How it Happens

Chapter Six

This chapter isn't edited in any way, shape, or form. If you see a mistake (trust me, they're there), please tell me!

Warnings: A bit of blood mention. Rushed (and I mean rushed) and messy writing.

A/N: Yo, long time, no see! This chapter was written in messy bits and pieces over the span of two years, in various documents. I have did my best to string them together the best I could, though I warn you: I forgot how to write. :'D

I'm eager to try again, though!

I mostly wanted to wrap up Harry's current adventure in Wizarding World for now. I'm more excited for writing the Varia Arc, and to get there—well, I needed Harry to head back sooner or later, lmao.

Despite my and this chapter's misgivings, I hope you—

Enjoy!

(Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I know I didn't reply to most of them, but they helped spur me on to write just a lil' bit each time I received one, haha! So gracias!)

A pet.

Harry never really had one before, considering the fact that he took care of Lambo and didn't really need to care for anything else. Didn't want to care for anything else, considering that Lambo was a handful enough as it is. That, and the fact that Harry didn't really think he could connect to an animal on a deeper, more subconscious, level than any other humans. Point is: it never crossed his mind to own a pet.

Marvolo seemed determined to get him an owl, though.

"What if I'm a cat person?" Harry asked, dryly, eying the various owls in various cages warily. These birds seemed too intelligent, it left Harry feeling vaguely paranoid. "A cat doesn't seem that high maintenance."

"Owls are one of the easiest and logical ways of sending post," Marvolo seemed faintly offended at Harry's suggestion. Harry cast him an absent glance, seeing Marvolo standing a bit away from him, and a lot away from the animals. It seemed like any animal he neared disliked him, and it was very obvious that he didn't like them back, with how he blankly stared at them with disinterest.

"Do you have one?" Harry turned his attention back to listlessly staring at the owls. A few of them chittered, and hooted at them, while others ignored him pointedly. And he didn't know about owl carriers being the most logical ways of sending post.

"I don't need one," Marvolo drawled, arms folded primly.

"And I do?" Harry made a face.

"Of course," how Marvolo made it sound like it was the most wonderful idea was a mystery to Harry. It was probably his inner Sky charisma kicking in, and Harry stubbornly ignored the harsh curl of Lightning flames underneath his skin, restless. "How else are we supposed to stay in touch?"

"Don't you have a phone?" Harry was fighting a losing battle, but damn it all if he wasn't going down without a fight.

"Magic and muggle things don't mesh well together," Marvolo said, tightly. The emphasis on the word muggle was a bit more bitter, and Harry felt himself frown. "Just choose a bloody owl, Harry," Marvolo ordered, and Harry wanted to roll his eyes.

"Fine, fine," Harry muttered, sour. One of the store's attendants was apparently waiting for this moment, and stepped forward, wide smile on their face. "Oh, hi."

"Do you need help, sir?" The store attendant asked, brightly. "Are you looking for a pet owl?"

"Er, yes," Harry blinked, and the attendant nodded, giving him a sharp once-over. "Do you—have any suggestions? I want a pet that doesn't really need too much attention or care," he internally winced at how callous he sounded. He wasn't an animal hater, really, but—he didn't really want a pet in the first place.

"I have a few owls that may suit your needs," the attendant mused, thoughtful. "Let's introduce you a few of them, shall we?"

After an owl or two, Harry felt a sliver of doubt.

After a few more, it only grew.

After almost a dozen of meeting and greeting owls did Harry conclude that owls didn't like him. Or rather, they weren't interested in him at all. Maybe it was a mutual thing, Harry internally debated with himself, turning to give Marvolo an exasperated look. Marvolo's patience was wearing thin, and his eyes glinted rather dangerously at him, his lips twitching up in a polite, almost effortless smile, and Harry averted his attention back onto the increasingly flustered attendant.

"Do you have anymore?" Harry prodded.

"We have a couple in the back, but they're troublesome," the store attendant waved him off, shaking their head. "If these owls don't ring with you, I doubt the others will," they explained, and Harry shrugged.

"Never know until we try," Harry said, if only to just exhaust this option and turn towards Riddle to say, see? I told you so. No owls. The attendant pursed their lips, before sighing and muttering about coming back with an owl or two that Harry could possibly meet without getting maimed.

The words left Harry twitching.

Knowing his luck, a violent minded owl would be attracted to him. Just—knowing his luck. Harry shuffled his feet nervously in place, mind flashing towards Hibari Kyoya. The violent skylark was enough for him, he didn't need an actual animal mauling him every chance it got too. Crossing his fingers, Harry waited for the attendant to return, wheeling a few cages in with them.

"Here we go," the attendant declared. "These are the least troublesome of the bunch we have back there."

There were only two cages, but the one that caught his eye the most was a disgruntled snowy white owl. It was probably the color that caught his attention, but Harry managed to capture it's stare and froze slightly. It only lasted for a brief moment, and Harry blinked, before shuffling closer and peering more intently at the owl. "I want this one," he declared after a few more moments, pointing at the snowy owl.

The snowy owl attempted to nip his fingers, and Harry huffed, quickly dropping his hand.

"Are you sure?" The attendant seemed mildly surprised, more so at the owl than Harry's choice. "She's quite temperamental—"

"I'm sure," Harry waved him off, sending him an awkward smile. "She seems perfect," he added, eying the owl once more. The owl seemingly understood him and sent him a haughty look. The attendant hummed and told him that he'll be back with everything he needs, and the price, which was when Marvolo stepped forward.

At last, when all was said and done, Harry was holding a cage next to him as they bustled down the empty street. "Do you have a name for her?" Marvolo asked, more out of necessity than out of any real curiosity.

"I don't know," Harry replied, grimacing. He never dealt with pets before, nor was he that good at naming stuff. "Er," Harry racked his brain, ignoring Marvolo's bland glance. "How about Hedgwig?" The name Hedwig—he read that last night, didn't he? In one of those magical history textbooks. Marvolo smiled.

"That's a nice name," Marvolo said, vaguely. "Are you ready to buy a wand?"

