When Dumbledore entered into negotiations with a known element of organised muggle crime, Harry had been suspicious. When marriage was put on the table, he was annoyed but not surprised. Determined to investigate the situation, he finds himself pleasantly surprised for once. Tsuna/Harry, arranged marriage trope – with a twist.
THIS IS ALL REIGHOST'S FAULT GOD DAMNIT
Chapter One
He wondered what it said about his prior experiences, when the idea of Dumbledore making a fucking arranged marriage between himself and the heir of an Italian Mafia syndicate in exchange for aid against Voldemort didn't garner more of a reaction beyond a raised eyebrow, a headache, and a quiet, but entirely heartfelt curse of “are you fucking serious?”.
It also said something when the only response from his friends were equally dull-eyed and unimpressed “Yeah.”s, before they slammed a large bottle of Firewhiskey on the table and conjured several glasses.
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes as the twins handed out the conjured tumblers filled with shots of gently steaming alcohol in the middle of the cleaned up Black Library. Already beginning to feel the onset of a stress-migraine beginning to form, a not unfamiliar sensation given the amount of utter bullshit he had been putting up with from both Dumbledore, Voldemort, and the Ministry in the last two years since the incident in the Ministry Atrium where he went from little baby Boy Who Lived, to a fully fledged and fucking Coroneted Lord in front of the Order, Dumbledore, Voldemort, Bellatrix, Fudge, and who fucking knew who else. And of course, when he popped, so did his nearest and dearest, all of whom becoming his Knights, or so the information texts (and the Press) declared.
Dumbledore had swooped in and almost immediately attempted to snuff him out, declaring that his power was a threat, that clearly it was related to the shard that Voldemort left in him – only to have a Ministry UNSPEAKABLE immediately correct him in deeply unimpressed tones.
Harry Potter was a Lord, and not in the hereditary title manner, no. He was a Lord as so dictated by magic, the amber Soul Shade he had taken such pains to hide in his third year during Divination had only proved it when it burst into flaming brilliance around him during that confrontation with Voldemort when the Dark Lord attempted to possess him. If Harry so desired, with the Lord's Aspect, he could very well simply take over the Ministry of Magic, and there was nothing legally stopping him, in fact, there were many Laws actively encouraging a Lord to take the Minister post. Which of course put Fudge's back up, and he was immediately siding with Dumbledore in advocating for Harry's suppression. They couldn't allow the will of the British public to be ignored simply because of some funny coloured wandless fire. But then Dumbledore changed his mind. He decided to mentor Harry much more officially, closely. The elderly wizard, whom Harry was beginning to suspect may have had an Apparent Amber Aspect, took him 'under his wing' as his apprentice in all things magical, and political. At least to the public eye.
In reality, he may as well have attempted to leash and muzzle him, force him into a mould and break his every bone to fit it as he desired.
Not that it worked.
Harry wasn't purely an Amber Aspect Lord, he was just as strong an Amethyst Aspect as he was an Amber, and they were nothing if not determined to maintain their freedom. With him stood his Knights, Hermione in crackling Emerald, Ginny and Ron sharing seething Ruby, Fred and George with obscuring Dark Sapphire, and Luna floating distantly as his Amethyst. All he lacked was a Topaz and a Turquoise Knight, both of which Dumbledore had already attempted to slide his own supporters in, not realising that by its very definition of being a Knight to a Lord, such a thing was impossible.
He had spent the last two years since his Coronation fending off fools attempting to gain his favour, Dumbledore's machinations, Voldemort's increasing violence, the Ministry's interference, and the intrusions of the press while furthering his own education in both magical and flame-based disciplines. Thank Merlin for the forethought of Felis and Demeter Black, the founders of the family, who had ensured there would always be a means to teach their flame using descendants even if all knowledge of the art was wiped from the family archives (which it was).
“So. Who is this person?” he asked dully pressing the tumbler of whiskey to his temple as he watched his Knights through lidded eyes.
