(A/ N)- 2/14/17- BEWARE, CHAPTERS 1-9 WERE WRITTEN IN MY ADOLESCENCE. THEY'RE KEPT "AS IS" AS A PERSONAL TIME CAPSULE FOR HOW FAR I'VE COME IN STORYTELLING SINCE. CHAPTER 10 IS WHEN THE WRITING STYLE SHOWS A SHIFT.

7/5/09- THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN SEVERELY RE-EDITED BY ME. HAVE A NICE DAY! :]

Sorry about the late updates for my other stories. I should've stuck with one story, then worked on the other once I was finished with it. Now, we're trying a different type of category. I assume you've heard of Harry Potter and Ouran High School Host Club? Well, I bet you haven't read a story with these two mixed together into a crossover! I hope you enjoy this, even though the first 9 chapters were written in my high school years. -shifts eyes- I'm glad to say beginning chapter 10 and onward, the writing definitely improves.

I'm gonna make Harry and some characters sometimes act out of character (OOC). As circumstances permits, I'm going to keep them all somewhat in character but you should know that the laws of keeping them in character has been warped with Harry's appearance. -smirks- I wonder if I can tone down the humor a bit and keep the angst away for awhile. Soon to be rated M for pure adulterated language and probable lemons ("probably never" seems appropriate at this time).

As for readers who can't stomach the sheer thought of two guys being together... there's a reason why the backspace arrow was created. Use it!

'Blah Blah' means a quote from either book

'Blah Blah'means a quote but with my own touchup included

"Blah Blah" means literally shouting in a very, Very, VERY loud voice

"Blah Blah" means dialogue

'Blah Blah' means a thought

'You know what's so bad about being a guy?'

'What, having an extra appendage?'

'No, being straight and having a horde of your drinking-buddies suddenly hitting on you, that's what.'

~A back and forth convo between my cousin and I

Trivial Affections

Chapter 1

'Top floor, south wing...'

Cursing vehemently under his breath, a boy with messy, tangled locks of midnight hair, exotic features foreign to the majority of the Asian population, mentally stuck all those he despised into a boiling cauldron he conjured up within his imagination. Aah, the absolute artistry of his vivid imagination. It nearly brought tears to his eyes. Such splendid details and the screams of the black-hearted.

'Double, double, toil and trouble. Fire burn and cauldron bubble! Flaming fillet of dictators and say sayonara, you spoiled, rich brats!'

Footsteps barely making any noises on the slick marble floor, he made his way up the extravagant, spiraling stairs of the populated Ouran High School. His loose cotten cargo pants whipped his calves as he ran, and the scratchy wool sweater he donned on in the morning was slipping down his shoulders like butter—butter (he admits) resembling that of the unfortunate shade of a vibrant, red tomato. In fact, his wardrobe consists of many hand-me-downs his guardians could only afford to give but did the rich kids give a damn? Noooo.

But as usual, he was tuned out and off in la-la land when the insults came flying at the "school commoner".

'Tch, snobs and their stuck-up personalities.'

So who were they to judge him? They weren't even seasoned fashionistas with their uniformal blue blazers and yellow civvies. The image of his former school chum immediately came into mind. She was the first one he befriended the first day at Ouran and despite being two months into the year, they had parted ways after she claimed he "brought her reputation down". That and her wild allegations. He snorted. Like he would hit on her. And just because he was open-minded to all sorts of relationships didn't mean he would go "gay" on her arse; her religion didn't have to do anything with it, and him occasionally going through stories of such relationships and sometimes writing a few for someone he held dear in his heart didn't mean he lied to her. There was a difference between keeping silent of his tolerance and telling lies and, unfortunately, apparently she didn't see it that way.

Truth be told, he didn't know why he hung out with her in the first place. "This just goes to show what good instincts I must have at making friends," he muttered sarcastically under his breath. Rising his voice, he adopted a higher pitch and recited, "'Oh, Harry. I've been thinking about this for the entire week and I'm sorry to tell you so but I'd just like us to be distant... acquaintances. Don't get me wrong; I think you're a cool person and all but, you know, I'm very homophobic and... let me just tell you this. When I first saw you, no offense, but I thought you were a homosexual. And also, like... no one in their right mind—no offense, Harry—would approach a girl that was keeping to herself and doing her work in class. So... just keep your distance and... let's still be friends. Just not... um, close friends.'"

He had protested, "Wait, I don't understand. What went wrong between us? What have I done to make you-"

She had groaned, rolling her eyes at his incompetence. "-Look, there is nothing between us! Get it? My parents disapprove of your background, and you know how parents are like. You can't go against them; their word is the law. Everytime I spoke to you, you're very quiet and you agree with everything I say! Your personality just seems fake, and I don't like it that you're always 'hovering' over me. I don't even think I know you!"