"Not really, but I have a feeling that I don't have much of a choice," Harry sighed. Just buy a wand, and get out of England. Or rather, get back to Dorea's house and try to send an update to Reborn, maybe call Tsuna and the rest. He'll have to calculate the time zone difference, though.

Marvolo tsked but didn't say anything.

Ollivanders loomed above them, Marvolo getting a glint in his eyes as he observed the wand shop. Harry was tempted to ask if he had to get a wand, per say, considering it seemed too cartoonish and unpractical. He decided against it, though, resulting to restlessly shuffling in place, glancing between Marvolo and the shop, in the slightly awkward silent moment. At last, Marvolo turned and gave him a simple smile.

"Why don't you go in? I'll wait out here with your pet," Marvolo offered, expression shifting only momentarily. It settled soon, and Harry wondered if he should be concerned for his new pet or not. "I don't think pets are allowed," Marvolo continued, with a 'what can you do?' shrug.

Harry licked his lips, unsure. "Sure," he agreed anyways, glancing at Hedwig. "I'll see you in a bit, then," Harry took a deep breath, before pushing inside the wand shop. It was oddly crowded, not with people but with stacks of drawers and boxes, looming above him and leaving him with a restless cramped feeling.

A nervous excitement stirred within Harry, making him want to rock back and forth on his feet. Stepping up to the counter, he peered around for the shop owner, or someone. That someone was an older man, with pale silvery eyes and white hair, popping out of the back of the shop. The older man blinked at him, something curious flickering through his eyes.

"Hello?" Harry offered, smiling awkwardly. "Can I buy a wand?"

The man observed him, the slightest narrowing of his eyes. "Of course, of course," he finally said. "But I have to ask: are you a student?" Harry stiffened, before shrugging, averting his eyes and wracking his brain. "Very odd for a student to be here in the middle of a school year."

"Homeschooled?" Harry replied, uneasily. It was very obvious the man didn't believe him. "But it is only recently that I found out about this—this world," he gestured vaguely around him. He did read about the 3 major European magical schools. No doubt, if he happened to still live in England, he would have probably gotten a Hogwarts letter.

Probably.

But if Harry Potter—Harry Potter was him, right? Harry felt the creeping anxiousness and dread pool in his stomach, shuddering its way up his spine, and he pressed his eyes closed against it. He was sure his name was Harry Potter, especially when he was younger and before he was picked up as a Bovino stray. It couldn't be a coincidence. It shouldn't be a coincidence.

Then why? How? Why?

"Curious," the man mused. "Then I take it you are not from around here, are you?" Harry shook his head, even as the man stepped out from behind the counter and measured his dominant arm with magical tape, and him writing down his measurements. He trudged back into the shop and came forward with a few wands, handing the first one tentatively towards him.

"I currently live in Japan," Harry replied. "Before that, I lived in Italy."

The first wand felt a bit heavy in his hand, and Harry frowned, raising his eyes questioningly at the man. "Go on, wave it," he ordered, making Harry raise an eyebrow but did as told. Dangerous sparks sputtered forward, a horrible numb feeling tingling along under his skin. "Not the one," the man murmured, taking the wand from him. "Japan, huh? I heard that Mahoutokoro is a nice school," he said as he handed yet another wand to Harry.

"Is that another magical school?" Harry asked, curious. He wondered if he could attend, before dismissing that idea. He was still learning how to read and use the three alphabets of Japan, along with trying to keep up with the schoolwork in Namimori. Not to mention that he was still looking after Lambo and hanging out with Tsuna and the rest.

The next wand was limp in his hand, and Harry felt a sigh of exasperation build up in him, as he handed the wand back to the increasingly curious man. Ollivander, Harry managed to read his nametag and felt a bit dumb for not realizing it sooner, was pushing and pulling wands towards Harry, eyes alight with a growing fascination.

"Curious, and curious," Ollivander smiled, a bit blissed out. "I always love a difficult customer."

"Thanks?" Harry felt a bit ashamed at the growing boxes of rejected and discarded wands. First the owls, now the wands? At last, after a seriously long time, Ollivander gifted him with a wand with eager hands, and Harry felt something click, his eyes drawn to wand curiously.

It felt like a good weight, and when he waved it, a few friendly sparks let loose, tingling pleasantly under Harry's skin. "Interesting," Ollivander mused, a perplexed expression eying the wand and then Harry. "Young man, what's your name?"

"Harry," Harry replied, slowly. "Just Harry."

"Well, just Harry," Ollivander leaned closer, as if sharing a secret between the two of them. Harry leaned forward as well, curious. "Your wand is made out of holly with a phoenix feather core," he admitted, and Harry blinked. Oh, right—wait, phoenix feather? Those are real? "Your wand is a brother wand to another wand I have made, with the same core but different wood."

"…And?" Harry glanced at his wand, palming it nervously. "Does—does it mean anything?"

"Every wand has meaning, just like how every wand chooses an owner," Ollivander mused, pulling back and staring at him, a perplexed expression still in place. His eyes lingered on Harry's messy fringe for a brief moment. "I remember every wand I have made, and sold, and I remember everyone who walks away with one of my wands. I must say that we may just have to expect great things from you, young Harry; after all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things too—terrible, but great."

A sinking feeling settled in Harry's stomach.

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

The very same Dark Lord who tried to kill Harry Potter when he—they were a baby. Harry glanced away from Ollivander's curious gaze, the turbulent and distraught emotions swirling inside him, threatening to overwhelm him if he let them. There was still a lot of questions surrounding Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived. Harry was so damn sure he was Harry Potter, but apparently, he wasn't because the other Harry was alive and well in Hogwarts—

Was there two of them? Was it a coincidence?

One hell of a coincidence, if so. Harry knew his luck was iffy a lot of the times, but the chances of having the same name as Harry Potter was slim. But—if it really was his name, then an owl or something would have made its way towards him, right? Then again, he was in Italy when he was 11, and he hasn't gone by the name of Potter in a long while, ever since joining the Bovino family.

