So here we go again. For those who already read the first version of Seducing Fleas, I'd like to thank you for actually giving the new version a try. I seriously hope that you'll like it better. It will be just a little bit more serious than the previous version and with a lot of profanities.

Because, come on, we are talking about Levi and Harry. Also, romance will be really slow paced. And I'll try my best to actually put some depth in the characters. And that's it.

"Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy." F. Scott Fitzgerald.

There are way too many different ways to begin an adventure. But for this story, for Harry Potter's final and decisive adventure, the beginning was the most inconspicuous and forgettable thing.

That being a forgotten cup of cold tea left on the mess of Harry Potter's desk.

But let's retrospect and introduce the different actors in this story oh so interesting.

There was the friend, loyal and ready to protect the hero at the cost of their own life.

There was also the foe. The one who put the things into motion and who, unknowingly (or was it knowingly?), put the hero on his way to fame.

And, of course, there was the hero. Harry Potter, the one who, after having vanquished the Evil Lord during a duel that had been romanticized so many times that it could give someone a headache, had settled into a dull and peaceful life in a desk-job.

Without forgetting that poor little cup of tea, of course.

Now, let's get on this story. It is a long and rather intriguing story, full of plot holes and missing elements. Yet, I'll try my best to relate everything and, if needed to be, to complete the missing parts with my own memories.

The beginning of this story happened long ago, in a far, far away place, in a world way different from ours. It is also said that the world from where Harry Potter came was more advanced than ours, with chariots that could move without horses and people who could fly in the sky with little to no help from technology. Of course, this can sound like a fairytale but don't forget who is the hero in this story.

Harry Potter is something akin to the materialization of every legend that we could have heard in those last centuries and way more. Yet, I'm trying to relate what really happened during (as everyone likes to phrase it) "Humanity's counterattack".

A. A., "Harry Potter: A legend among us", 8xx.

[…]

"Just so you know," the voice was almost gravelly, ricocheting sharply in the fireplace. "They still want to see you..."

Harry softly snorted and rummaged in the mess over his desk, pushing aside the clutch of crumpled sheets of paper covered in his chicken writing while he ignored the insisting look that his friend was sending him from the fireplace.

"Yeah, yeah," the Survivor muttered before his face lightened as he had finally found what he was looking for.

He happily waved the Remembrall, his green eyes sparkling while he noticed that the smoke inside the little ball was turning red.

"So you truly had forgotten about that," his friend deadpanned.

"Stuff it, Neville," Harry retorted lightly before carelessly throwing the Remembrall at the floating head in his fireplace.

Neville merely blinked and cocked his head, narrowly avoiding the ball before heavily sighing.

"Why is it always me?" he muttered with a deep suffering sigh on par.

Harry tilted his head and smirked slightly at his old friend.

"Because you always were the most Hufflepuff of us," he reminded him with a cocky wiggle of his eyebrows. Harry was quickly rewarded by Neville's annoyed huff and cackled once before he straightened his back and went back to the mess on his desk.

He swiftly pushed all the crumpled sheets on the dusty floor and ran a hand through his hair while he carefully eyed all the mess left on his oak desk. There was a quill quickly scribbling something on a post-it notes and Harry glanced at it.

Some notes about his latest discovering in his lab. Not interesting.

"Yeah, right," Neville rolled his eyes and huffed another time. "Then what does that make you? You are the one who always tries to save everyone."

"That's hardly Hufflepuff material," Harry retorted with a small snort. He absentmindedly rubbed his palm on his forehead and heavily sighed. "It's just my people saving thing."

"Right," Neville agreed quietly.

One of the embers suddenly burst and it surrounded Neville's face, briefly creating shadows on his worried face before they vanished. The man didn't even blink, his dark blue eyes intensively looking at the dark haired man that was slumped on his seat. Harry was currently glaring halfheartedly at his feet, absentmindedly noticing that one of his socks had a hole and that a bit of his big toe was peeking through it.

"You do know that you can visit Ginny," Neville's soft voice finally broke the heavy tension in the room and Harry chuckled grimly.

"I do," he said and that was it.

