up. His head propped up against the back of his chair, and body slumped down with his fingers threaded over his stomach. After a moment he cracked open an eye to look over to Lily, then to Harry.

Lily let out a breath of air. “No, daddy. I believe we’re just like you, really.” Lily quirked a smile.

Harry tilted his head to the side as he looked between his two children. More like him? Harry saw more of Ginny’s spirit amongst the three of them. (These were Ginny’s children, weren’t they? What part of himself did he contribute, did he give?) What could he have possibly given to his children? All three of them? “…uh, Potter luck?” He ended up asking.

Albus chuckled. “More or less.”

“Strange thing, that Potter Luck. Do you think it’s a curse?” Lily curled a smile as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“No,” Albus actually rolled his eyes, pointing them skyward as if the sheer thought that their odd family luck was a curse. “It’s coincidence that we attribute to a figment after the fact. There is no curse, but after things happen we like to attribute such coincidences to the non-existent curse.”

“… you’ve thought a long time on that.” Harry murmured. The words jumbled in his head, much like Hermione’s usually thought out speeches did.

Albus rubbed his hands together, seeking warmth. “.. I’ve had a long time to think, dad.” Albus offered.

“… yeah.” It was the truth, and Harry had to accept it. One could not reverse the flow of time.

This was not the tale of Sirius Black and the Dementors.

No.

The chance of such a tale happening for a second time in Harry’s life was too terribly small. He would never again be so lucky to step through time and save the life of someone dear to him. Not like that. Never again.

Harry rubbed his face and slumped in his seat, mirroring Albus as he closed his eyes. “A long, long time…” And wasn’t that what he had always wanted for his children? A long, full life? Full of love?

… he could have done without all of the heartache and suffering, though.

He was sure they all could have.

Harry hasn’t realized he had drifted off until Liliana was over his shoulder, gently shaking it. When she noticed that Harry was looking at her, she stopped shaking his shoulder. Harry groaned as he slowly stretched his body, and she removed her hand from his shoulder. He stretched his arms up above and arched his back, and then let himself go boneless.

“He’s making a nuisance of himself.”

Harry paused and focused his eyes on Liliana. In the pit of his stomach, he could really only think of one man that Liliana could be talking about.

He sighed. “How?”

“Harassing the minions. Blatantly camped out in front of this house most of the time. Staring at people.” Liliana listed off.

Harry hummed—that didn’t sound too troublesome. But looking up at Liliana’s face showed that she really was annoyed by Reborn’s actions. Maybe with his known history of Reborn, well, perhaps the small things he did weren’t as bothersome to Harry as they should be.

“Um… right.” Harry shifted, paused, and then pulled himself to his feet. He let his arms hang to the side as he looked around the room. Lily was sitting on the edge of James’ bed, reading a book. Albus was no longer in the room. And otherwise it was just him and Liliana.

“I’ll just… go and see them. Real quick. I’ll…” Harry trailed.

“See you soon, Daddy. I’ll watch over James. He is doing much better. Get something to eat,” Lily smiled, not bothering to look up from the book—no, it wasn’t a book. Looking through a photo album. Harry felt an itch to go and look over her shoulder to see what was inside. But, well…

He could do that later, right?

“… I’ll be back soon,” Harry murmured, and left.

Before they stepped out of Potter house, Liliana reached out and touched Harry’s arm. She didn’t grab, but merely placed her hand against his elbow and drew to a stop. Harry complied with the silent request, stopping to look to her.

“You’re not really breaking your ties to them, are you?” Liliana asked. Her body facing Harry, but her eyes looking away.

This answer was complicated, on the single virtue that Harry didn’t immediately have an answer for Liliana. In fact, as he stood before her now he could almost feel the headache that would be this issue concentrate in to a single point of pain in his forehead.

The Arcobaleno had done… much, for him.

More than they were obligated to.

Perhaps more than they should have.

Looking through the haze of memories, if only briefly—Harry… No, Skull—he had been a mess of a human being, even if it no fault of his own. He had actually nearly ruined missions due to his memory problems. Put them in danger. Had them pick up his slack. Almost accidentally killed half of them. Multiple times.

And even after the shattering of the Arcobaleno curse—even after that, they had still stuck by him. They still checked on his welfare. With more frequency than an obligation or routine called for.

But even then…

Harry pressed his nails hard in to his palm and looked away from Liliana. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

“… Yes, you did.” Liliana whispered. It carried.

