How We Met Your Mother

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

General Warnings: AU in both HP-verse and KHR-verse, sometimes including the Arcobaleno either not yet being cursed, or the Curse not happening at all. In fact, it's safe to assume that I've completely tossed canon timelines out the window; Fem!Harry; MoD!Harry; Teddy-is-Skull;

Summary: There is one secret above all others that Skull had kept from the other Arcobaleno: his mother, Holly Potter. He could only stare in horror as the two worlds collided.

Author's Notes: I've read and really enjoyed several stories where Harry-is-Skull, and that enjoyment led to a series of possible ideas for HP x KHR crossovers. This is the first one I started writing and the two sentences in a later chapter where Viper/Mammon realizes just who Skull's mother is ("The Woman-Who-Conquered was Skull's mother. They were so screwed.") ended up spawning a dozen more ideas.

This is going to be a series of unrelated shorts, unless otherwise specified at the beginning of a chapter. This first chapter is just a history for Skull, giving you an idea of how Teddy Lupin became Skull de Mort; each chapter after this one – and I have no idea how many there will be, or how long each one will be – will be a new way that the Arcobaleno could have met Skull's mother. There is always a possibility of a chapter someday being expanded on into its own story/little universe, but I make no guarantees simply because I don't want to get anyone's hopes up and then it not happen.

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Boring.

Being around the Arcobaleno had become boring. Dull. Routine. It was so easy to fool them now; there was no challenge to be had in finding just the right balance of fear and bravado that would trick them into believing that he was nothing more than what they thought he was.

Idiot. Weakling. Coward.

He had his moments of stupidity, sure, who didn't? His were just better known because he didn't bother hiding them like the others did. Weakling? What did you expect when you took a civilian with no previous experience with either the Mafia or the Flames they wielded and threw them in with a group of the Strongest Flame Users in the Mafia? Of course he was going to look weak and stupid.

Coward. Well. He wasn't going to argue against that.

He was a coward because he valued his life; he was a coward because being brave so often meant giving up one's life. And he wasn't willing to do that, not by any means. (Not when his life was so valuable, was one of the few things holding his most precious person to the world.)

But he was neither stupid nor weak. If he were either, he never would've been able to pull the wool over the eyes of the collective Arcobaleno for so long, never would have had them convinced that they knew everything about him, knew all his secrets, all his motivations, when in reality their knowledge barely skimmed the surface of who he was.

They didn't know what he really looked like.

They didn't know his real name.

And they definitely didn't know that there was one thing he valued more than his life, one secret he protected above all others.

His mother, Holly Potter.

.

When all was said and done, the fight against Voldemort became known as The Blood War and was divided into sections for ease of study by historians.

But for those who lived it, it felt like a nightmare they couldn't quite wake up from.

Voldemort's First Rise to Power had largely been a shadow game, with twice as many battles fought in the Wizengamot and behind closed doors than actually in the field. There were skirmishes, quick and dirty, between Death Eaters and Aurors, but for those of the Light, it felt like they were always one step behind the enemy, always scrambling to play catch up.

While some Aurors - James Potter and Sirius Black, Frank Longbottom and Amelia Bones, the Prewett Brothers - became well-known for their battle prowess and ability to not only survive but win the confrontations, it was still obvious to many that the Light was being beat back, slowly and methodically losing its every foothold.

They were winning the battles, but losing the war.

Then, a miracle.

Voldemort, defeated at the hands of a babe, but at the cost of Lily and James Potter's lives.

And for thirteen years, there was peace, the majority of the Magical population happy to believe the Dark Lord was defeated for good, that the dark times were behind them, that they no longer had anything to fear.

But a select few knew better, knew that something had happened that night in Godric's Hollow, something they could not explain. And with the knowledge that not all was as it seemed, they hedged their bets and placed their faith in the one year old pulled from the wreckage of her nursery, alive and unharmed but for the lightning bolt scar on her forehead.

Years later, with the threat of war looming over them and the very real possibility of it being bloodier and more violent than Voldemort's First Rise, it came as no surprise that many witches and wizards began to pair off. It was obvious even in the halls of Hogwarts, where those in the same year as the Girl-Who-Lived began to cling to each other with a new kind of desperation, friendships and relationships alike springing up where none had seemed likely before.

Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks were one such pairing.

