Of Owls and Handguns

By TheAlpacaIllusionist

Hermione wanted to fit in. Xanxus wanted to screw the system. Neville wanted acknowledgement. Dumbledore wanted forgiveness. Squalo just wanted everyone to shut the hell up and do as they were told. Everyone wanted something and it seemed Harry Potter—I mean, Tsunayoshi Sawada—was the perfect person to give them what they wanted.

Prologue: And There Began His Story…

Eleven long years ago, on a particularly dreary Halloween night, Harry Potter was being set down in his hand carved crib in a quaint little house nestled in the historical wizarding settlement of Godric's Hollow. It was late and by this point in the evening, many trick-or-treaters had left the streets to return to the warmth of their homes where they could count and hide away the night's spoils. However, for Lily and James Potter, Harry's biological parents, muggle traditions were the last things on their minds. As Lily put her son, her sweet, sweet boy, down in the plush sheets of his bed ("Really, Daddy? You're giving this to us? It's beautiful!" Lily cried as she hugged her father who had just presented her and her husband with the hand made crib), thinking belatedly of how Sirius Black had promised a visit the following morning, there was a knock at the door. A knock which she dismissed, that is, until that knock suddenly became the hinges being blown off the wall and James shouting out that he was there, in their home, he was there, but he couldn't get Harry, not Harry, please never Harry, not my sweet, darling boy, not him, never him, Merlin no, please, please, pleasepleaseplease.

Death comes quickly when one is hit by the killing curse. James ("You're going to be a father," she told him, quite out of the blue. In response, James nearly fell from his chair before an expression of such pride took over any shock that remained on his face) was on the floor before the flash of green had faded from the entry hall, eyes glassy, wand in his warm hand, and glasses shattered only a few feet from him.

Lily knew what would come next. She grabbed the son she loved with every inch of her life, and she held him close even as his wide amber, tear-filled eyes stared up in fear. Her own tears she kept at bay, running to the door of the nursery even as she heard the rustle of robes on the steps down the hall. Her thoughts were reeling, her heart pounding, her mind a mess of fear and love for her child, because no, not James, why James, James, please, no, I love you! And, oh god, Harry, Harry, my precious star, my beautiful son, my love, I love you, I love you, he won't get you, I promise, no, no, no, not my Harry, not my baby, not my dear, dear boy, I promise.

"Mommy loves you," she whispered, sitting him down once more in the crib, ignoring that deep tawny gaze watching her through the bars. "Daddy loves you," she added for good measure as the door to the nursery (James laughed as he flicked white paint at Lily. "We could always just magic the paint onto the door," he said even as Lily flicked paint back at him, her belly swollen because that was her baby in there, hers and James'. He wasn't going to be born for another few weeks, but they both already loved him so much) flew wide open.

Lily couldn't stop the scream that escaped her, couldn't stop herself as she threw herself in front of her son (Lily gave one last push and then the room went quiet. Countless seconds of silence went by before a loud cry filled the air. In moments, the infant was in her arms and the red head found herself crying because this was her child and Merlin help her if he grew up in a world dominated by blood supremacy and the like. "My son," she murmured and James knelt down beside her, the happiness in his eyes matched only by that time that she finally agreed to date him. "Our son," she corrected.)

"You can't have him!" she cried, the tears she'd been fighting now running down her face.

"Step aside!" The voice was high and cold, somehow exactly as she had imagined it.

"No!" No, no, no, no! She'd said it once, she'd say it a thousand more times. No. This monster who was no longer a man would not lay a finger on her boy, not as long as someone in this cruel, cruel world loved him.

"Very well then," that clear voice murmured from beneath the black fabrics that hid his face. And Lily barely saw it coming, her green eyes focusing on her child, the sweet boy who she knew would be an orphan after this night because—

—Lily fell to the blast of green magic, just as her husband ("Oh James," Lily laughed into her husband's shoulder. "It's perfect." And it was. Despite the war the waged around them, despite the fact that one of them may leave the house to never return, everything, from the nursery to their love for the child growing inside of her was perfect) before her.

Harry's cries filled the room, but the demon in black did not care. From beneath his hood, his gaze was level and red, inhuman. Just as he did for the boy's parents before, he raised a single pale hand and cast the spell he'd cast so many times, no reason to suspect that anything abnormal would happen.

But something abnormal did happen. Most people don't know what it was that happened, most people don't know any of the story beyond what the world believed had happened. The only thing the wizarding world knows is true is that while Lily and James Potter lost their lives that night, Harry Potter did not. He escaped the night with naught but a lightning shaped scar while the one that everyone feared, the one whose name most dared not utter, did not escape at all. Lord Voldemort, the bane of the Wizarding World, met his end that night.

While Harry's cries filled the eerily silent room, children dressed in silly costumes, unaware of what had just occurred only a few dozen feet from where they stood, laughed amongst each other as they shared in innocent fun, their joy filling up the quiet of the night.

And so, Hagrid found the crying infant, unaware that he had not been the first to enter the Potter household after the horrific events that had occurred. But he was the first to spare the orphaned child more than a second glance.

Hagrid, friendly, giant Hagrid (the same Hagrid that would, eleven years later, tell the child before him that he was a wizard) grabbed the bundle of blankets and followed Dumbledore's orders. Not the original orders, no, those were scrapped the moment Dumbledore learned of the cold-blooded murder of Lily's sister and her family, but the revised orders.

The giant man mounted his bike (Sirius' bike, the one he gave him out of grief and sadness only hours before) and began the long flight that would carry him from England, away into another continent entirely.

To Japan.

It was there that Dumbledore, McGonagall and Hagrid left the one year old child on the front step of a normal house in the suburbs. It was there that Harry Potter, saviour of the wizarding world, faded away into Tsunayoshi Sawada, useless punching bag extraordinaire, and no one would dare to disturb this established equilibrium until the day that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry sent out a very peculiar letter that left the members of the Sawada household reeling.

Author's Note: This is my baby. I am still undecided over whether or not I should post each year and each summer as its own (very long) chapter or if I should break them up into parts...hmm, decisions.

Other than that, any characters you're hoping will show up? How will Tsuna being Harry screw up HP canon? Is Dumbledore good or bad in this fic? Was Tsuna still sealed by Timoteo? And who will be Vongola Decimo if Tsuna is going to Hogwarts? Questions, questions... until next time.