Fred chugged what was in his glass, “The current Heir of the Vongola Famiglia,” he announced idly as he swung his empty tumbler from his fingertips. The red head was sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor, his twin sprawled lazily on the back of the lounger that Ginny was reclining on, legs crossed, Luna curled up cat-like using her lap as a pillow. Opposite them, Hermione was sat in one of the armchairs, a levitating lectern in front of her with a large leather-bound tome from the sub-basements in front of her, and Ron sat on the arm of the chair, one foot braced on the coffee table in front of him at Harry's left.
“The Vongola? Wasn't that Grandfather Felis' favourite family?” Ginny asked with a frown, peering down at her half empty glass with a wrinkled nose. She was more of a vodka girl. At sixteen many would say she shouldn't be drinking, but she had already been forced to kill men thrice her age in self-defence, as far as she was concerned she should be allowed to do as she fucking pleased.
Harry sighed, “Favourite one to frustrate,” he corrected.
Luna chuckled, “Aren't we all related to the Vongola though?” she asked slyly, prompting grimaces from all present.
“You may be. Me, not so much,” Hermione teased as she sipped her whiskey, “I'm muggleborn.”
It was a source of much hilarity to the flame using portraiture within the Black house that the founder of their line had been responsible for terrorising the Vongola Primo out of Europe when the blond insisted on trying to marry his daughter, Vega Black, after a somewhat drunken rendezvous at a party that left the young woman pregnant with his child. He had asked her, but received nothing but laughter directly at his face from the young lady in question. Vega had been just as much of an Amethyst as she had been an Amber, and refused to be tied down by anything as mundane as marriage vows or the duties of womanhood in that day and age. When the Primo insisted, she refused to hear from him again, and her male relatives took him to task for badgering her. When faced with three very powerful and displeased Amethysts who had been trained extensively in assassination (though took to using their skills in theft), the Primo fled to the otherside of the world and did not seek to bother her again, though supposedly he sent letters often. None of them ever reached Vega for whatever reason.
“Eurgh, incest,” Harry complained.
“Hah, Harry, if you call that incest, what would you call us? We're more closely related than you would be to this guy, it's been ten generations!” Ginny pointed out with a cackle, reminding him of their short, somewhat disastrous relationship the previous year, and of the fact that his grandmother was a Black, while both of Ginny's parents had ties to the Black family.
He squeezed his eyes shut and tossed back the glass of whiskey, “Please don't remind me,” he croaked, fire spilling from his lips as he spoke.
Snickers went up amongst the assembled teenagers before they all lapsed into slightly awkward, sullen, silence.
“Anything else?” Ron prompted, peering over at his brothers as Hermione banished her book back to a shelf, and summoned another one to replace it.
“He's a fully Coronated Lord, like Harry. He's got a full Court too according to the old geezer's bragging. Last of the line, direct descendent of the Primo unlike old man Ninth. Apparently when Felis, Castor, and Pollux drove Primo outta the country, he handed the reigns over to his cousin Ricardo and got hitched out in the motherland. That's where the current line descends from. Japanese, son of the current head of CEDEF, the Young Lion. Though he's getting on in years now,” George answered from behind Ginny using a conjured straw to dribble lengths of whiskey into his mouth, and then blow smoke-rings out to the ceiling.
Hermione's nose wrinkled, “The Ninth had four children. We know three are dead. What about the forth?” she asked suspiciously.
“Proven to be adopted. He ain't blood related, or at least closely enough to count despite practically being Ricardo's reincarnation,” Fred explained as he refilled their glasses. “Supposedly the entire Tenth Court are reincarnations of the First.” He shot a grin at Harry, “Convenient that they're talking of hitching you two together when you're practically Vega's reincarnation. Just with smaller balls.”