It was a combination of grief over the death of Sirius Black and the fear of the oncoming war that drove them into each other's arms. But once there, Tonks had refused to let Remus go, had held onto him in spite of all the reasons he would give as to why they were bad for each other.

A little under a year after their first time together, on the 23rd of April, they welcomed Edward Remus Lupin into the world. The very same day, in a floo call to Dumbledore's office, they asked Holly Potter to be his godmother.

(She hadn't smiled so brightly since before Sirius' death.)

.

The Blood War started in earnest six months later and lasted for seven long years.

.

Teddy was six when his father died. Three months later, he was an orphan.

Afterwards, all he would hear from everyone was "how brave" and "how noble" his parents were, as if their deaths were somehow good or right. As if their deaths were somehow okay because at least they "went out like true Gryffindors." He hated those words, hated how often they were associated with death during the war, hated how those two stupid words were used as justification, as if dying bravely, dying nobly, was a goal they should all aspire to.

He hated it, hated the war, and hated everything.

.

(He had locked himself in his parents' bedroom, curled up beneath the blankets of their bed, trying to memorize their scents around his tears when he'd heard the door unlock and creak open. When he heard nothing else, he had lowered the blankets and peered out. A petite woman with shoulder-length black hair and weary green eyes kneeled at the bedside, looking at him sadly.

Holly had returned from the battlefield. She was dirty, in need of food, healing, and a shower, but instead she knelt before him like a woman faced with her executioner.

"Do you hate me, Teddy-bear?" she'd asked quietly, voice trembling. "Do you hate me for not finishing this war before it took the lives of your parents? Do you blame me?"

He had wanted to say yes. He had wanted to scream at her and cry and curl up in her arms all at once. He had wanted to hate her, wanted to blame her. But he hadn't been able to. He hadn't been able to blame Holly, hadn't been able to hate the only parental figure he had left. He hadn't been able to hate the woman who'd read him bedtime stories and held him when he cried, who had snuck him a piece of chocolate when it was meant to be rationed for recovering from Dementor exposure, who had taught him and played with him.

He hadn't been able to hate the woman who cried herself to sleep at night rather than show the people she led any weakness, who personally added the names of the fallen to the memorial wall within Hogwarts. He hadn't been able to hate her, not when her face brightened with love and happiness and hope whenever she saw him.

"No. I love my Aunt Holly."

She smiled even through her tears.)

.

On Teddy's seventh birthday, his only gift was a mother.

With the adoption official, Holly became the foundation upon which he built his life.

.

His foundation was shaken when, to end the War, his mother walked bravely, nobly to her death. Like a true Gryffindor.

When everything was over, he and his mother – alive! – lay in her bed, clinging to each another like they were both the only thing keeping the other grounded. It came to him suddenly that, just as she was his foundation, he was the center of her world.

And with that realization, his thoughts spilled over into words.

He told her that for the five minutes he thought her dead, he had hated her. That those five minutes were the longest of his short life, that the hurt he'd felt had made him want to die. If he'd felt that way, then he couldn't imagine how she would feel if he were to somehow die because hadn't Grandma always told him that when a child hurts, their parent hurts three times as much?

He told her that he never wanted to be brave, never wanted to be noble, not if it meant dying because dying meant hurting her, dying meant leaving her alone.

"That's alright, Teddy-bear," she whispered. "I'll love you anyway."

.

As soon as they could, Teddy and his mother retreated to one of the many houses she had inherited and, together, made a home. He had spent the first eight years of his life in the Hogwarts Castle, but that house, hidden away in a forest in the middle of nowhere, became his true home. The few uninterrupted years he got to spend there were some of the best of his life.

.

Returning to Hogwarts for schooling was… Difficult. Not just because he hadn't wanted to leave his mom, but because being back in Hogwarts, being around so many familiar faces, felt like going back in time, like returning to the war.

It wasn't just him either; countless other students felt the same way. Many of those in the higher years were students who had actually been sorted during the war, their lessons taught between war councils and their lessons largely practical and revolving around the War.

All the students were the children of families who had sought refuge in the Castle during the War.

.

Teddy and his mother both were unsurprised when he was sorted into Slytherin.

