(A/N: Rated M for mature content and language.

So... I was watching Grimm (good show, BTW; check it out if you haven't seen it) and had a little -very inappropriate- daydream of Nick meeting up with Harry. I looked around and there weren't any fics like that already (for shame!) so I had to do my own. And voila! Grimmy was created. Not my usual thang but I figured 'why not?'. I'm not a Grimm super-fan (I used Grimm Wiki A LOT) so please forgive any errors for spelling or bad creature characterization/development. I'll put a key at the end for all the random Grimm bits, so hopefully it won't be too confusing for anyone that doesn't watch the show.

Overall warnings: Crossover/AU. MalexMale slash. Smut. Language. Violence/Gore. Death (none of the main characters, though).

Enjoy! :))

Harry Potter landed with a stumble, cursing under his breath as he managed to just barely keep his footing. He absently blew a few errant strands of hair out of his eyes. Thankfully he'd learned to silently apparate years ago, and since he'd managed to distract himself at the last minute and miss his target by a good 100 yards, his sudden presence wasn't given away. He landed right by the sign for the town of Portland, OR. He sighed with relief as he looked around; the immediate area was quiet and deserted.

He fished out the shrunken file from his pocket, enlarged it and re-familiarized himself with the information, removing the folded map. He needed to find the police station. He fought the urge to just use a Point Me and turned the map a few times, trying to orient himself, before he started walking.

He walked into the police station, the familiar sounds soothing. As an Auror, it was almost the same cacophony of controlled chaos he was used to whenever he entered the Auror department at the Ministry. The only thing missing were people dashing about in robes (instead of uniformed and plain-clothed cops mixing with civilians) and memos zooming overhead. He stopped by the main desk, putting on a friendly smile. "Hullo, I'd like to speak with Detective Nick Burkhardt, please."

The uniformed officer behind the desk looked Harry over, a small, polite smile on her face. "In regards to?" she asked with a polite but commanding tone.

"A case." Harry said and flashed a badge. Well, it was a leather bi-fold he'd glamoured to look like a badge, anyway. Aurors didn't use badges. Their distinctive robes and overall aura was enough identification in the Wizarding world. So far any case he has had to work with Muggle authorities, the glamoured badge has worked without a problem; anyone looking saw what they needed to see.

It probably helped he acted 'like a cop', as well. He'd learned Muggle cops were as instinctual as any Auror. He gave his best charming smile when she leaned forward and studied his 'badge'. Her eyes flicked over where he knew his name and picture would be and she nodded after another moment of study, her eyes flicking between his face and the 'badge'.

"Right through there," the officer finally said with a smile and pointed to a set of double doors, large windows in the carved wood gave a clear view of a busy room and numerous cops at work. "To the left."

Harry nodded his thanks and made his way to a large room full of desks, each cluster consisting of two desks pushed together—facing each other. Only about half were occupied, the rest were in various states of clutter and disorder he saw frequently at his own department. He smiled a little; it was nice to see the similarities.

He fought the ridiculous urge to pause and stare with a smitten smile when he saw Detective Nick Burkhardt hunched over a pile of opened files. The picture he had on file didn't do the man justice and he had to fight down any urges that warred with his professionalism. He rounded the desk, making sure he was in the man's eye line and softly cleared his throat. "Detective Nick Burkhardt?" He tried not to ogle the exposed forearms and head of stylishly messy, short dark hair.

"Yeah," Nick said, not looking up. He was desperate not to lose his train of thought; he was so close to connecting the facts together, he could feel it. Not getting any other response from the visitor, he looked up with a small frown only to blink with surprise when he looked up. The rather short, skinny man standing by his desk was somehow a rather imposing figure. Belatedly, the accent filtered in his mind and he narrowed his eyes slightly at the other man. He was standing casually but with authority.

He couldn't help looking the man up and down, taking in bright green eyes and a complete bird's nest of black hair, and feeling rather stumped by his presence. Something about him made the Grimm instinct niggle in the back of his mind but it wasn't the usual feeling. Very curious... He looked up again and noticed the green eyes regarding him with cautious friendliness.

"What can I do for you?" he finally asked, refusing to be embarrassed at what was surely a too-long perusal of the other man.

Harry gave a small, polite smile and held up his 'badge'. "Detective Harry Potter. Scotland Yard, Metropolitan Police." He watched the dark haired man glance at his badge with furrowed brows and then back at him, still frowning. He wanted to fidget at the intense gaze from the piercing blue-grey eyes as they studied him. It was unsettling. "I followed a lead here," he said and looked around with interest before giving Detective Burkhardt his attention again.

"I see," Nick said slowly, intrigue swiftly joining the earlier slight irritation and curiosity. It answered his question and didn't at the same time. Kind of annoying, actually. "What can I help you with Detective Potter?" he asked calmly. He didn't know why the man was claiming to be a cop, a British cop, and flashed an empty wallet(he had seen a badge but when he concentrated on it, it blinked away—like an illusion) as if it had a badge in it. It was very odd. He looked like a cop and he wasn't feeling any actual deception otherwise. He watched as Detective Potter looked around again, a touch of discomfort on his face.

"Is there somewhere we can talk that's a bit more private?" Harry asked. "I'd rather not be overheard..." he trailed off, eyeing the numerous people walking around. Most weren't paying them any mind, but he barely liked the idea of discussing what he needed to with the Detective and he really didn't fancy being overheard. Casting a privacy ward was also out of the question, no matter how much he wanted to. He didn't fancy Obliviating an entire room of Muggle cops.

Nick nodded after a long moment and stood, closing his files before leading the way to one of the empty interrogation rooms. He leaned against the edge of the table and crossed his arms. "What can I help you with?" he asked again when Detective Potter had stepped in and closed the door. He wiped any emotion from his face when Potter sighed and lost a bit of the confidence from his posture. Apparently, this wasn't going to be run of the mill.