Harry treated him to the same unimpressed expression he usually gave Dumbledore when the man tried to shove another one of his loyalists into his Court. “Try to remember how high a proof Firewhiskey is, and then remember how few qualms I have lighting things on fire, Fred,” he warned without heat. The red head pretended to quail, drawing snorts of amusement from the others present. They all knew that Harry was all bark and no bite when it came to them, he let them literally get away with murder on more than one occasion.
“The only reason his are smaller is because hers were so big they had to be put on her chest to avoid chafing,” Ginny declared proudly with a grin as snorts and giggles went up in the room again, “Seriously, seducing the Primo and running away with one of the most valuable bloodlines in Italy. She had brass ones.”
“It wasn't valuable yet,” Hermione corrected with a sniff, “He was just some upstart with power back then, don't forget.”
“He's still just an upstart with power,” Harry huffed, tipping his head back against his chair. “They all are,” he complained half-heartedly before making a sound of disgust, “Tch, arranged marriage....” he grumbled in mixed disbelief and annoyance. “It sounds like something out of one of Lavender's Selwyn novels.”
“You ever read one? They're not bad,” Ginny suggested as she peered down at Luna, she huffed a small smile, “Sleeping like a baby,” the red head complained fondly, stroking her fingers through blonde hair.
“Me, read a romance novel? You do remember what I was like when we were dating. Are those the actions of a man familiar with romance?” Harry asked mirthfully, grinning at her from behind his glass as laughter went up amongst his Knights.
“Fair point,” she said. “But you had your moments. You can be incredibly sweet sometimes, but so boneheaded otherwise.”
Harry flicked a colour changing charm at her, “Like you were any better.”
“I,” Ginny declared haughtily as she casually deflected the charm and returned fire with an itching hex, “was the very picture of romance, ladyship, and – ”
Harry batted the hex aside, “You tripped on the hem of your robe and swore hard enough that you literally charmed the air blue, and then set me on fire for trying to help you up because, and I quote, 'Harry bloody Potter, I am perfectly fucking capable of standing on my own two bloody legs, fuck off'.”
“Yes,” she agreed, sniffing delicately, “The picture of ladyship.”
“Well if that's the example I have to work off on this marriage, I can't see how it could ever go wrong,” he lamented sarcastically as he propped his head up on his palm and grinned at her.
Ginny grinned at him, “Stick with me Harry, you'll be a real Gryffindor Lady in no time. Our next lesson will be smuggling alcohol in your bra, and knives in your garters.”
“That would actually be useful,” Hermione decided from behind her book as she leafed through a small handful of pages, clearly looking for something. “May I join in? I promise to add hair-taming lessons to the study group. Harry could do with knowing a few,” she added with a smirk as she peered over the top of her book at him.
“We can teach ickle Harrikins to smile all pretty and poison his drinks?” Fred and George chimed in helpfully.
“Uh,” Ron offered before looking at their Lord desperately, “....punch him on the nose?” he suggested.
Harry burst out laughing, and the others counted it a win. Though his face, voice, and body language never gave it away, they could feel his Amethyst Aspect roiling with agitation inside him. The idea that he was a possession to be bartered away at the whims of a Lord Apparent, and then kept like a pet or a plaything by a criminal.... Very few relationships between Lords were benign or supportive, Felis had near enough hit the roof with rage when he realised that while to the world at large Dumbledore played the mentor, behind closed doors, tried to systematically destroy his daughter's only Amber Aspected descendant. To be fair, he probably had no idea he was actually doing so. The old man was not educated in Aspects and Courts, and the wizarding world had so much misinformation on the ancient practice because so very few magic users ever ended up reaching for their Aspects instead of their magic. While consciously the Headmaster probably believed himself to be doing his best to help, Felis had told them in no uncertain terms that even though the man was only Apparent, he was still a Lord to some degree, and thus was trying to kill off the competition for his local area. Only a Core Druid could share the same territory as a Lord without the instinctive need to kill each other.