Harry wasn’t sure he liked the fact that Liliana had apparently inherited his own dramatic pausing when speaking. Now he directly understood why Draco Malfoy always walked away with his hands in fists and his face carefully blank.

“If I did so—how would you feel?” Harry asked, curious.

Liliana pursed her lips, and finally looked to Harry. Slightly, she raised her chin. “… you don’t need my approval, one way or another. You’re still going to be here… right?”

“Yeah. Always.” Harry felt himself relax. It was suddenly easier to breath. And no headache in sight.

Liliana’s eyes closed, and her shoulders briefly jumped up, and then relaxed. She nodded. “Family, always.”

Harry took his right hand and offered it to Liliana. Palm to the side. He waited for Liliana to notice the hand, and when she did she looked up to Harry. They didn’t speak, they didn’t need to. She took his hand and they shook.

With that, Harry took the lead as he stepped out of Potter House and in to the too early morning. He just followed the smell of smoke that led him around the corner. Harry felt his own eye twitch when he recognized a table-chair set that was normally found by the front gate. Reborn was casually leaning back on two of the four chair legs with his head tipped back.

Viper sat in one of the vacant chairs, body calm and rather still.

Just a little way away was Fabien, a mug of coffee in hand and standing next to what could only be a Lovegood. He didn’t much look like Luna, but he was pale, and his face set in a dreamy expression. Harry looked away from him before he could read too much in to it.

“Why are you making trouble?” Harry sighed, coming to a stop next to Reborn.

“I didn’t realize something so simple could summon you to me,” Reborn remarked flatly as he ran a finger down Leon’s spine, where the chameleon was perched on his knee. His shiny (new) dress shoes were up on the metal table, and the man really was too comfortable looking where he was. Reborn kept his eyes on his Chameleon.

Harry placed his hands on his hips, “your actions didn’t summon me.”

“Didn’t they?”

“Of course not!” Harry hissed.

“The girl summoned him,” Viper listed off, head tilting just slightly.

Liliana instantly coiled up, “I’m not a girl!” She exhaled with as much vehemence as she could in her need to validate herself as an adult rather than a child. Which was enough for most people. But even when Harry acknowledged that fact, he also felt completely unbothered by her attempts to claw herself on to the same platform that Harry and the Arcobaleno stood upon. It was amusing. Harry was torn between humoring her or poking her himself to see what she would do with another insult.

… wisely, he decided on neither. And ignored her words.

“I’m still waiting for my son to wake up,” Harry chose to say.

Reborn stilled his stroking of Leon, and calmly picked up Leon and placed the animal on his tie. Leon instantly curled himself up, making himself seem like a false decoration. Viper was the one that stood. Their chair silently pushing back as they stood. “Come see the rest of us,” Viper motioned toward the main compound. Where the offices and meeting rooms were.

“Fon is awake,” Reborn added.

Harry flinched, automatically taking a few steps away from the hitman.

Well…

…. Well….

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, tucking his fingers in to the crooks of his elbows.

… Harry didn’t want to go and see Fon. There was copper in his mouth, and red in the corners of his eyes at the thought. But he knew—he knew Fon wasn’t to blame for this. It was Frank. And it was Harry. That was where the potion had started. Harry swiftly clawed at his memories for something good of Fon. Something to focus on. But all he could think of immediately was the gut wrenching sensations induced by the potion. The antagonistic vehemence and pain.

Chills swept up and down his arms.

“… I’m sorry for it. Really.” Harry mumbled. He looked between the Arcobaleno and then turned away.

A flash of warmth through his entire body. Harry registered that first, and then the caging hand on his shoulder. A glance and he spotted Reborn’s too close poker face. Harry shrugged off the hand and stepped away.

“Stop that,” Harry said.

Reborn cocked his head to the side. Silent.

“The… warmth—thing. Whatever it is you’re doing, stop it.” Harry still felt it in his fingers.

“Ho? You notice that?” Reborn tipped his Fedora, half of his mouth quirking up in a smirk.

Harry brought his shoulders up higher. “I’ve always noticed it.” Even as Skull, he had noticed it. Although he hadn’t always noticed it. Mostly after the curse, it had become apparent to him.

The hum Reborn sounded was short, and Harry wanted to call it mocking. But he was starting to think that anything Reborn voiced would always be so. It was like a vocalized ‘resting bitch face’, as his memories for Skull gleefully supplied as a title.