"I need your help with a case." Harry pulled the file from his pocket, glad he had taken care to enlarge it before he came in. He sorted through some papers and pulled out a few pictures and a typed report. It had taken him weeks to find a Muggle typewriter and it came in handy in times such as these. Muggles always looked at parchment like an oddity and computers just blew up whenever he did even the simplest charm near them.

He passed the pages over to Nick, keeping a few in the folder. "We've been tracking a terrorist group." He nodded at the papers, feeling the familiar, sickening flush of rage and helplessness he always felt when dealing with Death Eaters. The few that escaped death or capture from the last war were trying to regroup, and had started recruiting again. The Ministry even had to have Aurors at Hogwarts full time, trying to keep the later-years from Death Eater influence. It was disheartening to know they'd attempting to reach every house, not just Slytherin. It wasn't exactly the sort of open-mindedness and acceptance of Muggleborns and Half-bloods he had hoped for.

Nick looked through the photos and tried not to grimace. He has seen a lot, both as a Grimm and as a cop, but the photos he looked at now had his stomach churning. One photo had him wondering how much blood had remained in the victim as a large pool surrounded a very pale, very shredded corpse. Another almost had him cupping his crotch protectively as he took in the mutilation the man suffered.

He looked up briefly to see Detective Potter looking at him with a guarded expression. "Who—What—" He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He'd certainly had his share of weird cases but he didn't know how he'd come to Potter's attention. "Why come to me?" he eventually asked, truly curious. There were plenty of detectives on duty today but the guy came right to him, asking for him by name.

"I noted your name on a few reports of a... similar nature. I was told you were used to dealing with cases of... an odd sort." Harry said slowly, still unsure of Nick's reaction. It hadn't taken much research to find the detective's name after looking into other such cases once he widened his search. Nick looked understandably shaken by the photos. Victims in various stages of dissection (many found later to have been done premortem) and the victims of various magical creatures.

The worst, somehow, were the ones that weren't at all bloody; faces distorted and frozen in terror or bodies completely intact but drained of every drop of blood.

He stood there, watching quietly, as Nick flipped through the papers again, this time he read them thoroughly instead of skimming like he'd done the first time. Harry hadn't included anything that gave any indication the case was anything out of the Muggle world. He hadn't had a chance to glamour the Ministry seal and other magic-related information off of some of the papers.

Nick read detailed detective reports, witness reports and autopsy reports and something settled heavily in his chest and stomach. He wondered how often Potter dealt with this sort of stuff. By the look of him he couldn't tell. He looked young but there was definitely knowledge of highly unpleasant things in those green eyes. "What did you leave out?" he finally asked, looking up, his eyes quickly darting to the file still in Detective Potter's hand before looking back at the man.

"Nothing important," Harry said and quelled the childish urge to hide the file behind his back. "I'm not exactly permitted to share even that much," he said pointing to the numerous pages in Nick's hand. He was only supposed to show one photo and the report he'd written but he knew the man would've required more information. He certainly would have. Plus, he had a feeling Nick would be able to keep anything he learned to himself.

"Alright," Nick said slowly and tossed the papers onto the table with a soft slap. "What can I help with?"

Harry straightened and sighed inaudibly with relief. "I don't exactly have jurisdiction here so I need someone that does. I need to track down some leads and ask questions."

"I'll have ask my Captain," Nick said, his eyes drawn back to the top photo before regarding Potter with an expression that was half interested, half questioning. If he didn't know better, he'd swear one (or more) was a victim of a Blutbad or similar type Wesen. He glanced back at Potter and shrugged one shoulder. He was interested and if Captain Renard said no, which he doubted he would once he explained the details, he'd argue until the man gave in. This wasn't a case he could ignore.

Harry nodded, understanding. "I understand. If he allows it, will you help me?"

"If he does, yeah," Nick said, his eyes back on the top photo. "I'll help you."

Harry nodded again, a small relieved smile on his face. He could probably work something out if Nick's Captain needed proof or asked to speak with his superior. The head Auror knew he was here on the case but he didn't work with Muggles often. It always amused him to see the man look awkward when the rare occasion came around and he'd defer to Harry or any of the other Muggleborn Aurors. He didn't even know how to work a phone. He silently prayed Nick had a good report with his captain and nothing would go wrong.

-=#=-

Harry fidgeted in the front passenger seat of the car. He rolled down a window, cranking the lever with jerky movements and leaned towards the fresh air, trying not to stick his head out like a dog. He had been in a car enough times to count on one hand and he still didn't enjoy it. It was cramped and he felt like he was rolling in a tiny, metal death trap. He might feel better if he had been able to cast a strong protection charm (or a cushioning charm... maybe even a repelling charm) but he hadn't gotten the opportunity to sneak out his wand. He knew it was ridiculous, but he felt safer perched on a broom. At least that he could control in any direction...

"Are you alright?" Nick asked, his eyes darting from the tense man beside him before returning to watch the road. The poor guy was nearly hyperventilating and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead and upper lip as his tightly clenched fists rested stiffly on his thighs. He rolled his own window down, adding to the draft. He looked quickly away when Potter gave him a small, grateful smile.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled. "I don't like riding in cars..." he muttered and looked out the window and tried not to envision someone slamming into them and crushing the car. He shuddered, visions of Muggle car accidents assaulting him. Why he ever checked the stats for car accidents, he'll never know. He should have just used the new internet connection for porn like Seamus had recommended. He hadn't been able to be in a car calmly ever since; he was grateful the occasion didn't arise often. "How much longer?" he asked, trying to sound calm.

Nick peeked over again before stopping at a light. "Just down this block," he said pointing a finger off of the steering wheel. He looked over at Potter. "Hey, man. Do you need a minute?"

