Little Thief

Prologue

Okay, so, Mannd1068 wrote this as a part of a challenge, and I just couldn't help but want to continue with it and see where it could go. I asked permission and received it. So, this story is dedicated to Mannd, and I can only hope that I do a good job.

I do not own HP or GW. If I did own GW, then Duo would have gotten with Heero and Trowa with Quatre, Treize would have never died, and Une would be with him. If I owned HP, Sirius would be alive, Harry would be with Draco, people would be making fun of Voldemort's name, and Harry would have just blown Moldy's head off with a bazooka.

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Harry nervously bit his lower lip as he waited in line of the small coffee shop. It was cold out, bitingly so, and his Uncle had dropped him off at the corner with an harsh admonition to not get caught and bring home a lot of well 'lined' wallets. He looked out the big picture window at Grunnings next door, he knew that at any moment his uncle could look out his large window and not see Harry 'working.'

He hated being a pickpocket, something that unfortunately he was quite good at. His uncle had trained him well and at the age of ten, Harry was sent out onto the streets of London everyday and made to help supplement his uncle's income, since he had to pay child support for Petunia and Dudley. After the divorce, Petunia had gotten the house and Dudley; Vernon had gotten Harry.

Harry shivered; his thin coat a bare minimum of protection against the harsh winds and driving snow. The man in front of him ordered a large coffee and pastry, and Harry's mouth began to water. He was starving, but he only wanted something hot to drink. He hoped his Uncle wouldn't find out. He always did though, but Harry was desperate enough, cold enough. Harry bit his lower lip again as the man paid the cashier and moved away.

"Large Hot Chocolate, please," Harry said, sticking his hand into his pocket and opening the wallet that he had just lifted pulled out a bill.

"And a hot tea and two of those bear claws," a voice said behind him. Harry gasped and stared up as the blond teen grabbed two packages of sugar and a stir stick. "Aren't you going to pay her?" he asked, looking down at the terrified boy.

Harry gulped and his knees went weak as he felt a hand grasp the back of his coat, anchoring him to the spot and he placed the bill on the counter. The woman smiled at him, unaware of the boy's terror and quickly made change. "Here you are dearie," she said, putting the hot beverages and sweets on a tray. "I put extra whip cream in for you!" She gave Harry a wink and he tried to stammer something in reply.

"I think I'd better take the tray," the teen said, deftly picking it up. "Don't forget the change." His eyes looked down at Harry then over at the change, nodding his head. Harry quickly picked up the change and felt the man give a small tug on the back of his coat he walked beside him. "Let's sit here," he said his chin indicating a booth that was secluded, "and talk."

Harry sat down and was gently pushed across the plastic booth to the end as the teen sat next to him, blocking any escape he might have made. The tray was deftly put down, a pastry and his hot chocolate put in front of him. "Excuse me a moment," the teen said and pulled out a cell phone. Harry wasn't sure what to do or think as he stared at the food in front of him, until the blond teen pushed it closer to him, with an admonition to drink it while it was still hot.

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Quatre frowned as he watched the black haired boy next to him nervously nibble on his pastry; the boy was clearly terrified. Quatre had been so shocked when he felt the ghostly fingers pluck his wallet, but something had stopped him from grabbing the boy and demanding it back. He followed the child at a distance, watching the shivering form as the boy tried to find a way out of the biting cold. The boy looked half frozen and Quatre was about to make his presence known, when the boy slipped into a coffee shop. Quatre had followed him in; the boy hadn't even noticed him get in line behind him. He looked around the shop, nearly empty, but then it was only 11, so the lunch rush wouldn't be for a bit.

When the child had watched the man in front of him order his food, his face had been filled with an intense longing and hunger and Quatre knew this child was starving. But when he only ordered hot chocolate, Quatre swiftly revised his plans and had to step forward. When his hand had grabbed the back of the boy's coat, not only to keep the boy from bolting, but also to keep him from fainting, he had been shocked at how thin the coat was. Who let this child out without proper clothing, and in this weather! Quatre frowned as the boy shivered again, and pulled his own wool overcoat off and put it around the boy's thin shoulders.

"My name is Quatre," Quatre introduced himself, "and you are?"

He had to lean over when the boy introduced himself, "Harry, Harry Potter," as his voice barely a whisper.