A headache was building behind his eyes, hot and stabbing; Harry tried to ignore it as he thought of how to proceed. Gringotts was an obvious choice with their inheritance testing, and bloodline tracing—another choice was actually going to the public record office at the Ministry and actively going through all that, but that option was just plain unappealing.

Once again, Harry was stuck with an overwhelming urge:

He wanted to get out of England.

But—Harry watched sullenly as Ollivander shuffled about the shop, putting up the various boxes of rejected wands. He palmed his wand anxiously, feeling up the wood as thoughts raced through his mind. He chose to come here for answers, and leaving before getting them was just plain shameful. He at least needed to get more answers about this world, about who he was, before he left.

This was basically a mission he chose for himself, he couldn't just not complete because he couldn't be bothered with it due to his feelings. Plus, Reborn allowed him to go this mission, and the thought of disappointing the Arcobaleno also made something burn in Harry's gut, because one does not simply disappoint an Arcobaleno—especially if the Arcobaleno was Reborn.

Harry was also sure that the only reason he was so finnicky about this, other than meeting an inactive Sky which was messing up his emotions big time, was probably because this mission was about him. And Harry himself was always the least of his concerns.

Harry paid for the wand and shuffled back outside, hand gripping his wand tightly. Marvolo seemed a bit impatient, as he stood up from where he was leaning against a wall, staring out at the empty alley with a blank expression.

"How did it go?" Marvolo drawled, eyes drawn to Harry's wand and eying it curiously.

"Good," Harry said, at length. "Made out of holly and phoenix feather. You didn't tell me phoenixes existed," he accused, slightly, just to get the attention off of his wand. Marvolo blinked, before narrowing his eyes slightly and shrugging, somehow making the lax movement graceful.

"You never asked," was all he said. "Let's go get you a wand holster, then we can continue to explore. Though, this place is quite troublesome after dark," Marvolo offered, and Harry nodded, picking up a chirping Hedwig, making sure she didn't appear ruffled or anything. "May I see your wand for a bit?"

"Why?" Harry asked, suddenly apprehensive.

"Just give it to me," Marvolo looked tempted to roll his eyes. Harry huffed before giving him the wand cautiously, watching as Marvolo examined it, twirling it in his fingers in such a graceful movement that made Harry slightly envious. At last, he muttered something, and gave it another wave, a white light seemingly enveloping his wand and breaking, making Harry blink.

"What did you do?" Harry asked, eager, as Marvolo gave him back the wand, hardly a hair out of place. "That was pretty cool!" Spells, he could do them too, right? It might be a bit difficult to learn, considering the fact that Harry didn't go to any magical schools, but he had books, and theory.

That was more than enough for Harry to try and figure it out, at least enough to make it useful to him.

"Nothing," Marvolo replied, curt. He sent an absent glance behind them, before glancing back at Harry. "Just made it more accessible to you. A small tracker spell is put on all wands, especially if you're underage; I simply disabled it, so no one can track your location."

Harry mulled over this information, suddenly suspicious and grateful. People could track him through this? The thought was sobering, and Harry wondered who would do that. The Ministry of Magic, perhaps, or any other magical governments, perhaps? There was a law concerning underage wizards and witches about using magic outside of school, and Harry winced, suddenly very aware that he could be considered underage—was underage, actually, in the wizarding world.

"Thank you," Harry replied, sincerely. The last thing he needed was someone else getting an upper hand on him rather than the other way around, especially the magical world.

"You're welcome," Marvolo smiled at him, a simple quirk to his lips. "I'm always happy to help."

-0-0-0-

Ollivander was quiet, staring at the front entrance of shop curiously.

Just 'Harry', hm?

Curious, and curious. Holly wood with a phoenix feather core, the brother wand to yet another wand, another wand with a powerful owner. In fact, it seemed a bit more fitting than a particular laurel wood with a unicorn tail hair core wand. Perplexed wonder washed over him, as he started to straighten up his shop, still a bit satisfied with dealing with a difficult customer.

With recent events, maybe it was fate that brought young Harry to his shop. Maybe it was coincidence. Whatever it was, it was surely curious, and no doubt—

No doubt Dumbledore would like to hear about this.

-0-0-0-

"Gringotts?" Marvolo raised his eyebrows, stirring his tea with a wooden stirrer. Both of them had grabbed a quick drink to consume while they explored the Wizarding world alleys, most of the time Harry been purchasing books and thinking of a way to answer his questions. They also had stopped by the Leaky Cauldron so Harry could drop off Hedwig, and her cage; she seemed content enough after Harry fed her some of the food the store provided, though Harry couldn't help but worry just slightly.

Harry assured himself that he practically raised Lambo, a pet couldn't be any more difficult than that.

"Gringotts does inheritance tests, yeah?" Harry sipped his own drink, tea with a spice of cinnamon and chocolate. He was also palming a chocolate frog, having not being able to eat it when it jumped away from him when he first opened the package. It was now squirming in his palm, and Harry just couldn't—

He just couldn't bring himself to bite into it, not when it moved.

Even Marvolo's judging stare didn't deter him.

Marvolo hummed. "I suppose there is no harm in checking. You will need to make an account with them anyways, if you ever want a steady connection to the magical world." His dark brown eyes were narrowed in contemplation, and he tilted in his head slightly, staring Harry down. Harry paused in sipping his drink, blinking slow at the other teenager. "You haven't told me much about you, now that I think about it."

"Not much to tell, haha," Harry admitted, sheepishly glancing away. Not much he was allowed to tell, he means. "Uh, my zodiac sign is a Leo, I grew up an orphan, and I, uh, like long walks on the beach?" Harry huffed in amusement, smile growing at Marvolo's expression. "I hate sand, however—it gets everywhere, and it's always a bloody pain to clean up."

"Surely, you have more substance than that," Marvolo mused, sipping his tea. He seemed to consider something for a moment, before he gave Harry a slight smile. "An orphan, hm? I see we have that in common," he admitted, and Harry felt a bit awkward at that admission, but also—empathy?

It was an oddly warm and tugging emotion in his chest.

Harry ignored it.