"No," Harry said and wiped at his brow. "I'm fine." He gave a shaky smile and sighed with relief when Nick pulled the car against a curb and parked. He was out of the car before the man had even turned the contraption off. He took a deep, shaky breath and resisted the urge to kiss the sidewalk. He waited until Nick came around and stood next to him. "Which one?"

Nick pointed to a small, pale yellow house that had seen better days. The paint was cracked and peeling, some of the siding was hanging at odd angles. The grass was either overgrown or brown in ugly, mottled patches. A crooked address marker showed it to be number 45. "That one," he said and started up the walk. He shifted unconsciously, moving to the left a bit to make room when Harry caught up and matched his stride, walking beside him instead of behind or in front. "How is the guy connected?"

"Witness," Harry said quietly when Nick went to knock. Almost immediately the door was opened and a thin, balding man in a threadbare sweater vest and plaid lounge pants answered the door with a wary expression. "Michael Kellogg?" The man nodded. "Detectives Potter and Burkhardt, Portland Police. May we ask you a few questions?" The man nodded again, his expression tinged with concern and fear as his hands came up and clasped tightly together as he pressed them to his chest.

Nick stood quietly, a bit impressed and a bit put out to have been neatly pushed aside by the British man. He didn't feel slighted but he also felt rather useless as Potter questioned the man, writing notes occasionally on a small leather-bound pad. He subtly peeked over Potter's shoulder and grinned a bit at the messy handwriting; it was barely legible. Some of it even appeared to be in some sort of short-hand or code that was unique to the other Detective. When there was a lull in questioning, Harry's pen still scratching away like crazy, he cleared his throat.

"How did you happen to not be seen?" he asked, looking at the man with a curious expression that barely hid an intense look that had the man fidgeting, his hands tightening on each other.

"I... uhm... I'm very good at not being seen," Michael said evasively, his pale, dishwater blue eyes darting between the two Detectives nervously. "I didn't stay long, I didn't see much more than what I said." He nearly squeaked when he looked at Nick, losing his control for a brief moment. Whiskers twitched nervously before disappearing again.

Harry went still and stiffened subtly when he felt a twinge of magic sweep over him. He glanced up from his notes, his eyes narrowed slightly. He didn't know what the man was hiding but it couldn't have been good but he felt no other magic from the timid man. At all. He glanced over at Nick and saw a muscle in the man's jaw jump as his teeth clenched together and a false smile was plastered onto his face.

He clicked his pen away and nodded curtly. Kellogg shrank back, his eyes on Harry now, trying to subtly hide behind his door. "Thank you, Mr. Kellogg." He took out a card, charming it with a quick burst of wand-less magic to read his name and temporary Muggle cell phone number. "If you think of anything else, please give me a call." The man took it gingerly and hurriedly stepped back, closing the door quickly but quietly. Harry turned abruptly and stalked off towards the curb.

"Helpful?" Nick asked when he finally caught up. For a little guy, Potter was quick. He managed not to flinch when met with darkened green eyes. It was an intimidating look. He didn't blame the Mauzhertz for shrinking back from it.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out, calming a bit, rubbing his palm into his forehead. "Not really. Like he said, he hid and then ran before he saw anything useful." Kellogg had seen a few figures in black capes, standing in a circle and chanting something that sounded like Latin, and that had been important, but it would only strike a Muggle as odd—not identifying or helpful at least.

He leaned against the car and checked his notes, stoically ignoring Nick's close proximity when he man leaned against the car next to him, casually glancing over his shoulder to peek at his notes. He stood his ground and grit his teeth slightly when the man's body heat and subtle scent invaded his senses.

"Nothing at all?" Nick asked, looking from Potter's notes to the house. He saw the Mauzhertz woge, a fearful reaction to his presence when he was finally noticed; further proof he'd been relegated to the background for most of the encounter. Oddly, he wasn't all that bothered by that fact. He did notice that Potter had stiffened but gave no other indication he had seen anything. He didn't know if it meant anything, though. Mauzhertzen were hardly dangerous or scary; they were literally part mouse and generally scared of their own shadows. He couldn't see Michael Kellogg being involved unless he was a victim.

Harry shook his head and flipped a page. "I have a list of suspects, can we start on them?" he asked, crossing off a few names. Since he'd written them down, three had been murdered, one died in a random accident and one died of natural causes; strange occurrences that he didn't find at all coincidental and he made a note of it. He glanced up and caught Nick staring at him, the corner of his mouth drawn between his teeth and a pensive look on his face. He jumped slightly when he saw Harry looking at him.

"Yeah, sure," Nick said and hurried to the driver's side, dodging traffic and practically throwing himself into the car. He didn't get Potter and it was a bit unsettling. There was so many different things pinging around on his radar, he didn't know what to focus on. "First name?" Harry held up his notepad and let him read it. He didn't have addresses for most of them, but he could get them easily enough. "I know this guy," he said quietly, pointing at a name half-way down the list. A slick stab of dread went through his gut.

"You know—" Harry checked where Nick was pointing, "—this Monroe?" he asked. It was annoying there was no first name (possibly last?) listed, but he could manage.

Nick nodded slowly as his hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I do. We're friends, actually," he said, smiling tightly. His forehead met the steering wheel with a hollow thunk. "It's a bit complicated. I'm staying with him for a while."

"Oh," Harry said, gobsmacked. He didn't know what to do or say. He didn't know the man well enough to offer any words that might comfort and he certainly didn't know how it was complicated. He wasn't going to leave the man off the list (or forget questioning him) because Nick knew him, though. He was relieved when Nick didn't ask him to either, even though he looked really upset about the situation. He couldn't help himself from wondering how close the friendship was, mentally cursing himself for his nosiness and unprofessionalism the next second. Unless it related to the case, it wasn't any of his damn business.

He shifted awkwardly, unsure what to say or do when Nick just continued to mutter to himself. He focused back on his notepad and his messy notes.