He knew. Yet that didn't mean that it couldn't make him feel bad whenever someone talked about his former fiancée. Their engagement had been so suddenly broken, it still left Harry with a bad taste in his mouth. The dark haired man softly shook his head and absentmindedly caressed his wand. The tip flared a bit and he quickly put it down.

"Also, you do know that you never leave this room," Neville added with a small frown. "Since we lost Ron, you went full-recluse, Harry. That can't be good for you health."

"There is it," Harry commented with a little chuckle. "Mother hen Neville in all his righteous glory!" The wizard shook his head fondly and swiftly jumped on his feet before he went to kneel in front of the fireplace so his friend could see him better. "Also, Neville, you ought to stop phrasing marriage as losing someone. It can be quite misleading..."

"It is like losing someone," Neville retorted sharply with a dramatic eye-roll. "When was the last time that Ron actually went out to drink some butterbeer with us? When, Harry?"

"You're making your diva act, Nev'..."

"Right! Two years ago!" the brown haired man retorted with an outraged huff. "Two bloody years, Harry! If I didn't know better, I'd think that he was held hostage in his own house!"

"C'mon, Neville," Harry sighed with a small smile. "I see him all the time at the ministry. He's doing good and doesn't have a lot of time now that they have kids, you know?"

"Kids, right," Neville muttered. He suddenly glanced behind him and cursed under his breath. "I have to go, Harry. Those annoying brats are still trying to play with my mandrakes..."

"Sometimes, I realize that we actually were little angels back in Hogwarts," the other commented while the fire flared and his friend's head vanished from the fireplace.

Harry shook his head and looked around him. Now that Neville wasn't talking with him, the casual and fond smile on his face wasn't needed and he swiftly stopped smiling, his face turning focused while he eyed the mess left on his oak desk.

"Well," he whispered lightly as he took his white coat and put it on. "Guess it's time to work a bit."

[…]

When one was asked about Harry Potter's fated job, one always wanted to answer "Auror". Because that was what Harry Potter was good at. Saving people and arresting bad guys.

Yet, Harry Potter never became an Auror. Of course, when the war ended, they offered him an Order of Merlin and a really good place in the Auror's department. But Harry immediately refused and told everyone that he had gotten his fill of battles and wanted to do something else.

That something else being research on forgotten magical artifacts and creating new curses.

When Harry had said that, he had been prepared for the deluge of protests from pretty much everyone. And he got that. What he hadn't been prepared was for his old teacher of Enchantments to actually vouch for his name in the Department of Mysteries and fight teeth and nails until he got a job there. Filius Flitwick ignored his thanks when Harry visited him at Hogwarts and just patted his shoulder (standing on his tiptoes on his desk) with a knowing smile.

"Your mother asked for the same job and I did the same thing for her," he told him with a wink. "I don't see why I shouldn't do it for you too, Mr. Potter. You always showed her astounding talent in my classes."

Harry had been so surprised by his former teacher's answer that he hadn't even been able to press him with other questions. Flitwick merely ushered him out of his class (as he had a class of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws to teach) and Harry found himself gaping at a closed door.

Thus, he became an Unspeakable. And he was good at it. Surprisingly good. In a sole year, he researched and discovered over ten new artifacts and finally wrote a thesis over the Deathly Hallows. Of course, that thesis was considered a mere study of a known legend. Yet, Harry (and his friends who knew about his thesis) knew that this was probably the best analysis and report of the Hallows that had been written since their creation. But Harry didn't stop there. After he finished studying the Hallows, he changed his objective and asked to work on a counterspell for the Avada Kedavra.

With all the efficacy that he had shown during that same year, his superiors were quick to agree and Harry got a new office, in the deepest part of the Department of Mysteries, as well as a lab. When they gave him the green lights, they pretty much sealed his fate because Harry began literally living in his office, only leaving for quick stops at his house to shower and eat. He lived for his job and loved it, something that his friends could only shake their head fondly at him whenever they got to see him. (Firecall were now the only effective way to speak with him)

"Only you, Harry," they liked to say.

But Harry didn't really care about it, he was finally getting some results and had a lead for his counterspell.

Like he said the very same morning where everything changed, "I'm at this to find it!"