"What a great icebreaker," which is to say, not a good one at all. Admitting he was an orphan to a an almost complete stranger made Harry wince internally, but it—it was a part of who he was, and Harry was only ashamed because it wasn't proper social etiquette (especially to a Sky), not because he was an orphan.

Was he an orphan?

Then again, considering his childhood and how he was now a part of the underworld—maybe it was better if he was an orphan. Harry was used to shitty family, but the thought of an even worse family that dumped him onto the Dursleys of all people—it kind of pissed him off.

"It only raises the question of going to Gringotts for an inheritance test," Marvolo prodded, smiling bemusedly at him. "Do you have hopes of finding a long lost family? I understand, I was a bit like you when I was younger." That statement made it sound like Marvolo was a lot older than him, which—well, he wasn't; at most, only a couple of years.

Harry shrugged, not meeting Marvolo's eyes. "Like you said earlier, it won't hurt to at least check. If there's nothing, then there's nothing." Finishing the last of his drink with a harsh swallow, he turned towards the nearby trash bin and tossed it, glancing at Marvolo's expression with a crooked grin. "I'm not losing much by not finding some long lost relatives, or finding that I really am just some nobody in this world."

It was partially true, at least—he'd lose his main lead on finding out answers to who he was, but it would answer the fact that he wasn't blood-related to any of the major families located in the magical world. Then he'd could pack up the fact that he was, indeed, a nobody and go back to Namimori with the gratifying 'I tried!' feeling to settle his lingering and tumbling feelings about this whole matter.

One way or another, it will help solve his identity-crisis.

Or open up a whole new can of worms if he really was Harry Potter—it was going to be a headache and half if that was true, but Harry couldn't afford to stay and tinker it out. He needed to head back to Namimori soon, so if that was true, he'd have to find a way to figure it out from Japan.

The thought of Namimori, with Lambo and Tsuna there—the comfortable yet chaotic lifestyle flashed through his mind, and Harry yearned. Maybe it'd do him good to step back after this; gather as much information as he can, step back and analyze it, then decide on what to do.

If he wanted to do anything at all.

Marvolo appraised him as he finished his own drink. "Hm," he finally hummed. It was such a lackluster response, it had Harry bristling slightly. "Well, let's head on over there, shall we? It is getting quite late," he smiled, and Harry nodded mutely, nerves appearing once again as they started their way towards the bank.

Harry tried to distract himself on the way there by observing every shop they passed, some of them closed—there were hardly any people about, still. It gave the ally an eerie vibe as both Marvolo and Harry walked, leaving them mostly alone; the ones they did see didn't make eye contact, ducking past them hurriedly. Marvolo didn't seem too concerned, barely sparing them a glance.

It didn't take long, arriving at the bank with little fanfare.

Gringotts was taller than any of the other nearby shops, and stood out due to its brilliant white hue. It seemed like the type of place Harry would avoid at all costs, because it seemed brimming with authority, which didn't bode well for Harry and his almost casual disregard for rules when it came down to it.

Once again, Marvolo made no move to come inside with him.

"I have something I need to do real quick," Marvolo explained, as Harry shuffled his feet nervously and staring at him. It was awfully convenient that he suddenly remembered that he needed to do something right as they got there, Harry thought balefully. "It's quite simple to set up an account, and to ask for an inheritance test, though both will cost money. I'll pay for both, and then the money you have on you will be put into your account. Makes things simple, right?"

Harry shut his mouth, wrinkling his nose in distaste. He had been surviving off small exchanges with Tom, who also used muggle money, up until now—the Gringotts bank was new territory for him, so Marvolo's factual way of speaking was somewhat comforting.

Harry hated feeling like a burden, though.

"Sure," he muttered, turning to stare at the entrance to the bank. Marvolo had given him some type of charmed coin bag, as he turned away. "I'll see you in a bit, then."

Marvolo gave him a simple smile. "See you soon," he waved him off, before heading down the street, veering towards the shops on the right. Harry stared after him before shaking himself off, and bracing himself.

It was busy.

That was Harry's first impression of it. Various lines that went up to multiple tellers, people bustling here and there. Harry felt like it could swallow him hole, and he shuddered, choosing a random line and getting into it. He stubbornly ignored the people in front of him, feeling mild dread at coming in here.

Despite it being later in the day, it was still busy. Harry briefly wondered if they were 24/7.

Sooner than he expected, Harry gradually moved up the line. He had chose one of the shorter ones, luckily, and he couldn't help but smile a bit at that. He'll get out of here sooner rather than later, which he was all for.

Not to mention, he'll get the answers he need.

"Next!"

Harry stepped up to the irritable goblin at the tell, who didn't look up from his furious scribbling. Oddly enough, when he stepped through, the noise around the bank became muted. A noise cancelling charm?

"Well, are you going to just stand there and waste my time, or speak?" The goblin snapped after a moment, making Harry wince. The goblin's nameplate was Stirk.

"Oh, yeah. I'm here to set up an account, and to do an Inheritance test." Harry explained, playing with the strings of the coin bag Marvolo gave him. Stirk hummed, filing the papers he was working on and giving him a stern eye.

"Do you have the money for it?"

Harry responded by tossing the coin bag onto the desk, because money conversion was never his strong point. The goblin gave an irritated huff as he picked it up, pulling it apart and pulling out a few coins and knuts. He was seemingly satisfied with it as he pulled out the correct amount and tossed the bag back at him.

"Let me go get some things. Stay here."

Harry awkwardly sat down in the little chair in front of his desk, glancing around idly. He settled on staring down at his shoes, wondering what Lambo and them were doing now. It wasn't long before Stirk returned with an armful of stuff, setting it down at his desk with a huff.

Harry eyed the knife, which Stirk tossed at him. Harry caught it with slight ease, examining it; it seemed almost ceremonial. Of course, an Inheritance test needed blood. Harry wasn't afraid of giving it.

"You need just a bit. A little prick on your finger—" Stirk cut himself off, as Harry shot him a worried look. He had grabbed the knife and sliced his palm open, blood already pooling hotly in his hand.