Nick muttered and smacked the steering wheel again. If Monroe was involved, as well as that Mauzhertz, this made the case a Grimm issue. He didn't know how involved Potter should be. One glance and he knew Potter wouldn't drop the case, though; he looked the very definition of tenacious. Did the man know about all the particulars before chasing it this far? Was he familiar with Wesen? He sighed and let his head fall back on the seat-rest.

"I'd rather talk to him first then, get him either cleared or..." he trailed off and muttered a curse under his breath. He rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes before starting the car and turning around, headed for 'home'.

-=#=-

Harry spent the ride to Monroe's house looking over his notes and thinking, successfully distracted from worrying himself stupid about being in a Muggle car. He chewed the end of his pen as he thought, a habit he hadn't been able to break no matter how much Draco scolded or mocked him for it. He chewed his quills too, the rare occasions he had to use one—he preferred pens to the messy things, though. He rolled his eyes at the thought of his partner and huffed with exasperated fondness.

Stupid blonde prat didn't want to come with him because he didn't think there was a case this far 'across the world' and over-due paperwork seemed a better use of his time and energy. Malfoy, however, did have an old charmed DA galleon—the only one linked with the one currently resting in his own pocket. Malfoy had insisted, refusing to be out of contact with him... just in case. Naturally, Malfoy made it seem like he was doing Harry a favor but it made him smile with pleasure anyway. A year ago the blonde probably wouldn't have bothered.

He focused on his notebook again, making cryptic notes about his interview with Kellogg. He didn't know what the tingle of magic meant, nothing was out of place and he had found no spells, charms or hexes used on or near him—or Nick. It was very confusing. He looked up when the car stopped and resisted the urge to place a comforting hand on Nick's arm. The man looked miserable but determined. He got out of the car before his resolve could weaken and he waited on the sidewalk, focusing his attention on the house they were parked in front of.

The house was nice. On the smaller side and well maintained; homey. He couldn't imagine a monster that would do the things he'd seen to be living here but he'd learned long ago never to be fooled by appearances. He absently rubbed at his side, a phantom twinge going through an old scar at the thought, and looked over when Nick joined him on the sidewalk.

"Wait here?" Nick asked, his tone hopeful but mostly resigned to Potter's refusal. He shrugged when Harry shook his head with a regretful expression. It was worth a shot. He started up the walk, again shifting over a step and having Harry quickly fall into step next to him. It was odd how easily the guy adapted to working with a stranger. He wondered if he was that adaptable by nature or that used to working with strangers. He didn't usually get along well with cops that went through partners like tissues.

Harry let Nick lead, watching as he paused with his hand mid-way to his pocket before changing course and rising to knock on the door instead. He felt bad, making the man knock on his own door, but this was official business. He did hope they could clear Monroe as a suspect quickly, though. He found the idea of Nick's friend being involved saddened him, mostly for Nick's sake.

The man that answered the door greeted Nick with a confused smile, obviously confused why Nick would knock in the middle of the day, before looking over at Harry.

Harry resisted the urge to step back a step when he felt magic again, it thrummed sharply this time, though. He saw a faint, almost ghostly, image of a werewolf flicker over Monroe's face and instinctively stuck a protective arm out ever so slightly as he stepped in front of Nick with a half step. His other hand was in his pocket and around his wand before he'd even had his other arm out.

"Detective Harry Potter, sir," he said tightly, keeping a tight rein on his magic only because Nick knew the man and was friends with him. He was praying for a misunderstanding, but he didn't relax just yet.

Nick stared as Harry reacted to Monroe's woge and swallowed thickly. He blinked stupidly, looking down at the arm still across his chest, when he realized the smaller man had moved to protect him. He nearly snorted at the irony. Well, that answered a few questions but brought up so many more. He pulled his eyes from a very tense Harry Potter, his brain still stuffed with questions and looked at his softly snarling friend.

"Monroe," he said quietly, getting the Blutbad's attention. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for Monroe's face to relax back and gave a soft sigh when it did. "We need to talk, man." He nodded firmly when Monroe gave Potter a wary, questioning look. He patted Harry's arm, grinning when Potter gave him a sheepish look that didn't exactly apologize and lowered his arm. He nearly thought it adorable.

"Yeah, alright," Monroe said. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and gave the dark haired stranger a small, apologetic smile. He hadn't meant to woge on the man; it was instinctual. Even the guy coming with Nick, a clear sign he wasn't there to hurt him, hadn't been able to stomp the urge out. "I'm sorry," he said with sincerity when he realized the man was still tense and radiating something that made him want to woge again and the hairs on the back of his neck want to stand up.

"Come in." He stepped back and waited until both Detectives were in before closing the door and resting against it. "What's up, Nick? Why you bringing strange men to my house?" he asked, trying to make it sound like a joke. He'd already teased the Grimm about moving on from Juliette but he didn't seriously consider this visit anything but work for both Detectives.

He looked the smaller man over and nearly raised an eyebrow. Not that he cared how humans did their... mating thing, but he was a bit surprised to catch the faintest hint of something that hinted of interest from the stranger before all his senses were blocked. He glanced at Nick and tried not to notice the Grimm checking out the other guy—subtly, from the corner of his eyes. Weird. But whatever. Again, he focused on the smaller guy.

He wasn't calm or hostile, just alert. He knew the other man was a cop... or something. But he was... different, too. Nick different but not at the same time. Confusing and interesting at the same time. He paused when piercing green eyes pinned him with an intense gaze and he pressed himself a bit more firmly against the door, fighting the urge to whimper or show submission to the smaller man. It was... disconcerting.

Nick sighed and walked into the living room, flopping onto the sofa and waving Potter over. "We're here to ask some questions, Monroe."