“Aren’t you going to answer me?” Harry asked, a bit more tired than annoyed.

“Aren’t you going to ask a question?” Reborn was swift and merciless.

Harry decided that this was going to go nowhere, and turned his thoughts to better things. To the fact that Fon was awake and the potion was out of his system.

Where did he and the Arcobaleno stand?

Well—he could at least apologize to Fon to his face, for this mess that Harry had made and dragged Fon in to. Harry pulled out his wand, and felt the sudden tension that raced through Reborn and Viper.

“Point me, Fon.” Harry let his wand twirl in his palm, and point.

“… That one, you could have asked.” Reborn reached out toward the wand.

Harry was swift to use his other hand to smack Reborn’s offending fingers away. Harry made sure to swiftly step forward as he did so, and grinned at the sharp hiss Reborn did. Harry’s grin grew bigger as he swiftly stepped forward again and away from Reborn’s grip. And chuckled at Viper’s quick under their breath chide to Reborn as the Arcobaleno told him in rather rude Italian to ‘quit it’.

Liliana dropped in to a jog next to Harry, stepping in to place next to Harry as Harry led the way.

The walk was… tense.

Harry felt hyper aware of all of them. Like sandpaper to his brain. (Which, thankfully, he had never experienced. But also a saying that didn’t quite make sense due to the fact that the brain did not feel pain—Harry stopped his trail of thoughts, and wondered when, as Skull, he had time to absorb so much strange information… probably from television binging. Not much to do outside of Mafioso business as a toddler when he wasn’t ripping himself apart…) Reborn and Viper behind him. Liliana walking fast to walk ahead and lead the way… and Fabian and the Lovegood trailing behind the whole group.

And here he was, walking to the source of his unease, discomfort, and guilt.

Harry didn’t slow down his stride as he moved. And that was why he came to stop before a room.

… and also because Lal was sitting outside of it in a fancy looking chair.

… cleaning a gun.

“When did you even fire that thing?” Harry couldn’t help but ask, even as he clenched his hand around his wand and canceled the location spell. He shoved the wand away, and focused on Lal as she watched him.

It was familiar and soothing. That look.

It also made his hair stand up and made his heart drum a little harder. He knew that look. The sharp inspection. Looking for weakness.

(This duality of the senses was. Not. Appreciated.)

She minutely pursed her lips and looked away.

“It’s meditative. You were taking too long.” She added, glancing to Harry out of the corner of his eye,

… well, he wasn’t going to apologize for spending time with his family. No matter the not subtle hints that Lal was dropping to the floor with the finesse of a Niffler on the scent of something expensive.. Harry could step over these word land mines with ease. Harry stuck his hands in to his pockets and looked to the door that Lal was sitting in front of.

“Is Fon by himself?” Harry asked.

“Verde is inside,” Reborn added, turning to lean his back against the door next to Lal. His eyes were locked on to Harry, and Harry ignored the shiver he could feel coming along. There was just something about this stare that made him want to freeze in place and pray that the hitman didn’t actually see him.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and squared himself up as he faced the two Arcobaleno. Viper gave a sigh and slipped by the two to enter the room. Harry watched him go, and didn’t let himself look around for support to this strange standoff. To Fabian, to Liliana, to the Lovegood—Harry didn’t look to them, but they all fell in to step to stand next to him in the hall.

Reborn looked amused. And irritated.

Never a fun time, when those two mixed.

“Some privacy, if you’d be so kind,” Reborn made a point to over enunciate as he looked to Liliana.

Harry felt that headache. Again. It felt a bit bigger.

“Carcassa land.” Liliana stated cleanly.

Harry rather wished to stun the both of him and finish his business without them.

“Arcobaleno business.” Reborn refuted.

“And I’m done with the posturing,” Harry rubbed an eye and stepped over to the door. It was cracked open from where Viper hadn’t bothered to finish closing the door.

“Skull—“ Liliana started, and then ate her words.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll finish this up and I’ll return shortly.” Harry stated firmly as he put a hand on the door handle. It was cool to the touch. He looked over his shoulder to make eye contact to Liliana. He watched her press her bloodless lips together. Watched her eyes dart to Reborn and Lal, and then back to Harry.

She was afraid.

… for him.

“I’ll be fine—promise.” Harry added.

(It was questionable if she was scared for him and what the Arcobaleno could do, or if she was scared that the potion remained and will shortly trigger him in to a rage that they had never experienced before…)

Liliana slowly nodded, and left. Her elements trailing.

