A/N: No, I have no idea where this is going... There'll be about three chapters, and then probably nothing for a year or so while I try to brainstorm an actual plotline for this .

Yes, I'm still working on my other stories. I'm literally chipping away at my writer's block for Pirate Conqueror a sentence or two at a time. It's very tedious.

Chapter One

Dudley's Home Tutor

The ride home started off quite tense as the Dursleys did their best to forget the group of wizards and witches that dared threaten them in the public of King's Cross station while Harry was doing his best to enjoy the moment as long as he could. It wouldn't last – his relatives were simply too ingrained in their ways to stay quiet.

Aunt Petunia broke first. "Well boy," she sniffed, "I hope you aren't getting any ideas about slacking off this summer. I know perfectly well you have none of your freakish homework to do and we have a guest staying in our home now."

Harry gaped. For one, it was galling that his aunt dared mention his summer assignments taking up his time since they never let him do any; for another, it was a shocking thought that Aunt Petunia knew there were no summer assignments after OWLs year.

"Smeltings sent a home tutor to stay with Dudley this summer and he'll be rooming with you. You will make sure he has a pleasant stay. I won't have you ruining this opportunity for my Diddy-dums. It's bad enough the school doesn't appreciate his intelligence and actually sent such an abnormal person."

Uncle Vernon grunted. "Strange man, it is. What's the problem with him again?"

Aunt Petunia sniffed again. "Dwarfism I believe. Can you believe the man wanted to sleep in the same room as Duddlykins at first? Thank goodness we convinced him to move out. What if he infected my poor baby?"

Harry knew the Dursleys would just love it if he was infected and started to shrink until he looked like those midgets on the telly. There was a documentary on dwarfism at some point, Harry thought. It was playing after Dudley fell asleep in front of the screen and Harry was supposed to dust the room quietly so as to not wake his cousin. He was pretty sure the narrator said it was a genetic disorder and not contagious, but the image of Dudley and Uncle Vernon shrinking into bowling balls and Aunt Petunia into a baseball bat made him snicker. Perhaps when he learned a bit of human transfiguration…?

The car pulled up to the house and the Dursleys climbed out of the car, leaving Harry to lug his trunk in. Hedwig was cooperatively silent as he carried her up the stairs before going back down for the rest of his stuff. Thankfully, Uncle Vernon hadn't bothered to lock up his things this summer, but Harry still planned to hide some things under the loose floorboard in case the man changed his mind. No school books, since there was no homework, but he would definitely need to safely store away his invisibility cloak and photo album since –

'No.' Harry firmly told himself. He would not think about the shattered mirror lying on the bottom of his trunk.

Opening the door, a light 'click' sound was Harry's only warning before a loud explosion blasted the door to bits.

"Bloody hell!" Harry cried out, pulling his wand out and directing it towards the cloud of smoke, ignoring the heat that singed his hair and skin. What was that? Surely there weren't Death Eaters in his room?

"Boy!" came a desperate and furious whisper from downstairs. "Put that freakish stick away you idiot boy! What have we told you about such things in the house?"

"But Aunt Petunia," Harry protested, shocked that his Aunt wasn't even bothering to comment on the fact that something clearly exploded in her house and was currently making a mess of the hallway.

"No buts! That's just the home tutor. He has strange hobbies, probably a result of that strange disease of his, but he cleans up after himself so just ignore it, you understand? And take a shower. I won't have you spreading that black soot all over my clean house."

Harry scowled but said nothing. The dust settled and Harry took a cautious peek into the room. There, sitting on his bed and surrounded by firearms of kinds was an toddler – no older than three – dressed impeccably in a business suit with shiny black shoes and a wide-brimmed fedora, on which was perched a chameleon.

"Ciao. You must be my student's cousin. I'm Reborn."

Harry blinked. This was the home tutor? The wizard wasn't quite sure what his relatives were smoking – perhaps Dudley hid some pot in the air vents? – but this was no dwarf. He didn't know why it was talking. He didn't know why it was dressed so formally. He sure as hell didn't know why it owned a collection of guns. One thing the boy wizard did know, however, was that this home tutor was most definitely in the physical body of a baby.

"Er, yeah, nice to meet you," Harry replied awkwardly. It probably wasn't a Death Eater. Most Death Eaters had too much misplaced pride to disguise themselves as a child and certainly wouldn't dare touch anything so muggle as a gun. They also couldn't possibly get past the wards, right? And he was quite sure Dumbledore still had a guard posted to keep an eye on him at all times. Not to mention that after a long car ride where he did his best to not remember the past year, he was just too tired to care. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter, and I, er, sleep here too, so if maybe we could figure out a way to let me come in without a bomb going off each time that'd be great."

"I will set the wires up around the bed from now on," the baby replied with a light Italian accent.

"Yeah," Harry nodded, turning to get his stuff. He couldn't really unpack while the other was watching, but maybe that wouldn't be necessary anymore. If the "home tutor" Reborn's hobby was explosions, his uncle probably wouldn't dare come in to take his trunk. "I'll, er, move the bed over some in just a bit if that's alright with you. I'll need to fit my cot in this room too."