"Oops?" Harry offered sheepishly, as Stirk shook his head.

"Just put it over the bowl. It'll heal after the ritual." Harry nodded, dripping his blood into the stone bowl. His Lightning flames kept the wound from stinging, but it was a bit disconcerting to watch blood coming from an injury on his person.

Stirk waved him off, and Harry immediately elevated his hand upwards, in hopes to stop the bleeding and any swelling that might occur due to his risky move. Stirk paid him no mind as he played with his blood, pinching some powders into it and pouring another vial of liquid into it as well.

With that, he plucked up a piece of parchment and shoved it into the bowl, before covering it up with a lid. Harry was slightly disappointed, because while interesting—

He was hoping his first ritual had a bit more pizah to it.

True to Stirk's word, after a few awkward moments, Harry felt his palm tingle. He brought it down to see a healed palm, bloody as it might be. There was only a faint line from where he had cut himself, and Harry flexed his fingers, amazed.

"This will tell me if I have any inheritance?" Harry asked after a few more moments. He was currently scrubbing the blood off onto his handkerchief, which he was forced to keep on him due to Lambo. Stirk made a noncommittal noise.

"If you have any wizarding family you hail from, then sure," Stirk grunted. It went static again, and Harry couldn't help but feel a bit dismissed. He sighed and continued to flake the blood off his hand, leaving it pink.

It was the best he could do, at the moment.

At long last, the results were in.

Stirk had sighed and unlidded the bowl. His mixture of blood and other things was gone, leaving only a parchment; Harry felt horribly intrigued. Stirk gathered up the paper and adjusted his little round reading glasses, raising both of his finely arched brows in surprise.

He then began to laugh hysterically.

Harry sat up straight in alarm, watching as the goblin lost himself to his amusement. After a few moments, it went on for too long, and Harry was getting annoyed. And concerned, but mostly annoyed. "Well? What does it say?" He asked, as the goblin settled with a stare his way.

The goblin looked grim, and horribly amused. "You're Harry Potter, apparently the real Harry Potter. Your twin, the no one knew you had, is Charlie Potter." The goblin let out a little hoarse chuckle, glancing down from Harry's pale face back to the family line.

Harry felt the need to throw up.

"The wizarding world is going to have a fit if they find out."

-0-0-0-

They weren't going to find out.

Harry was adamant about that, which Stirk only shrugged. It made no difference to them, it seemed. The rest of the visit was spent setting up Harry's own personal account, under the name of Harry Rossi (Marisa's maiden name). He was given a pamphlet of information, along with a packet of terms and agreements he had agreed to, and was sent on his way.

Marvolo raised an eyebrow when Harry came out, stiff and clutching the papers to his chest. "Did it go well?"

Harry blinked, before swallowing. He felt cold and shaky, but other than that—"Yeah, it went well," he muttered, taking the time to shove his stuff into his bag. "I'm ready to leave." Marvolo frowned but escorted him back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Will you be keeping in touch?" Marvolo inquired, before he let Harry back into the place. Harry nodded jerkily, a bit uncaring. Marvolo narrowed his eyes slightly before letting out a sigh. His smile was soft. "I'm sorry if today didn't turn out as expected. I didn't want your last day here to be all that bad, but it seems like that was a failed effort, hm?"

"No," Harry said quickly, shaking his head. "It isn't—it isn't your fault. It's a 'me' thing; I'm really grateful you took the time to show me around, and everything," he assured, despite the flicker of annoyance at himself. At his stupid Flames, because despite rejecting Marvolo's inactive Sky's, they were still ingrained instinct lingering there.

Marvolo looked relieved. "So, you will be keeping in touch?"

"Of course." After all, they got Hedwig specifically for that purpose, didn't they? Harry gave Marvolo one of his careless grins, making the older teen smile back. "I'll send a note when I get back home, I promise."

As he stepped through the entrance, he heard Marvolo's murmur, "I'll hold you to that, then." What an ominous guy, Harry couldn't help but think. He bid a shaky hello to Tom before he headed up to his room.

"Hello, Hedwig," Harry greeted his new pet, Hedwig chirping at him. She ruffled her feathers and sent a pointed glance towards the window. Raising his eyebrows, Harry asked, "Do you wanna head out for a bit?"

Hedwig gave him a bland stare, which Harry snorted at.

"I'll trust you to it, then," Harry opened his window before opening up her cage. She nipped at his fingers as she went past, circling the room a bit before with one last hoot, exited. Harry watched as she flew off, before leaving the window cracked just a bit.

How odd, that he suddenly had an animal companion. Harry briefly thought of Leon, and perked up slightly at the thought. Maybe Hedwig could be to him like what Leon is to Reborn. Though, he highly doubted she could shapeshift like the chameleon.

All too soon, Harry was left with his thoughts. With the elephant in the room. Harry sat heavily at the small desk in the room, setting his bag onto the desk. He stared at it, feeling a turmoil in his stomach, threateningly nauseous. With a shaky inhale, Harry dug out the family line he was given by Gringotts, staring at the information again.

Maybe it changed—no. It didn't change. His name was still emboldened there, right next to 'Charles Morgan Potter' and 'Iris Lily Potter'. The other two children of James and Lily Potter. Harry frowned at it, the proof that he was related to them—in fact, was the Harry Potter. The wizarding world's young hero.

Harry briefly remembered the tension in the wizarding community, the headlines warning of dark magic and concerns. A wicked amusement laced through him; maybe he wasn't doing such a good job at being their hero, was he?

Harry felt resentment roil inside him, as he stared at the parchment. He idly stroked it with his thumb, eyes flickering back and forth between the two names—his, and his… brother's. A switcharoo, it seemed.

Why? To keep him safe?

Maybe they cared…

Harry crumpled up all the excess evidence of his search, the newspapers and magazines and countless books written about the Potter Family and their little hero. He piled it all together and put it in the bin, using his Flames to light it up and watch it burn. Luckily, there was no fire alarm in the hotel room (unpractical, but he supposed magic made one more careless), and stared dully into the flames.