Now that he had Reborn and Lal here, well…

Harry let out a sigh as he dropped his arms—and he barely resisted glancing to the closest window. Instead, he looked over to where Lal had never stopped cleaning her gun. She was firmly in the realm of reassembly now. Reborn was leaning an elbow against the back of her chair, and squarely watching Harry.

“I have a question…” Harry trailed.

Lal finished clicking her gun together, and gently laid it across her lap before she turned her head and firmly looked to Harry.

“… You said, Yuni…” Harry halted, and restarted, “you, Lal, implied—that Yuni brought you here. But no one has said… if…” Harry tried to keep from mentally scattering. But it was like trying to grasp smoke in his hands.

Lal glanced between Harry and Reborn, and after some awkward silence, she spoke to Reborn, “you’re going to leave him like that?”

“He is trying to assert his independence.” Reborn simply stated as he reached in to a pocket and shook out a cigarette. “Who am I to get in the way of that?”

Harry stiffened up, what was Reborn implying?

“I am independent,” Harry kept his tone as flat as possible.

Reborn hummed and lit a cigarette.

The back of his neck felt like it was on fire.

“This asshole said he was peaking in to windows to find me—but you saw them feed me my medications—which means that you lingered. You’re not that type,” Harry eventually bit out after straightening out his spine.

Reborn just let out a puff of smoke.

… oh right… ask a question.

“Why did you wait?” Harry did his best to not chew on his words as he hissed them out.

Reborn tilted his head to the side, and slowly reached up and took the cigarette out of his mouth. He held it daintily between his fingers.

“You saw them administrating something you thought was a sedative or something more nefarious—why didn’t you burst in and stop it?” Harry knew that this would only bother Reborn. But it was a question that was nagging on him a bit.

But Harry had said his question. And he would wait. It was like waiting for his children to admit to their wrongdoing. He had practice. He could outlast Reborn.

Lal was the one that broke first. Her nose wrinkled and she hopped to her feet. “He bitched about the windows being shatter proof. And then about how he couldn’t force it open.” She sounded amused, although there was an undercurrent of something that Harry couldn’t quiet put a name to. Not yet, at least. Not when he was still trying to reacclimatize to the Arcobaleno.

“You should have heard him swearing—he thinks he can be so creative, but when the real frustration sets in he swears like all the common gutter trash.” Lal was all teeth and side eyes to Reborn, who looked resolutely anywhere but at Lal.

Well… magic was the simple answer to that.

But Reborn had still come in through the window. Reborn might be the world’s greatest Hitman… but he still wasn’t magic.

“But how? How did you get in through the window?” Harry asked.

Reborn took in a large inhale of his cigarette, and as he slowly let it out he dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his foot. Smearing grey ash over the marble tile floor. The white marble. When Harry’s eyes finished tracking the movement of Reborn’s foot and focused once more on Reborn’s face—Reborn spoke, finally.

“Someone let me in,” Reborn said.

…. Why? Who?

“Who was it?” Harry asked, hushed.

“Why don’t you talk to that old man? The one that smells like a apothecary.” Lal said, side eyeing Reborn.

“The one you called ‘Albus’.” Reborn tacked on, the corners of his lips curling as he stuck his hands in his pockets and casually leaned back. “He—“

“No.” Harry’s voice cracked through the air as he pointed a finger at Reborn.

“No?” Reborn echoed, face expressionless.

“No,” Harry repeated again. “You don’t get to manipulate me like that.”

“Is the truth really manipulation?” Reborn asked.

“It is from you. You… you twist things. You just, just… twist the truth to get a… a reaction. You’ve always done it.” Harry accused, ignoring the crawling itch of memories on his brain. Reborn never truly outright lied to the Arcobaleno. But he withheld things. And twisted things. “I’m not a toy.” Harry firmly added. Because he did not exist for Reborn’s amusement.

Reborn hummed, head tilting for a moment before he snorted.

“No, you are not a toy.” He agreed, mildly.

As mild as Harry’s anger felt. It wasn’t even really anger. He felt more… resigned. And distanced.

Skull might have needed the Arcobaleno to keep from ripping himself apart.

… but Harry didn’t. He didn’t need to appease or work hard for the justification of his own existence.

“Albus still opened the window,” Reborn added as a parting verbal jab.

Harry clenched his teeth and crossed his arms once more.