"I only have two ruddy classes with you and we rarely even eat lunch together. Hell, I see you after school and I don't think that's exactly 'hovering'. If it's peering over your shoulder to decipher whatever it is that you're reading in the Computer Lab, then I'll stop since it bothers you so mu-"

"-Look, I just don't know you! How do I know everything you've told me hasn't been a lie? YOU WRITE 'SLASH' FICTION, FOR PETE'S SAKE! I don't associate myself with the wrong crowd, and you know I have all "A's" and a 4.0 GPA? We have NOTHING alike! Because I'm 'pure and untainted', I don't want to sully myself with the likes of—argh, forget it; if you say 'hi' to me, I'll still reply. Just be your normal self-"

"-I AM acting like my normal self! AND I ONLY WROTE THOSE FOR-"

"-Did you even listen to what I said? I DON'T CARE! So stop 'hovering' over me, or I'll report you to the principal and have my daddy sue you for harrassment!"

He smiled bitterly. Stupid rich kids. In reality, he knew not all the wealthy were like this, but the general population he witnessed so far seemed to be the type to take prejudiced actions. Even his so-called "best friend" was prejudiced against him... despite him constantly reassuring her he didn't swing that way. Great, just another waste of two months of his limited time on Earth. So what if they all had the Ouran crest sewn on their uniforms? So what if they were filthy rich and he was dirt poor? At least he had the decency to be considerate of others' thoughts and keep... his... freaking... mouth... shut.

'Damn it, four libraries and the place is still too crowded.'

Anyways, today had been a bad day. From this morning's incident of almost waking up late to getting pelted with stares to today's forecast of insults, nothing was right in the world of Harry James Potter. So when the first Passing Period came, when he was already sitting in his chair and ignoring his ex-friend at his left, he was spiritlessly flipping through the novel his Literature professor had assigned the day before. Just when the main character was about to learn a life-valuable lesson, a throng of his fellow peers surrounded his desk, jeering and having fun hurling their usual stabs at his background since class had yet to start.

It wasn't at all that bad, really, and he could tell his tormentors were getting tired of his lack of reaction but one girl just had to step it up a notch. She had smiled wickedly and mentioned of how she heard his mom was a "whore" and his father "pimped her out in the streets" so that Harry could enroll in Ouran. At that, he quietly dog-eared the page of where he left off, shut his book, and angled his body so that he faced them (all of whom were too busy high-fiving her to notice what was happening). With unnerving calmness, he walked up to his tormenters and with a large smile (one that made his cheeks hurt), he promptly enlightened them with a cheerful "screw you." And with another smile that caused his back molars to ache, he packed his things and happily walked out of class.

And all was right in his world.

After recovering from their shock, the small mob caught up to him in the halls, grabbing him by the elbow and jerking harshly. Despite threatening Harry to "shut the hell up and take back what he said", their enraged reactions had been too funny not to laugh. With the intervention of a passing teacher, he got away with a mere twist of the arm and the professor had been nice enough to give him the go-ahead to ditch class under the excuse of checking for bodily injuries at the Nurse's Office. And now this brings us sometime later watching the poor boy scrambling to find a place to study during the first thirty-minute Leisure Period, or what was known as 'Snack' back in his old middle school.

He grumbled, "I mean, if you don't want to study, just... go... home. Come on, it's not like anyone's studying there anyways!" 'I can't believe I moved all the way here from the UK to Japan... just to be stuck with snotty nosed brats who can't hold a single, meaningful conversation without mentioning what they spent their money on recently. I don't care if Ouran's the best of the nation; I just wish I never transferred here from Hogwarts.'

Shoving through the crowd of students gathered on the top floor, he stopped momentarily to bow and whisper apologetic excuses when the girls gave outraged cries. A tiny, nervous smile curved up his lips as he promised to make it up to them in one way or another before speeding off again to God knows where.

'The unused music room at the end of the North Hallway...'

'Now, here, this must be unoccupied,' he mentally concluded, skidding to a halt in front of what was called the "Music Room 3". Not a single instrumental music could be heard through the walls—unlike the day before when the hooting of bagpipes shook his Algebra II class—and inside seemed to be void of any life. "It's quiet so maybe there isn't anyone here?"

As he opened the door with one hand (the other was holding onto the school textbooks), the door was blown back by silky petals of roses streaming from the hot gust of wind, hitting him square in the face. An orchestra of classical Beethoven resonated pleasantly in his ears and, eyebrow twitching, in order to steer clear of the strange happening, he was about to abandon ship when silence took reign once again. It was, for lack of a better word, weird. Scratching at his head, he shrugged off the incident and stepped closer. He had made up his mind earlier to enter the music room, and it wasn't as if he was prohibited from entering... he couldn't see the harm in studying in what was probably the only uninhabited room in the entire campus. He might as well make use of it.

A lump formed in his throat. Weirdly enough, this reminded him of a scene in some shoujo manga some girls were gushing over in class today. He chuckled. And if reality followed the laws of fiction, then a horde of good-looking men would suddenly appear and declare their undying love to him. 'Yeah, right. When pigs fly...'

With a bit of hesitancy, he mustered some bravado and stepped in, only to rear back from the flashing lights and six people chorusing, "Hello, and welcome to the Host Club."

'I sought quiet... instead, I found the Host Club!'