He watched as the boy put his wallet on the table and pushed it to him, "Thank you," he said and neatly opened it and removed his id and credit cards from the wallet then handed it back, "but I think you need it more than I do." Harry gaped at him, then, at another nudge on the wallet by Quatre, took it back and put it in his pocket. "Eat, Harry," Quatre said and pushed half of his pastry to the boy.

Harry ate with deliberate slowness, he didn't want to go to jail, and he was sure that that was whom Quatre had called. His uncle was going to be so angry with him. Someone slid into the booth opposite him, "Quatre, what has Heero told you about picking up strays," the new teen said in a soft soothing voice.

Harry looked up and caught Quatre's quick grin, then pout. "But Trowa…" he said then leaned over the table and gave his uni-banged lover a quick kiss on the lips.

Trowa smirked, then frowned as he took in the shivering boy. "And who is your stray?"

"This is Harry Potter," Quatre said, "Harry, this is Trowa."

Harry tried to give a smile, but it came out as a nervous grimace, then his eyes moved passed the green-eyed boy sitting opposite him and widened in terror. Quatre felt the boy tense and his excellent hearing heard the small whimper of fear as a large man came into the pastry shop. The man looked around, his eyes lighting in pleasure on the fresh baked pastries on display, then he swept his gaze around the room. He froze when he saw Harry, his face growling slowly purple.

"BOY!" he yelled, "what the hell are you doing in here?" Harry gave another whimper and leaving Quatre's coat on the seat, slid down and crouched under the table. Quatre could feel the boy's tremors of fear, and he gently touched the tousled hair. The man came to the table and lowered his bulk to glare at the boy. "Get out here now!" he yelled.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon," Harry babbled as he tried to duck walk closer, but both Trowa and Quatre shifted their legs creating a barrier that Harry couldn't see how to get around.

"Excuse me," Quatre said politely, "we were enjoying a nice cup of hot chocolate and a pastry."

Vernon looked at the blond teen and sneered, "that is my nephew…" he said his voice low and what he thought was intimidating.

"Really?" Quatre said, "and are you responsible for him?" he asked calmly.

"Yes, I am," Vernon puffed up, "but that boy is nothing but a nuisance."

"Well," Quatre took a sip of his tea, "now I know who will take the blame when child services gets here…"

"What?" Vernon sputtered.

"They will be very interested to know why Harry's coat is much too thin for this weather, why he is not in school, why he is so thin and starved," Quatre's aqua blue eyes grew cold, "and why he has been taught to pick pockets for a man who is obviously his controller."

Vernon wasn't sure whether to sputter, strangle or scream. He settled on all three, as he sputtered and lunged at Quatre screaming at the blond. Trowa deftly got between the two and with a quick grab and twist, Vernon was now howling in pain, his arm twisted horribly behind him. The woman behind the counter had called the police when Vernon had first started yelling at the cute kid and his 'older brother' and it wasn't long before the constables came into the shop. Quatre and Trowa calmly flashed their Preventer's badges and Harry was brought out from under the table.

In a very short time, Harry had a warmer coat, another hot chocolate and no home. He blinked back tears as he listened to Quatre and Trowa talking to the officer. The wallets that Harry had stolen that day were in a plastic evidence bag. Vernon's apartment was being searched. Now where was he to go?

"Harry," Trowa said gaining the boy's attention, "are you ready to go?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "Go where, sir?" he asked, his voice cracking on a half sob, "I have no home?"

Quatre slid into the booth and put an arm around the boy's shoulders, "did you think that we would leave you alone?" Harry looked up, and was surprised when Quatre gently wiped his face with a handkerchief. "Come on, let's go home."

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Harry blinked in shock as the SUV pulled up to an elegant townhouse. Quatre got out, and opened Harry's door and beckoned him. When Harry got out, Quatre smiled at him, then opened the door to a brightly lit foyer, Trowa slipping passed them. "Quatre!" a braided teen exclaimed as he came down the stairs, "did you bring me a hot chocolate?"

"I forgot, Duo," Quatre said smiling slightly, "I want you to meet someone…"

"Quatre, what have I told you about picking up strays?" a deep voice said next to Harry and he jumped slightly, looking up into intense blue eyes.

Quatre pouted, then wrinkled his nose. "But, Heero! He's so cute!" he put his arm over Harry's shoulder. "Can I keep him?" Harry looked up at Quatre startled and Quatre looked down at him and winked.

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AN: I'm baaa-ack! So, this just came to me when I read Mannd1068's Magic isn't Real, Ch 5, and just HAD to do something with it. I hope you enjoy!