“… we also got an anonymous tip off… Yuni was the one that took the call. And we were directed here.” Lal added, voice a bit softer as she focused in on Harry.

“… is she here?” Harry asked, just as hushed.

“No. She decided it was best that she didn’t.” Lal glanced to Reborn before she spoke.

Harry straightened up his posture before he could hunch too far over.

… that was probably for the best.

“… What happened to you, Skull?” Lal eventually said.

Hadn’t Reborn said the same thing? Harry didn’t know.

Harry bit down on his tongue to stop the automatic ‘nothing’ from falling out. He didn’t need to incite anyone in trying to guess ‘what’ had ‘happened’ to him. Instead, Harry turned and shoved through the door.

There was Viper—standing in front of a window.

There was Verde, sitting in a chair with his head tilted back, looking bored but also disturbing at the same time. Harry had never cared much for doctors. And knowing what he now knew of Verde, well…

Reborn and Lal at his back.

“Colonnello?” Harry asked, eyes sweeping the room.

“Up here,” Colonnello called from where he had knocked out a ceiling tile and had made himself a sniper nest. Harry stared for a moment, and decided not to address the insanity.

And, finally… he allowed himself to look at the bed.

To Fon.

Harry clenched his teeth tight as every muscle in his body tried to lock up. It took a moment to shake himself loose. And a moment longer before he could fully meet Fon’s eyes. Calm, like a horse. But Harry didn’t doubt that Fon could be far more deadly than a simple horse. The man didn’t look injured now, but… well…

Harry coughed in to his hand and kept his arms crossed over his chest as he shuffled enough in to the room where he could move to the side and not have Reborn and Lal at his back. “Well…” Harry started, and then stopped.

Reborn closed the door firmly. Lal went and took the last open chair.

The chairs were rather fancy, and did not fit at all in the hospital décor. Too warm.

“I guess…. I guess it’s about, uh, time. We all talked. Isn’t it.” Harry eventually concluded. While he didn’t much enjoy confrontations… he seemed to have a special kind of luck in always needing to make them. It was easier to confront children for being naughty, rather than grown men and women who had a particular skill set that involved ending human lives.

Harry sighed, “hello.”

“… Hello.” Fon echoed.

Harry didn’t stop his shoulders from jumping up and hiding his ears from sight. No, not his best moment.

“… So… well—this is going to be terrible… my name is Harry. Not… not Skull. It’s really complicated. And I’m… not doing so great of a job…” Harry cut himself off and let out a sigh.

Reborn hummed from where he was leaning against the door—and conveniently blocking the door exist, just as Viper was blocking the windows—and opened his mouth, “you speak better in scenarios where you’re in danger.”

“I’m not a diplomat,” Harry hissed before he straightened himself out. He didn’t hear the mumbled ‘too right’ fast enough to catch who had mumbled it.

“How about I ask questions, and you answer them,” Reborn shot in before Harry could stumble through another round of indirect conversation that didn’t truly have a point. Harry glanced around the room, and found that most of the Arcobaleno was watching Reborn. Few had eyes on him, aside from Viper (which was more felt than seen, really).

Harry shifted, “fine,” and found a bit of wall to press his own back against it.

“You’re calling yourself ‘Harry Potter.’” Reborn said.

“Not a question—but yes.” Harry suppressed the urge to bare his teeth. He never could help but poke at those in positions of power. Snape had never appreciated it. Reborn obviously didn’t, either.

“You admitted to Fon that you’re British.”

“Once again, not a question—but yeah, British.”

Reborn’s eyes narrowed minutely. And he pulled out another cigarette.

“You’ve been remembering your time as ‘Skull’, correct?” Reborn continued.

“Yeah. It’s not… it’s not the most… coherent. But I know enough.” Harry added.

Reborn cocked an eyebrow, “enough to associate with us again?” Oh, that was a dig.

“Debatable, really. You’re kind of a dick.” Harry nearly laughed when Reborn almost crumbled his cigarette.

“… so the Carcassa elders are your kids?” Viper asked from the window, viciously cutting in to Reborn’s questioning for answers that they already knew. As it was, there were more important things to ask about. “How old are you?” Because they had seen the elders. And they were at death’s door, so to speak.

“Yeah, they’re mine…. I was born in 1980. So…” Harry trailed, not bothering to count his age as he glanced up to Colonnello to catch the pursed look the blond was sporting over the information.