There were some whispers from the students, of course, wondering how he could be a Slytherin when his parents, biological and adopted, were so brave, so noble, but it was quickly dismissed. They had grown up with Teddy, knew he was both biological and adopted child of a Marauder; they figured it was only fitting that his cunning would see him become a member of the Slytherin house.

Besides, it was a sign of true change that a half-blood was sorted into Slytherin and accepted so easily.

.

Thankfully, his years at Hogwarts passed quickly.

He always did his best in class, often scoring within the top five of his year. He did well on both OWLs and NEWTs, became Prefect and then went on to become Head Boy. At least three weeks every summer break was spent at home with just him and his mom before they were off, traveling the world or visiting family.

.

It was during one of those trips – to Egypt, actually, visiting Bill and Fleur – that Teddy discovered he had inherited more than just his metamorphamagus abilities from the Black family line.

Though they had been reassured that all the traps within the tomb had been cleared out, it was clear that his mom's luck had acted up and they had stumbled upon a booby trap that had quickly done its best to succeed where Voldemort had ultimately failed. Without even thinking, he had dove to cover his mom with his body; terrified and yet determined to see her live no matter what, he had hoped for a minor miracle.

And he got it when purple flames sprung up around him in a wall of protection.

They had made it through a little worse for wear, but alive.

Their plans for the rest of the summer were canceled and they returned to their home, diving into research to discover the source and the meaning behind the purple flames. They didn't have much luck, only that they were called 'Dying Will Flames' and that throughout history, members of the Black family capable of producing the strange purple flames had sprung up. .

With a shrug, Teddy learned to control them and moved on with his life.

.

That first time he had produced the purple Dying Will flames had unlocked something within him. Suddenly, instincts that he had long ignored or written off were demanding more attention than ever. He prowled the boundaries of his and his mother's home, as if laying claim to it and searching for threats.

Yet, at the same time, he had this almost overwhelming urge to travel, to see the world, to challenge himself.

It was only being around his mother that helped him calm those urges, helped him reign in his temper as it got worse with age. Just by being around her, that raging flame within him calmed. And when he grew too bored, too restless, they would travel somewhere and she would give him a task, little challenges, like she had when he was little to help him learn things.

Pretend to be this kind of person. Trick the baker into giving you a pastry for free. Learn the names of that woman's children.

All little tasks that tested his abilities, his intellect, his cunning, that prepared him – unknowingly – for his future.

.

It came as no real surprise that three weeks after graduating from Hogwarts, Teddy grew restless. No matter how often he – ugh – patrolled the land around his home, no matter how many trips he and his mom took to visit family or just to see new things, no matter how much time he spent just being with his mom or doing her little challenges, the itch beneath his skin refused to ease.

He wanted to travel, wanted to do new things, wanted to challenge himself, but he couldn't do that anywhere in the magical world without being recognized as Teddy Lupin, even with his ability to change his appearance. His magic was too recognizable.

His mom, Merlin bless her, had pointed out the obvious.

If he couldn't travel in the magical world, then he should go to the muggle.

.

Skull de Mort was born August 8th. He was a lanky and a bit awkward, as if he'd just hit a growth spurt and still wasn't used to the new length of his limbs, and clumsy more often than not, as evidenced by the small bandage on his face. He had purple hair and purple eyes and had no shortage of piercings, a way of showing his individualism and rebelling against society.

Skull was cocky and full of himself, with an odd fascination for Japanese culture, and a tendency to refer to himself in the third person.

And Skull was a stuntman, seeking out new thrills and dangerous stunts to perform.

.

It was that need to challenge himself that was used against him not long after Skull was "born."

A man appeared wearing an iron hat and a checker faced mask and offered him a challenge.

How could he refuse?

He sent a letter to his mother and went on his merry way.

.

It just figured that he would end up cursed. His mother's luck had rubbed off after all.

.

Through the years, Skull had done his best to keep his two lives separate from each other.

Not because he was worried that his mother couldn't handle it. Please, his mother was Holly Potter; she wasn't going to be scared off by a little thing like the Mafia.

He was worried that the Mafia wouldn't survive his mother.

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This was the story - well, the first chapter of the story - that I meant to have out a couple of weeks ago before I went on vacation. It's a bit different, but it should be a fun journey.

For the record, I tend to quite literally edit as I write. I don't really have a beta either, so if you notice any mistakes, please feel free to point them out to me and I will correct them as soon as possible. :)

-D.