"Closer to the door please."

Harry paused. Did he really want to be boxed into a room with a bomb-freak between him and the exit? On the other hand, what exactly would he say to change the person's mind? Oh, I'm sorry, but do you think I could take the door instead? I'd like a retreat path in case you try to kill me in my sleep. Harry snorted. If the baby wanted to kill him in his sleep, having a door wouldn't change a thing. Still…

"Sure," he agreed, "as long as you keep the window booby-trap free."

"Can't do that," the toddler stated calmly. "A trap-free window is just asking for a bullet."

Harry sighed harshly and grumbled irritated. "Just who's trying to kill you then, huh?" He stomped out the dusty doorway and shoved his trunk into the room and returned, slightly more gently, with Hedwig in hand. "Can I at least let my owl out?"

Reborn cocked his head and appeared to think it over a bit before jumping down from the lumpy mattress and walking over to the window. With a series of hops, the baby came away with a handful of wires and grenades. That kind of agility in a toddler was abnormal beyond even magic, but Harry didn't care anymore.

The rest of the day went smoothly. Reborn was the strangest thing Harry's seen since Voldemort's resurrection but if he ignored the little things that practically screamed professional-hit-man-in-a-baby's-body then the wizard could deal. Strong enough to push the bed with greater ease than Harry? Meh, at least the room was rearranged quickly enough for the two to arrive on time for dinner. Dinner was a tense affair where everyone tried to ignore everyone else and if the baby managed to reflect the spoonful of peas Dudley flicked at him straight into the boy's mouth so that the spoiled bully nearly choked? Meh, at least he didn't blame Harry like his aunt and uncle began to. Bedtime came quickly after washing the dishes, dusting the living room, and vacuuming the master bedroom, and if the door to his bedroom was fixed and the hallway cleaned by the time Harry lifted the vacuum up the steps? Meh, less work for Harry then.

Sleep, unfortunately, did not come soon after bedtime. Harry laid awake in his cot, easily ignoring the presence of another as he stared out the window. A star twinkled from a crack in the clouds and Harry pulled his thin sheet over his head. He wasn't going to think about it.

The next morning, Harry wanted nothing more than to languish in his cot. He wasn't hungry and he certainly didn't want to get up. Getting up meant the day would start again. Getting up and eating meant living and thinking for a whole day during which Harry was not going to get a letter from Sirius. Not today, not ever again.

Life did not agree. An hour after the sun rose, Reborn awoke and proceeded to wake his obese cousin. Harry wasn't quite sure how the baby did it, but there was an extremely impressive crash just minutes after he left the room followed by Dudley's furious cursing, threats, and finally cries for mercy.

Harry sighed. Clearly, the home tutor was doing a very good job of making Dudley miserable, and while he liked that thought very much, it meant Aunt Petunia would surely do her very best to make Harry even more miserable. Deciding to beat the system, even just a little, Harry got up to make breakfast.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon inhaled a dozen servings of bacon and hotcakes with a side of bangers and mash, all the while quaffing down coffee and soda pop. Aunt Petunia ate her pre-made fruit salad from the local supermarket and Reborn sipped on a cup of espresso. Harry sat quietly in a corner, fiddling with a piece of toast before choking it down and standing up.

"I'm going out," he announced. Dudley and Vernon ignored him, but as he reached the door, Petunia called out to him.

"Be back by noon, boy. I won't have your freakish friends complaining we haven't been feeding you. And the garden needs weeding."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

The park was mostly empty. The public school had not yet let out for summer so Harry had plenty of peace and quiet as he sat on the broken swings. Harry did not want peace and quiet since peace and quiet led to thinking, so Harry drowned his thoughts with pleas for distraction, eyes wandering around to see if he could spot his guards.

An hour later, noise could be heard approaching. It was Dudley and his gang of boys playing hooky. Harry groaned internally but stayed put. There was no point trying to escape now as running away from the get-go only encouraged them to chase without thinking.

"Hey, Big D," Piers sneered, "looks like your cousin still don't know to stay off our turf."

Dudley chuckled nervously. "He's just an insane criminal. Come on guys, let's find someone to beat up."

"No way," Piers protested, flexing his fingers. "We can just beat up the runt like we used to. Don't tell me that private school's made you soft, Big D? We didn't touch him at all these past few summers and I think it's getting to the kid's head. Let's mess him up."

Harry glared at Dudley for a moment before wiping his face blank and looking out at the gang with a vapid smile. "My my, fancy seeing the old team again. Skipping classes? Naughty, naughty," he teased. "In my school, truants are punished with something wooden, long, and thin. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about, don't you? Think I should try it on you to see if you smarten up a bit?"

The reactions varied. Dudley paled dramatically as his mind sunk immediately to the magic wand Harry was carrying in his back pocket. Most boys assumed Harry was talking about the cane while a few others looked sick, their thoughts no doubt draining down the gutters to Harry's disgust.

"Until next time," Harry parted, walking off while concentrating sharply to try and hear if he should start running.

"Seriously Big D –

"What' wrong with you –

"Ciao –

A gunshot.