“Who is Frank?” Reborn asked.

Harry stiffened up, and forced himself to not bolt. At this point… at this point magic was dead. Who even cared at this point? Harry rubbed his upper arms with his hands as he glanced around the room… and eventually settled on looking at Viper. Viper was the one that didn’t show their face. It just… made them seem less loud to look at.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slow. “… Frank is the reason why your Skull is dead, and Colonnello had his eyes yanked out of his… skull.” Harry added the last bit lamely. Well, it looked like his daughter wasn’t the only one that stumbled upon a ‘Frank’ slip up. Colonnello didn’t look happy with the reminder.

“You’re not… is your head alright?” Harry eventually asked.

“… Yeah. I don’t have headaches… what’d you do?” Colonnello asked. His chin pillowed on his arms from where he was peering through his hole in the ceiling down at them.

“… re-grew your eyes.” Harry murmured, and dropped his gaze to look at someone else.

Well, that was met with a bit of silence.

“… so… Frank.” Reborn prompted. And was it just Harry, or was Reborn a little bit closer?

“… he staged the kidnapping. Brought us to England and… well… woke me up.” Harry dropped his folded arms, if only to gesture at his own body.

“Now… why would he go and do a thing like that…” Reborn muttered to himself.

Fon spoke before Harry could, “this… Frank—obviously needs something that… Harry, can provide.” The man spoke carefully. His tone measured and controlled. But even with that, for a moment Harry almost saw red. It dissipated swiftly, the feeling or rage turning to apathy wasn’t something Harry wanted to experience often.

“… I’m not… sure… if he wanted my power, or my allegiance… or just my magic…” Harry sighed and rubbed his face, and winced as his fingers brushed over the bigger scars.

Lal tapped her heels on the floor absently, “this magic thing—doesn’t seem widely used. Why is that?”

Harry wrinkled his nose, “… the toll got too high.” He eventually decided upon.

“… what’s the toll?” Reborn asked.

… from right next to Harry.

Harry found himself unsurprised and not jumping in surprise over the sudden relocation of Reborn’s person. It was only expected, really. “… not too sure—that’s not… this happened, started to happen, while I was… not myself. I’m not… It’s… it’s the health. It’s why my son is bid ridden now.” Harry crossed his arms.

“… perhaps the soul, then.” Reborn murmured, because as flame centric Mafioso, they all believed in such a thing. It was substantial to them, after all. The manifestation of their ‘soul’ as ‘flames’.

“… perhaps.” Harry lamely echoed.

“Did you kill Frank?” Colonnello broke the silence.

And, well… Harry didn’t answer, and merely didn’t look up to Colonnello. Reborn gave an aggrieved sigh, and Harry resisted kicking the man in the shins.

“Frank is Carcassa business, now.” Harry eventually decided.

“Not if the Arcobaleno gets him first,” Lal pointed out from her seat, making a gun shape with her hand and gave a few pretend shots toward Colonnello, who retaliated in turn with his finger pistols.

Harry felt almost… pained, when he said, “that’s not how that works.”

“It is now,” Reborn grinned down at Harry. An obvious, ‘what are you going to do about it?’ expression on his face. If Harry could so clearly read his face, then Reborn was obviously projecting at him. Which meant that Reborn was manipulating.

… and damn if Harry wasn’t rising to the occasion. He really should know better, by now.

“Not if I get him first.” Harry declared. Because sooner or later Frank would come for him. He better beat the man to the punch, so to speak. And end this before there were too many casualties. Harry didn’t need any more unnecessary deaths.

Reborn definitely looked smug. He leaned forward and in to Harry’s space.

“Wanna bet?”

Harry could see where Reborn was going.

“… we can’t go back to the way things were. Life doesn’t work like that.” The words came out before Harry could think better about it. Harry watched all of the expression drain from Reborn’s face. Like flipping a switch. Harry wondered if those emotions had been real, or if Reborn just had extreme control and was able to cover disappointment at the drop of a hat. He cleared his throat, and couldn’t look away from Reborn.

“I might have most of my memories from when I was Skull… but I came first. I… I… I deserve to live. And be myself. I am Harry Potter, and I exist. And I—“ Harry jerked when Reborn’s hand shot out and hooked in to the corner of his mouth with a thumb to pull his cheek hard to the side.

“I’m not giving up. I’m your senpai.” Reborn stated simply.