His eyes caught the smiling faces of his so-called family, his twin brother's wide grin boarding on mocking. His supposed little sister looked gleeful, and his parents didn't look a hair out of place. Didn't look like they had another son who they discarded to the Dursleys, the less-than-willing people who, in turn, discarded him in a whole other country.

Maybe they cared, but not a whole lot; not enough.

In that case, Harry thought as the last of his flames flickered out, leaving nothing but ash. He smiled humorlessly as he remembered the Dursley's, the countless times he was forbidden to eat or when he was locked out in the backyard. Been told countless times that he was worthless, a freak.

In that case, then maybe it would be doing them a favor if he didn't care for them much in return.

-0-0-0-

Harry remembered living with the Dursleys.

He remembered the cupboard, the garden, the kitchen—all of it was gone, all of them were gone, and Harry was just staring at a burnt-out shell of a house that no one seemed concerned with. He stared solemnly out the window of Dorea's house, tapping his fingers against the windowsill, and wondered if it was because of him that it was burned down. Or if it would have burned down regardless of him, and he could have died in the confines of a house he hated, died with a family that hated him.

"I'm not paying you to take a break, errand boy," Dorea commented blandly from behind him. Harry twitched and turned, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm getting paid?" Harry replied, going back on task. The house was barer, with various things being boxed up and pushed to the side. He sat back down on the floor, shoving picture frames and miscellaneous items into a box carefully. He felt a bit anxious about today, had been since he had woken up. It probably had to due to the lingering weight of being in England for so long, with the fact that seemingly everyone back in Japan had stopped answering him. It was slightly suspicious.

And that—that wasn't good.

"I'm paying you with experience," Dorea answered casually. Her eyes seemed positively amused, and Harry rolled his own in response, and swiftly maneuvered his head to the side, narrowly missing the thrown porcelain cup at him. It clattered to the floor, thankfully empty and unharmed, and Harry gave her an exasperated look as he returned it to her.

Man, the Hibari family was weird.

"Why did you just suddenly decide to move to Namimori?" Harry asked, carefully taping the edge of a cardboard box. He kept his phone on vibrate, just in case. "I have a feeling that you weren't planning this in the long run."

Dorea gave him a bland look. "I wasn't," she admitted. "But you made me remember that I have family there." Harry bit back a reply, consoling himself with the fact that—maybe the Hibari family was more instinctually inclined than most. Not that there wasn't some form of logic there, but that logic probably didn't make sense to any others, much less Harry himself.

"Do they know you're coming?" Harry didn't want to invoke the wrath of Hibari Kyoya if it just so happened that Dorea was the black sheep of the family.

"Of course," the older lady waved him off, with a heavy roll of her eyes. She seemed to be taking a break from packing, which was weird considering the fact that she just sat there, drinking her tea and directing him on what to do. Harry glanced at his phone absently. "Hibiki-kun is my sister's son, so he should be fine with me moving in with them for a while."

"Ah," Harry scratched his cheek, after hefting up a few of the moving boxes and stacking them in the hallway. They hired a delivery service, which would send them overseas, while Harry and Dorea managed to book a flight back to Japan. "What is your family like? I mean, Hibari Hibiki is the chief of police at Namimori PD. How are some of you guys affiliated with the mafia?"

"We're not always mafia related," Dorea explained. "Most of us tend to keep a low profile, such as my sister, and her son." A pause, and she seemed to find something incredibly amusing, with how her lips tipped slightly up into a dry smile. "Her son married a wonderful woman, too bad she passed," Dorea murmured, smile fading slightly.

"Oh," Harry internally blanched, jeez, awkward. "Well, I'm done packing up most of your stuff. I think we'll be good to go tomorrow," he quickly changed the subject, unwilling to jump into Hibari family drama. Not his circus, not his monkeys. He checked his phone and frowned, still not managing to get a message from anyone, not even from Reborn. Something nudged the back of his mind, feeling oddly left out and that something had to have happened while he was away.

Growing anxious, Harry pocketed his phone and sighed.

"That's good," Dorea stood up and checked over his work, nodding approvingly. Harry shot her a quick grin, still feeling restless. "Great job, errand boy," and any proud feeling dissipated, leaving Harry wilting and sending her a sour look.

"I'm not your errand boy," Harry protested. Dorea smirked meanly at him, and Harry shuddered, glancing away. "Whatever. I'm leaving, I'll be back tomorrow so we can finally leave," Harry muttered. The sooner he got out of England, the better. The sooner he can get back, the less worried he'd feel.

The very least, someone could just text him!

"See you then," Dorea dismissed him, turning back to her tea. Harry stared at her back, before quietly leaving her house and started the journey back to the Leaky Cauldron. It was already nearing midnight, and it was quite miserable and dark out.

It was only when he was almost all-out brisk walking, near the Leaky Cauldron, that his phone vibrated. Harry instantly stopped, in the damp night, and hurriedly dug out his phone, in near desperation. It was a text from Reborn.

From: Reborn-san

To: Harry

Ciaossu.

(11:45)

Harry felt irritation wash over him, as his eye twitched. All this worrying for what? A lackluster greeting? Harry huffed and hurriedly tapped out a reply, stubbornly willing himself him forward with slow, even steps.

From: Harry

To: Reborn-san

That's it!? What's going on? Did something happen? Why is no one answering me?

(11:46)

Harry hurriedly rushed by bartender Tom, who called out a greeting which he hastily responded to with a grunt. He felt his phone vibrate after a few moments on his way up to his room, of which he thrown the door open and startled Hedwig, who made a disgruntled noise. He sent her an absent-smile as an apology, letting the door close behind him as he sat heavily on his bed, cradling his phone tightly.

From: Reborn-san

To: Harry

Good morning to you too.

(11:50)

Right, morning. Harry did a quick calculation in his head, and internally winced. It was probably tomorrow for them, 8:50 AM. School was in session, right? Harry fiddled with his phone, debating on what to send. Luckily for him, Reborn's caller ID popped up as his phone vibrated at an incoming call. Feeling slightly relieved, Harry breathed out a sigh and answered.