"Really?" Monroe said, looking between the two. "About what? Man, you know I don't do... that stuff anymore." He gave Nick a pointed look that said 'I help you, you ass'. Nick shrugged helplessly and looked at the other man. He knew he had said his name but he was drawing a blank; he had still been seething when the guy had introduced himself. Harvey? No. Harold? No. Harry? Maybe... He looked between the Detectives and nodded his consent. It was clear Nick was here officially, even if he didn't agree or want to be. He looked towards the smaller man warily and nodded his understanding. Whatever the issue was, this guy Potter was leading the show.

Harry stepped into the room but didn't relax yet. He needed a lot more answers before he could do that. He had a lot of questions for the tall man and he didn't know where to start. He stared with something easy—his name—and went from there.

By the time Harry accepted a second cup of tea, Nick was sprawled over the sofa, feeling faint and dimly excited. He was still trying to absorb everything that he had learned in the past hour since practically invading Monroe's home with Potter. "Hold on—" He raised a hand. He watched as Harry froze almost comically, his mug halfway to his lips, and only Harry's eyes shifted to look at him. "What's a Death Eater, again?" He suppressed a shudder; it was a rather descriptive term, really, but it was so morbid.

"A cult, of sorts," Harry said again. He hadn't gone into the exact details; he left out the part about magic. For now. "Their first leader was... killed, but they've regrouped and are trying to do their little 'blood cleansing' thing again."

Monroe whistled softly, shaking his head. "That's some messed up stuff, man. So, I'm guessing they're using Wesen to do their dirty work?" he asked, figuring that was what brought the two Detectives to him. He nearly groaned at Harry's confused but intently interested expression. Shit; he hadn't known about Wesen?

"Wesen? I don't know—Explain that, please?" Harry asked, his voice a bit tight with excitement, and set his mug down with exaggerated care. He'd explained the case as best he could without mentioning magic or the Wizarding world specifically but he had the feeling he'd be altering that—and soon. His notepad was back out, his pen poised and ready. He turned when Nick muttered and shot Monroe a withering look. "What?"

Monroe grimaced and tried to hide his very tall frame in his chair. Shit shit shit. "Nothing."

"No, explain what Wesen means, please." Harry said, firmly but politely. It felt important and he wasn't going to just give up. He looked to Nick, cocking his head a bit when he realized the man was sitting stiffly and still glaring darkly at Monroe. There was a sense of authority in that glare that didn't have squat to do with him being a cop and it was intriguing. Well, sexy as fuck but he was being professional right now.

"Is this some sort of... supernatural thing?" he asked quietly, a bit hesitant. The twinges of magic he'd felt since apparating here and the strange ghostly werewolf image made a bit more sense, if so. He watched Nick closely, smirking a bit with triumph when the man started, eyes going a bit wide and he looked away. It was interesting to see the man unsettled.

Nick looked away, unsure of what to do. Harry Potter was not the average cop; he wasn't an average anything as far as he could tell. He closed his eyes for a moment and trusted his instincts. "Yes."

-=#=-

Harry was scribbling furiously, taking notes as Nick and Monroe talked. The pair traded off the story telling almost as smoothly as the Weasley twins. He listened intently and took notes as he did so. Wesen (he'd started to spell it with a 'v' and had been gently corrected by Nick; ugh, German) were Human-like creatures; a hybrid of sorts. They were human as much as animal. They were able to 'hide' themselves and look human most of the time. There were a lot of different kinds; he'd lost track at all the various species, making notes to get a list if and when needed. Monroe pointed at Nick and said something about him being a Grimm.

He held up a hand. "You're a Grimm?" Harry asked, turning to Nick. "Like... as in fairy-tales?" he asked seriously.

"Yeah, pretty much," Nick said, watching Harry for any signs of humor or mocking. There weren't any. He took everything they've said in the last 20 minutes the same way; calm, taking almost constant notes (very few of them in the cryptic shorthand, he noticed) and understanding nods. No disbelief. No jokes. Not even a snicker or an eye roll. Even Hank hadn't taken the news so well and he's known him for years. Harry hadn't asked a question until now.

"It's hard to explain... but being a Grimm is something that's been a part of my family. It's just... there. For generations. We can see Wesen... sense them. Fight them. Most Grimms have a reputation of 'kill first—ask questions later'." He shook his head sadly. He could sort of understand the mindset but he couldn't justify just blindly killing anyone that hadn't earned it. He didn't blame most Wesen for being wary or downright defensive around him but he never attacked first if he could help it.

Monroe nodded. "I nearly killed him the first time we met," he said with a fond chuckle. Harry just squinted at him but he shrugged. It was true. He'd only ever known a Grimm that meant to kill him. Nick was... unique in his sense of fairness and justice. He'd think him naive if he didn't know Nick so well. The man knew how the world worked, he just tried to uphold his own ideals and morals. He looked at Harry closely and his nostrils flared, reminding Harry he'd let his Protego slack; he didn't feel in any danger so he didn't bother recasting it.

The Blutbad couldn't place the man's scent or any of the more subtle things he sensed. "So, what are you then?" he asked looking Harry over with naked curiosity on his face.

Nick would have normally said something in chastisement for such a rude question but he was curious too. He looked at Harry, his face open and curious, as well; silently pleading for answers.

Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead with a resigned set to his shoulders. Merlin, how did he quickly become such a sucker for wide, blue-grey puppy eyes? "I'm a wizard." He felt it was only fair to share, since the whole Grimm/Wesen thing wasn't exactly well known knowledge. From what he heard, it was as secretive as the Wizarding world. Naturally, some facts had leaked to Muggles but were pawned off as fairy tales and science fiction. If he wanted to justify it, he could probably squint just right and see both men as magical in their own way.

They weren't Muggles, that was for sure.

He watched as Nick blinked, surprised but with no sign of disbelief. He saw open, amused delight on Monroe's face, the expression making the Blutbad look almost cuddly for a moment. He leaned back and sipped at his tea, waiting for reactions—truly unsure just what they would be.