The thumb garbled Harry’s words, so he stuck out his tongue at Reborn as he loosened his arms to retaliate and then—

Reborn paused, and the angle of his hand changed and Harry jerked when Reborn was no longer pulling at his cheek, but squeezing at the stone. He knocked Reborn’s hand away so hard the sound of a slap reverberated in the air.

The air felt… colder.

“… what was that.” Reborn didn’t demand, and didn’t ask. But he… expected.

Harry felt his throat constrict. “… Nothing.”

“That didn’t feel like nothing.” Reborn stated, his eye fixated on the scar. Harry raised a hand and pressed it over his cheek. Reborn’s eyes fixated on his hand. On the puffiest of the scars. The ones that held the stones. “Noneyourbusiness—“ Harry hissed.

“What is it?” Verde asked, caging Harry in from the other side. His face a careful expression of clinical disinterest that had Harry’s hackles rise. Skull had never meshed with Verde, not like anyone else. But then again, Verde really wasn’t like the rest of them. He was so… self-absorbed and distant. It really was a miracle that he had stayed this long, in Harry’s opinion. “Is it the seal? I have been suspecting a subcutaneous tissue seal.” The man cocked his head to the side.

Harry distantly felt all of the muscles in his leg tense.

And was promptly shoved in to a chair that had been maneuvered in to his space.

Reborn’s hand came down on his right arm, and pressed it tight to the arm of the chair. Both hands. Clenching hard and blocking access to his wand.

… Harry didn’t need his wand to do simple magic. Reborn had obviously been watching where he had been storing his wand.

Harry felt a grip on his left forearm and turned to see Lal there.

(So what if he suddenly had reflexive tears—that didn’t matter. This was making him angry.)

“So, we found the seal, then.” Verde asked, looking satisfied.

“Appears so,” Lal answered.

Harry turned his chin to the side, deflecting that specific scar from Verde’s view. “It’s not what you think, asshole.”

“What is it, then?” Verde asked, pulling on a set of rubber gloves from his pocket.

“H.. hey, should we really…?” That was Colonnello. He got a swift hush from Reborn.

“It’s not what you think,” Harry promised, shifting to pry his arms free. Reborn might be a lost cause, but Lal, well.

“Harry—won’t you let us just examine the one spot?” Fon asked, a hand on Verde’s shoulder to stop the man’s reach forward. “Sealing a flame isn’t good. It can make you deteriorate.”

Harry felt… flat. Nothing. He felt nothing for Fon. For good or for ill. And perhaps that was for the best. Harry took in a deep breath and let it out, and then promptly glared up at Lal until she slowly let go of his arm. Harry let out a sharp breath and moved his arm back to his person. He looked to Reborn, and knew that was a lost cause (and who cared if Reborn was doing that warmth-thing that was making the ache in his bones a little easier—).

Harry focused on Fon and Verde. “… I doubt that there is a seal… This… those… the flames—they had to have come from that I have. From magic. I don’t think I can… even if I wanted to—go back to Skull.”

Fon frowned.

“There has been scientific evidence that once Flames are unlocked, they cannot be put away once more,” Verde spoke flatly.

Harry gave a little shrug. It didn’t matter to him, really.

“What is it?” Reborn asked.

Harry pressed his lips together.

“… like a magic version of… a computer virus?” Harry had clawed through his head to find an appropriate equalization amongst muggles. Of course, relating himself to a computer wasn’t the best. But it got the point across.

“It was firm. Like a sub dermal implant.” Reborn stated to Verde.

Harry sighed and used his free hand to rub at his face.

“I’m going to get them removed.” Harry said.

“Them.”

“Yes.” Harry bit out.

“Who is doing the surgery, then?” Fon asked, a source of calm between Reborn’s subliminal annoyance and Harry’s growing need to throw them away and gain some space.

Harry gave a little shrug, “… I was hoping the goblins…”

“… goblins?” Harry heard from behind the wall of people in front of him. Viper?

Reborn finally let go of his arm.

Harry yanked it away and crossed his arms over his chest before Reborn could attempt to take it back.

“… Has Skull even had a doctor check up?” Harry caught the tail end of some conversation between Fon, Verde, and Viper. There was a negative headshake from Viper after Fon placed a bill in Viper’s hand.

“Not since… the event.” Viper admitted.

Harry closed his eyes and tilted his head back for a moment. He took a breath and let it out slow. He only opened his eyes when he felt Reborn’s looming. Harry didn’t speak, and merely stared until Reborn spoke.