As of right now, their little slice of the world was in the middle of a three-way Court Battle between Voldemort, Dumbledore, and Harry. Not that the latter of the three was even interested. This wasn't his territory, and he had no interest in changing that fact.
The people however, were a different story. Harry may have been the youngest of the Lords currently fighting, but he was the only Crowned one. Meaning that his Aspect had greater influence over the territory, and the people in it. Being that he also had a strong Amethyst Aspect, that also leaked through and affected the citizens. Before his Coronation, Harry would have assumed the people of Wizarding Britain would have hidden from the conflict, gone on the run, put their heads down, tried to act as though it weren't happening. Now though, with his Aspects influencing them, things had.... not gone that way. The way that both Dumbledore and Voldemort had anticipated as Lords Apparent. The people fought back. They wanted their freedom, and they weren't about to just let these crumbling old powers, stunted and faded, lesser, rule over them when they had something better. Harry.
The day one young man in particular dumped the corpse of an unknown Death Eater at Harry's feet in the middle of Hogsmeade was one that no one would be forgetting any time soon. If the man had a tail, it would have been wagging hard enough to kick up the snow-drifts behind him as he beamed up at Harry's stunned facial expression.
Back then there had only been a minor Auror presence in Hogsmeade, before the first of the attacks, and Harry had panicked when he realised the patrol was literally around the corner. Ginny was his hero that day. She stepped forwards, shoved the idiot back, and then immolated the corpse with her Ruby Aspect before telling him to get lost and never bring such trash in front of her Lord again. Thankfully he never did. In fact, Harry never saw that man ever again.
“....Did you get anything else about this guy?” he asked looking at the twins once he had his laughing under control, shooting Ginny a look when she opened her mouth. “We're not going to poison, or punch him, or stab him.” The red head shrugged a shoulder and settled back to continue playing with Luna's hair. Harry shook his head smiling.
“Not much. He's a good fighter, they all are according to word. A hard worker, but that's about it,” Fred explained with a slightly frustrated shrug. At nineteen, he was used to being able to get what information he wanted, when he wanted. Being denied as a follower of the Marauders was frustrating.
He drained the last of his whiskey and vanished the glass, “Then we'll just have to investigate him ourselves,” he declared, pushing to his feet. “Hermione, think you can get into CEDEF and look up everything on their Young Lion? Fred, George, you two see if you can get more information out of the Ninth and Dumbledore about this. Ron, you stick with Hermione, help her avoid their security. Ginny, you stick with the twins, keep them out of trouble, and if a fight kicks off, you know how to handle it. Loulou, you're with me, we're going to book a Portkey to Japan,” he said to the sleeping Amethyst who hummed and turned to bury her face into Ginny's stomach.
“M'always w'you,” she assured him softly.
000
Seven tickets to Japan did not come cheaply, nor was it possible to even get those tickets in England without half the Portkey registration office either reporting it to the Prophet, Voldemort, or Dumbledore. They employed a particularly sneaky loophole that – well, they all intensely regretted but needed to use.
They took one of Vega's portkeys from the Lightning House (Grimmauld Place), to the Storm Estate in China.
Harry needed the rest of the day to recover as he spent the majority of it vomiting and cramping, curled up in a miserable ball in the musty smelling bed that Hermione hastily spelled clean. Luna and Ginny remained with him, making sure he didn't choke on his own vomit, occasionally getting him to drink some water – though it would inevitably come back up eventually. It it was less painful to vomit water than nothing at all. Ron, Hermione, and the twins went to the Chinese Ministry in order to get them a portkey to Japan's magic quarter at less than a tenth of the price it would have been to get from England to Japan.