The startled freshman stumbled back in surprise from the sensual purr of musculine voices and as he silently slid down the wall, his books dropped with a clatter around his feet. Six handsome men uniformed in blue stood before him, fixing their curious stares lazily upon him. His heart raced at the sight and he berated himself for his moment of speechlessness. 'Great, it wasn't empty after all. What's more, I didn't know there were students with rather good looks in this schoo—tch, if only she hadn't accused me of being gay. I'm still not over it. If it weren't for her, I probably wouldn't be thinking about this now. ...Okay, sooner or later, I'm bound to be like my godparents if I continue this train of thought. Not that I mind and all, but still.'

He studied the men, taking in their proud expressions with disbelieving eyes. They weren't looking at him like an exotic insect under a microscope (unlike the rest of the Asian population here). That infuriating fascination still there but it looked like it was that of innocent curiosity. 'They must be wondering who in their right mind would dare tresspass their Ho-...Host Club? Wow, um, I must have stumbled into a portal of some sort,' he mused. 'Okay, this is almost like the scene from that manga now.'

"Hey, your Lordship, it's a guy!" two twins with sharp amber eyes reported excitedly towards the amethyst-eyed blonde.

'No shit, Sherlock.'

Harry watched as the pair shared knowing smirks, slipping into a mockery of a devil persona. He had never been good at telling twins apart. They looked so alike! Yet despite their near identical features, there were notable differences between the two. He breathed a mental sigh of relief. One held a softer look as if he had been bullied in his childhood and the other carried the undeniable air of confidence. They also parted their cinnamon-red bangs differently... maybe as a way to help people differentiate between the two—one right and another left.

If he had to describe the two, Harry would lie through his teeth and say the redheads were definitely handsome to the boyish extent. But if he had to be honest, he would call that level of attractiveness: "handsomely gay". No and's, if's, or but's. The twins just oozed homosexuality. He didn't know how to describe it; the two just looked flaming gay.

The blonde however...

Indigo eyes came to survey the boy thoughtfully and Harry felt chills shoot down his spine. The blonde's fingers had been weaved together to rest on strong thighs that were slim yet obviously showed some muscle through the black slacks, and the luxurious mane of flaxen gold crowned his head. Harry thought the blonde's bangs fell rather enticingly in his eyes. Girls would definitely go gaa-gaa over this type of guy. In Harry's mindpoint, the blonde carried himself with the easy grace and superior air of a powerful patriarch. Harry swept his gaze from the man's bare trace of a widow's peak to his neatly pressed button-down attaire, noting of how only he had a chair to sit on and everyone else stood in a relaxed semicircle.

Perhaps this was the so called club's president? Looked like a ruddy ponce with the severe case of a swelled-head.

Harry gave an indignant little snort. "Of course I'm a guy. What did you think I was, a bloody wizard?"

"Oh my gosh-"

"-He has the same accent!"

"-As our-"

"-Widdle Riddle!"

"What did you call me?" The one with the narrow scarlet eyes barked at the two, sending the twins scurrying off into the distance. He stood tall with shoulders thrown back and back pin-straight, someone that looked like he had class. The guy who was called 'Riddle' leveled his crimson gaze on where he stood and immediately Harry shuddered, feeling naked under the man's intense look.

The blonde sent a scathing glare at the two redheads and hissed, "Shush, you dolts. Men are valuable patrons too, so stifle it!" He quickly glanced at Riddle fearfully, and turned back to smile warmly at the rattled freshman. Again, flowing roses scattered in the air from behind the blonde's throne, (Harry couldn't pinpoint the exact origin from his current viewpoint), as he proudly announced, "Welcome to the Ouran Host Club... Potter, Harry-kun, Ouran's second scholarship student! You are a rather rare creature in this place." He beamed, amethyst eyes twinkling brightly. "Foreigner, I welcome you to our humble excuse of a pied-à-terre."

"...Uh, thanks?"

'The Private Ouran Institute... the wealthy are blessed with idle hours and six handsome, especially idle students have formed the Host Club to entertain females also burdened by a surfeit of leisure time. It is an elegant institution unique to ultra-upper-crust high school.'

For some reason, Harry couldn't help but find his eyes drawn back to the one standing next to the blonde. Riddle was, in a word or two, rather striking, his midnight hair tied back in a little ponytail that trailed by the nape of his neck. It wasn't everyday you see a dude with a ponytail. Stray strands fell alongside the sides of his face, but it was exceptionally sexy on him even if some fell out of the leather thong tying his hair back. Among the men, he stood out with his non-Asian features and his more refined, posh posture that reminded Harry of a young Voldemort from Hogwarts: the Movie. He looked like someone he could look up to.

"My, my. Now what do we have here? A common folk," Riddle purred with a slight simper gracing his thin lips. Harry immediately regretted his thoughts.

Oh yeah, not exactly welcoming.

"I beg your pardon?" Harry said sharply. He rose to the bait, recognizing it as a challenge, a test the rich casually used everyday to see what made him tick. "What's so wrong being... what you folks call "common"? I mean, it gets kinda annoying when, you know, everyone's calling you something you cannot exactly comprehend yet rubs you off the wrong way."