"Reborn!" Harry greeted, tapping his foot against the carpet of his room. Hedwig eyed him from her spot in the cage, curiously. "How's it—what?"

"Calm down, gattino," Reborn didn't sound worried, which did wonders for Harry. "I know you're probably curious." Harry twitched, narrowing his eyes slightly and casting his gaze to the side, almost sheepishly. A bit more than curious. "But everyone is fine and well."

"That's good to hear," Harry started, still a bit anxious. "But what happened? Did something happen? Or did everyone just decide to blacklist me for the past couple of days?" Which would have sucked, by the way, and the thought of that actually being the reason caused a surge of disdain and worry wash over him. He desperately hoped that wasn't the case.

Reborn was silent for a few moments. "Have you heard any information on someone called Mukuro Rokudo?"

Harry raised his eyebrows, despite knowing that Reborn wouldn't see them. A reply was already in his mouth, but he snapped his teeth shut, mulling over the name. He furrowed his brows in confusion, the name faintly ringing a bell in his head. Mukuro Rokudo. Mukuro Rokudo….

Ah.

The feeling of realization seeped into worry, and a taught line shot through him, making him shoot up and take some heaving breaths to keep calm. What—why? Why him? Why was he mentioning that guy? Obviously, it had to linked to the lack of communication these past few days. But-

"What happened?" Harry repeated himself, pacing restlessly. Hedwig was staring blatantly at him, chirping a bit to get his attention. "Reborn," Harry urged after a few more moments of silence.

"I will send you an official report on what happened recently. The basic rundown of it, however is this: the 9th head of the Vongola assigned this case to dame-Tsuna when it came to light that Mukuro Rokudo had set his sights on finding the upcoming 10th of the Vongola. It was a chance to see if Tsuna really is up to become the next head, while taking care of a dangerous adversary." Reborn seemed to take a sip of something on the other side of the line, presumably coffee. There was a certain laxness in his voice. "Don't be so surprised, gattino," Reborn continued.

Harry sensed an underlying message there: you know that there are worse criminals in the mafia.

Which was—well, true. But that didn't mean that Mukuro Rokudo wasn't dangerous enough to cause a bit of worry. Especially to Tsuna.

"I'm glad they're safe," Harry managed, at last. "I apologize for not being there."

"Don't worry about it," Reborn responded primly. "You'll have future chances of proving your worth to Vongola." Harry sighed and moved back to his bed, falling heavily back onto it. He stared blandly up at the ceiling. He missed his chance—he missed his chance in order to go on a whirlwind of a vacation in England, yay.

Though—Harry winced, and dug out the wand he had accidentally landed on. He palmed it as he stared contemplatively at it. There was a silver-lining to this whole trip. Magic was real, and Harry had access to it.

That means he had something to use to his advantage.

"I won't let you down," Harry promised, resolve burning in his chest. He barely heard Reborn's amused snort as the call ended between them, with him tossing his phone casually to his bed.

Hedwig chirped curiously at him as he settled next to her, eying the assortment of magical texts in front of him. His leg shook in his excitement, finally eager to learn something useful out of all this. He fed Hedgwig a treat as he finally decided on a book, the first year book of spells.

Rome wasn't built in a day, after all. He needed to start somewhere.

Especially if he wanted a chance to prove himself to the Vongola. To Tsuna, and Reborn, and the rest.

For the family that matters.

-0-0-0-

"Where are we, Reborn?" Tsuna complained, glancing around the dim hotel room blearily. He felt exhausted, his nerves were on edge and on fire, and all he wanted to do was laze around and complain about how much pain he was in. Even if—Tsuna clamped down on his tongue, risking a glance at an equally exhausted and if not more uncomfortable Gokudera and Yamamoto. He—he had no right to complain now that he thought about it.

Reborn just smirked at them.

"This is," Reborn said leadingly, and Tsuna had to squint in the darkness. "Harry's suite."

The lights somehow flicked on, and Tsuna couldn't help but blink.

"Eh? What the hell are we doing here then?" Tsuna sputtered, glancing around before squeezing his eyes shut. "He didn't—I—does he even know we're here? This is totally an invasion of privacy, you know!" Not to mention how they got in via Reborn kicking the door open. Oh god, they were breaking and entering—

"Tch," Gokudera was surveying the room with a frown, expression a bit sour. "How the hell can he afford something like this?" It was a really nice suite, with a couple of adjourning doors probably leading to other rooms, along with a small kitchenette in the corner. Everything was seemingly shiny, with elaborate marbling and comfortable looking furniture.

Tsuna felt depressed and out of place standing in the middle of it all, casual clothing seeming drab in such a fancy suite.

Well—out of place and helplessly broke.

"Seriously?" Yamamoto was glancing around curiously. "Harry lives here? This place is amazing!"

"Why are we here, Reborn?" Tsuna sighed, shuffling his feet nervously. He was scared to move, afraid that his clumsiness might act up amidst his aching nerves and probably cause some irreparable damage to Harry's home. He almost wanted to warn Gokudera and Yamamoto to not nose around, which the two were obviously doing, poking around the suite— "H-hey," Tsuna started.

He didn't get to finish.

"Harry-nii! Harry-nii!" Lambo charged into the suite, stopping next to Tsuna and glancing excitedly around. "Where is Harry-nii?"

I-pin appeared behind Lambo, glancing around eagerly too. Tsuna wanted to groan, but instead settled for rubbing at his face. "He—he isn't here," Tsuna admitted lamely to the two children. Lambo stared disbelieving up at him, expression scarily blank before crumpling.

Oh no, Tsuna thought.

"Yet," a surprising voice offered, and everyone glanced at Reborn. He was lounging in an armchair, sipping his espresso. "He isn't here yet," Reborn finished with an innocent smile.

"He's coming back today?" Lambo inquired, hopefully. At Reborn's nod, Lambo grinned and ran out of the suite. I-pin looked a bit unsure until they all heard Lambo's shout, "I'm gonna throw Harry-nii a party! A party!"