But as always when it concerned Harry J. Potter's life, it was when everything was going well that Fate liked to remind him that he was her favorite toy.

[…]

Harry threw his coat on the chair and raked his eyes on his lab table, noticing how everything had been left untouched, even his jar full of spiders. He ghosted his fingers over the lid, watching how the spiders went into a frenzy, trying to avoid him, knowing what was about to happen.

"Sorry, guys," he whispered before he took off the lid and selected two spiders.

He petrified them and put them on his table, just under the neon lamp so he could see it perfectly. The magnifying charm on his glasses buzzed to life and Harry licked his lips while he reread carefully his notes from last time. He was thirsty.

The wizard softly sighed and went to his intercome. That had been quite difficult to install in the whole Department but the new Minister had been pretty adamant on it. Muggle technology needed to be added because the flying notes could be intercepted and that was a no-go in the Department of Mysteries.

"Justin?" he called as he pushed the button of the intercome.

He was rewarded by the familiar static and after some time, the chirpy voice of his assistant answered him.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Do you have the time to fetch me some tea? You're almost on break time, right?"

"Yeah," Justin laughed happily and immediately added. "I'll bring you a tea. Want some muffin with it?"

"No, just tea is fine," Harry answered with a small smile. "Thanks."

"No problem," Justin retorted heartily. "Anything for our favorite saviour!"

Harry rolled his eyes with annoyance at the insignificant jab and went back to his experiments. He had two dead spiders by the time Justin lightly knocked at his door and just pointed at his desk with his chin. His assistant didn't comment on it, clearly accustomed to Harry's way while the dark haired wizard continued writing his new discovering. Justing swiftly left, closing the door behind him, and Harry continued writing.

By the time he realized that his tea was on his desk, it was already midnight and Harry sighed heavily. He had forgotten to eat. Again.

The wizard walked to his desk and let himself fall on his chair, glancing at the mess on his desk as well as at the tea. The ice cold tea that he had forgotten about.

"I forget too many things those days," Harry muttered to himself while he rubbed his forehead.

His fading lightning bolt scar tingled briefly and he froze. His eyes widened in surprise and he looked at the door.

It was open.

Justin had closed it when he had left, hours ago.

Harry's scar tingled another time and he slowly moved his hand towards his wand. It was just next to his cup of tea. Only at mere inches from his fingers.

Yet, it was too far when he finally caught sight of the invader.

"Rookwood?" Harry said and his face darkened while his eyes narrowed.

From tired researcher, he went to seasoned warrior and was already rolling under his desk, the death curse colliding with his emptied chair. The chair fell with a loud clatter and Harry cursed under his breath when he realized that he had left his want on his desk.

"Well, well, Mr. Potter," Rookwood drawled. "Isn't it surprising to see you in my old office?"

Harry rolled his eyes at his enemy's play and considered his options left. He needed his wand. He fucking needed it.

And because Harry was such a Gryffindor, he just went for it. Plans be damned, if he didn't have his wand, he was as good as dead. So he jumped on his desk, kicking all the crumpled sheets there and making them fly, thus hiding him from Rookwood's eyes while he fumbled and looked for his wand. He finally found it, hiding amongst the sheets of paper and the quills, and quickly pointed it at Rookwood's chest.

"STUPEFY!" he screamed.

But just as he did that, he noticed that the former Death Eater had also incanted something. And that a half-full cup of tea was hanging by its handle on his wand. Green eyes widened in shock and horror while he saw the familiar red curse go through the tip of his wand, pushing the cup of tea (still with tea in it. Harry was actually impressed by that fact) towards Rookwood and actually meeting the older wizard's curse midway.

The cup shattered, splattering its tea while his Stupefy and that unknown curse collided.

And just like that, Fate reminded Harry that he was indeed her bitch.

[…]

When Harry finally got back to his sense, he realized a lot of things.

Those mostly being that he wasn't in his lab, Rookwood wasn't there, he still had his wand (thanks Merlin for this small miracle, by the way) and that he was also extremely naked. And without his glasses.
Actually, those two last facts weren't the most worrying of the lot. Harry was accustomed of waking in some unknown place as he was affected with the extremely rare and strange disease of sleepapparating. So, while it wasn't the first time that he had woken up in an unknown place in his birth suit, it was the first that he didn't have his glasses. Those were pretty much glued to his face.