The small quirk of a dark eyebrow and a bemused expression filled the man's face at the unique counter. A wry smile tugged on his aristocratic features, his cheekbones and angles clearly defined in the light. "I wouldn't know but a pity, then."

Harry suddenly had the strong urge to sock the smirk off a certain someone's face.

"Please allow me the pleasure of educating your puerile mind. It is my resolve to see that common folks won't easily fit into our elegant culture. After all, this school was originally established to admit sons and daughters of the rich instead of common-blooded people—hence, the common folks. Only a scholarship student with the mulish stubbornness of a jackass could ever make it through to this fine institution. I've heard you achieved much accomplishments besides being accepted in this school, correct?"

He leaned forward, draping an arm across the blonde's throne of finely carved woodwork. "Even so, it's still an uphill to get noticed for someone of your background. It's a wonder how quickly you've become popular. You must have a mysterious charisma no one else has," he noted, granting the boy a malicious smirk. "My compliments to you."

"Gee, thanks a load," Harry replied with a cynical overtone. 'Note to self, tell him to get the stick up his arse removed.'

'You're just jealous of his good looks. Not that you'd mind, of course.' A voice responded back in the same snarky tone that sounded suspiciously like his own.

'Shut up, you stupid-! Wait... oh freak no, I'm talking to myself... in my head. That's it, I've officially gone loco. Just sign me up and stick me in a mental institution. Help, I'm speaking to imaginary people that strangely sound like me!' Harry nearly smacked his forehead in frustration. Nearly. In midst of strange men.

"Why yes! In short, Harry-kun, you're a trail-blazer!" The blonde grabbed Harry's hands and shook them ecstatically to the point where he thought his arms were about to fall off its sockets. "Welcome, Ouran's notorious pauper, to the realm of wealth! Although you're the top student in your class, why you're poorer than a church mouse! Some may call you a weed or despise your low-class status but the fact is, don't worry. Everyone will!"

Was he trying to illustrate his condolences? 'Well he's failing rather marvelously at that.' "Uh-huh... you think?" A tic appeared by Harry's right eye, the very same tic that's causing the said eye to twitch, and he fruitlessly continued trying to pull his hands out of the blonde's iron grip. "And why do you, a complete stranger, know my name?"

"There's nothing wrong with poverty, of course. And not to worry, I, Tamaki Suoh, won't discriminate against you!" Tamaki continued on, Harry's question going unnoticed. "You're in fact a crusader, and a crusader needs only one thing: a reckless heart!" he declared pasionately. Abruptly as his erratic behavior came, the blonde halted in his rant and took on a different subject he had been dying to ask Harry ever since the juicy rumor passed his ears. "Of course, I've also overheard from some students that you're gay. That not it isn't acceptable or anything! In fact, loving someone beyond the transgression of being the same gender is courageous and to think you're willing to display such-"

"Excuse me?" Harry spluttered, his eyes widening comically behind his large spectacles. "What the fuck are you talking about? I'm not-"

Tamaki bristled at the cuss word thrown into the scholarship student's choice of vocabulary. "Language, Potter! Anyways, so what's your type? The silent heart throb? I assure you, he's a real sensitive man underneath." A gesture to the tallest man Harry had ever seen face to face. "Our boy lolita? He's as cute as he looks!" This time, a motion to a boy not even half the size of the giant standing nearby. "Now, you know him as Riddle but to the ladies, he's known to be a perfect gentleman. British, too; probably right up your alley." Oh, the red-eye jerk. "Twincest? Or..."

Combing his fingers through golden curls, he demonstrated a suggestive wiggle of his golden eyebrows. Reaching a hand to cup Harry's chin, he softly crooned, "Am I more your style? How 'bout it, underclassman?"

The familiar sensation of chills running down his spine came once more as Harry shivered in faint revulsion. Great, now even this dope had heard what his ex-friend spread behind his back. Besides, a man willingly hitting on him? Had he been the third party to this surreal experience, he would've laughed and deemed it ridiculous. Plus, what was up with the salesman approach? Did he think he was pitching a sale or something? Quickly, he scrambled away from the screwball and unknowingly, placed himself in another dire predicament. He was in the embrace of another (he had mistaken the firm chest as a wall)—a certain ruby-eyed individual taken aback by the boy's sudden display of cheek.

At first, Harry didn't notice he was anyone's arms as he was busy sprouting off embarrassed retorts. "Dude, look, don't believe everything you hear from people. I don't swing that way! And who are you to-"

"-A crusader," the shortest of the blonde's entourage interrupted. "So then, Harry, you're really a prince? Like the prince in the Prince and the Pauper, pretending to be poor when in actuality, being far well-off in his wallet and of noble blood? Waaaa, amazing! Does that mean you also have tales of rescuing princesses? Ooh, I just love those!"