"A wizard?" Monroe said, his voice tinged with wonder. Harry nodded. "No shit." He laughed with delight and sat back in his chair. "I know this is a bit hypocritical, man, but I always thought wizards were fantasy. Made-up stuff in movies, books and fairy tales you tell kids about before they go to bed."

Harry gave a crooked grin and raised his hands, palms up. "It's true." He looked to Nick to see the man gazing at him curiously.

"Are you not a cop then?" Nick finally asked. Everything else he could ask later, hopefully. He didn't like the idea of some wizard playing cop, though. Not only was it dangerous, it was illegal.

"No, I am," Harry said reassuringly, sensing Nick's anxiousness. "I'm an Auror. Sort of like a cop, but for the Wizarding world. Probably a better comparison to a federal agent for you lot." Harry explained. He was subtly fingering his wand, expecting a request for a demonstration. "We don't usually have to work with Muggles." He chuckled at the twin confused looks. "Non-magical people," he explained.

Monroe laughed with delight again. "Muggles... that's a really weird word, man. Oh! Are dragons real?" he asked, leaning forward in his chair and a look of child-like curiosity on his face.

"Yup," Harry said, grinning. "My adoptive brother actually works with dragons. In Romania." He laughed when Monroe's face went slack with amazement. "Aren't there any dragonesque Wesen?" Nick and Monroe both nodded their heads, both thinking of the Dämonfeuer they'd had an unfortunate run in with, identical expressions of awe and discomfort on their faces. He didn't blame them; not if they were anything like the ones he'd learned about in the Wizarding world. They were rare, Wizards with dragon-creature blood, and they were vicious. He was glad they were rare and kept to themselves, only bothering with the general wizarding population if they happened to have a mate outside of their colonies. "I suppose you wouldn't believe me if I said I flew against a dragon when I was 14? Stole an egg from one."

Monroe snickered and waved a dismissive hand. "Sure, sure, of course you did," he snorted and stood, shaking his head as he went into the kitchen. Chuckling sporadically and muttering 'sure, flew against a dragon at 14' as he went.

"You're not kidding," Nick said, looking at Harry. He nodded when Harry slowly shook his head. He couldn't believe it but he definitely knew the man wasn't lying. "Well then. Now I really don't want to know what you did when you were 12," he said jokingly. He paused when the corners of Harry's lips quirked down and the man looked away for a moment, a dark look flickering over his face.

Harry's lips folded in, resisting the urge to blurt out 'fought a giant snake' and just shrugged. He did not want to come across as bragging and really, it wasn't important to what was going on. "I really would like your help with this, now more than ever. You know this world, you can help me find these people. The Death Eaters... they're using Wesen. I think they're also killing them when they can't use them or when they have no more use for them," he added, holding up his note-book with the crossed out names.

"I'll help," Nick said simply, giving Harry an open look. "I couldn't in good conscience say no." He ignored a strange fluttering when Harry smiled at him, relief and happiness radiating from the man. "Has this happened before?"

Harry shook his head and leaned back into the comfortable sofa as he rubbed a hand over his face and cupped his neck between his palms. "Not that I know of. Any other time, I was able to track everything to another wizard or magical creature. We've got our own sort of Wesen, I suppose you could say. I've known quite a few personally and I try to make sure they aren't villainized," he said quietly, feeling the urge to defend people like Remus (and Monroe) that try to accept their nature but not succumb to the wilder aspects of it.

"I never expected something like this..." he trailed of, shaking his head, a brooding expression weighing his face down for a moment. "I'm glad I have a knowledgeable guide," he said and smiled at Nick again, turning it (to a lesser degree) onto Monroe when the man came back in the room. He'd been just as helpful, if not more so since Nick was apparently still learning about Wesen.

"Sure thing, man," Monroe said, nodding. He made a mental note, watching the other two men interact. He looked at one of the many clocks in his house and clicked his tongue. "It's getting late, you guys staying for dinner?" he asked. He knew Nick would but he looked mostly at Harry, extending the invitation. Now that he was sure Harry didn't intend to kill him (or zap him into a newt), he liked the guy. He was funny, in a dry British way, when he wasn't in cop-mode.

Harry sat up and clutched his notebook tightly. "Uhm... I don't want to impose..." he said, fighting the urge to immediately accept but trying to be rational. It seemed like a genuine invitation but he still felt a bit awkward. He didn't really know either of these men but he felt comfortable around them, especially now that he wasn't looking at Monroe as a murder suspect. He tried to squash the sophomoric urge to spend more time around Nick, too. It was quite embarrassing; he just met the man.

"No way, man. I wouldn't ask if it were a problem," Monroe said smiling gently. "I make a mean vegetarian chili," he sing-songed, trying to tempt the wizard. Wizard, he mused with a mental giggle. He nearly burst something to keep himself from asking to see if Harry would show him his wand, realizing it would sound a bit perverted or maybe it might be rude to ask. He got a feeling you didn't go around asking people—er, wizards—such a thing. Maybe he'll offer later... or he could make Nick ask. He quietly snorted a chuckle at the thought of Nick asking to see Harry's wand. He wondered who would blush harder.

Harry looked between Nick and Monroe, both wearing expectant expressions. "Sure, that'd be nice. Thank you," he accepted with a small smile. He didn't expect a vegetarian Blutbad, learning they were the Wesen equivalent of a werewolf, and it was intriguing as well as a bit funny. Even after knowing the man was 'retired' in a sense. Or Wieder Wesen as Monroe had explained when he first mentioned his status as a non-violent Blutbad.

"Excellent!" Monroe nodded and got up, heading into the kitchen. A few minutes later, the muted sounds of him starting dinner reached the living room.

Harry settled back, feeling slightly awkward. He should be sorting out a hotel or something, not sitting down to dinner with a Blutbad and a Grimm. He nearly rolled his eyes; he got himself into the most bizarre situations. He looked over when Nick shifted on the sofa, giving him an odd look. He hummed softly in acknowledgement.