Actually, they had been. (But that had been just one extremely drunk night and Harry didn't like to think about that)

Harry wearily blinked and heavily sighed. From what he could discern with his blurry sight, he was somewhere in a field. And from the rocks hurting his backside, abandoned too. The wizard promptly stood up and dusted his bottom, wincing whenever he had to take off some of the rocks that were littering his body. From what he could see, it seemed that he had fell from quite a height and had rolled in the field.

"Accio glasses," Harry incanted and he frowned. His magic was sluggish, almost reluctant and this was the first time that it had happened to him since the great battle against What's His Name. Also, his glasses didn't come to him.

The wizard sighed heavily and resolved himself on walking until he found a village as it seemed that apparating would be a no-go with his almost depleted magic.

After some walking, he finally got to meet one of the inhabitants of the rather inhabited place. And, to be honest, the meeting was quite shocking on both parts.

"What in the freaking Merlin's underpants is that thing?" Harry muttered while he widened his eyes.

The thing in question didn't seem to appreciate the question and answered with simply stretching its ridiculously gigantic arm to catch the man.

The latter, as he liked his body in a whole piece, swiftly ducked and rolled on the grass. He frowned when he noticed that the gigantic thing (was it a giant? It did look like it) was slower than him. And that it was naked and didn't have genitals.

Where in the hell had he ended... And, because Harry had always been someone who adapted quickly, he swiftly decided to stop short the battle. Mostly because he could feel his magic shuddering and that had never been a good thing.

[…]

The lance corporal Levi wasn't really a slacker. So when Erwin Smith had ordered him to take some vacations (read 'go back to his hiding place and watch over some brats'), Levi had nodded and left Erwin's office.

And proceeded on slaying some titans on his way to their recently acquired base. (the fact that their base was on the other - and safer - side of the wall Rose was totally irrelevant. The man needed some time alone, you know?)

Killing those atrocious and anti-hygienic monsters was way better than getting drunk. And it helped him with that ache that always came with the losses. Way better than getting a hangover. Also, he had that tingling feeling at the extremity of his limbs, similar to his time in the slumps, bothering him. Thus, slicing time.

Swiftly cutting through the beast's flesh, Levi narrowed his eyes when the fuming blood splashed his face and he smirked dimly as the familiar rumbling that were the titan's steps began.

However, the monster began to run and passed by Levi's side without even casting him a glance.

The lance corporal Levi wasn't happy when he was ignored. Was it by some stupid recruits or a freaking titan, Levi was going to teach them some civility.

Henceforth, his tridimensional gear whirled as he followed the titan and he jumped on a wrecked roof when the monster stopped running.

Well, it was more like the creature had been forced to stop...

Levi's eyes narrowed once again as he noticed a human silhouette run in the abandoned district and the soldier clicked his tongue in aggravation.

Was it Jaeger who couldn't transform (again...) and had lost his gear? (that shitty brat was going to die once the lance corporal caught him)

And then, two things happened that changed everything and made Levi swear under his breath.

One, that person had dark, almost raven like, hair and the soldier was pretty sure that Jaeger hadn't dyed his hair. Also, the human being (a man if Levi's estimation weren't wrong) wasn't wearing the Recon Corps uniform. Hell, he wasn't even wearing citizens' habitual clothes. Or clothes at all.

Two, the titan's head blew away. Like that. No cannons, no soldiers in tridimensional gear. Nothing.

It just exploded.

And then, there was a single ray of green light and the titan vanished in smoke.

They say that when you see the light of hope after a long time in the darkness of despair, even the most insensitive soldier can shed tears.

Not Levi.

His was more of a 'That fucker killed my prey' kind of reaction.

Surely, this was the beginning of a lovely love story.

End chapter one.
Do you believe in love at first sight?

I'm already working on the second chapter. It will be way longer and with a lot of actual talking between our two lovebirds. So... what did you think of the new version?