"I'm not a damn prince," Harry scowled irritably. "I get it already so you can stop making fun of my background." Huffing in annoyance, he looked down to lock gazes with the kid but he felt a pang of guilt when his eyes met the other's. Even the thick fringe of abnormally fair hair couldn't hide the wide, watery eyes threatening to spill out. The self-proclaimed lolita collapsed in tears and the tall man that had been at his side kneeled down on a knee, comforting the fair boy with a worn-down stuffed bunny he had hidden behind his back.

The lolita in question—he looked no older than ten at the very least—pinned him with the cutest glare Harry had ever seen before burrowing his face back into his toy. Odd, why was there a child at Ouran High? From what he knew, all visitors were required to have hall passes pinned to their breast no matter who you were. Well, it was either that or those outlandish, yellow armbands.

The towering giant, on the other hand, looked like he had seen his share of fights. Cropped raven hair topped his head in short, sassy spikes and as he comforted the boy, curious gray orbs peered at the freshman. In turn, Harry openly stared back, secretly envying the trim, muscular athlete before him. Merlin, if only he had those killer biceps!

The man who was still holding him in a loose embrace let out an amused chuckle, shaking him out of his reverie. Harry heard the start of a rumble welling up, oddly enough, within a person's chest and in his confusion, he noticed his arms being gripped. With only his head to swivel up to glance at the source of the chuckle, he gaped stupidly and tore himself out of the smirking sophomore's arms.

The man's infuriating smirk just got wider. "And here I thought you liked being held," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

"Err, look. I was just trying to find a quiet place to study and somehow, I bumped into you lot." He sighed impatiently, ramming a hand through his disheveled hair. He started to walk away backwards, inching from the strange flirts who had the unfortunate misconception of his sexual orientation. "So, excuse me-"

With a start, he felt his elbow bump against something solid. Whirling around quickly, he saw it was a beautifully carved, ninteenth century Victorian vase that just happened to scream money—the said object teetering dangerously off the edge of its marble pedestal. But before Harry could make a grab to straighten it, the vase tumbled to the floor, smashing into a million pieces of azure porcelain.

A heavy silence wrapped itself around the boys like a thick, suffocating quilt. Oh great, was he in deep shit. He could just hear his "landlord's" voice groaning, 'Good job, boy wonder. You've gotten yourself into an elite school and it hasn't even been a week before you broke something.' Finally, he swallowed hard and quietly mumbled, "I'm sooo dead, aren't I?"

One of the twins fixed Harry with an unwavering glower. "You're damn right you're gonna be, you clumsy fool. That vase was made exclusively by Molly Weasly, thee top artisan in the world of pottery making. Do you know how hard it is to get your hands on any of her collection? Also since it was to be featured in our school audition-"

"-And the bidding was going to start at eighty-thousand grand... but I doubt it would even fetch a grand," the other twin chimed in.

'Holy Mother of...! Eighty frickin' thousand?' Harry swallowed thickly and stammered out a meek, "It's... um, I-I'll pay for it?"

"You bet your ass you will, but how?" the older sounding of the twins drawled.

"You can't even afford the standard uniform," the other one noted, looking over Harry's sweater and cargo pants with blatant distaste.

The crimson-eyed man gave a tiny, almost inaudible sigh before tossing a weary glance at the blonde. "Well, what are you going to do about this? It was originally in your family's possession. Your heirloom, your verdict."

"Hmm," Tamaki pursed his lips in deep thought, tapping the armchair with his perfectly manicured nails. "I don't know, Riddle-san," he admitted, "This is a rather unfortunate dilemma." After a moment of pondering, he snapped his fingers, the sound echoing loudly in the music room. "Well guards, what are you waiting for? Seize him!"

Harry froze.

"Aye aye, Cap!" In the blink of an eye, the two redheads appeared by his side, each twin gripping the crook of his arms tightly in their hold. Harry winced. Well, there went any chance of escaping his due punishment.

"Harry-kun, are you familiar with the saying: 'When in Rome, do as the Romans do'? And this: 'If you don't have the cash, you pay with your carcass'?" he flicked a finger lazily in Harry's direction. "As of today, you're the Host Club's dog."

"Aw shit," Harry groaned, his mind numbly digesting what just took place. "No way. This can't be happening."

The sniffling lolita stopped crying for a moment to look at him sympathetically. Tugging the hem of the tallest man's navy blazer, he made the other bend down till they were in direct eye contact. Whispering a few short words into the other man's ear, he could only look slightly put out as the taller man sighed and shook his head.

Riddle bowed his head, his bangs falling into his eyes and covering half his face from view. It was hard trying in vain to curb his emotions from showing. His eyes had lit up with glee at the prospective profits and as he picked up a clipboard from the nearby table, he hid a small smirk at the unforeseen event that just happened to befall on the misfortunate youth. "Suoh," he murmured softly, long lashes obscuring the view of his sharp eyes. "Shall I draw up a contract?"

Shooting him a grateful look, the blonde let loose a relieved sigh and reclined back into his chair. "Thanks, Riddle-san. You always know what to do in these situations."