"Why was Monroe's name on your list? He wouldn't be involved in this."

Harry nodded and scratched his head absently. "I know he wouldn't be." Well, he knew that now, after speaking with the man. "I don't know why, honestly. There were quite a few names. We raided a hide-out but they'd already fled. We found a few notes, maps and disturbingly graphic photos," he said quietly and shuddered. Most of the photos were drawn, more like doodles or plans, but some were actual moving photos. Though, nothing moved in them.

"We figured they were compiling a list of possible accomplices." He looked towards the kitchen and sighed. "He's either going to be approached or he's already been dismissed as a possibility if they're aware of his... retired status."

"I see," Nick said and rubbed his eyes. "Should I let him know?"

"I would, yeah," Harry said. In either case, Monroe was probably at risk. He didn't know the man well but he feared for his safety. He liked him already and it was hard not to see Remus when he looked at the Blutbad.

Nick studied Harry for a moment and lowered his voice. "How dangerous are these Death Eaters?" It seemed stupid to ask; he saw the pictures. He was mostly asking for more information and he really hoped Harry would share. He and Monroe were involved now and he didn't at all like the idea of going in uninformed.

"You saw the pictures, Nick. They're capable of that and much, much worse. These are Dark Wizards. They use their magic in evil, terrible ways. For evil, terrible purposes," Harry said seriously, keeping his own voice quiet. He didn't know how well a Blutbad could hear, but if it was anywhere near as keen as Remus', they'd have to leave the house to not be heard but he indulged Nick. Mostly, he didn't want to hide information from Monroe. He was in this as much as he and Nick. He swallowed thickly and studied his lap. He felt he owed the man the truth, as much as he didn't want to admit it aloud. "I killed their leader once and if I find the new one, I'll do it again."

Nick studied Harry again, trying to see him as a killer and it was at once impossible and hard to deny. He radiated a strong aura but he was so... small. Short, skinny. You wouldn't think he could do much but give you a slight sting should he hit you. He felt a sense of deep regret and shame radiating off the wizard and he couldn't help humming softly in understanding, having a very good idea how the man felt. He had to kill on occasion and he never got used to it, no matter how justified it was.

"Alright," he said quietly. He tried to give a reassuring smile when Harry peeked up at him, gauging his true reaction. He didn't know what else to say, though. He struggled for reassuring words. 'Hey, we all murder a bad guy now and then' just sounded... insufficient. "Do you know who it is?" he asked instead.

"Not yet," Harry said, his voice tight with anger and frustration. For every Death Eater they captured, none of the bastards would talk. Torture wasn't Ministry approved, not that many Aurors had the stomach or thirst for it. Threats didn't work; they'd just laugh and not utter a single word. Veritaserum didn't work, either; whenever they'd administer the potion, the prisoner went into seizure like spasms and be dead in seconds. None of them really mourned the loss but they never got answers, either. It was frustrating. "I have my suspicions, but without proof I can't do much."

Nick nodded. He knew that hell very well. It was one of the perks of being a Grimm; he was the top. As long as he worked inside the law, he didn't have to answer to anyone else. "Captain Renard... he can help with this too," he said meaningfully. He saw Harry nod slowly, understanding.

"Who else is in on your... secret?" Harry asked, intrigued.

Nick sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "My partner, Hank. My ex, but she ran as far and as fast as she could from all of this," he said stiffly, trying to ignore and bury the brief pang of regret, anger and pain. "Monroe's girlfriend, Rosalee. She helps me a lot, too."

"Are any of them... Wesen?" Harry asked, mostly just out of curiosity. He didn't have any real problem working with them. It was really the only way to keep himself from asking about Nick's runaway ex. It was obviously still rather painful for him. He subtly sat on his hand so it wouldn't reach out on its own.

Nick fought the urge to chew the inside of his cheek and nodded. "Captain Renard... he's... complicated. Rosalee is, too. She's a Fuchsbau," he tried not to smile when Harry's notebook came back out, only seeing a head of messy black hair and hearing the furious scratch of a pen again. "A Fuchsbau is a sort of fox-like Wesen," he explained, watching as Harry made notes. He smiled at the fox doodle at the bottom of the page.

"That explains the strange code we found next to the names," Harry murmured before looking up, a flicker of excitement going through his expression. At Nick's confused look, he sat forward. "Next to each name, there were seemingly random symbols. We only were able to figure out the symbols were coded letters. Monroe had a 'B'."

Nick's eyebrows rose in understanding. "Was Rosalee on your list?"

"Yeah," Harry said softly. He didn't really have to check it anymore, he memorized that list by now. "I remembered seeing an 'F' next to her name and that's when everything clicked into place. I'm sorry," he added, noticing Nick's crestfallen expression. He looked up, not at all surprised when Monroe came in the room, his eyes darting between him and Nick as he wiped his hands on a dishtowel. "I would tell her, as well," he said to the Blutbad, not at all surprised to see him looking concerned.

Monroe nodded, impressed and grateful Harry didn't try to exclude him, leaving the room again as he pulled his phone from his pocket. "I'm calling her now. She's joining us for dinner." He didn't care about secret Grimm or magic shit, he wanted Rosalee here where he knew she'd be safe. He didn't see the nasty pictures and only got a vague idea what Harry was involved in, but if it made Nick wince, it had to be bad.

"I'm sorry," Harry said again, covering his face with his hands for a second and giving Nick a sincere look of apology. "I really wish you lot weren't involved in all this."

Nick waved a hand, shrugging one shoulder and giving a small smile. "It's not exactly a rare occurrence," he said, trying to make light. "Really," he stressed, bumping his shoulder into Harry's when the wizard only gave him a miserable look. "I'm a Grimm, I deal with this sort of thing almost daily. They aren't strangers to this sort of thing, either."

"Not Dark Wizards," Harry muttered.