“Have Verde check you over.” Reborn ordered.

“No.” Harry said simply.

Reborn stared down at him.

“It’s none of your business.”

Reborn continued to stare down.

“It’s outside of your scope of knowledge.”

Still. Staring.

“Because I said no.” Harry eventually hissed, and jumped to his feet. Not waiting for Verde and Fon to step back. The two stumbled back after Harry knocked in to him. But Harry didn’t feel bad about it. It was their fault for crowding.

“I see you’re fine,” Harry concluded to Fon, slapped Reborn’s hand away, and slipped around Fon and out of the door. Harry fast walked away and down the hall.

And ignored Colonnello as the blond fell in to step next to him. Colonnello didn’t say anything, and merely followed along. Harry made his wait to the outside. It was late morning now. And he was already too tired.

… he supposed to needed to find some goblins.

…. Better get Liliana and run his plan through her. He doubted he could approach the goblins without them fearing another assault on their race. Harry rubs his face and lets out a sigh.

“… can’t we help?” Colonnello asked quietly.

Harry paused and looked over. And remembered Colonnello as the man that found him in a bathroom and sat with him until he felt better. Till the world wasn’t so overwhelming and…. And he softened, just a little. “… unless one of you can magically heal me—I don’t see how.”

“Reborn can,” Colonnello offered simply.

“… bullshit.” Harry hissed.

“It’s the truth,” Colonnello said, adjusting the strap of his shouldered gun. He shoved his hands in to his pockets. “He is the best at it…. What exactly are they?”

Harry sighed at Colonnello’s obvious fishing for information.

But… why not.

It was Colonnello, after all.

“… they’re stones. Magic stones. They were ritually implanted everywhere… they… I think they’re the things that switched my magic off, and let them twist to… flames. They also… altered… other parts of me. Which is why I can’t be Skull. Not for anyone. Not even if I try.” It was just not who he was  on a fundamental level. There were similarities, but Harry had never been a blank canvas.

“… how many?” Colonnello asked.

“… um… I think… a hundred and something… varying sizes… they work in sync with each other… I need something… more than Mafioso.” Harry eventually bit out, and looked to Colonnello out of the corner of his eye. Colonnello looked serious enough.

“Alright—so.. we’re gunna talk to some… goblins?”

“… we?”

“Of course. You’re not the first to change your name.” Colonnello gave a little shrug. He looked away. “… I feel better, knowing you’re doing alright.”

Harry pressed his lips together and fully turned to face Colonnello.

Colonnello rambled on. “I mean… the you now… and the you before—you’re very different. But at the same time I see the old you in the actions that you do now. But more… complete.” The Mafioso said.

Harry raised his hands and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Look. Colonnello… the only me there is, you realize, is me. I am as I am. The me that you… trampled. That you hurt—I don’t stand for that. Not anymore. I’m not a toy to care for, and stomp on for entertainment in intervals.” Harry pointed out. Watching Colonnello squint his eyes at the dirt with his lips pressed together.

Colonnello let out a puff of air before he softly said, “yes… I know that… I… I never should have taken things as far as they went. I was… I was angry. And you were annoying and… and just such an easy target.” Colonnello’s shoulder slumped.

“… you do realize what you just said, right?” Harry pointed out.

Colonnello tipped his head back with a grimace. “Yes. Yes, I know exactly what.”

“I’ll never allow you to do it again.” Harry firmly stated.

Colonnello tilted his head to the side, blinked, and then grinned. “Yeah?”

Harry watched Colonnello’s face for a moment. Saw the careful kindling of hope. And perhaps Colonnello cared more than Skull had ever assumed. Or perhaps… perhaps… Skull had really viewed it as some demented form of violent play. Perhaps Colonnello was the same. Perhaps neither of them knew better.

“Never again,” Harry said. And offered the olive branch.

Colonnello grinned, and carefully telegraphed his moves to drop an arm over Harry’s shoulders. “I’ll still win at sparring.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “if you can catch me.”

Colonnello squawked, much like Falco did. And then promptly started to rub his knuckled in to the top of Harry’s hair.

It was like…

…. It was like Ron was back. Right there with him.

Harry… Harry laughed and swatted Colonnello’s hand away.

“C’mon. Let’s go see the goblins… somehow.”

He would get ready for Frank.

(And after that… after that he’ll consider… everything else. Everything else could wait.)