Harry froze. Surely not? He turned around. Dudley's body fell to the floor and his gang stood in a circle around him, gaping in shock. Not three feet away was Reborn, the baby home tutor, whose smoking gun slithered into the form of a chameleon.

Tick. Tick. Tick. The seconds dragged. Dudley was dead. He was killed by a hitman in the body of a toddler. A part of him was freaking out that his guards hadn't even noticed. Just what kind of pitiful job at protecting the neighborhood were they doing? Another part of him was already superimposing Dudley's falling body with his godfather's. Guess what kind of sick dreams Harry was going to have tonight?

"REBORN!" Dudley's obese body tore itself upwards from where he fell, ripping through his clothes so that he was dressed in his boxers. It would have been an extremely disgusting sight were it not for the flames burning on his forehead that drew all eyes upwards. "I'm going to break that freak's stick with my dying will!"

Harry was starting to get a little sick and tired of constantly being confused. It had only been a single day since coming back from Hogwarts and he felt like he had already filled his strangeness quota for the entire coming school year. Nevertheless, it was no mystery what Harry had to do now. As his cousin lunged his way, half-naked and forehead burning, Harry ran.

Down Privet Drive, faster and faster, running full-tilt as the gate of the local primary school loomed in the distance. Harry prepared himself for a sharp turn, body angling and feet shoving against the ground in a sideways, sliding manner as he propelled himself to the left into the alleyway between the school wall and the edge of the residential area. This was a trick Harry used often when he was younger. As a smaller and lighter child, Harry was naturally more agile. Dudley would be forced to slow down at this obstacle, and as soon as he lost the speed from his momentum, the lazy boy would feel the fatigue from running pulling him back from continuing the chase. Sometimes his gang would act smart and block off the alleyway, but that wasn't a problem today.

No, today the problem was that Dudley didn't slow down. He tore down the street after Harry, practically crashing into the wall and raising a cloud of dust from the impact before letting out a large roar as he turned the corner and threw himself into running again.

Harry cursed and scanned the walls. He couldn't scale the school wall or the buildings on the other side in the short time he'd have before Dudley caught up. Desperately he tried to remember the landscape on the other end of the alleyway. Surely there were some tall trees?

Harry praised Merlin as a large oak tree was revealed around the corner and he quickly leaped up the branches. Whatever crazy magic that baby performed on Dudley made his cousin much more resilient, but the wizard highly doubted it made Dudley any lighter or else the impact with the stone wall earlier would not have made such a loud noise. If Dudley still weighed more than 15 stone, the branches wouldn't support him, even if he managed to jump onto the first limb six feet above ground.

Dudley came just seconds later after Harry swung up into the tree. His head whipped back and forth as he tried to locate Harry, eventually looking up to see the wizard hiding in a tree. After a few unsuccessful tries at reaching the first branch, Dudley finally settled for roaring in fury, occasionally screaming "Dying Will!" as he punched the solid oak tree. Vibrations made Harry's body tremble as he hoped the trunk would be able to ride out the flaming boy's temper.

A single tense minute later, the flame on Dudley's forehead fizzled. The punching stopped and Dudley looked down at his fists with a stupid expression before looking down farther and squealing when he realized he was half naked.

"What, what just happened?" he asked aloud. "Oi, freak, did you do something?" Dudley yelled. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Wow, Dudleykins," he drawled, "you don't remember the gun shooting you dead? That's not something I'd forget."

"The Dying Will bullet," Reborn identified. Harry jumped as the baby's voice came from the branch next to him, swearing bloody hells as he lost balance and nearly fell. "A person shot with the Dying Will bullet will be revived with a Dying Will to pursue their last regret for five minutes. During those five minutes, your body's limits are released and you can ignore all pain."

"It apparently doesn't make you any smarter though," Harry commented, finally swinging out of the tree as he noticed Dudley fall on his bottom from delayed exhaustion and pain. "Guess that means you were born stupid, Duds. Will you be killing my cousin anymore today, Reborn?"

"No," Reborn replied. "The Dying Will bullets have limitations, and there are no proper doctors in the area."

"Wonderful," Harry sighed. "I'm going back now. Lunch will be ready in an hour and a half, you two. Enjoy yourselves," he parted sarcastically, trudging back to number four. Harry was ready to go back to normality for awhile, even if that meant weeding the garden and cooking the Dursleys lunch. Later, he'd try and solve the mystery that was Dudley's home tutor. Some extendable ears in Dudley's bedroom and a few letters to Hermione should go a long way in clarifying a few matters.

A/N: It's been fun while the inspiration lasted, I guess. It's funny - originally, I was going to have this whole two part epic, where in this story Harry was going to meet Reborn and possibly just have a research adventure figuring out Reborn's secrets while trying to keep his own mixed with the crazy 'slice of life with a baby hitman' adventure, and the second part being Harry joining Tsuna. But, well, I stopped reading Reborn halfway through the Future Arc and have only seen its fanon since. The necessary research to continue this story properly puts a damper on my enthusiasm, really. Meh.

Thanks for reading!