They garnered a little unpleasant attention outside the magic quarter, a group of rough looking men with tattoos and missing fingers attempted to make a grab at Hermione while Ron was trying to get the twins away from a traditional medicine store. But the Emerald was hardly the same girl she had been at fifteen, and with the hardening and magnetic capabilities of her Knighted Aspect she quite handily laid the three men out in short order. The twins looked down and started giggling when they saw the men sprawled out on the ground and hurried over while Ron folded his arms and looked amused as his girlfriend leaned into him with a pissy scowl in place. Between the two of them, the twins made sure the three Triad members wouldn't remember their faces. Just that they had been stupid enough to attempt abducting a fairly powerful 'Lightning Guardian' while she was on an errand for her 'Sky', and unceremoniously had their asses beaten down for it. And a good thing too, because she hadn't been alone. A 'Storm Guardian', and a pair of 'Mist Guardians' had accompanied her, and it was only their determination to return to their 'Sky' in a timely fashion that prevented them from pursuing the matter with their Chapter Head.
Evidentially, they had 'flames' of their own, but weren't trained, or sensitive, in detecting the bonds or strengths of other 'flame' users. They had just seen Hermione as a foreign female with 'lightning flames', and sought to snatch her up for their Triad group and earn a bounty, perhaps a woman, in exchange. Their bad luck.
“Did you kill them?” Ginny asked from where she was sprawled out on her back against the pillows, Harry dosing lightly against her shoulder looking absolutely ghastly, with Luna wrapped around his spine sleeping soundly.
Hermione shook her head looking scandalised, “No!” she said loudly before looking at Harry and lowering her voice, “I did not kill them. That's more attention than we need or want right now. Here, your tickets. Our object of interest is a broken shopping trolley, it should be behind the public restrooms at the park down the road,” she said handing over three pink tickets with gold lining and a large black stamp inked over them.
“Shopping trolley, huh?” Ginny asked, eyeing her ticket before tucking into the front cover of her book at setting it on the bedside table. “Should be big enough for all of us, anyone else joining in on the cross country trip?” she asked, they didn't have the finances for a private portkey, so given the size of the key there might very well be more than just the seven of them taking it.
Hermione shook her head, “Relations between China and Japan aren't the best, not that they ever have been. But we should be alone for the trip, there was no one else on the list.”
Which was a damn good thing, they didn't know how famous Harry was outside of Europe, but undoubtedly as the only Crowned Lord in magical England, as well as the only survivor of the Avada Kedavra curse, he would have a level of fame the world over. Whether that was household, or school, none of them were sure, or overly willing to risk when they were out of the country without permission, or guards.
That night they enlarged the bed, and all slept in a pile together. Breakfast was a simple affair of granola bars and yogurt that Ron had picked up from a convenience store on their way back from the Ministry, and then they were off, leaving the Estate and its cheerful portraits and heading towards the park chattering about this 'Tsunayoshi Sawada'.
“Literally no one has anything negative to say about him, that's suspicious in of itself,” Ron complained as they walked, “No one is that perfect! Hell, people have negative things to say about Harry all the time!”
“That's because he's a massive berk,” Ginny pointed out, laughing at their Lord's offended 'oi' from Luna's side. “But we love him anyway,” she continued (“That's better,” the Gryffindor said, sufficiently mollified). “So, chances are information on this Tsunayoshi Sawada is compromised?” the red haired girl asked looking sceptically at her brothers.
Fred huffed, looking insulted while George wrinkled his nose and shrugged, “It's possible. I mean, we're good at what we do, but the Vongola have a much higher level of experience dealing with espionage. What information we found could have been doctored, and we might be walking into a trap for enemies of the family. In which case, we're all in deep shit when word gets back to the Order,” George complained.
“Mom'll bring us back to life just to kill us herself,” Fred added with a theatrical shudder.
“And if it isn't, and this guy is actually there?” Ron asked looking at them.
“Then we see what kind of person he is for ourselves,” Hermione declared primly, “We form our own opinions.”
“And if we don't like what we see? What then? You know the Order are going to push for this as hard as they can,” Ginny pointed out with an angry grimace.