Chuckling, Riddle crossed the music room with fluid grace and soon, Harry found himself looking up into the eyes of the sinfully-handsome man. His stomach plummeted as the man crouched, extending his hand to offer a sleek black pen to him. "Come now, Mr. Potter. I believe you owe me your signature?"

'A few years later after you two disappear and somehow dealt a hand in coercing my living arrangments with a certain few who can't handle money, I manage after years of hard work to get into this school. And somehow, I wind up as a petty servant to some yippy-dee-do Host Club.'

"If you could, where would you take me to summer, upperclassman Suoh?" asked a girl boldly, delicately sipping her tea.

Tamaki smiled, mirroring her actions with his own cup. "Wherever you wish to go."

"What's your favorite music genre?" another girl questioned.

"Whatever you like, I like."

Another woman shyly asked him, "I baked a cake for you today. It's not that great, but will you try a tiny piece?"

Tamaki leaned in and whispered, "If you feed it to me, I will."

"Oh, Tamaki," the female sighed and leaned back against the plush frame of the ornately-carved chair, content with his answer.

Harry stared in disgust at the sugarcoated responses the blonde fed to the ladies. Couldn't they tell he was probably taking his lines from a sappy romance novel that badly needed editing? His attention then perked up at the sound of the twins' voice. Maybe the twins' interactions with the females wouldn't be half as bad. With hooded eyes, he peeped at the two redheads from his spot the blonde had collared him to stand guard (he was so going to kill the blonde later) and observe the exchange between the host and his clients.

The older-sounding twin was rolling on the tile floor, laughing and clutching his stomach in agonized laughter. "So this guy, half asleep, tried to save the data he'd pulled after an all-nighter compiling-"

The other sibling flushed a hearty shade of red. "-Not that story, Hikaru!"

He continued on, "And came running to me in a panic, his PJs falling down as he was buck naked!"

"Hikaru! How could you tell everyone?" The younger twin sobbed, pressing his hot face in his hands.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Kaoru," he said softly, prying the hands away from his brother's face, then cupping his cheek. "I didn't know you'd be hurt that much by this. But you're just too adorable when you're in a pitiful state."

The younger twin reverently whispered the older's name, lashes fluttering close in bliss at the contact.

A group of huddled girls together squealed excitedly, "Oh my gosh, brotherly love is just too cute!"

Harry sighed and shook his head. He didn't understand why some girls would go all gaa-gaa over the overly-affectionate spectacle. He would've understood the fawning over Blondie, since he was the only host with golden hair and all, but to actually fall over their heels watching twin brothers whisper incestual pick-up lines was just plain stupid to him. He looked away from the scene, bored out of his mind and not willing to watch the two make-out. It seemed to him that the only person in the music room without his share of customers was the host with unusual red eyes, calmly observing the hosts' performance.

As if reading his thoughts like an open book, Riddle smoothly explained, "Today was supposed to be my sick-leave, so that's why you're not seeing me work my shift. As for the show we put on, you must understand we simply apply our talents to meet each and everyone of the desires of our diverse clients. Incest seems to be popular with the girls as of late, particularly twincest. Haven't you ever come across the "Anime & Manga Club" that just opened a few months ago? Their current theme is "BL" and there have been multiple submissions of relationships such as Cain and Abel from Trinity Blood, and the 'Inu Brothers' from Inuyasha. Hey, what's with the look? ...You don't believe me? Tch, fine. Go take a look yourself."

He handed over his small, ebony-lined journal containing the penned request rates of each host. "Surprisingly, Suoh is our number one draw. And before you ask, no, it is not my diary."

As soon as Harry flipped through the bound pages, his jaw dropped in disbelief. "Him? That... weirdo? A forty-seven percent request rate? But that's almost fifty percent!"

Riddle smirked, nodding at Harry's expected reaction. "Amazing, isn't it? Ever since that second year, Haruhi Fujioka, enrolled into this school, she's been the center of Tamaki's world. Hence, the supplementary of his clients," he said simply. Mild disgust flashed across his face as he concluded, "Simply put, everyone you see here is Tamaki's client. Ours fell short due to the lack of space our club can provide in one sitting, so many were put on waiting lists. I used to be the most requested host but that went away since the girl's appearance in the campus."

"You... don't have any... girls?"

"No, I have quite a supplement of female companions at hand but since I'm juggling two club activities, my girls tend to flock towards the other one I actually manage since they know they have a low chance at getting a one-on-one time with me here unless a request for a sitting had been placed beforehand. ...I do believe I have male suitors as well, so don't despair, Mr. Potter. You're not the only one."

He patted Harry on the shoulder.

"Wait, wait," Harry suddenly frowned. "Back up. Tamaki has a crush on... Haruhi?" he asked, too distracted to notice the jab at his sexuality. 'Geez, another suitor. She already has enough.'

"I thought I already made it clear to you that he did," the man sighed in a weary tone that sounded very much like he was speaking to a slow child.

A flash of hot temper licked at Harry, but he wrestled it down.