"W-wait! I-pin wants to help too!" I-pin ran after him.

"A party, huh?" Tsuna muttered, staring after them. Well, if Harry was going to come back today, then—then maybe helping them out wouldn't be such a hassle. Before Tsuna could turn to Reborn to ask him about it, he was kicked to the ground. "Ah- ow!"

"That's how come we're in Harry's apartment today," Reborn announced, even as Tsuna scrambled away on the floor, clutching the side of his head. Gokudera had appeared from poking around Harry's bookcase, and Yamamoto wandered back from the kitchenette.

Tsuna didn't like Reborn's expression.

"We're going to throw Harry a Vongola-style welcome home!"

-0-0-0-

Harry felt dead on his feet.

Dorea had him meet with Hibari Kyoya's father, Hibari Hideki. He seemed haggard, and stern; it appeared as if he's been dragged through hell and back again. Harry felt a bit bad dropping Dorea off with him, especially when an excited yell emitted from behind him and a knife flew over his head. Harry had yanked Dorea down with him, flames flickering under his skin.

Another older woman appeared, shoving Hideki out of the way and grinning with too much teeth. Dorea had pushed Harry down in getting up, smiling back and hugging—Harry let his head flop back down with a humorless laugh.

Sisters, huh?

The Hibari family was weird.

Hibari Hideki seemed to lament this fact, at least. He was pale, his expression strained. "Thank you for bringing her to us." Harry had nodded quickly and left, because despite saying that, Hideki seemed ready to murder him specifically for it.

Harry gets enough flack from his son, he didn't need another Hibari after his head.

Harry was tempted to head to the Sawada house, in order to pick up Lambo and hug him for all he's worth. He missed the little guy, despite his annoying behavior at times, and just wanted the comfort of knowing that no matter what happened—he was still Lambo's favorite.

And probably seeing Tsuna while he was there would have been nice as well. Harry's Lightning flames curled under his skin, itchy and paranoid; they wanted to feel Tsuna's Sky flames, as budding as they were. It was comforting, soothing a raw ache Harry didn't really notice before meeting him.

In the end, Harry decided against it; it was late at night, and he didn't think he'd have enough energy to keep up with whatever they brought, Vongola or Lambo. He'd head back to his suite, and sleep. Tomorrow, when he wasn't traumatized and exhausted from the wizarding world and general Hibari family weirdness, he'll see his most precious people.

For now? Sleep was calling his name.

It was unfortunate that when he was about to unlock his suite door that it was blew off its hinges and slammed into him. He grunted as he was shoved back into the opposing wall, some of the wood splintering before he braced himself against it and shoved back.

The familiar sound of a gun going off had him blinking wildly at the scene of Reborn shooting the door in half so it fell into harmless pieces beside him. Tsuna was sputtering and screeching behind Reborn in Harry's apartment, stuck holding a cake with candles shoved into it. Yamamoto and Gokudera were trying to calm him down, amidst fighting amongst themselves; Yamamoto was trying to wave enthusiastically at him while batting Gokudera's angry snarls away from him.

Harry felt caught off-guard and confused, the defensive flare of Lightning flames in him dying down a bit. He grunted when two little blurs flew at him, automatically crouching down to embrace Lambo and I-Pin.

"Fratello!" Lambo sobbed, rubbing his snotty face into Harry's jacket. Harry grimaced lightly, though fond. "You're back! You're really back!"

"I am," Harry agreed with a slight laugh. With little effort, he stood with both of the children clinging to him. He then noticed Fuuta shyly standing in the door way and grinned at him. "It's nice to see you all again. I hope you haven't been having too much fun without me."

"No way! Dame-Tsuna and the others are laaaame," Lambo whined, shaking his head. I-pin nodded her head slightly in quiet agreement. "They don't play with me like you do! So they're stupid!"

"Be nice!" I-pin hissed, pinching Lambo in the arm. Lambo yelped and tumbled out of Harry's grasp, with I-pin following. "Lambo! Stop it!"

"You're the one chasing me!"

"You're being troublesome!"

Harry watched as they darted back into his suite, and he sighed. He eyed the broken remnants of his door (did Reborn hate his door or something?) before giving a curious glance at his three friends, and Reborn. Tsuna looked mortified, still holding onto the cake, while Reborn just smirked and walked further into his suite.

"Hello?" Harry offered as he stepped into his own home, feeling like a stranger. Tsuna let out a weak, almost choked nose. Gokudera stopped his berating of Yamamoto to focus on him with an angry huff.

"About time! What took you so long, idiot? You kept the 10th waiting far too long!" Gokudera scrutinized him, circling him suspiciously. Harry shifted, tightening his grip on bag and smiling slightly.

"It feels like forever since we saw you last, right, Harry?" Yamamoto swooped in, interfering Gokudera's inspection of him. Gokudera scowled, as the baseball player threw a hefty arm around Harry's shoulders in some sort of one-armed hug. "How was the trip? Was it cool? Did you bring me back a souvenir?"

"Guys," Tsuna finally found the words, making the two other boys stop. Harry was grateful, because he was still tired and wasn't expecting a home invasion right when he got back to Japan. "Sorry about all of this, Harry-san," Tsuna said earnestly, with a slightly apologetic smile.

"It's all cool," Harry replied coolly, waving off his concerns. While a surprise, he was also delighted. They cared enough for a 'welcome home' barrage, and—that was utterly amazing, in Harry's view. This was a first for him. "You made a cake and everything! What's it say?" Harry peered at it closely, curious.

The words were messy and illegible, Lambo's handywork recognizable even now. The wax melting off the candles weren't helping, and Harry couldn't help but laugh a bit at it, bemused. Tsuna sighed a little laugh with him:

"'Welcome home', Harry-san."

Home.

Review, favorite, follow, or whatever you do on stories that you read!

Or on stories that you thought were abandoned and probably forgot about! :'D

(I am really sorry about that—I am also a reader who wishes their favorite stories updated more often…)

((You either die a hero, or live long enough to become a villain…..))

See ya' next time!

-mms