“We start watching Harrykins' drinks a lot more carefully, that's for sure,” Fred growled as he folded his arms. A year ago, Hermione would have gasped and immediately rushed to Dumbledore's defence, exclaiming that he would never do such a thing as dosing Harry with potions. Now though, they knew where the lines had been drawn, and they had chosen where they stood. Even the fact that the option existed was enough for them to take the risk seriously.
“If we don't like what we see,” Harry said seriously, drawing their attention, “Then I'll refuse this arranged marriage in as public a location as possible. I'll need your help with that, Fred, George. The bigger the scene we make, the more chance it'll hit the right ears, and then it'll be impossible for Dumbledore to try the force route. Diagon would be good.” He rubbed his chin as they crossed the park, “Everyone knows you're part of the Order, and they know the Weasleys never held with that kind of political manoeuvring. We play it like you found out during a meeting, overheard someone or whatever, and immediately set up a meeting to tell me. Give me time to escape or something. I blow my shit in the middle of a public location, people will go sprinting for the Prophet and Ministry alike. That'll effectively close the door on the Vongola's efforts to get a foot in with us, and it'll mean the Ministry will tie up Dumbledore's attention long enough for us to handle Voldemort ourselves.”
“Have we got all his Shards?” George asked curiously, the twins having been too busy keeping the Order out of their business and handling the WWW while smuggling muggleborn to safe locations to be involved with the rest of the Court's activities in handling their resident psychopath.
“All that remains is Nagini,” Hermione told them.
Fred whistled, “So, you lot actually managed to break into Gringotts and out again without anyone noticing?”
“Just Harry,” Luna said dreamily as she hung off his arm, “Felis taught him the shadows well.”
“Right. Quickly now, everyone got your tickets? We've got twenty seconds,” Hermione called as she sped up, the others following suit and immediately picking up their pace as they rounded the side of the restroom and saw the upside down shopping trolley shoved against the wall.
Everyone grabbed onto the mesh, and not a moment too soon. Harry grimaced as he felt a hook lodge itself in his stomach, and the world yank out from beneath his feet.
They vanished.
And a bare few seconds after they did, a red eyed child peered out from behind the corner curiously, only to double take when he saw no one there.
After the incident yesterday where a few of his younger brothers attacked a visiting Lightning Guardian, his Triad had been on the look out specifically for foreign teenagers in the hopes of either apologising, or stealing the lot if they proved weak enough. He had no such intentions but the taste of such powerful Sky Flame had his interest regardless, and then they mentioned both Tsunayoshi and the Vongola they earned his attention.
Fon wondered if Reborn was aware Timoteo planned to marry his student off.
Perhaps he should pay a visit to Japan, if only to watch the fireworks kick off when word finally reached the Tenth Generation.
It should be most entertaining.
000
It was only the extensive training he undertook with Felis in the sub-basements that prevented him from landing on his ass the second the portkey slammed them onto the ground. He still wanted to vomit though.
Masterfully, he swallowed his gag reflex back, and breathed deeply and slowly, holding his breath on more than one occasion as he waited for his stomach to stop turning. Luna hummed softly, a warm weight at his side, her hand rubbing soothing circles across his back as Ginny started bickering with Ron in order to cover for him, the two easily falling into the roles of fractious siblings so he could settle himself without anyone paying too much attention to him. He loved his Knights dearly.
“That's enough, let's get moving and find a hotel,” he said quietly, immediately getting the group of them moving, the siblings continuing their bickering with the twins eagerly egging them on every now and again with sly comments.
Magical Tokyo's portkey station looked like a train station instead of a strange public bathroom like England's. Instead of small personal 'toilet stalls' for each designated landing point, the stone room stood impossibly tall and filled with stained glass windows, the various coloured lights streaming through lighting up sections of the large grey room to indicate landing points. As they moved past towering stone pillars overgrown with moss, the path out into the magic quarter was littered with small, moss covered, statuettes of squat little monsters and bald headed men. It was fairly busy, but no one paid them any particular attention beyond glancing to Ginny and Ron's argument and quickly turning their attention else where in thin-lipped disapproval.