"As par of the contract's requirements, you'll handle the basic chores for now. Of course, you can refuse and leave, therefore making the contract void, but my reach—nevermind my family's—is long and wide. I trust you have a passport?" he asked innocently, a small hint of a smile curling up at the corners.

'A devil's smile...'

"That's right, Potter! You've got eighty thousand grand-worth of chores to do." Tamaki breathed down Harry's neck. "And do avoid the ladies." This time, a cruel smirk graced his features. "I cannot be held responsible for all the future disasters that may befall you should the beautiful butterflies report you."

"Argh, stop doing that!" Harry spun around and glared hotly at the amused blonde. "You stay away from me, you bastard! You're just like everyone else at this school! You're just like Malfoy! Listen, man or woman, how we look is irrelevant. You're merely just a player, toying with human emotions. It's not how the way they look, but rather the way they feel. Can't you understand that?" Harry all but shouted, staring defiantly into Tamaki's stunned indigo eyes.

Everyone in the room turned to look at the source of the outburst. A blanket of silence covered the inhabitants as they stared at the madman before them, he already tired from his display of rare contempt. Harsh pants racked his body, but it barely registered due to the bulk of his oversized sweater. The outfit could, in fact, fit a whale. Breathing in deeply, he griped guiltily, "Aah, man. I did it again didn't I?"

Wincing, he lowered his steely gaze to the marble floor. "Look, I didn't mean to blow up at you. You must understand I've had a bad day with my being your... frickin' slave and all." He quickly prattled off his apologies to Tamaki.

Tamaki frowned, tongue in cheek. He made damn sure not to point out that the boy basically threw a childish fit in front of all the customers; the poor boy was embarrassed enough already. Besides, who was this Malfoy he spoke of? "It's quite alri-"

A loud slam interrupted him in mid-speech. Exasperated, he turned to chastise the person for making that dreadful noise but his scolding stopped short and his heart started thudded in his chest, beating away like a wild jackhammer. "Ha-Haruhi! Wha-what brings you here?" he stuttered, now fussing with his neatly combed hair. A faint blush rose to his cheeks and he was suddenly aware of small imperfections on his person as soon as she stepped into the room. He wasn't Adonis, he knew. Because of all his small flaws, this dark beauty didn't dare cast a second look to him.

After all, why else would she reject all his offers to start a relationship? He'd been sure to stay avaliable and free for her, no matter the work load or tasks at hand. He had proposed, sent bouquets, even begged but all his efforts were for naught. His irises darkened. Maybe she wanted someone with a more mature air or something... perhaps like Riddle? He heaved a sigh. Which was why he needed to act more mature and not of a frivolous schoolboy with a crush! He rushed to her side, offering an arm as a gesture of good will. "Haruhi, I'm deeply and sincerely sorry that I've forgotten our appointment for today! And, my, I love your new haircut!"

The one eyeing him in distrust was Haruhi Fujioka, the first famed scholarship student to ever grace the Ouran campus with wide-set eyes the color of aged whiskey. To Tamaki's delight, she was sporting a new pixie-cut do that framed her oval face, the back of her sepia hair curling to an end at the nape of her neck. She seemed rather mystified by his display of chivalry. "Thanks...? But what are you going on about? What appointment?"

It was the blonde's turn to look puzzled, but that only enhanced his adorable kicked puppy look. "You did not want my company?" he asked, sounding genuinely wounded yet hopeful at the same time. "Is it not why you're here?"

"I'm here to see Harry," she professed, flinging an arm around the freshman's shoulders. "So stop deluding youself into thinking I'm worth gushing over. I don't need your recognition anyways." Not that she wanted to have his attention in the first place. To her, he had flung himself on her just because she was the first female to ignore his advances. It was pathetic a man of his upbringing would reduce himself to such a state only when she refused to part a measely morsel of affection. Was he secretly a machoist? It wouldn't surprise her if he secretly was. It might explain why he came begging at her feet for more.

Her face turned green. ...Even that sounded dirty. 'Oh geez, does this make me some sort of a sick sadist?'

Out of the blue, a female student in the same atrocious shade of yellow all female students were required to wear leaped from her chair and attached herself to his waist. "Master Tamaki, I think you're prefect as you are!" Parallel nods followed her action, and he visibly relaxed his agitated posture.

"Why, thank you all. You're too kind. Your adulation touches my heart." Much to the delight of his clients, he flashed a broad smile, revealing too much of his pearly-whites to Haruhi's distaste. Didn't he have any sense of modesty and conservativeness?

She shook her head. And to think she was feeling pity for the host. For goodness sake, the man was a player! Her harsh gaze softened as she felt him shift uncomfortably against her and she stretched out a hand to ruffle Harry's wild hair playfully, causing him to staunch all squirming. "So how are you faring with these crazy kooks, Harry?" She grinned and teased, "Should I bring the dreaded banana?"

Harry blinked and automatically replied, "Nope, pretty good so far. No need for food poisoning as of yet."