Nick made a tsking sound and shook his head. "Well, no," he said slowly, agreeing. "But they aren't exactly innocent either. Like I said, they've helped me in the past. A lot. I don't like involving them but they're able to handle themselves."

"Still..." Harry said, staring off. He hated involving civilians in a case, especially if it could be avoided. He could agree that there wasn't really a choice with this one, he needed all of their help. What Nick didn't know about Wesen, Monroe did. Rosalee was already involved because her name was on the damn list. He tried not to shy away when Nick scooted closer. Obviously the man wasn't trying to do anything untoward. He looked up when Monroe came in the room.

Monroe stared at the Detectives for a moment. "Uh, dinner's done but I-" He paused and walked over to the door just as someone knocked on it. "Hey, Rosalee," he said with a smile once the door was open. "Just in time." He pulled her into a brief, tight hug.

Harry watched as a young woman walked in, smiling warmly at Monroe as she walked past. She probably was an inch or so taller than him, soft brown hair was pulled back from a heart shaped, kind face. He blinked when her smile didn't dim in the least when she looked at him. He looked at Monroe, wondering if the man had forgotten to mention who, and what, he was. "Hullo," he said, nodding politely.

"Hi," Rosalee said and walked over. A hint of wariness tightened her posture slightly but she didn't woge, quelling the urge with a deep breath. "You're Harry, right?" Harry nodded and she stuck her hand out. "Rosalee," she said.

He wasn't nearly as scary as a Grimm but there was still something about him that made her want to back up and her teeth itch. She wasn't nearly as excited about the man being a wizard as Monroe appeared to be. He was nice, though—and cute. Didn't try to intimidate her or whip out a wand to turn her into a frog or something so she relaxed as best she could. She tried not to sigh with relief when Monroe announced dinner and made her way into the kitchen.

"So, you're here for a case?" she asked Harry, sliding into a chair and giving a smile of thanks when Monroe filled her wine glass. She tried not to glug it, her heart-rate and nerves still settling.

"Yeah," Harry said, fidgeting slightly with indecision. He didn't know where to sit. He waited until everyone else sat and took the remaining chair next to Nick. "I, uhm, followed a lead here. Oh, no thanks," he said when Monroe went to pour him wine as well. He pulled a small, half filled, potion vial from his pocket and gave a sheepish smile. "Alcohol doesn't mix well with this," he said and wiggled the vial a bit. The liquid was the consistency of maple syrup, a pretty shade of light green and had an iridescent sheen to it. He was grateful it didn't taste horrendous, like most potions did. It almost seemed like some sort of requirement to make the most essential potions the vilest.

Rosalee eyed the vial with interest. "Is that a potion?" Harry nodded. "What's it for?" she asked. She nearly retracted her question, an apology on the tip of her tongue, when Harry looked uncomfortable.

"It's partly for healing and partly what would be equivalent to an antibiotic." He tipped three drops into his water, trying to ignore three very interested sets of eyes on him, and emptied the glass in four, long gulps. He tried not to fidget as his knee tingled with sudden heat for a few seconds as the potion kicked in. He probably would never get used to that sensation...

"Thank you," he said quietly when Monroe was the first to stop staring and dished him a healthy portion of chili. He inhaled the spicy steam coming off of the food and his eyes drifted closed in pleasure. "Smells amazing," he complimented and smiled.

(A/N: OK, here's the key. Again, I got it from the Grimm Wiki, so it's more accurate than anything I'd pull outta my head. Heh. Feel free to ask any questions or hunt around the fun world of Grimm Wiki on your own. If any Grimm fans need some insight on the Harry Potter lingo, just ask and I'll be happy to add those in, too.

Grimms are several families of special people, warriors and hunters, who possess incredible powers, such as being able to see the true form of Wesen even when the Wesen don't want them to. For centuries they have placed it upon themselves to police and hunt the Wesen population, to protect normal humans from the unknown threat around them.

Wesen (pronunciation: VAY-zin, Grimm: VES-sin; Germ. "a being", here "creature") is a term used to describe the creatures visible to the Grimms. They are the basis not only of the fairy tales that the Brothers Grimm have compiled, but also of the many legends and folklore from many cultures. Wesen are liminal, that is, they display two states of existence simultaneous within one physical body. Physiologically, Wesen are parahuman, exhibiting two distinct sets of DNA within the same system. When in human form, Wesen are, by all accounts, physiologically that way and thus can pass as human.

Woge (VOH-gə; derived from the German verb wogen "to surge"), named from the psychological impulse that drives it, refers to the act of changing between human and Wesen form. As Woge is impulse-driven, a dead Wesen will woge back (or "retract") into human form. Likewise, a Wesen tends to enter Woge once they perceive something as a threat come close to their vicinity.

Blutbad (plural: Balustrade; pronunciation: BLOOT-baat, BLOOT-baad in Grimm; Germ. Blut "blood" + Bad "bath") is a wolf-like Wesen that is basis of the fairy tale character of the Big Bad Wolf. They are among the more prolific races of Wesen in the show.

Dämonfeuer ('alternate spelling Daemonfeuer; pl. Dämonfeuer; DAY-mon-foy-ər (Grimm: DAY-muhn-fyoo-ər); Germ. Dämon "demon" + Feuer "fire") is a dragon-like creature able to breathe fire and are among the rarer species of Wesen. They are renowned as dangerous and powerful, so much so that even Blutbaden fear them. They are also one of a very small number of Wesen who don't fear Grimms, nor do they seem to despise them.

Fuchsbau (pronunciation: FOOKHS-bow, Grimm: FOOKS-bow; Germ. "fox hole" or "burrow") is a fox-like Wesen known for being extremely sly and cunning.

Mauzhertz (pronunciation: MOWTS-hairts, Grimm: MOWZ-hurts; Germ. Maus "mouse" + Herz "heart") is a mouse-like Wesen that are harmless and shy.)