The magic quarter certainly looked very traditional in terms of Japanese culture, enough so that Hermione wondered if perhaps they had landed in the Kyoto magical district by accident. Moss and rock gave way to concrete and steel in short order as they stepped into a modern looking building at the end of the long street, and then left the magic quarter entirely through a set of electric doors into a small lobby with a second set of sliding doors, and wall to wall windows showing the outside world of muggle Tokyo.
“Welcome to Shibuya, I hope you have a wonderful stay!” a woman in a neat uniform with a dimpled smile announced, presenting them with a bag in both hands as she bowed. Hermione accepted it with a grateful bow in return, and the group moved on, distantly Harry could hear her repeating her welcome to a second group of people, and then repeating herself in a language he wasn't familiar with, but sounded a little like what little he heard between Pavarti and Padma when they didn't want anyone to know what they were talking about.
“Language Lozenges,” Hermione explained, handing out a single walnut sized cherry red hard sweet that looked rather like a cough drop. “They'll teach you the language you hear most while sucking on them. Shouldn't take more than a few hours to be completely fluent if we only hear the one language,” she explained as she popped one into her mouth and tucked the rest into a pocket. “Tell me when yours dissolves, I'll give you another.”
The group made their way to the nearest train station and carefully stumbled their way through the ticket machine in order to get to Namimori Prefecture, supposedly where this Sawada lived. They sat in the train, listening to the whispered conversations of business men and woman, and then later school children on their way home, absorbing as much as they could before they got off at Namimori Shrine. They hadn't learned much in that time, apparently it was a cultural faux pas to be noisy on the train so they were only semi-fluent as they wondered around, sucking on the last of the lozenges.
“So. He's about our age. So that means he would be in Highschool, right?” Ron asked, peering over at Hermione who nodded.
“Second or third year Highschool, preparing for University entrance exams unless the Vongola intend to pull him out to Italy,” she explained as she rummaged a folder from her purse. “We're looking for.... Japanese male, five and a half feet, so a little taller than Harry, brown hair, brown eyes, pale skinned. Supposedly has semi-androgynous facial features. Likely to be accompanied by a half-Italian half-Japanese silver haired male, about six foot in height, with green eyes and a rather punk-rock aesthetic; a dark haired Japanese boy about Ron's height with brown eyes and tanned skin, supposedly a baseball fan; a short white haired Japanese teenager with brown eyes, a boxer, so he should be fairly muscular, about as tall as the twins; a trio of girls about Ginny's height, one light brown haired girl, one dark brown haired girl, and a one-eyed girl with purple hair. There's also a high chance of multiple children, two boys and a girl, being within the vicinity,” she listed as she flipped through her notes of stolen information that the twins had compiled along with her own efforts to break into the CEDEF.
“How convenient,” Ginny said dryly, before pointing down the road, “Would that be them, I wonder?” she asked pointing to a very noisy group in the distance.
Harry eyed the general chaos happening amongst them. Well. For all that they were apparently mobsters and criminals about to take over one of the most blood-soaked criminal empires in the world, they certainly acted like normal teenagers. If one ignored the guns the child in the hat waved around, the grenades the little boy with the curly black hair was waving around, and the sword the tall black haired boy had over his shoulder.
Which one was Sawada?
Must have been the brunet attempting to wrestle grenades off the curly haired boy.
He watched lazily, prepared to be unimpressed with his so called future husband, when he finally managed to pry the pink weapon from the child's hand, and turned to his silver haired companion to hand it over.
He flushed immediately when he got a look at the other boy's face.
Oh no.
He was hot.
0000
And Harry is now a lost cause. Hello hormones. Wham, HIT BY A FUCKING TRAIN.