The hosts shot him a weird look. Catching this, Haruhi rolled her eyes and mouthed, "Inside joke." Turning back, her arms somehow managed to loop around him in a protective hold, and the self-proclaimed alterego: 'Mother Hen of the Commoners' surfaced. Oh, how she hated that nickname. But true to her namesake, she demanded, "Alright, fess up! So what the heck have you bug-fuck crazies done to him?"

Much to her enjoyment, her irksome suitor looked like he had been diagnosed with a case of precarious malady dentrimental to his looks as soon as the words were uttered from her mouth. "Such vulgar language! A girl should not swear!" he choked, pointing at her direction with a shaking index finger. He whirled to the club's vice-president, threw his arms up in the air, and wailed, "Riddle-san! Did you hear what she just said? She said the 'F' word!"

"I can say whatever I like. It's Japan, dipshit. Freedom of thought and conscience, Article 19, or haven't you heard of the Constitution? And you can't do anything about it."

"You hear that? She said the 'D' word now!"

"Sheesh, calm down, you kissing machine. You're going to get an ulcer if you keep screaming about it."

Embarrased at being by the center of attention, Harry pulled her down and hissed in her ear, "Shut up, please. If you haven't noticed, you're making a scene. Everyone's staring! Besides, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be studying instead of following me?"

Picking up the one-sided conversation with his acute hearing, Tamaki turned to stare at him. "She's been following you?" he asked incredulously. Considering the situation, his amethyst eyes widened when he came to the conclusion she was dating the loser freshman. "Haruhi," he suddenly pouted, sauntering over to the tomboy in a manner as seductive as he could. Haruhi could only look slightly creeped out as he drew closer, instinctively hugging Harry closer to her bosom.

Tamaki easily towered over the both of them. "Just what is your relationship with this," here he paused before spitting out, "...simpleton?"

"Which simpleton are you refering to? You?" Harry growled, directing a glare at Tamaki's jealous stab.

"Simpleton?" Haruhi blinked rapidly at what the blonde had referred Harry as. Her thoughts trailed off as the two quarreled, drifting away as she complemented the blonde's words. Simpleton? Wasn't that the same word he used to insult the shy senior who mustered up his courage to confess to her? Then with chilling clarity, the world came crashing down. Her shoulders shaking, she did what no one expected her to do.

A chortle erupted from her lips and like a burst dam, mad laughter ensued.

Everyone stared at her in bewilderment. "Haruhi!" Harry cried, horrified at her mirth. "You're not suppose to laugh at that!"

Haruhi ignored him, and tromped away from the confused blonde standing shell-shocked at her side. She backed all the way to the ivory doors with such grace that it would make the entire shallow female population jealous, should they witness it of course. She tried to stifle another fit of giggles that burst through her lips, and she lowered her face so that no one would be able to see her wide smirk. "Sorry, Harry. But oh gosh, the irony! That remark was too funny not to laugh. Pft, simpleton!"

She slammed the door shut, whipped around, and in turn, blew a raspberry.

And this pretty much marks the end of chapter one. And before you ask, there's no way I'm pairing Tamaki up with Harry! Sorry, but I'm a die-hard, dedicated fan of TamakixHaruhi pairings. Besides, I can't picture Harry with some tall, blonde that is very emotional and "an annoying idiot" (as quoted by Bisco Hatori). Hmm... maybe.

Also, yes... I downplayed Tamaki's request rates. Why? Let's say they have a hundred clients. There are six men in the Host Club and in this story, I only made him fifty percent popular. If he has fifty and there are five men left, if you divide the percentage equally among the rest, they should get only a percent rate of ten clients at each sitting. In the manga (and anime?), the original draw was seventy. But if you think about it, that would mean everyone else would barely have FIVE customers.

And did I mention I divided equally among themselves? Based on the manga, I did not take in account that the twins and Hunny draw in more clients than Mori and Kyouya in favor of equality. Of course, since I've replaced Tom with Kyouya, and you guys all know how popular Tom is with the ladies...

Heh. Tamaki may face some stiff competition now with Harry in the mix.

-X-

Notes:

In Japan, calling someone with their first name without a suffix or something like that is considered to be close to that person. I dunno where I got this, but I read this on some scanlated doujinshi. I'm just gonna let some people call each other by their first names. "Senpai" refers to upperclassman. And ooh, this means Harry has some sort of a relationship with Haruhi, eh? -sniggers-

-X-

Here's the actual challenge summary:

Challenge: Harry Potter/Ouran High School Host Club: Harry isn't exactly rich or poor, super smart or dumb but some how he got into the richest school in Japan! He lost his parents when he was little and was now living with God parents which were... well not normal but he loved them just the same. Now all Harry wanted to do was prove his worth by doing his best and getting top marks but the only problem was he couldn't find a place to quietly study! After searching the whole school he finally came across a music room that was not occupied, he opened the door but was blown back by a gust of wind and rose petals. Harry blinked and stepped into the room only to hear a chorus of six people say "Hello, welcome to the Host Club". (Harry is Haruhi, Draco is Tamaki, Remus is Honey, Fred and George are Kaoru and Hikaru, (a hot) Snape is Takashi, and Tom is Kyouya. Or just have the same characters from the show.)